July 27

Under partly sunny skies and temperatures in the mid 70’s, my canoeing partner, Dave Shepherd and I put in on the Pine River at the westside of Lumberjack Park and paddle upstream through a corridor of lush vegetation. Around the bend, we spook up a deer that scampers across the shallow river in front of us. We continue upstream, where I spot one of several perching Cedar Waxwings on the bank as well as an abandoned nest of Webworms and a patch of colorful Swamp Milkweed. After paddling about ¼ mile against a gentle current, we are stopped by a fallen tree, turn around and head downstream past mats of floating Eelgrass, back to the park. After dropping off the canoe, I follow the Campground trail southeast along the riverbank where I spot blossoms of Arrow leaf and get a rare glimpse at a beautiful Dog-Day Cicada. This two-inch adult was still drying out after recently molting from its last nymph stage (stock photo). The name, “Dog-Day” refers to the hot and muggy days of late July and August when the nymph, after developing 2-5 years underground, climbs out and molts into an adult that produces a familiar long, high-pitched whining drone. According to weather folklore, when you hear the first song of the dog-day cicadas, it means there's just six weeks until the first frost. Further ahead, I come upon blossoms of Allegany Monkey Flower while I pause to look and listen as the river flows past a cluster of smooth rocks. One rock, I notice near shore was used recently as a steppingstone by raccoons. Other evidence of these creature’s presence includes mussel shells and scat. As the sun peaks through the clouds, I continue into a mature woodland where I spot a Chipping Sparrow perched high in the dense Maple canopy. Proceeding through the campground area, the sun highlights the ground in front of me. Veering off the trail down to the river’s edge, I’m entertained by a loud crow while watching Jewel wings flutter about and Whirly gigs swim against the current. Also, patches of Fringed Loosestrife catch my eye. Back in the car, I reflect on my river journey so far, from my first encounter in Midland County back in April to today, my final stop in Gratiot County before venturing upstream into Montcalm County. 

Water of life, water of life

Rain and snow bless the earth

Flowing o’er furrowed fields.

Water of life, water of death

Gathering minerals to help

Chemicals and coliforms to harm.

Water of life, water of death

Converging creeks and drains

contaminate the channel.

River of life, river of death

Toxins that poison food chains 

and fish be damned!

 

D. DeGraaf

July 20

It’s early morning when Caroline and I begin a hike in the Stearns Preserve. Located in the village of Riverdale, these 14 acres of floodplain on the Pine River are property of the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy. With partly cloudy skies and temperatures in the lower 70’s, we follow a groomed path east through a 1-acre meadow where I spot blossoms of Blue Vervain as well as an Orange Meadowhawk dragonfly perched on a Cranesbill plant. At the water’s edge, I pause to watch the Pine River flow gently by, as blossoming Purple Loosestrife appear along the shore. Looking around, I notice a 1½ inch Wood Frog in the mud and nearby, the exoskeleton of a dragonfly, shed by the insect after its final molt. Finding our way onto the Meijer Bike Trail that runs through the middle of the preserve, we head east past a dense stand of Horsetail and then stop to pick a blossom of Bergamot to smell its lovely fragrance. Pausing on the bridge, I observe the river flowing south through a riparian landscape while yellow blossoms of Fringed Loosestrife also catch my eye. Leaving the bike trail, I descend a steep slope and work my way south along the river’s edge where I come upon a resting ½ inch Leaf Miner fly. Seeing a nearby Basswood tree with many blotched and pitted leaves, I am not surprised to find a ¼ inch adult Leaf Miner crawling on one of them. Earlier in the year, adult female Leaf Miners insert single eggs beneath the upper epidermis of a Basswood leaf. The resulting grub-like larvae feed as leaf miners between the upper and lower epidermis (stock photo).  The blotch-like leaf mines contain a single larva at first but may eventually house several larvae. Pupation occurs within the leaf mines and new adults emerge in summer. Down in the mud, evidence of recent Raccoon activity is noted. Returning to the paved bike trail, we proceed east through a shaded tunnel of leaning Box Elder trees where I notice the distinctive blossom of a Michigan Lily and the dainty bellflowers of Dogbane. Just before turning around, I follow the flight of one of several Northern Pearly-eye butterflies as it lands on a leaf. Heading west, I see a few invasive Autumn Olive shrubs as well as invasive Spotted Knapweed. Back on the bridge, I gaze upstream as the river passes through a corridor of lush vegetation. Finally, we reach the car and head for home.

 

Calls of the wild

Please my ear

Strum of a frog

Chirp of a Killdeer

Snort of a Whitetail

Buzzing of bees

Drum of a woodpecker

Wind through the trees

In tune with nature

On a trail I stroll

Summer chorus

Music for the soul

 

D. DeGraaf

July 13

This morning, I’m near the small village of Elm Hall as I begin my fourteenth encounter with the Pine River. Since March, I’ve followed the main branch of the river upstream about 30 miles from its mouth in my quest to travel its entire length, some 20 miles yet to go. With sunny, hot and humid weather, I make my way from the car to the river’s edge while passing blossoms of Crown Vetch, Bouncing Bet and St. John’s Wort. After descending the steep roadbed, I pause on the bank to take in the riparian sights and sounds. Looking around, I spot a Song Sparrow perched in a Maple tree above me and a patch of Common Arrowhead near shore. The common names of Duck potato and Wapato for Arrowhead are in reference to the enlarged rounded starchy golf ball-sized tubers that form at the ends of underground plant runners (stock photo). These tubers are edible when roasted or boiled. They were important food sources of indigenous peoples and in some areas are still valued as such. Unable to find a suitable path to follow, I cross a bridge in search of another access point where I notice blossoms of Queen Anne’s Lace, Chicory and Common Mullein. In the meantime, I stop to listen to the mimicking songs of a Gray Catbird, perched high in a dead Ash tree. Proceeding south through dense undergrowth, I come upon a small Single-dotted Wave Moth and a Goldenrod plant displaying a fresh nut gall. This growth, that contains the larvae of a Goldenrod gall fly, is a common sight this time of year.  Just ahead, I find the river again as it has widened into a large wetland. Turning around, I begin retracing my steps as I pass by ripening fruit of wild Raspberries and Honeysuckle while a refreshing breeze sways the Cottonwood leaves overhead. Nearing the car, I stumble upon a colony of Formica ants scurrying about their shallow mound. Finally, I’m back to the car, turn on the AC and head for home.

 

Beauty of summer

settles over the river 

where a cardinal flower

flaunts its scarlet pedals, 

a wood duck drake parades

its coat of many colors.

In the murky depths

beauty awaits its cue.

An unsightly creature

heeds its inner call to

ascend and transform. 

Behold! Dragonfly, 

adorned with translucent

wings and body of 

iridescent green.

 

D. DeGraaf

July 6

This morning, I park the car along Sand Rd. next to the Pine River as it flows downstream toward Alma, seven miles to the northeast. The weather is sunny and warm as I climb down the 10 ft roadbed onto the wooded floodplain where swarms of mosquitoes make their presence known. Making my way to the river’s edge, I pass by some Skunk Cabbage and Wild Ginger. Pausing on the muddy bank, I notice the mirrored water flows slow and quiet through a lush landscape while a short distance downstream, rippling water flows fast and noisy past a dam of downed trees. Looking around, I first spot a perching Eastern Phoebe and then hear the call of a Tufted Titmouse high in the trees above the far shore. Hiking downstream along the bank, I pass by a large Beech tree before coming upon a floating mat of Clasping Leaf pondweed. Like my river hike last week, several Ebony Jewel-wing damselflies flutter and perch, including this one displaying its striking iridescence. Further exploration of the muddy flood plain reveals a patch of Morning Star Sedge and Poison Ivy leaves covered with bumps produced by a leaf gall mite. In the leafy undergrowth, several small whitish moths, called Three-spotted Fillips, flutter and perch, including this one resting on a Poison ivy leaf. In addition, a single, 1-inch moth, called a False Crocus Geometer is spotted nearby. The name “Geometer”, meaning earth-measurer, refers to the locomotion of the caterpillars which lack most of the prolegs of other Lepidopteran caterpillars. Equipped with appendages at both ends of the body, a caterpillar will clasp with its front legs and draw up the hind end, then clasp with the hind end and reach out for a new front attachment, creating a loop, and creating the impression that it is measuring its journey. The caterpillars are accordingly called inchworms (stock photo). Working my way through a patch of ferns, I can barely make out a perching damselfly. While approaching for a closer look, I realize why it doesn’t fly away. Much to my amazement, this fragile insect is completing its last stage of molting as it goes through a metamorphosis from an aquatic nymph to aerial adult.  After its skin splits down the back, it emerges and inflates its wings and abdomen to gain its adult form. Making my way back, I find Caroline enjoying peace and quiet from the comfort of the car as I brief her on my 13^th Pine River encounter. 

 

An hour of traffic flow and

minutes of forest retreat, past.

Facing the gentle river flow that 

slows my racing mind and 

quiets the daily din.

Connecting to creatures that

thrive in this steady stream.

The Belted Kingfisher that gracefully

dives for its fingerling food.

The motherly Muskrat that 

gathers greens for her hungry kits.

Memories of nature to cherish

Thoughts of nature to soothe

 

D. DeGraaf

June 29

On my quest to follow the Pine River from mouth to source, I find myself at the Polk Rd bridge in western Gratiot County, about 5 miles upstream from last week’s canoeing adventure. It’s a beautiful summer morning as I descend into the wooded flood plain where dozens of Ebony Jewelwing damselflies flutter about and perch along the lush riverbank, including this female with its white wingtip spots. The life cycle of this attractive insect begins as a cylindrical egg laid in vegetation along streams and rivers. From there, it grows into a predaceous naiad (stock photo) that lives underwater for up to a year. After 11-12 molts, it crawls out of the water to finally molt into a winged adult that lives about 2 weeks. Next, I turn my attention to the river as it flows north, ever so slowly, through a dense forest of Maple, Elm and Willow. Near the shore, I spot a resting Green Frog, a patch of Reed Canary Grass swaying in the breeze, sparkling whirligigs swimming circles around each other and a dead dragonfly floating on the mirrored water. Away from the river, I explore the mud flats where I notice Sensitive and Cinnamon Ferns as well as a solitary Wild Iris blossom. With surprisingly few mosquitoes to bother me, I come upon a single blossom of Wood Anemone surrounded by several tiny blossoms of Forget-me-nots. Another view of the flowing river reveals a pleasing combination of sunlight, water reflections and sounds. Turning around and continuing to closely observe the landscape, I come upon a perching Orange Bluet Damselfly as well as a couple of tiny Stoneflies resting on milkweed leaves. Further ahead, I first notice some poison ivy beginning to flower and then a maple leaf covered with tiny bumps. These colorful growths, called bladder galls, are caused by tiny eriophyid mites feeding on the underside of the leaf. The mite completes its entire life cycle inside the gall (stock photo). The damage to the leaf is generally cosmetic and not permanent. While hiking back up onto the road, I pass a Motherwort mint in bloom. Re-crossing the bridge toward the car, I spot an Eastern Phoebe perched far up the channel. Also, I pause to view the blue sky while listening to the song of a Warbling Vireo from high in the canopy. Near the car, the air smells sweet with the lovely fragrance of Milkweed blossoms. Finally, I find the car where Caroline is reading her latest novel.

 

Dawn of summer

Neath a cirrus sky

Hiking a river’s edge

Jewelwings flutter by

Patch of bracken ferns

Blanket the sunny glade

Breaking the silence

Chickadees serenade

Above the waterflow

Turkey Vultures glide

Sunbeams at my back

Mother Nature at my side

 

D. DeGraaf

June 22

The sky is sunny with temperatures in the mid 60’s as our canoe shoves off from Luneack County Park, west of Alma and heads upstream on the Pine River. With fellow naturalist and experienced canoeist, Dave Shepherd at the helm, we traverse the west end of the mill pond where I spot a Mallard hen and chick making their way through a large mat of floating weeds. Further ahead, an Eastern Kingbird, perching high along the south bank, catches our attention. Paddling southwest over smooth water, we pass an exposed sandbar occupied by Mallards and Killdeer. Just ahead, we spot our first of many Muskrats swimming across our path. Whiling tracking it toward a large stand of cattails, we hear the familiar calls of Redwing Blackbirds. Continuing upstream in still water, we marvel at the scenery around us, both real and reflected. Around the next bend, we notice a number of leafless ash trees, dead as they stand along the bank as well as a couple of Painted Turtles basking on a downed tree trunk. Slowing down and steering closer to the bank, I lean over to examine a floating pondweed soup including some with tiny white blossoms. Also, I notice some lily pads with flower buds. As the channel narrows and becomes more cluttered with branches, we finally reach an impasse, so we turn around and begin paddling downstream. Heading back, we enjoy the fragrance of multiflora rose blossoms along the bank. Further along, we quietly approach the bank where we see the rear end of a foraging whitetail deer. Once, we are noticed, it scampers off into the brush. Continuing downstream, we paddle through a dense patch of lily pads on our way back to the main channel. Back across the wide mill pond, we notice large floating mats of the highly invasive pond weed called Eurasian Milfoil. Upon reaching the shore, I spot several plum-size Chinese Mystery snails in the shallow water. This invasive mollusk found its way to North America in the late 1800’s as part the Asian food market. Once introduced, it spread to other waterbodies in bait bucket water and on plants attached to boat propellers. Its unique operculum or “trap door” feature covers the shell opening and allows it to avoid predation and survive out of water. Infesting lakes and rivers, it out competes native populations for food and space. After loading the canoe on the roof of Dave’s car, we bid farewell and head for home.

 

Ah! commencement of summer.

Morning sunbeams awaken the earthen bank,

where the stealth of a hungry heron

is barely seen among the cattail reeds.

Where the Mallard hen leads her line of chicks

along the verdant shore, past a floating log

topped by turtles basking to warm cold blood.

Snapshot of a remote river realm, 

where survival instincts display.

 

D. DeGraaf

June 15

 

The early morning weather is breezy, clear and cool as I begin another encounter with the Pine River. Having discovered an access point tucked away in a residential area, just east of downtown Alma, I proceed north along a grassy trail into a wooded flood plain, taking in the sights and sounds of the riparian landscape. Along the way, I spot some Dame’s Rocket and Pin Cherry in bloom as well as pause to watch the river flow gently through a corridor of chlorophyll. Away from the river, I get a brief glimpse of a perching Eastern Kingbird followed by a deer scampering through the dense underbrush. Continuing north, I recognize some large leaves of a Catalpa tree and then watch a Crane Fly come to rest in a patch of lush grass nearby. Following a game trail near the river’s edge, I come upon some tall grass where my attention is drawn to a resting Blue-tipped Dancer damselfly as well as a ½ inch winged Termite. Further ahead, while moving from shade into sunlight, I notice a few Ebony Jewel-wing damselflies fluttering about and follow one as it comes to rest. Arriving at the bank once again, I watch the meandering river make a sharp turn and flow south. Also, I come upon a large Silver Maple tree blown over by yesterday’s powerful thunderstorm. Turning around to retrace my steps, I pass another dainty damselfly, this one being an Orange Bluet. Finding my way over to the edge of the flooded wetlands, I pause to watch a half dozen, ½ inch Whirligig beetles gliding effortlessly over the water surface. These amazing little insects (stock photo) possess several adaptations that help them thrive in an aquatic habitat. For example, to better find food and avoid predation, their eyes are divided into two parts, the top part to see above the water line and the bottom part to see below. Also, they carry a bubble of air that allows them to dive and swim for indefinite periods if necessary. In addition, they have a primitive echolocation system that allows them to locate prey from the slightest ripples in the water. Finally, besides being great swimmers, they have wings to fly to a new habitat if theirs dries up. Nearing the end of the hike, I glance across the channel to see some large. edible Pheasant Back fungi growing at the base of a decaying tree trunk. Within sight of the car, I see evidence of nearby Cottonwood trees including tufts of fluffy seeds and leaves scattered on the muddy ground. Finally, I reach the car and head for home, only a few miles to the west.

Early morning wakeup

An hour of river flow

Swallows dip and dive

Muskrats put on a show

Above cattail reeds

Dragonflies soar

Green fills the landscape

As it did before

Water in motion

Peace I find

Water in motion

Carries my mind

D. DeGraaf