Ripples 2/2/23

Posted on by February 2, 2023
Winter is slowly slipping away, despite the recent cold snap.  The forecast is for warmer weather, perhaps for much of the rest of the month.  We are already 2/3rds through what we consider biological winter (December thru February), and there are more and more signs that spring is already stirring.
 
Warm snaps cause some woody plants to begin the process of bud-swelling.  If you have lilacs or a silver maple in your yard, you probably have noticed that they’ve already begun the process of preparing for spring leaf-out.  Lilacs in particular, because the buds swell early and are at eye level, look like they want to pop very soon.  Sometimes people are a bit alarmed at this precociousness, but lilacs have been around a long time and know when it’s time to really leaf out.
 
It’s interesting how wildlife settles into seasonal daily patterns.  I wouldn’t be very aware of them except that in my yard one can watch bird feeders and who visits them. Bald eagles are active very early in the morning, before light, and head toward the Lake to fish or hunt.  Cardinals start coming very early, when they can barely be seen, sometimes before I’ve put any seed out.  As soon as its light the usual suspects arrive, chickadees, nuthatches, juncos, house finches, tree sparrows, and woodpeckers.  A friend gave me an enormous slab of suet which has been out on the feeder for more than a month- I’m sure every woodpecker in the neighborhood knows its there.  Fortunately suet, that fat around a cow’s kidneys, doesn’t really spoil, and a large piece feeds many birds, including those chickadees and nuthatches.
 
In February, it begins to sound different outside.  Instead of their harsh “chick-a-dee-dee-dee” call, those birds begin, on nice days, to sing their sweet “cheeseburger” call, meaning, I think, that its nearing time to think about nesting.  Of course the most optimistic birds begin their romantic calls around Christmas, but cease when the weather is cold.  By February, though, they sing the spring song frequently, and cardinals also begin to sing rather than just utter their loud “chip” call.  More than anything, hearing these birds brightens the day and reminds me that spring will be soon.
 
The birds know about what time I fill feeders, and some land on the feeders as they are being filled. Some of the local deer must hang out and watch, because no sooner have I walked the few feet back to the garage they are there licking up seed that I’ve scattered on the ground for the juncos.  And after the deer my brother’s great danes visit to do the same, followed by the squirrels- I don’t really know if there’s much left for the juncos! It’s interesting to watch animals of any kind, however.  And interesting to think about how they are watching me.
 
One meteorologist stated that we might be more likely to see thunderstorms than snowstorms the rest of February- I still hope that’s not true.  If that’s the case, its going to be tricky to know when maple sap will run this year- it seems like one should be ready this month just in case.  And I’m never ready in February, it seems, so I hope March is moderate in temperature, and there’s still some snow left in the season.  Regardless, the slow, inevitable march to spring is already on us, and it feels, and sounds, very good to me.
 
 photo- by Nancy Nabak

Ripples 1/26/23

Posted on by January 30, 2023

photo of black-capped chickadeeThis strange, dark, mild winter (so far) has been mostly unremarkable in the yards of both my home and work.  There are birds, to be sure, but mostly those of the “usual suspect” variety.  That being said, it’s good to have a reason to get out and explore once in a while, even if it’s close to home.  In the last couple of weeks two extremely different species have been attracting attention for very different reasons.

The first are Bald eagles, which seem to be common along the Lakeshore this year.  In my youth, there were none in the Manitowoc area, at least to my awareness.  I remember vacationing in northern Wisconsin and being thrilled at the sight of one.  This year, 27 were recorded on the Manitowoc Christmas Bird Count.  But not only are they around in winter, more are nesting in the county. 
 
I participate in the Bald Eagle Nest Watch coordinated by Madison Audubon, and recently have been out trying to verify locations for nests in Manitowoc County.  The DNR has information on bald eagle nests in general, but some of the information has not been verified for several years, so we are challenged to verify whether or not nests are still active.  Although bald eagle nests are huge, they can be hard to find.  If a nest is in a deciduous tree with leaves off that is out in the open, not so bad.  If it’s nestled nicely far up in a flat-topped white pine, even a huge nest can be barely noticeable.  The best scenario is to have an eagle or two perched nearby- they are much easier to spot than nests sometimes.
 
There are at least a half-dozen or so nests in Manitowoc County, and more volunteers than that willing to spend some time documenting the goings-on at those places.  Volunteers weekly document the birds’ behaviors at their nest- significant life events like nest building, courtship and copulation, egg laying, feeding young, and fledging.  The whole process might take five months or so, and is not always successful.  Fortunately, eagles are long-lived and will try again if need be.
 
Second are the ubiquitous chickadees.  At our station, after banding saw-whets in the fall we return to banding songbirds occasionally.  In winter our goal is to band tree sparrows, which can be numerous in the yard.  When we are able to band some, we often see banded birds the following winter.  We aren’t always able to catch those particular birds, but it seems likely that they returned again to the same area after migrating to and from the arctic.  Although they are the goal, we are much more likely to catch chickadees, which seem fearless in terms of mist nets and poles and such, often landing on them and scolding us.  If caught, they immediately struggle ferociously and in seconds are not only caught, they are tangled.  As a result we watch the nets constantly and hurry to remove a chickadee before it’s tangled, and we seldom get there in time.  Then, as we gently remove them from the net, they turn their full wrath on us, scratching (and becoming more tangled in the process) and biting with surprising force for such a small bird.  Other chickadees come to help, and we are soon being scolded from all sides.  After patiently removing the little spitfires, we band and measure them.  We try to estimate their age by the wear of their feathers, but it is a difficult process.  Then they are released, to carry a grudge from thence forward, but often to be caught again despite their rage.  As time goes by we get to know the chickadees, even though we can only wish they would cooperate more like juncos or tree sparrows or goldfinches.  And even though they are common and seemingly not migratory, they still surprise us.  Last fall we recaptured one that had been banded by Bernie Brouchoud five years ago, before his passing.  The bird was in excellent condition, and it was a privilege to hold a bird banded by the founder of our center. 
 
But one of the most interesting aspects of chickadee banding is how many more there are than one might suspect.  Usually there are a half-dozen or so hanging around the feeders, coming and going constantly.  One would think there are a dozen or maybe two in the neighborhood, but a few years ago we banded fifty one winter and there were still unbanded birds in the yard and at the feeders.  There were far more chickadees than we thought there were, which to us was a wonderful discovery.  That was of course in winter when they are social.  In summer their crankiness is turned on each other as they space out in breeding territories, and one sees few of them in the yard.
 
Whatever the season, we’re glad that bald eagles don’t seem to have the personalities of chickadees.  If that were the case, I don’t think we’d survive an encounter with them!
 
photo- black-capped chickadee from Wikipedia

 

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Ripples 1/19/23

Posted on by January 20, 2023
photo of chipmunkAs I near old-timer status, I’m still constantly reminded how much there is to learn about the natural world.  About the time one thinks he understands what’s going on outdoors, he is quickly reminded that is not the case.  Each season is different, and each animal or plant, even within a species, is different as well.  
 
Despite many early long range forecasts for a cold and snowy winter, so far that has not been the case this year.  We are now nearing the completion of 2/3 of biological winter (December through February), and with the exception of a week it has been mild and damp. Most of this winter has been like an extended January thaw, looking more like an endless March. Of course that can still change, and probably will before winter is truly past.
 
How are wildlife affected?  For an insight, read Aldo Leopold’s essay “January Thaw” in A Sand County Almanac, about the exploits of a skunk who wakes up and roams during a mild spell of weather.  Certainly, a lot of species are affected in both good and bad ways. Without snow cover, birds have access to all sorts of weed seeds in the world, and don’t rely on feeders as much unless enticed in with especially good seed.  Meadow voles, lacking snow cover, may have a harder time avoiding predators.  Squirrels can more easily find nuts stored away last fall. And emerald ash borers will probably survive in greater numbers without real cold. With so much open water, Canada geese, ducks, and bald eagles remain in our area and won’t leave until they have to. Every season has winners and losers based on weather and available food, and this year will be no exception.
 
So far, this may be the warmest January on record. Many of us will enjoy that, but it will certainly affect wildlife in profound ways. For the first time in my memory, last weekend I saw an Eastern chipmunk (Tamias striatus) actively working on his burrow in my yard in mid-January. Chipmunks, whose name was probably an adaptation of the native Odawa word jidmoonh, are not truly hibernators. They do sleep most of the winter in underground burrows, but wake up every couple of weeks to feed on grain that they stored in fall and use their restroom, returning to sleep after a short time. They do feed a lot and put on fat before winter, but not enough to sustain themselves. They put a lot of energy into gathering and storing seed on which they will dine during the winter months. A lot of it, for the chipmunks in my yard, comes from my bird feeders, or rather what birds scatter beneath my bird feeders.  
 
To see one actively digging and feeding beneath the feeders in January makes me wonder if they have been more active in general this winter and are using up their stored food at a faster rate than usual.  Or, I wonder, if last fall when I repaired the old stone foundation of my house I evicted one from the crack that was intended to be his winter home. One watched me place mortar with what appeared to be a very sober look and I imagined his disappointment at the seeds he had already stored, which I was sealing beyond his reach. Perhaps he is making up for that exclusion now. Either way, I am supplying a lot of the seed he is storing so I don’t feel too guilty.
 
Usually, I see the first chipmunks emerging in spring when the temperature is about 50 degrees F, especially on a sunny day.  If it gets cold again, they retreat below ground until conditions are more suitable. By April they are busily at work gathering from feeders and fields, and eventually raiding the garden just when fruits start to ripen. I don’t begrudge them their small part of the harvest- they have hard lives even if they poach from me. In the wild, a chipmunk is lucky to survive three years.
 
Other rodents, like woodchucks and 13-lined ground squirrels are not so easily influenced by such warm spells, remaining sound asleep all winter until March, when they emerge from their dens looking gaunt and deflated. They are forced to look for whatever is green and growing, which can be sparse that early in the season.  They must be good at it, though, judging by the number of burrows around our nature center.
 
So, I wish them a good second half to the winter.  I’ll be curious about seeing them in February and March this year.  I have no idea what the weather will be, and perhaps I don’t want to know!
 
Photo, eastern chipmunk by Gilles Gonthier

Ripples 1/12/23

Posted on by January 13, 2023

photo of Little Brown BatIf you happen to have time during the short daylight hours, the recent warm spell has been conducive to spending time outdoors. While we can’t ski or snowshoe, we can bundle up and go for a walk or hike and reap the benefits of that. Personally, it’s been good weather for winter invasive shrub trimming, firewood harvesting, and wood splitting – activities which help connect me with the real world. Watching birds does that too, although the birds have had it easy so far, and don’t need our help, or food, as much as they do many years. No snow and lots of weed seeds about makes for good living, for the time being.

When there’s snow, tracks reveal the activities of birds and other animals, bringing us to realize that nature does not just exist when we are there to watch. In terms of being able to observe nature, sometimes we are our own worst enemy. Wild animals are acutely aware of what’s happening in their world. They know where the resources like food and water are located, and where other animals are, friendly or not. And us- I’m sure that we are the most obvious things on the block, so to speak, even if we aren’t advertising our presence by talking or intentionally announcing ourselves. People are not very stealthy, and that affects our ability to perceive the natural world.

Of course, people are successful because they are creative, and come up with technology. Two forms of which have yielded interesting insights into the goings-on in our nature preserve lately. The first is not too high-tech- trail cams are commonly used. In our case we have one which is poised to record wildlife at a particularly good location, a small pond in the woods. Recently, we “harvested” data from the last couple of months, more than 800 photographs of animals. Most were the usual suspects- lots of deer, some raccoons, a mink, a weasel- interesting animals you would expect to find here. One, however was different. First because it was a bird on the ground, second because it was a raptor, and third because it was a Red-shouldered hawk, a threatened species which we’ve found nesting not far from the camera site. This one was photographed on December 9, typically a late date for this species, although they have been known to over-winter. The hawks we know from the nest site have been banded, and this one was not, so it is perhaps and un-banded former nestling, or a different hawk passing through. It was on the ground, catching a frog or other small animal at the pond’s edge.

Just as much fun is Motus, our remote sensing system for animals fitted with transmitters. Fortunately our friends in Canada continue to catch and tag birds for research, and fit them with tiny emitters which we and other stations can detect. Each time we retrieve data its an exciting event- this fall was no exception. One Swainson’s thrush traveled from British Columbia to here on its was to the tropics last fall, probably stopping to find some berries or insects in our preserve. A Short-tailed dowitcher, a large sandpiper, traveled here from Churchill, Manitoba on Hudson’s Bay. A Red knot, another sandpiper which happens to be a world-champion migrator, was tagged in Quebec and traveled to a number of locations before stopping near Woodland Dunes. All of these birds travel different migratory routes, but all include our area in their movements. We may not think of ourselves as being an important place for wildlife, but during the stresses of migration we are a critical place for them to stop to rest and feed. Without places like ours, their kind will fade away as so many animals already have.

The fourth detected by Motus was the most interesting- a Little Brown Bat. These bats, once a major part of the ecosystem. have been hard hit by a fungus disease introduced by people to North America, and perhaps 90% have died. Once common, they are now listed as endangered internationally. This hardy soul was captured and tagged in Montana, but in a month’s time had flown from there to here, to be detected at our station. They are listed as short-to-long distance migrators, but I had no idea one would travel so far from west to east.

The trail cams are back out in the preserve to document more of winter life, and a second Motus receiver will be up and running next week. These invaluable tools help us realize that the happenings of nature are even more remarkable than we imagined, and how important our area is to not only our local animals, but wildlife of the world.

photo- little brown bat by S.M. Bishop

Ripples 1/5/22

Posted on by January 6, 2023

Written by Kennedy Zittel, Asst. Naturalist

It always amazes me how many things a person can see on just a short walk through nature. On Monday, I walked just the first half of Willow Trail, and on this short 15 or so minute walk, I saw so many amazing things!

As I was admiring the bright color of the red-osier dogwoods alongside the trail, some movement near the ground alerted me to a cottontail rabbit searching for food underneath the cover of the dogwood. I stood there for a minute watching and listening to the crunch-crunch noises of it eating some plants until its ears perked up, and faster than I could even blink, off it ran into the safety of the shrub thicket. 

Stepping onto the boardwalk, I noticed that a red fox was kind enough to poop right in the middle of the path. But it is fun to think about how they also use our boardwalk as a walking path. I’d like to imagine their paws making little thuds as they hit the deck boards as they race down the boardwalk searching for something to eat. 

As the shrubs turned into a more forested area, I heard a hairy woodpecker call out from somewhere nearby. Sure enough, as I rounded the bend in the boardwalk I saw it pecking at a tall ash tree, calling out as it hopped around the trunk of the tree. 

Also nearby, chickadees called from the treetops “chickadee-dee-dee”.

The boardwalk came to an end, and I hopped off onto the no-longer-frozen ground. The mud squished under my boots, making prints right next to some deer tracks. Like the fox, deer also commonly use our paths and leave a much nicer mark than the fox.

I reached the prairie and gazed over the area that used to be full of colorful wildflowers, now an orangey-brown grassy-looking area. Still beautiful. 

A call from above had me looking up in time to see two mature bald eagles soaring together in a circle right above the prairie. Calling out to one another they flew for a minute or two before flying off in the direction of the river. It always makes me smile thinking of how these large and majestic birds make such a soft and non-threatening call noise. 

I grabbed the sign that I went out there to get (I was working after all), and decided to take Goldenrod Loop back to the boardwalk to see what else I could find out there. 

At the intersection of Willow Trail and Goldenrod Loop, an orange jelly fungus on a branch stood out against the grays and browns of the winter forest. I admired it for a minute, taking some photos to show anyone who cared to see a squishy brightly colored fungus later on. 

Now on Goldenrod Loop, I was greeted with more muddy deer tracks, though I could see none of the animals that made said tracks around. Their fur camouflages them quite well, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they were nearby. 

A mouse dangled from the crook of a tree alongside the trail, placed there over a week ago presumably by a Northern shrike. A meal long since forgotten about. Probably too high up for our fox friend to find for a quick snack. 

Passing by the people-sized brush pile that we use for our school programs, I saw some rabbit tracks hop-hop-hopping over to it. Funny how the animals we talk about potentially using it for shelter actually do. I wonder if they think about what kind of creature made such a large brush pile? 

Back on the boardwalk, more fox poop. Branches swayed in the wind above, while juncos hopped around the ground next to the boardwalk, chirping at one another excitedly. Reaching the end, a rabbit zoomed across the path before I got too close to its hiding spot. Maybe it was the same one as before, or perhaps its friend.

Passing by the sky shed, a red squirrel chattered from the nearby spruce trees, I am assuming it was shouting “add more bird seed to the feeders!” but who knows.

Back at the nature center, I see more people heading toward the trail. While I was out there I saw three different groups of people out for a walk. Even more people came as the day went on, I am assuming that a lot of people had off today for the New Year’s holiday. It was nice to see that on their day off they chose to spend it in nature. I hope they all got to see and hear some of the amazing things I did while they were out there. 

Regardless of how short or long your walk is, there are always amazing things waiting to be seen out in nature. Come on out and see what you can find!

Photo by Kennedy Zittel