February 22

Five inches of overnight snow cover the path I trudge along the frozen Pine River mill pond in Alma’s Conservation Park. Under mostly sunny skies and temperatures in the single digits, I proceed west where I notice a beautiful feature of the winter landscape called “sastrugi” Also spelled zastrugi, this type of wind-blasted snow resembles frozen waves. It forms in open areas where the wind’s velocity is unimpeded by vegetation. Snowflakes are blown off course a bit by surface irregularities and molded into these dune-like patterns. Continuing west, I spot a set of fresh deer tracks crossing lengthy tree shadows from a mid-day sun. Turning inland, I come upon a few leafless broad-leaf trees with dark blobs clinging to branches that turn out to be deteriorating nests of webworms. These loosely woven webs (stock photo) are constructed in the summer and fall by webworm caterpillars. Unlike springtime tent caterpillars which feed outside their dense webs (stock photo) and retreat to them when not feeding, these caterpillars enclose whole clusters of leaves at the ends of branches and feed on the leaves within their tent. When fully grown, they drop to the ground, pupate in leaf litter and remain for the winter. Perching in another nearby leafless tree is my first Robin sighting of the new year. Glancing north into a wooded area, I watch a young doe run past and head for cover. Working my way east on the crunchy snow, I pause to watch a male Downy woodpecker most likely probing for beetle larvae. He will also eat ants and other insects moving about on warmer winter days. However, the sex of the bird determines where it will most often search for these protein-rich critters. Males, like this one, seem to prefer feeding higher in trees among smaller branches. Females are more likely to search for food along the trunk and larger branches. Entering the Eyer Bird Observation Hut, I spend 10 minutes watching birds come and go, including a: Red-breasted Nuthatch, White-Breasted Nuthatch, female Downy Woodpecker along with a Chickadee and Junco as well as a sneaky Fox Squirrel. Moving next to the Eyer Learning Circle, I’m not surprised the benches are hibernating for another month or so until park patrons arrive to enjoy the sights and sounds of nature.

 

Blanket of brawny ice

Banks of overnight white

Water babbles beneath

River flow, river snow

Birdsongs are bygones

Tracks of hungry deer

Cloudless sunny blue

River crow, river doe

Whatever’s of winter

Flurries and flakes fall

Channel of frozen fluid

River go, river show

 

D. DeGraaf

February 15

Under partly sunny skies and temperatures in the single digits, I trudge west along a snow-covered Meijer Heartland Trail in the Vestaburg State Game Area, 3000 acres of hunting land just west of Montcalm County’s village of Vestaburg. Soon, I pass one of several Tag Alder trees with its frost-ladened flowers and then pause to listen to the song of a Black-capped Chickadee. This “fee bee” song is not as common as others and obviously not used in winter for mating purposes but rather to establish territorial boundaries with rival flocks. Another sound that catches my attention is the drumming of a Red-bellied Woodpecker.  Just ahead, I come upon a tree with bark chewed off by a hungry porcupine. These mammals do not hibernate but might den in hollow logs or abandoned burrows in bad weather. Due to their heavy bodies and short legs, they cannot easily navigate deep snow, therefore wintertime adds extra pressure on them to find accessible and nutritionally dense food. Like beavers, porcupines prefer to eat the nutritious inner tree bark or phloem. To get to it they have to remove the bark all the way down to the cambium layer. If this happens all the way around the trunk (girdling it), the tree will die. Continuing west, I spot a few spore stalks of ferns poking out of an 8-inch snow cover, a few dried seedpods of Tiger Lilies and Milkweed. While following deer tracks that continue laterally down the trail in front of me, I spot a set of least weasel tracks that cross the trail, north to south. Also crossing the trail nearby are a set of running deer tracks that have a leaping span of about 8 feet. Still heading west, I pause again as a light south breeze moves through a stand of Phragmites. Approaching a frozen creek bed, I spot a couple of Tree Sparrows feeding on Goldenrod seeds. Despite the name, these birds are not really associated with trees. In winter, flocks of them are common in open country rather than wooded areas while in summer they migrate and nest far north on the tundra, above the tree line.  After 1.3 miles, I turn around to begin my trek back to the trailhead where I come upon wing prints in the snow most likely made by a raptor such as a hawk or owl swooping in to snatch its prey such as a rodent or songbird. Continuing east, I watch the morning sun rise to produce lengthy tree shadows. Finally, I make it back to the car, turn on the heat and head for home.

 

Season of cold

Leafy lairs appear

Darts among branches

Displays little fear

Snowy tracks

Between the trees

Chatters on high

Stash in the leaves

Creature of winter

Worthy of praise

Squirrel of the woods

I admire your ways

 

D. DeGraaf

February 8

Under mostly sunny skies, temperatures in the mid-teens and a moderate north wind, I find myself 14 miles southeast of Ithaca, hiking the White Pine trail in the Gratiot-Saginaw State Game Area, 17,000 acres of hunting land spanning the southeastern section of Gratiot County and the southwestern section of Saginaw County. Proceeding south over 6 inches of snow, I watch the morning sun beam its light past leafless oaks and maples. Along the way, I notice disturbances of the leaf litter including: a scrape where deer pawed for food, a hole where a squirrel retrieved its stash and a large bedding area where a herd of deer spent the night. Moving ahead, I spot a tiny meandering stream and a classic 10-ft tall snag. Hard to believe, but trees can actually provide more habitats for wildlife dead than when they are alive. These dead and dying “snags” or “wildlife trees” are important to woodland creatures. Birds, small mammals and insects use them for nests, nurseries, storage areas, foraging, roosting, and perching. Nearby, I spot a snow tunnel of a Meadow Vole (stock photo) as well as a few of its surface tracks. In late winter, these tiny mammals venture to the surface in order for their brains to get updated information on the lengthening of daylight that in turn stimulate their appetite and increase their search for food. Coming to the edge of a small, ice-covered lake, I pause to gaze at a gibbous moon barely visible in the blue sky high above the tree line. Stepping out onto the thick ice, I make my way across the snow-covered lake where I spot tracks of deer as well as coyote. Even though dog and coyote have similar paw prints in snow, a dog’s gait pattern (stock photo) is less linear than a coyote’s. Also, my attention is drawn to how the low-angled winter sunlight casts lengthy shadows of tree trunks across the white surface. While these shadows were the longest at the last Winter Solstice (December 21, 2020), they will be the shortest at the upcoming summer solstice (June 20, 2021). Near shore, I notice dried seed heads of Buttonbush and Nut sedge. Next, I pause as a gust of frigid air blows through a stand of Phragmites. Finally, attempting to retrace my steps back to the start, I lose the trail and wander through the forest in the general direction of the car only to find it after an extra hour of trudging through this remote winter wilderness.

 

What lies beneath

My forest way

My trail of snow

On winter’s day

A dormant seed

A tunneling vole

A squirrel’s stash

A chipmunk’s hole

Carpet of white

O’er black and gray

O’er layer of leaves

O’er death and decay

D. DeGraaf

 

February 1

Under mostly cloudy skies, temperatures in the upper teens and a fresh snow cover, I trudge my way east into Camp Cutler, 160 acres of semi-wilderness land located in Montcalm County, 12 miles northwest of Alma. This scout camp was established in 1960 when the Cutler family donated 120 acres to the St Louis Boy Scouts. In 1975, the camp property expanded when the Leppien family donated an adjoining 40 acres. Just ahead, I pass a towering White Oak with its dead leaves still attached and then pause to hear the distant faint drumming of a Downy Woodpecker. Drumming, which is also called tattooing, tapping, and rapping, is a woodpecker's act of rapidly pecking on a tree to create a pattern of sound. It’s a communication signal that helps define territory, attract a mate and maintain the pair bond. In addition, mated woodpeckers may use drumming to let one another know about a food source, summon help at the nest or raise an alarm about a predator lurking nearby. Also, these birds have special adaptations that allow them to peck quickly and repeatedly on hard objects without hurting themselves. Thicker skulls cushion the birds' brains and heads from hard impacts and strong neck muscles allow them to drum for long periods of time without strain. Continuing east, I come to the edge of the North Branch of the Pine River to take in the sights and sounds of this peaceful winter landscape. This watercourse begins its journey 3 miles northwest of here at the confluence of Thatcher Creek and Cedar Drain. From here it flows southeast another 1½ miles into Gratiot County where it empties into the main branch of the Pine River, just north Lumberjack Park. Following the trail as it turns north, I spot a 6- inch diameter Foliose Lichen growing on an oak trunk as well as a decaying maple trunk displaying woodpecker holes and decomposing fungi. Next, I pass through a corridor of Red and White Pines before veering to my left to follow a deer trail into a clearing. Turning around and heading back, I cross the river again while passing a leafless Osier dogwood shrub with its colorful burgundy branches. Upon reaching the car, I gaze overhead through a stand of Aspen trees as the sun finally breaks through the overcast sky.

 

Drifting snow grips the meadow

Old man winter here today

Silence sweeps the river’s edge

All redwings have gone away

North wind blows in frigid air

Ice conceals a verdant pond

Muskrats huddle under mounds

Crows call from far beyond

In the midst of a cedar swamp

Sheltered from the bitter chill

Her eyes and ears on alert

A Whitetail doe stands still

 

D. DeGraaf

January 25

On a partly sunny and frigid morning, Caroline and I make our way along a snow-covered path in Mt. Pleasant’s Chipp-A-Waters Park. Soon, I pause on the bank of the Chippewa River to watch it round the bend and head northeast into the city limits. According to today’s measurements from the Mt. Pleasant station: water depth is 3.6 ft. and the flow rate is 290 cubic ft./sec. Further ahead, I notice a Winterberry shrub with some remaining fruit as well as a Multiflora Rosebush with some hips still attached. Rose hips are edible and very rich in vitamin C as well as vitamin B and carotene. Since they are usually acidic and rather astringent, they’re rarely eaten fresh, but rather cooked with sugar. It’s important, however, to remove the seeds before consuming hips. Their seeds are covered in irritating hairs that can cause unpleasant reactions to the skin and mucous membranes. Often this irritation is carried right through the digestive tract. As a result, the French call rose hips “gratte-culs” (butt scratchers), while American Indian tribes described the result as “itchy bottom disease.” As the morning sun breaks through the clouds, my attention is drawn to the river channel where beams bounce off the rippling, flowing water. Following the path into a wooded area, I pause to face the base of a massive Eastern Cottonwood tree. According to the posted sign, this massive tree has a diameter of 71 inches and a circumference of 220 inches-meaning it would take 3 lengthy adults, holding hands, to encircle the tree. Nearby, I spot fresh tracks of a Cottontail rabbit and a Musclewood (Blue Beech) tree still holding on to its dead leaves. Further ahead, I notice a large “graveyard” of mature Ash trees. Before the Emerald Ash Borer began killing them in large numbers, Ash trees were one of the most valuable and abundant North American woodland trees: estimates of total numbers ranged between seven and nine billion. Since 2002, this insect has destroyed 40 million ash trees in Michigan alone and hundreds of millions throughout other states and Canada. Next, we cross a footbridge over the river and follow a circular path around Veit’s Woods where I notice several immature Beech trees still had their leaves attached. Finally, we retrace our steps back to the car and head for home.

Early morning sunbeams

create long shadows 

over the icy river flow,

illuminate the far bank

with glistening white, 

warm the gray Juncos 

in the leafless dogwood,

reveal tracks of a mink 

hunting near shore, 

light up my spirit with

nature's wonderland

 

D. DeGraaf

January 18

With temperatures in the mid 30’s and a brisk wind at my back, I’m hiking east along a 12- ft. wide berm in a massive cattail marsh of the Maple River State Game Area, 30 miles south of Alma. Overhead, a leafless tree reveals a vacant Baltimore Oriole nest among branches sprouting catkins. These nests consist of tightly woven plant fibers, strips of bark, grapevines, grass, yarn, string, lined with fine grass, plant down and hair.  The only reason there aren't more old nests hanging from trees is because often times the female will use material from her old nest to make a new one. Orioles don't reuse an old nest, but they certainly will recycle one. On another tree nearby, I observe a Bald-face hornets’ nest. In the fall, hornet males and new queens are produced. These leave the nest, mate, and the fertilized queens hibernate. The remainder of the workers, the old queen, and the males die of old age or freezing temperatures. Nearby, I come upon some squirrel tracks as well as rope-like, hairy, leafless vines of poison ivy clinging to a tree trunk. Further ahead, I pause as the westerly wind blows through a mix of Reed Canary grass and Teasel. Among the hundreds of acres of dead cattails, I notice several snow-capped mounds of plant material made by Muskrats. The larger ones, called lodges are built by first heaping plant material and mud to form a mound. A burrow is then dug into the mound from below the water level and a chamber is fashioned for them to shelter from freezing temperatures, avoid predation and sleep. The smaller ones, called push-ups are built away from the main lodge. When the ice is still very thin, muskrats push plant materials up through holes in the ice, thus the name push-up. The plant material of the push-up creates a hidden platform on the ice where the muskrat can rest and feed. Turning south, I notice a dense stand of leafless pussy willows displaying their red winter branches while some of them also have dense clumps of twigs known as Witches' Brooms. Caused by a type of bacteria known as a phytoplasma, this abnormal growth does not harm the plant. Turning around and heading back to the car, I discover, among this stark winter landscape, some chlorophyll green including duck weed and sedge as well as shoots of wild Iris, an early sign of the season to come. 

 

Birds of the cold

Quest to survive

Searching for food

Staying alive

Cardinal of red

Junco of gray

Eyes of the raptor

Fixed on its prey

A sudden dive

From a tree above

Life for the hawk

Death for the dove

 

D. DeGraaf

January 11

Under cloudy skies and temperatures in the mid 30’s, I find myself 10 miles southwest of Alma in the village of Sumner hiking a snowy path close to the Pine River. Sumner’s first settlers came to Gratiot County in the mid 1850s, establishing a sawmill and a store in the location that would become the village. The settlement was first known as “Belltown” after George S. Bell, who took possession of 400 acres of land in Sumner Township. Another of the first immigrants, Titus Stover, ran the store, and his customers took to calling the settlement “Stoverville.” The village that would eventually be Sumner was laid out in 1868 and named “Estella”. (stock photo) When the post office was established in 1869, it was named Sumner because it was the first post office in Sumner Township. In 1913, Sumner’s school had two teachers and ten grades. There were churches in town for Free Methodists, Adventists and Church of Christ. Businesses included a flour mill, a hotel, and a blacksmith shop. There was also a resident physician and several stores that sold general merchandise. Up in the canopy, I notice a tall Oak tree with dead leaves still attached and a tall Maple sprouting leaf buds in preparation for spring. On the path, I spot a deer track in the snow stained slightly yellow due to tannic acid seepage from the underlying, decaying leaf litter. Approaching the riverbank, I pause in the quietude of this winter landscape to look and listen as the water flows gently from north to south. Walking along the bank, I notice squirrel tracks as well as Goldenrod blossoms seeding out. Blossoms begin forming in mid-August and continues through October. Plants usually do not flower until the second year of growth at which time they produce an average of 3000 seeds per plant. A pappus (stock photo) at the tip of each seed aids in wind dispersal; goldenrod seeds released 3 feet off the ground traveled an average of 2 feet in a 5-mph wind. Goldenrod plants also reproduce by way of short rhizomes (stock photo) emerging from the base of aerial stems. Rhizomes are usually not produced until after the first year of growth at which time several grow outward from the same root crown resulting in a circular cluster of stems between 2 to 5 inches apart. Patches of shoots produced by rhizomes arising from a single root system were observed growing up to 8 feet wide. Finally, up ahead, I turn north to view the river and think about a similar view from last spring. 

 

Crystalline white fell overnight

Closing doors of hibernators

Crowning heads of cattails

Revealing paws of predators

Blanketing layers of leaf litter

Draping needles of green

Insulating muskrat mounds

Drifting against pillars of pine

Settling on winter’s wonderland

Crystalline white fell overnight

 

D. DeGraaf