Friday, March 14, 2025

A Northwoods Almanac for March 14-27, 2025

 A Northwoods Almanac for March 14-27, 2025  

 

Sightings – Canada Geese, Redpolls and Pine Siskins Arrive

         Judith Bloom on Lake Tomahawk sent me a photo of Canada geese, trumpeter swans, and mallards all sharing a bit of open water on Lake Tomahawk. 


photo by Judith Bloom

         Individuals of all three species often return quite early, even when there’s little open water to be found.

         So, migration has begun, albeit for only a few species. The first songbirds are soon to follow. We expect to see our first red-winged blackbirds in the wetlands below our home right around spring equinox, with American robins not too far behind. 

         There may even be a few species already sitting on eggs – Canada jays and great horned owls are particularly early breeders and are often on nests by mid-to-late March.

         Other birds who have been wintering south of here are now stopping over for a while to feed or are passing through. Redpolls and pine siskins began showing up at feeders near the end of February and are growing in numbers. 

         However, American goldfinch continue to rule the roost at most residential feeders with many folks reporting a small army of up to 100.

 

The Character of Snow

         A heavy snowstorm like we had on 3/5 reminded me of the varying character of snow. On any given day, snow can create opportunities or problems, and every species has its own story on how it responds to the changing conditions.. 

         Snow can feed or starve; free or trap; freeze or warm. During the snowstorm, our bird feeders were crammed with birds, the most at any time this winter. The reason was simple – the heavy snow completely covered every branch and bud and blade of grass, making it extremely difficult to find other sources of food. So, for the songbirds, the snowstorm was a starving event. 

         But the heavy snow on top of the icy conditions from the previous day bent many trees over, bringing buds and conifer foliage closer to the ground for browsers like deer and hares. So, for them, it was a feeding event.


white pine sapling bent over with snow load

         For all the mice and shrews that have had so little snow to hide under this winter, this was a warming event – they now had 8 inches of snow to insulate them and protect them from being easy prey for predators. However, as the temperatures warmed and the snow began to melt, it became more of a freezing event for many animals, because nothing conducts heat away from the body faster than water.

         Still, as the snow warmed and began to “set up,” it became much easier for travel for a species like a snowshoe hare with huge feet that gives them an advantage on softer, powder snow. It became a freeing event.

         However, as the week has worn on and the temperatures warmed, the snow has developed a crust, which for deer, is particularly difficult for travel. They break through and really struggle. So, for them, a deep snow with a crust, is a trapping event.

         We humans tend to see snow in terms of three things: driving, shoveling, and recreating. Our needs have mostly to do with convenience and efficiency of travel, and very little to do with survival. Thus, we see snow in a comparatively superficial way that masks its complexity. If we were more closely tied to the natural world, we’d certainly see it in a different light.

 

Birding in Colombia

         I returned on March 1 from a 9-day birding tour of a small portion of the Colombian Andes. We birded from as low as 3,000 feet at the Laguna de Sonso to 13,000 feet in Los Nevados National Park, the highest part of Colombia’s Central Cordillera (a cordillera is a system of parallel mountain ranges with intervening plateaus). 


The "crew." with Vanessa, one of our guides, in the center.

         Colombia holds the title for having the greatest bird diversity in the world – nearly 20% of the world’s birds. Just to give you an idea of the astonishing diversity, I mentioned in my last column that Colombia supports 167 species of hummingbirds, but it also has 103 species of tanagers – we have just one, the scarlet tanager. The tanagers come in every hue and combination of colors imaginable. I think God and evolution conspired with a bunch of kindergarteners to create the most extraordinary looking birds possible using the 64 megapack of crayons that is usually reserved only for the most creative 5-year-olds. 

         We were in wetlands, tropical forests, dry forests, and cloud forests, as well as in the unique high-elevation paramo (at the limit of tree growth) ecosystem. 

         We tallied 256 species and then added two more while waiting for our plane in the Cali airport. We “only” saw 28 species of hummingbirds, in part because of dense fog on the day we were in the paramo where we had hoped to see more high elevation hummers.

         Absolutely perplexing to me was the fact I only had one mosquito buzz my ear the entire nine days. I loved their absence, of course, but I came prepared with my 100% DEET super juice only to see it languish in my pack. 

         Would that this would happen here in June.

         I had great trouble remembering the bird names as we went along, in large part because so many of their family names were brand new to me – motmots, gnatwrens, antwrens, conebills, puffbirds, honeycreepers, manakins, antpittas, brushfinches, cinclodes, tapaculos, peepershrikes, plushcaps, tyrannulets, and on and on.

         I have to admit I also had trouble remembering them because I’m old – new words seem to bounce off me now rather than be absorbed. 

         But I wasn’t there to become expert at bird ID or to add to my bird life list (I don’t keep one anyway). I was there to add to my life list of “WOWs”, and I’m fairly certain I used that word over a thousand times, likely to the chagrin of my three other birding buddies.

         I’d return in a heartbeat, though I think I’ll take a blindfold so I don’t have to watch the utterly suicidal motorcyclists take chances on the mountain roads and in the cities that no sane person would ever contemplate.

         I think I even learned ten words of Spanish. 

         So, gracias for reading this.

 

Celestial Events

         Hopefully the skies were clear and you watched the total lunar eclipse that occurred this morning, 3/14. Look ahead now to 3/29 when as the sun rises we will be graced with a partial solar eclipse. 

         The vernal (spring) equinox officially occurs on 3/20, but the moment when we begin to exceed 12 hours of sunlight actually occurs for the Northwoods on 3/17. On 3/20, the sun will be directly above the equator. And by 3/26, we’ll be up to 12 ½ hours of sunlight. 

         By the last week in March our average high temperature will be in the 40’s, so there’s hope that spring is somewhere hiding on the horizon.

         

Thoughts for the Week

         I gave a talk in Madison last weekend on various writers who have authored pieces about water, so here are a couple short passages to cheer us on toward the time when the ice goes off the lakes and rivers, and liquid water reigns again.

         “What we see in lakes depends much on what we bring to the shore - King Arthur's sword or the Loch Ness monster. . . Human beings are, in a sense, bags of water which evolved spine and intelligence enough to walk around and manipulate other forms of life and matter. It is not hard to imagine that when we stop to look into the sea or listen to a mountain creek, the attraction we feel is the water inside calling to the water outside, two ponds, perhaps, stopping by the road of time to trade the news.” – Peter Steinhart

         And from Sigurd Olson’s book The Singing Wilderness: “The movement of a canoe is like a reed in the wind. Silence is part of it, and the sounds of lapping water, bird songs, and wind in the trees. It is part of the medium through which it floats, the sky, the water, the shores. 

         “A man is part of his canoe and therefore part of all it knows. The instant he dips a paddle, he flows as it flows, the canoe yielding to his slightest touch, responsive to his every whim and thought. The paddle is an extension of his arm, as his arm is part of his body . . . 

         “He feels at last that he is down to the real business of living . . . Life for some strange reason has suddenly become simple and complete; his wants are few, confusion and uncertainty gone, his happiness and contentment deep.

         “There is magic in the feel of a paddle and the movement of a canoe, a magic compounded of distance, adventure, solitude, and peace. The way of a canoe is the way of the wilderness and of a freedom almost forgotten. It is an antidote to insecurity, the open door to waterways of ages past and a way of life with profound and abiding satisfactions. When a man is part of his canoe, he is part of all that canoes have ever known.”

         

Please share your outdoor sightings and thoughts: e-mail me at johnbates2828@gmail.com, call 715-476-2828, snail-mail at 4245N State Highway 47, Mercer, WI, or see my blog at www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com

 

 

Monday, March 3, 2025

A Northwoods Almanac for February 28 – March 13, 2025

 A Northwoods Almanac for February 28 – March 13, 2025  

 

Why Is It So Quiet When It Snows?

         “Freshly fallen snow is an excellent absorber of sound. The porous structure of the snow, with all the air pockets between the snowflakes, traps sound waves and dampens vibrations. This is precisely why it gets so wonderfully quiet when it snows.” – Neil deGrasse Tyson

 

Snowshoeing at Last!

         We finally got enough snow in early February to warrant wearing snowshoes, and what a pleasure it’s been to get out on them! One of our best snowshoe adventures began on a trail with wolf tracks immediately evident as we pulled into the site. The tracks ran the entire way down the trail until we came to a river. Here they went down the bank and left a dance hall worth of tracks out on the ice. We’re not sure what the wolves were up to – there was no sign of a fight or the consumption of prey, just a ton of tracks out on the ice in the middle of the river. Our best guess is they were just playing. Dogs play, including wolves.         

         Mary and I appreciated the opportunity to lead two snowshoe hikes during the month, and the enthusiasm folks had for winter and for learning more about winter ecology, was striking. For all the people who dislike winter, there’s a host of us who embrace it.

         Full disclosure, however – I love our woodstove, too. The older I’m getting (I’m 73), the colder I seem to be getting, so I’m always glad to come back to a warm home and a wood fire.

         We’re clearly blessed to have a home we love, one that is filled with memories of Mary’s grandparents who bought the place in 1924, and which we restored after it was sitting vacant for 13 years. Here’s what Scott Russell Sanders writes about the importance of home: 

         “The shell of a house gives only shelter; a home gives sanctuary . . . Real estate ads offer houses for sale, not homes. A house is a garment, easily put off or on, casually bought and sold; a home is a skin. Merely change houses and you will be disoriented; change homes and you bleed. When the shell you live in has taken on the savor of your love, when your dwelling has become a taproot, then your house is a home.”

         We have formed that taproot. We’re grounded here, and no matter where we travel, we are always overjoyed to return.

 

Sightings – Canada Jays and Big Pines

         Denise Fauntleroy in Watersmeet sent us a photo of several Canada jays coming to her bird feeders. She’s pretty blessed to have them given their rarity now in northern Wisconsin. They’ve visited her feeders for years, and Denise thinks they’re the same family coming back again and again.


gray jays, photo by Denise Fauntleroy

         Mary and I snowshoed back to one of our favorite old-growth white pine stands, and we were delighted to see them all still standing. I always hold my breath going back there because with a remnant stand of very old trees, many of which are declining, you never know if a big storm might have taken them down. 

         We had to do our requisite measuring of the biggest grandmother amongst them, and she was 50 inches in diameter.




         Another white pine nearby has an extensive lightning scar running the length of it, but it’s still going strong – I’ve attached a photo.


lightning strike on white pine, photo by John Bates

         

Porcupine Den Trees

            On one of our recent snowshoes, we came across an old porcupine den in the base of a large yellow birch, the den now abandoned for reasons unknown. Porkies often use the same tree over many years and may use the same den for their entire life (10 to 12 years in the wild). In fact, prime dens may be occupied continuously for decades, and the literature says that several individuals may use the same den site together or at different times, proving that while they’re prickly, their personalities apparently are not.

An individual generally occupies a den in November and uses it off and on until May. Porkies don’t hibernate, but they may spend their days asleep in the den or hanging out in the top of a conifer in which they’ve been feeding.

         The telltale sign of a den is a large mound of porcupine droppings at the base of the tree. Porkies are unusual in that they defecate in their den, and when the scat piles up, they plow it out in front of the tree. 


porkie den in old yellow birch, photo John Bates

            The scat is easy to identify. The pellets are elongated, can be straight or curved, and measure about 1 inch long and 3/8 inch wide, kind of like cashew nuts in size and shape. They’re mostly sawdust, so they’re often dry to the touch if you’re so inclined to pick one up.

            We mostly see porkie dens in the base of large diameter, old trees, but in other landscapes, they often den in rock crevices – 70% of porcupine dens in a study in the Catskill Mountains were in rock outcrops.

            Another easy sign of their presence is the presence of cut hemlock twigs on the snow. They scale the trees using their long claws and wrinkly paws, and often edge out close to the end of branches to get the newest, and thus tastiest, growth.  Look for the nipped twigs, cut at a 45-degree angle, scattered on the ground. They seem to particularly like hemlocks, perhaps in part because the snow cover under hemlocks is really reduced, making for easier travel for a very chunky rodent with short legs.

            Most often, they’re seen hunched into what appears to be a black ball high in a tree, minding their own business. 

 

Colombian Birds

         By the time you read this, I’ll be on a flight returning from Colombia where I just spent 9 days chasing birds with three other guys and two exceptional guides. 

         Colombia is the “birdiest” country in the world, with over 2,000 species of birds recorded, so I should have had a remarkable experience (I know, don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched – I hope I haven’t!).

         Most amazing to me is their count of 167 species of hummingbirds alone. Yes, 167 species. We in the Northwoods have – count ‘em – one species, the ruby-throated hummingbird.  

         I’ll report back in my next column on how many species we will have seen, but the guides indicated we should see 40 or more hummingbird species among the hundreds of other species we’ll encounter. My head will have been on a swivel and my brain overloaded and smoking, but I’ll bet I smiled the entire time. More on this in my next column.

 

Weather Stats for 2024

         According to the Wisconsin State Climatology Office, Wisconsin’s 2024 weather was officially the warmest year on record (since 1895) for Wisconsin – 3.8 degrees above the 1991 to 2020 normal. 

         Most areas experienced temperatures three to four degrees above normal, and a few pockets even reached four to five degrees above normal. 

         Dubbed the “Lost Winter,” impacts included a snow drought, early maple tree tapping, very short ice duration on most lakes in the state, and lost income for many northern businesses.  Additionally, early bud break in trees, grape vines, and flowers was observed across the state.

         Wisconsin also saw a notably wet year in 2024, ranking as the 13th wettest on record with a statewide average of 37.0 inches, compared to the normal of 34.05 inches. This included the wettest March-through-August period on record. However, conditions quickly switched to the sixth driest September-through-October on record, representing another “precipitation ping-pong” pattern like what Wisconsin experienced in 2023.

         

Celestial Events and Total Lunar Eclipse

         Planet watching in March nearly all takes place after dusk – no need to get up early in the morning to see the planets! Look for brilliant Venus low in the southwest, and then look much higher to find bright Jupiter also in the southwest. To find Mars, look high in the east, but by dawn, you will have to look in the northwest to see it setting. Mercury can be found low in the West.

         Saturn is hiding behind the sun and isn’t visible in March.

         For those eager for spring, in the first few days of March, our average high temperature will reach 32° for the first time since late November. Minocqua averages 268 days a year with high temperatures above freezing, or 73% of the year. Of course, that means 27% of the year we average high temperatures below freezing, but that’s the price we have to pay to live in the Northwoods. 

         On March 8, we will experience 11 hours and 32 minutes of sunlight, or 48% of the entire day. 

         A total lunar eclipse begins at 10:57 pm on March 13 and reaching maximum totality at 1:58 am. This lunar eclipse will be visible in its entirety from almost all of North America, including the contiguous United States and Central America, as well as from most of South America.

 

Thought for the Week

“[They] who marvel at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter . . . In winter, the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity.” –  John Burroughs, The Snow-Walkers, 1866

 

Please share your outdoor sightings and thoughts: e-mail me at johnbates2828@gmail.com, call 715-476-2828, snail-mail at 4245N State Highway 47, Mercer, WI, or see my blog at www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com

 

 

Saturday, February 8, 2025

A Northwoods Almanac for 2/14-27/2025

 A Northwoods Almanac for 2/14-27/2025  

Valentines Day

         Valentines Day has always been about the heart, but not all hearts are the same. Some hearts beat fast, and some beat slow. When they’re flying, hummingbirds win the Olympic race for the fastest heartbeat at 1200 beats per minute, or 20 beats per second. For comparison, at rest human hearts beat around 70 times a minute (4,200 times per hour, 100,000 times per day), but when we exercise hard, we can up our rate to 150 beats per minute.

         Hummingbirds not only have the fastest heart rate, they also have the largest hearts relative to body size in the entire animal kingdom. Their hearts account for as much as 2.5 percent of their body weight, compared to a human heart, which only accounts for 0.3 percent of our total body mass. Keep in mind that the total weight of a hummingbird is about the same as a U.S. penny – a tenth of an ounce. Well-known writer and birder Laura Erickson rightly notes that you could mail nine or ten hummingbirds with a single stamp. At 2.5% of that, a hummingbird’s heart only weighs 0.0025 of an ounce. 

         Or . . . basically nothing. 

         Still, a hummer’s heart is proportionately five times larger than ours, and all things being relative, that’s pretty darn big.

         The largest heart in the world, in case you’re wondering, lives inside a blue whale, weighing around 400 pounds (similar in weight to a small piano), and measures 5 feet long by 4 feet wide by 5 feet tall. 

         On the terrestrial side of things, the heart of the world’s largest land-based creature is that of an African elephant, but its heart “only” weighs 30 pounds.

         We mammals have hearts with four chambers; reptiles and turtles have three chambers; fish have two; and insects and mollusks have one chamber.

         As you can imagine, every creature has a unique heart. So, here’s your useless, but amazing, trivia stumper for the week: How many hearts does an earthworm have? 

         Well, an earthworm has five pairs of heart-like structures, but it depends on your definition of a “heart” – earthworms can be said to have either 5 or 10 hearts if you are flexible with your definition, or zero hearts if you’re inflexible.

         One of my favorite writers, Brian Doyle, says, “Every creature on earth has approximately two billion heartbeats to spend in a lifetime You can spend them slowly, like a tortoise, and live to be two hundred years old, or you can spend them fast, like a hummingbird, and live to be two years old.”

         All of this matters not one whit to the metaphor we attach to the heart, which is love. 

         And no one knows how to measure that.

 

Chippies

            Eastern chipmunks are quietly ensconced in their burrows for the winter, enjoying life in the light sleep of torpor and occasionally waking to eat from their stored cache of seeds. Unlike true hibernators who spend the fall eating gluttonously in order to put on as much fat as possible to get through the winter, chippies store the energy they’ll need for the winter via collecting and storing food away in their burrow. They’re hoarders, stuffing up to 8 pounds of seeds and nuts in their tunnels and burrow – they’d make a fine subject for an episode on the television show “Hoarders!” 

             Chippies not only hoard food in their burrow, they engage in “scatter hoarding,” caching stockpiles of food in various other outside locations in case they run out of food in their burrow.

            We’ve all seen them at our bird feeders during the fall stuffing their incredibly large, stretchy cheek pouches, each the size of their skull, with seed. They not only use their pouches to transport food, but also for removing soil while digging out their burrows – who needs a wheelbarrow?

            University of Vermont biology professor Bernd Heinrich found that he could easily stuff 60 sunflower seeds in one cheek of a road-kill chippy. Thus, a chippy can carry 120 seeds in one foray. 

            Another researcher found in one chipmunk’s cheek pouches 31 kernels of corn, 13 prune pits, 70 sunflower seeds, 32 beechnuts, and 6 acorns. 

            As for their living quarters underground, the main tunnel runs from 10 to 30 feet long with several granaries off to the sides. The two-inch diameter tunnels are typically 18 to 36 inches deep into the ground. The burrow usually has one unobstructed entrance with the opening of other tunnels that lead to the surface plugged with leaves. The sleeping chamber itself is six to ten inches in diameter and lined with leaves, grasses, and thistledown. Comfy! 




            For drainage, narrow tunnels are dug at the bottom of the burrow to carry water away. However, researchers haven’t found evidence of a latrine inside of the burrow, so perhaps chippies have to exit their burrow now and again? No one is sure.

            Chippies emerge from torpor when they’re triggered by warming temperatures and food availability, but it takes about one hour to do so. So, don’t be surprised to see a chipmunk bounding through the thawing snow on a mild winter day in March.

 

20th Year Anniversary of the 2005 Great Gray Owl Invasion

            The winter of 2004-2005 was noted for the extraordinary invasion of great gray owls into Minnesota and Wisconsin. Over 5,000 owls were estimated to have come down into Minnesota and Wisconsin from Canada, an aberration that had never been seen in living memory and couldn’t be found in any historical writings. An “average” winter, for comparison, would have of at most 35 great grays. 

The Minnesota DNR eventually released figures saying 750 dead great grays were collected (mostly along roads), and those were only the reported ones. 

             Steve Wilson of the Minnesota DNR said it best about the rarity of this flight, "This is the Haley's comet of the bird world."  


Great Gray Owl range map

            Callie and I drove to Superior on January 10, 2005, to see for ourselves. We arrived at 2:40 in the afternoon, and by dusk at 5:00, we had seen 22 great grays and one hawk owl. If we had had more time to drive the roads in the area, I suspect we would easily have turned up another dozen. 

In one five-minute span right at dusk, we saw eight great grays, and at one point, we watched three great grays within 100 yards of one another. 

That was as remarkable of a birding adventure as I’ve ever been on. 

This winter only a handful of reports of great gray owls have come in from northern Wisconsin, though several hundred have been reported in northern Minnesota.

 

Update on HWA

         I recently watched a Zoom presentation on hemlock wooly adelgids (HWA) given by Dr. Scott Salom from Virginia Tech’s Entomology Department, and there appears to be hope on the horizon for the survival of eastern hemlocks. If you’re not familiar with HWA, it’s a tiny insect from Asia introduced in a garden in Virginia in 1951, which has since spread north and south along the East coast killing millions of eastern hemlock trees. It’s currently on our doorstep in western Michigan, and when it arrives, it will cause profound mortality in our hemlocks.

         Scientists have spent the last 30 years trying to figure out what can be done to control the insect, and they’ve found a good chemical control, but the problem is that it must be used on individual trees, which is highly impractical for use in large forests.

         The key instead is to find a biocontrol, some organism(s) that is native or can be introduced, and which can live and reproduce over years, while killing the adelgids without causing other unintended impacts.

         A tall order.

         Two beetles, one native (Laricobius nigrinus) and one from Japan (Laricobius osakensis) have been found to have a significant impact during one of the two stages of the life cycle of HWA, but unfortunately not the other stage.

         Researchers are now researching and releasing silver flies (Leucotaraxis piniperda and argenticollis – both native species!) to try and impact the second life stage, but so far they aren’t seeing long-term reestablishment of them, so more work is needed.

         Eastern hemlocks are germinating and growing from seed in areas hard hit by WHA, so there’s still hope. When asked directly what the future looks like for eastern hemlocks, Salom said, “I’m not discouraged at all.” 

         For me, that was a thrilling statement, as well as further evidence of how important funding scientific research is to our forests.

         

Sightings

         On 1/24, Holly Nash in Hazelhurst sent me a photo of a northern shrike in her backyard, and noted, “Not surprisingly, there were no other birds in sight!” 

         If you’re not familiar with the diet of northern shrikes in winter, they prey on mostly small mammals like voles, mice, and shrews, as well as songbirds. They typically take smaller birds like pine siskins and American goldfinches, but can capture birds similar in size to them like a robin and even larger like a mourning dove. If your backyard birds see a shrike in the vicinity, they scatter quickly or freeze stock still at your feeders.


northern shrike, photo by Holly Nash

         Shrikes are always uncommon, but they seem even more so this winter. From a backyard birds’ perspective, that’s good news worth shouting. 

         Winter irruptions of shrikes are common, with peaks generally occurring every 3 to 6 years, but the reasons for such movements aren’t understood. 

 

Great Backyard Bird Count

         The 27th annual GBBC will be held Friday, February 16, through Monday, February 19. Each checklist submitted during the GBBC helps researchers at Audubon, the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, and Birds Canada learn more about how birds are doing, and how to protect them and the environment we share. Last year, more than 300,000 participants submitted their bird observations online, creating the largest instantaneous snapshot of global bird populations ever recorded.    

         The GBBC is a free, fun, and easy event. Participants are asked to count birds for as little as 15 minutes (or as long as they wish) on one or more days of the four-day event and report their sightings online at birdcount.org. Anyone can take part in the GBBC, from beginning bird watchers to experts, and you can participate from your backyard, or anywhere in the world.

         Please visit the official website at birdcount.org for more information.

 

Thought for the Week

A few lines from a poem by Andrea Gibson:

“In the chemo room, I wear mittens made of ice so I don’t lose my fingernails. But I took a risk today to write this down.

Wasn’t it death that taught me 

to stop measuring my lifespan by length, 

but by width? Do you know how many beautiful things 

can be seen in a single second? How you can blow up 

a second like a balloon and fit infinity inside of it?”

 

Please share your outdoor sightings and thoughts: e-mail me at johnbates2828@gmail.com, call 715-476-2828, snail-mail at 4245N State Highway 47, Mercer, WI, or see my blog at www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com

 

Friday, January 31, 2025

A Northwoods Companion for Jan. 31 – Feb. 13, 2025

 A Northwoods Companion for Jan. 31 – Feb. 13, 2025  by John Bates

 

The Upside of Extreme Cold

         The 3-day period from 1/19-1/21 where we had some serious sub-zero temperatures was very welcome. We hit -27°F as our lowest temperature on the morning of 1/21, and while I was standing close to our woodstove, I was applauding. And though some may think this as evidence of my ever-escalating insanity, it is only common sense. Cold is what helps to define us as the Northwoods. And actually, -27° is relatively minor in an historical sense. We used to hit between -30° and -40° regularly, once making us Zone 3 as defined by the plant hardiness zones established by the USDA. But now we’re considered Zone 4, with winter temperatures at their lowest reaching between -20° to -30°. 

         To state the obvious, severe cold creates hardships for plants and animals – the hordes of birds at our feeders during this period were visual evidence. However, hardship can be a good thing when applied to invasive species we don’t want in our area. For instance, emerald ash borer larvae burrow into ash bark for the winter where they cease feeding, purge all their stomach contents, and actually fold themselves in half. They are able to tolerate freezing by increasing the concentration of glycerol and sugars in their tissues to lower their freezing point – think of it like Prestone antifreeze. But like the antifreeze in your car, their antifreeze is only good down to a certain temperature, and then the fluids in their tissues freeze, and the insects die. 

         At 20 below zero, as much as half the population of emerald ash borers will die off. At 30 below, nearly all of the pests are likely to die.

         Same is true for what were once known as gypsy moths (Lymantria dispar), now called spongy moths. They begin to freeze to death when temperatures fall to 17 below, with 22 below considered the limit for the cold hardiness of their eggs.

         Likewise, hemlock wooly adelgids, an invasive insect primed to soon appear in northern Wisconsin, begin to die at 10 below, and most populations die at 20 below. If we get to 30 below, 99% typically die.

         Still, while these extreme cold events dramatically lower these populations in the short term, they don’t completely do away with them. They can and do rebound over time. 

            Wisconsin boasts at least 18,000 species of insects, all with a complex ecology, and extreme cold is only one of many factors that may control a specific population. For instance, when spring arrives and insects resume activity, the effect of local weather conditions at the time of egg laying and the emergence of the first offspring can overshadow any population changes that took place during winter. A spring thaw that encourages insects to reproduce followed by a deep freeze, for example, can be devastating.

            It’s complicated. Biological control of insects is a long game. Populations will swing up and down through time with the long-term goal being to find a balance. Still, extreme cold is one very effective tool for knocking back many harmful insect populations, and we should celebrate the cold when it comes.          

            And now I’m going to go warm my hands by the woodstove.

 

Birds So Far This Winter? Not Many!

         During some winters we’re the recipients of battalions of birds visiting from Canada, while other winters provide us with only modest numbers. Their presence or absence at our feeders depends primarily on how abundant their food is in Canada – northern birds  can tolerate cold, so that’s not really an issue. Given how few species have been present at everyone’s feeders so far,  it appears there’s plenty of food in Canada for many of the bird species we often see.

         To date (1/24), very few people are seeing pine siskins, redpolls, evening grosbeaks, pine grosbeaks, or bohemian waxwings. These species may yet wander down here if their food runs out in Canada, so there’s still hope. 


male cardinal in Manitowish, 1/24/25

         At our feeders in Manitowish, we currently have 13 species visiting: downy woodpecker, hairy woodpecker, pileated woodpecker, red-breasted nuthatch, white-breasted nuthatch, mourning dove, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, American goldfinch (40+), purple finch, American tree sparrow, one male cardinal, and one female grackle with a distended wing. 


male purple finch, photo by Bev Engstrom

 

WinMan Success Story 

         If you’re not familiar with WinMan Trails in Winchester, the 1,300-acre site has evolved from its inception in 2011 into a remarkable complex of trails for biking (mountain and fat), hiking, running, skiing, and snowshoeing. It’s now a destination trail system for Midwesterners seeking self-propelled recreation, but its reputation draws folks from much further away. In 2024, visitors from 30 states utilized the trails, with three-quarters of the visitors citing WinMan as the primary reason for traveling to our area.

         The organization recently issued its 2024 report, and noted that the system had 55,000 visits, which generated an estimated $4 million to the local economy. WinMan conducted a visitor survey from May to September in 2024, and found that 86% of the users lived outside the area. About half stay in a local residence owned by themselves, family or friends, and the other half spend money on lodging, as well as food, gas, restaurants, etc.

         On average, survey respondents stayed in the area for 4 days, and they enjoyed other recreational opportunities in our area like our paved bike trails, paddling our rivers and lakes, boating, hunting and fishing. It’s a great story of “build it, and they will come.”

         See the full report at https://www.winmantrails.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Economic-Impact-Report-2024.pdf

 

Knowles-Nelson Stewardship Program

         The Knowles-Nelson Stewardship Program (KNP) is up for refunding, and it’s important to know what it’s all about. The program preserves natural areas and wildlife habitat, protects water quality and fisheries, and creates opportunities for outdoor recreation. It was created 35 years ago and was named after two notable Wisconsin conservationists: Warren Knowles (R) Governor of Wisconsin 1965-67, and Gaylord Nelson (D) U.S. Senator from Wisconsin 1964-81.

         While the program is used to acquire land and conservation easements, it also invests money in a huge array of smaller projects such as developing and supporting local parks, boat landings, campsites, beaches, and recreational trails. For instance, KNP has helped fund dozens of projects in Oneida County, including:

·   The Minocqua boat landing

·   The Town of Sugar Camp Lion’s Park (play equipment, basketball courts, bleachers etc.)

·   The Brandy Lake beach in the Town of Arbor Vitae (play equipment, wood fiber base, timbers and access pad)

·   Renovation of the City of Rhinelander Hodag Park public boat landing

·   The Oneida County Perch Lake Park and trails (shelter, restroom and equipment storage)

·   Fredrick’s public boat landing on the Wisconsin River near McNaughton

·   The Bearskin State Trail (snowmobiling, biking, and walking) acquisition

·   Minocqua-Kawaguesaga Lakes chemical treatment of invasive Eurasian water milfoil

·   Parking lot, road, shelter, water system, toilet, and picnic area at the Town of Newbold Wooden Bridge Park

·   Lake Tomahawk boat launch restroom facilities

·   City of Rhinelander Boyce Drive boat landing

·   Acquisition of land for the Northern Highland-American Legion State Forest

         KNP funds are budgeted by the Wisconsin Legislature. It’s currently funded through 2026, but is up for review during this legislative session.

         The program is supported by every environmental organization I know, but also by a wide cross-section of other organizations including Ducks Unlimited, Pheasants Forever, The Ruffed Grouse Society, The Congressional Sportsman’s Foundation, Wisconsin Trout Unlimited, Wisconsin Waterfowl Association, Wisconsin Counties Association, the League of Wisconsin Municipalities, as well as a large majority of Wisconsin residents from all political spectrums.

         The program does cost money though. But as with anything, what do we want our tax dollars used for? The KN Stewardship program is estimated to cost each Wisconsin resident about $15/year and represents a tiny fraction of Wisconsin’s debt – only 2%. 

         See https://knowlesnelson.org for what we have received for that money.

         The program is truly an investment in Wisconsin’s present and future, and I recommend readers take the time to become fully informed on it. Personally, I think it will be the best $15 I spend this year, and, if the program is fully funded again, for years to come. 

 

Celestial Events

         Tonight, 1/31, look after dusk for Saturn about one degree below the waxing crescent moon. 

         Today also marks the anniversary of the first U.S. satellite sent into orbit in 1958. Things have changed just a bit since then. As of 5/4/2024, the satellite tracking website Orbiting Now lists 9900 satellites in various Earth orbits, of which about half are non-operational space debris. 

         Operating satellites are now registered in 105 countries or multinational organizations, but only 14 countries had satellites as of 2000. In the last two decades, 91 new countries launched orbiting satellites. The U.S. leads all countries by far with nearly 3,000 operational satellites. 

         Back to watching the night sky: Nearly all planet watching takes place after dusk in February. Mercury can be seen extremely low in the southwest and setting quickly; Venus is low, but brilliant in the southwest; Mars is high in the east; Jupiter is very bright and high in the south, and Saturn is very low in the southwest. 

         Regarding sunrises, as of 2/9, the sun will be rising only a half hour earlier than our latest sunrise.

         Why don’t the sunset and sunrise times coincide? There are two factors involved. The first is that the earth's axis is tilted with respect to its orbit around the sun, and the second is that the earth's orbit is not a circle but an ellipse. That’s the simple “answer.” But for the complex whole story, see http://www.larry.denenberg.com/earliest-sunset.html.

         The full moon – “The Sucker Moon” or “Hunger Moon” or “Snow Moon” – occurs on 2/12.

 

Thought for the Week

         If we’re not extremely careful about how we protect this incredible place where we live, this quote may come true for us: “Truly, we live in those long-ago times people will talk fondly of.” – John A. Murray