Ripples 1/12/23

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

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

 

Ripples 12/29/22

Each year for the past 120 years or so, people have ventured out across North America to count birds at Christmastime- between Dec. 15 and Jan 5.  They count in specific 15 mile diameter circles, one or more to a county on one particular day, record all the birds they find, and report results to the National Audubon Society.  In Manitowoc County, there are four such circles that have been counted each year for about the last 50 years.
 
I’ve participated in 30 years or so of such counts, either alone or with others.  I’m not able to do all four each year, but usually try to do the counts for Manitowoc and Two Rivers areas.  Others from Woodland Dunes’ staff also help with the Two Rivers count, which includes our nature preserve.  We were fortunate this year- the weather on both the Manitowoc and Two Rivers count days was cool, but not windy or snowy so conditions were good for birding.
 
We found a couple dozen species on each of the counts among our group.  The count at Woodland Dunes revealed a golden-crowned kinglet, a tiny little bird which somehow is able to stay warm in winter, traveling with chickadees and nuthatches in little flocks, one of the cutest birds ever.  Out in the grasslands it was a great day for hawks- kestrel, rough-legged, red-tailed, and northern harrier.  A lot of the remaining birds were close to the feeders, including a few American tree sparrows visiting from the far north for the winter.
 
In Manitowoc, my assigned area was in and around the City itself, so I concentrated on my home property and a number of city parks.  The usual sparrows, finches, and jays were present, along with a few less common birds like a Pileated woodpecker, bald eagles, an American robin, and a Yellow-shafted flicker.  One pond which receives warm water from a nearby industrial building had hundreds of mallards and Canada geese, plus a couple of less common black ducks.  Others who were out counting found a hermit thrush, cedar waxwings, and other wonderful visitors.
 
There were additional counts in the county, centered on Collins and Menchalville, which always yield interesting birds from their forests and extensive farm fields.
 
 So what happens with all these observations?  As you can imagine, Audubon has a lot of data to analyze- millions more observations every year.  Such large amounts of data across large areas makes it possible to document changes in bird populations, although it doesn’t tell us why those changes are happening.  Some birds are increasing in our region, like red-tailed hawks, blue jays, nuthatches, cardinals, and others.  Some are declining, like red-winged blackbirds (in winter), and evening grosbeaks, which are seldom seen here anymore.  The complete table is on Audubon’s website at  https://www.audubon.org/conservation/where-have-all-birds-gone.  Its clearly important to keep counting birds so that we can be aware of their population status, so that we can make good decisions on their behalf.  The International Union for the Conservation of Nature, scientists who have assessed the populations of more than 150,000 species of plants and animals use data like this to determine how species of animals are faring.  At present, they estimate that more than 42,000 species are threatened with extinction, and more than 900 species which formerly lived are now extinct.
 

The Christmas Bird Count is a longstanding tool for tracking bird populations in winter.  It provides us with information we need to make decisions on how to manage the natural world.  Although nature precedes us, and its scope is enormous, we have a great impact upon it.  Now, for the sake of the birds and for our own sake, we need to make rational decisions and act on them.

photo: Northern cardinal by Bruce Heimerman, taken recently at Woodland Dunes

Ripples 12/21/22

Snowstorms are special events, one of the memorable times that mark our lives.  As they approach, there is a mixture of both excitement and dread seasoning our anticipation as we make sure the snowblower runs, there’s gas in the car and the can, and enough bread and milk just in case. There is no satisfaction like the feeling that you are prepared for the worst- that you’ve anticipated every possible scenario and you are ready for whatever Nature brings.
 
Because they are so memorable and our brains are so fallible, as we age, we magnify the snowstorms of our youth. I think I now qualify as an “old-timer,” a designation which I embrace proudly simply because I have made it to at least my mid 60’s and have a few snowstorms in my personal history. And like many others, I swear that the snowstorms of my youth were much wilder than those experienced in recent years.
 
Fortunately, some people take the time to document things so that we know what is true.  And fortunately, there are scientists at the National Weather Service who for many decades have recorded all sorts of weather data to which we can refer when we are curious.  And fortunately, such information is made easily accessible to people like me who have so many questions about life and a desire to share those with others. So into the records I dove, seeking to justify the struggles of my childhood and the desire to downplay the hardiness of the generations after me. What fun to point out how hardy people used to be and how people nowadays are too soft.
 
Well, once again the certainty of my recollection is called into question by cold, hard, facts.  It turns out, that 2022 is not a very snowy year at all, but that could quickly change by the time you read this. As of today, the winter solstice, we’ve had only 20.2 inches of snow in Manitowoc, putting 2022 at 98th place out of the last 123 years of records.  A mere pittance in terms of snow! I think a lot of us would suspect that after the almost snowless winter of this year’s early months, and not much so far this winter- to date.  However, a big storm in the next couple of days could bump us up to around 60th place, right in the middle of the pack.  The middle, really?  I felt sure that recent years were much less snowy and harsh than when I was a kid. 
 
Let’s look at the 60’s, when I was young- snowfall for the years 1960-69 ranged from 14.8 inches to 63.1 inches- a tremendous variation! The average was 38.1 inches. In the 70’s when I was in high school and college, it ranged from .6 inches to 50.6 inches- an even bigger variation, and the average was 25.7 inches. But, I remember big snowstorms back then- those totals don’t seem too impressive. What about the 1940’s- my grandfather told me how he had to ski to work at Mirro some days and how snow drifts were up to the height of the power lines in the country. Well, there does seem to be a bit more then, ranging from 25 to 50 inches, with an average of 36.1.  So, about 10 inches more than the ’70’s?  It doesn’t seem too impressive.
 
Well, recent years must certainly be different- lets look at the 2010’s- they ranged from 15 to 67.6 inches, with an average of 34.2- hardly different than the 1940’s.
 
Few of us are around to remember, but the 1920’s seem to be a snowy decade- ranging from 92.4 inches (first place) to 28.1 inches, with an average of 59.3.  That’s quite a bit higher than recent years.  But one factor may be that we know temperatures are now warmer than they were 100 years ago, and we may be receiving more rain than snow. That would be interesting to look at but is beyond the scope of this writing.
 

Perhaps it seemed like there was more snow in my youth because I was so much shorter then. I do remember seeing photos of me beside towering sidewalk snowbanks, my snowsuit looking like a cocoon, and a smile on my face.  Regardless of the amount, snow adds beauty to the landscape, protects the soil, and gives us opportunities to have fun.  I recently saw a quote that was something like “If you choose to hate snow, you’ll spend the winter being unhappy, but you’ll still have as much snow.”  Amen.

photo- a snowy Woodland Dunes by Nancy Nabak

Ripples 12/15/22

Written by guest, Joel Trick

One of the most fascinating and unusual members of the Wisconsin fauna is the Star-nosed Mole (Condylura cristata). Though seldom seen by humans, this animal is widespread on Woodland Dunes properties, and can be active both day and night, year-round. A unique feature of this species is the star-shaped structure of 22 tentacles which surround the snout. As in all mole species, the animal has very poor eyesight, but uses these tentacles for navigating and finding food such as worms, insects and crustaceans.

The Star-nosed Mole is found throughout much of the northeastern United States and Canada, including most of Wisconsin. The animal is dark brown to black in color, approximately 7 to 8 inches in length, including the 2 1/2 to 3 inch long tail. The front paws are wide and adapted for digging with long, stout claws.

The species inhabits a wide range of moist soil habitats including swamp forest, wet meadow, streams, ponds and lakes. It lives mostly within a network of underground tunnels, pushing up excess earth into mounds that give away its presence. An accomplished swimmer, the species is active year-round and will even forage beneath the ice for its prey during frozen-soil periods.

The tentacles on the snout are the most sensitive touch organ of any mammal, containing over 100,000 nerve fibers in an area smaller than your fingertip. Using this sensitive organ, they can identify and eat food faster than any mammal on earth. They even have the ability to smell underwater, by blowing bubbles of air into the water and re-inhaling them to sniff for prey.

This species is also known to be above-ground more than most moles, and can fall prey to hawks, owls and snakes. Although I have never seen one alive, I have found a number of dead animals through the years. Some believe that certain mammalian predators kill them but leave them uneaten because of a foul smell or taste. At Woodland Dunes, I have seen their tell-tale earth work on Willow Trail, Conifer Trail, Goodwin Road, and on the lawn near the observation tower at the Nature Center.

Photos by Joel Trick