Monday, April 19, 2021

A Northwoods Almanac for 4/16/21

 A Northwoods Almanac for 4/16-29, 2021  by John Bates

 

World’s Oldest Known Loons Again Return to Seney National Wildlife Refuge

            The two oldest documented common loons in North America, named ABJ and Fe (“Fay”), separately returned on 4/8 from their oceanic wintering grounds to their long-term breeding territory on Seney National Wildlife Refuge in the eastern Upper Peninsula of Michigan. ABJ was banded as a Seney chick in 1987, so his age is known precisely: He will turn 34 this June. 

            His partner Fe’s age is less clear. She was first color-marked in 1990 as a successful Seney mother, but it’s impossible to age an adult loon. So, given that the youngest age of verified common loon reproduction is four, Fe will be turning at least 35 this season, but she certainly could be older. 

            While other banded adults have reached their late twenties, it’s even more remarkable that among thousands of color-marked loons across northern North America, the oldest two are not only paired together, but have been so for a record 25 consecutive years.

            Staying together that long in the intensely territorial world of loons is really phenomenal. While loons can mate for life, it’s a rarity. Nearly daily territorial fights take place on northern lakes between young loons seeking to usurp a territory and the defending territorial pair. Loons of either gender often get evicted from a territory by an invading younger loon, and when that happens, the usurped loon moves to a non-territorial lake nearby and soon after begins to look for a new territory and mate, which may require he or she to usurp another loon’s territory. Meanwhile, the loon whose mate dies or is evicted readily establishes a new pair-bond with the conquering loon. 

            So, loons are married to their territories, not to their mates. And since loons are long-lived and constantly threatened by younger interlopers, most loons end up having multiple mates during their lifetime. 

            Thus, 25 years of monogamy in the loon world is unprecedented. Think of it this way. In the human world, while we celebrate silver anniversaries at the 25-year mark, each partner in the marriage isn’t under daily physical hand-to-hand combat with an intruder trying to drive them from their home during the spring and summer. That would make 25 years together special indeed!

            So, let’s hope that ABJ and Fe can successfully repel all attacks this spring and settle in for one month of incubation of one or two eggs. Any chicks that ultimately emerge will extend the pair’s other record – they’ve hatched 32 offspring over those 25 years. 

            Visitors to Seney can observe ABJ and Fe on the first body of water along the Marshland Auto Drive in the F Pool. ABJ displays the very faded red over green plastic colorbands that were affixed during nighttime capture in 1996. 

            If you’re not familiar with the 95,238-acre Seney National Wildlife Refuge, it was established in 1935 as a refuge and breeding ground for migratory birds and other wildlife. It’s been a massive restoration effort because the land was once heavily logged, burned, ditched, drained and cultivated. Nothing worked for human settlement, however, so our entrepreneurial loss became a huge gain for wildlife. The refuge also contains the Strangmoor Bog National Natural Landmark and the renowned Whitefish Point Unit of the Seney National Wildlife Refuge, a Globally Important Bird Area for birds migrating between the US and Canada. 

 

Frogs!

            Our nearly 70° days in early April led to not only ice-off on most of our lakes, but also to the emergence of spring peepers, wood frogs, and chorus frogs on our many ephemeral woodland ponds. The male singing that has ensued is a flamboyant and boisterous pandemonium that, despite the April (and even May) snowstorms that we may yet see, proclaims that SPRING IS HERE. 

            All three of these species had to emerge from being encased in ice underground for weeks to months. Two-thirds of their bodies were completely frozen during this time, and they no longer breathed, circulated blood, or had a detectable heartbeat. However, within thirty minutes of thawing out this spring, their heart began to beat and they came back to life. After two days, they headed to the ponds to sing and mate, which given all they’ve been through, gives them license to be as loud as they want to be.

            And consider this positive side-effect of the Covid pandemic: Wood frogs are often joined by spring peepers and spotted salamanders in migrating to their breeding pools during rainy nights in early April, which on back roads works fine. But on busy roads, road mortality can be as high as 100% during the one night of the season that most migration takes place.

One study showed an average mortality of 20 percent of amphibians at any road crossing in a given year.

            But last year, with far fewer vehicles on the road because of the pandemic, twice as many frogs and salamanders survived the journey. In fact, one study (https://www.ecori.org/natural-resources/2020/7/21/pandemic-lockdown-spared-millions-of-animals-from-roadway-deaths) found that pandemic lockdowns last year spared millions of animals from roadway deaths.

 

FOYS (First-of-the-Years)

            Let’s start with ice-off. Woody Hagge has collected 49 years of ice data on Foster Lake in Hazelhurst, and this year the ice went off on March 30th. Woody wrote, “Foster went from 75’ to 100’ of open water yesterday morning along the north shore to ice-out this afternoon – all because of strong NW winds (30+ mph). This is the 5th time in 49 years Foster went out in March, and the 4th time in the last 15 years. Throw in 3 May ice-out dates in the last 9 years, and I’m not sure what to make of the data.” 

            Indeed, the last decade has been a roller coaster of spring extremes, which is congruent with what scientists keep telling us about climate change – it brings on extreme events.

            Woody’s average ice-out date is 4/16, so this was 18 days early. The average number of open water days on Foster Lake is 224. 

            Now to wildlife firsts-of-the-years:

3/31: Purple finches returned to our feeders in Manitowish.

4/1: We saw our first yellow-rumped warblers, one of which perched nicely on one of our porch railings for our viewing.

4/3: Mary spotted our first mourning cloak butterfly.


Mourning cloak butterfly, photo by Mary Burns


4/4: We heard our first chorus frogs.

4/5: Spring peepers began chorusing in the woodlands across the river from us. We saw our first kingfisher of the year. And on a walk at Powell Marsh, we saw our first American wigeons, northern pintails, blue-winged teals, green-winged teals, and sandhill cranes.

            Bruce Bacon, master bird bander, banded 80 dark-eyed juncos and 60 common redpolls at his house just north of Mercer. He said he could have banded more juncos, but only put up one net because he was catching them so fast. Juncos are everywhere right now!


dark-eyed junco, photo by Bev Engstrom


4/6: Out on Powell Marsh again, we saw our first redhead ducks. Fox sparrows and an Eastern phoebe returned to Manitowish.

4/6: Bob Kovar reported a loon had returned to Wild Rice Lake in Manitowish Waters – the ice went off the day before.

4/7: Pat Schmidt on Silver Lake in Hazelhurst reported her loon pair had returned, though the ice on the lake had gone off on 4/1. Since loons typically return on the same day as ice-out, it seems to me that many loons were taken by surprise by the early ice-off and simply weren’t scouting their territorial lakes this early. 

            Mary spotted our first northern flicker in Manitowish.

            Jennifer and Joe Heitz observed FOY tree swallows on Ballard Lake.

4/10: I heard my first snipe winnowing over our house. On a walk with Bob Kovar along Wild Rice Lake, I saw and heard numerous golden-crowned kinglets, and saw my first yellow-bellied sapsucker.

            And that evening before midnight, a very large – and I mean very large – black bear tore down our bird feeders. We came down and found it sprawled on our deck eating sunflower seeds and suet. No one to date has contacted me to say that a bear had hammered their feeders, and I was wondering when I’d finally hear from someone. No need to wonder anymore.

 

Salmonella Outbreak at Bird Feeders

            This is the time of year when salmonella occasionally occurs in people’s bird feeders. Bird symptoms include diarrhea, ruffled feathers (a “puffed-up” appearance), and lethargy. Birds who are showing symptoms usually die in 1 to 3 days.

            But there are dangers for humans as well. A recent salmonella outbreak at bird feeders has caused at least 19 people in eight states to be infected with salmonella due to contact with wild birds or bird feeders. The outbreak mostly affected pine siskins, goldfinches, and other feeder birds.

            The CDC encourages the following steps to prevent salmonellosis:

1-    Always wash your hands right after touching a bird feeder, bird bath, or after handling a bird – even if you wore gloves.

2-    Keep pets away from bird feeders and bird baths and the areas under them.

3-    Clean bird feeders outside with a 10% bleach solution.

4-    If you find a sick or dead bird, call the DNR or a wildlife rehabilitator, and remove any bird feeders and baths for two weeks.

                        

Celestial Events

            Look tonight and tomorrow night for Mars just above the waxing crescent moon. 

            The average low temperature in Minocqua reaches 32° for the first time since 10/25. Minocqua averages 182 days with low temperatures above freezing – almost exactly half of the year.

            The Lyrid meteor shower peaks in the predawn of 4/22 – look for 10 to 20 per hour.

            The full moon (the “Maple Sugar Moon”) occurs on 4/26. 

 

Thought for the Week

            Earth Day is April 22. What to do? Pone simple thing: pay attention to the world around you. Because . . . Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity . . . Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love. – Simone Weil

 

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

 

Thursday, April 1, 2021

A Northwoods Almanac for April 2, 2021

 A Northwoods Almanac for April 2 – 15, 2021  

Sightings – FOYs (First-of-the-Year) 

3/16: Our first dark-eyed juncos appeared in Manitowish.

3/17: The Manitowish River opened below our house, an early opening. 

3/20: We saw a northern shrike near Powell Marsh.

3/21: Mary Jo Oyer sent me this note: “I looked out the window and noticed this ermine. Cute but quite the hunter. The other day we watched as it chased a red squirrel to the very top of a tree that had to be 50-60 ft. high. The squirrel got as far as the top branch, hung out, then jumped to the ground! The ermine went down the tree and chased it back up at least 3 more times. One of those times when the squirrel jumped out of the tree, it ricocheted off of a tree next to it before hitting the ground. It must have gotten stunned because it was MIA for 5 minutes. Then it woke up and ran up another tree just as tall. The ermine chased after it and got it by the tail midway up the tree. The squirrel broke free and again scurried up to the top, then jumped all the way to the ground. This time it tried to run away through the snow but the ermine got it and took it behind our woodpile. I read that ermines need to eat about every 3 hours and eat about 28 grams each time.”  


Ermine, photo by Mary Jo Oyer

3/23: Mary heard our first winter wren on 3/23, our first cowbird appeared in Manitowish, and a northern shrike struck terror in the songbirds at our feeders. It was a warm day so I, along with good friend Bob Kovar, paddled a stretch of the Manitowish River, our first paddle of the year. Birds were sparse, but we did kick-up mallards, hooded mergansers, and wood ducks along the way. More importantly, it was glorious to once again be on the river.


Wood ducks, photo by Bev Engstrom

3/24: Several tree sparrows arrived in Manitowish along with a larger flock of juncos, while a pair of chipmunks scoured up sunflower seeds under our feeders for the first time since late October.

3/25: A fox sparrow and an American woodcock appeared in Manitowish. 

3-25: Ed Marshall in Lad du Flambeau sent me this note: “About 10:30 this morning, about 25-30 common redpolls were feeding on the ground. Suddenly a songbird-type about the size of a robin appeared. Gray above, white below, dark eyeline, black on wings and tail, and with a mean looking little sharp beak! The redpolls burst into flight and headed for the deep woods with the northern shrike (I’m sure) in hot pursuit. It was the best look I’ve ever had of one. I also saw my first robin of the year.”


Northern shrike, photo by Bev Engstrom

3/28: 
A dozen common redpolls reappeared at our feeders after 6 weeks of absence – where had they gone? We also saw our first northern harrier hunting the Manitowish River edge that same day.

3/30: Though I had seen robins earlier, this was the first morning robins were singing in our yard, a song we should now hear every morning until late summer. Hooray!


What’s in a Name?

            I mentioned in a previous column that I am writing a book on the last wild lakes of northern Wisconsin, and that I was trying to find the origins of both their Native American and their European names. Why? Because names carry deep personal, cultural, familial, and historical connections. They give us a sense of who we were and are today, and the communities in which we belong. They give things meaning. 

            The Native American names for lakes (and all places) are important because history books often embrace European names as “our” history without acknowledging that there are other narratives, and other names, that came before. 

            In the foreword to the book, Gidakiiminaan (Our Earth): An Anishinaabe Atlas of the 1836 (Upper Michigan), 1837, and 1842 Treaty Ceded Territories, it says, “ . . . it could be correctly stated that the entire essence of their cultures (Anishinaabe) is based upon a notion of geographic place which embodies their human origin, historical identity, and the way they conceive their cultural reality in the modern world. As distinguished from traditional European thinking, the general Indian (Anishinaabe) orientation is more toward space than toward time. Commonality of place, as much as of past, defines an Indian (Anishinaabe) tribe. Thus the importance of a particular geographic spot can no more be moved to a different location than the importance in European history of a particular event can be moved to a different time.” (Charles Cleland: Professor and Curator of Anthropology, Michigan State University). 

            Names tell stories of places. And, of course, those stories aren’t limited to the Native Americans. Place names hold echoes of French culture, and Dutch, and German, and all those who settled here in the last 173 years since statehood. 

            “Names are magic,” wrote Walt Whitman. “One word can pour such a flood through the soul.”

            Ask yourself why the Vietnam Memorial so powerfully evokes emotions when it’s just a wall with names on it? 

            Consider also that as of 3/28,  the United States death toll from COVID-19 was 562,150. That’s 562,150 names.

            In the book The Crucible, John Proctor wrestles over whether to sign his name to a confession of witchcraft and save himself from the gallows. He replies: “I have given you my soul, leave me my name . . . Because it is my name. Because I cannot have another in my life.”

            So, names matter, whether for people or places. 

            In my search for lake names, I’ve found quite a number of lakes whose European names have been taken directly from the definition of the Ojibwe names:

            Clear Lake in Manitowish Waters is Gaa-waaseyaagamig-zaaga’igan – “water so clear you can see through it.”

            Fence Lake in Lac du Flambeau is Mashkanaakobijigani-zaaga’igan. The root word, mashkanaakobijigan, means “a kind of brush or wooden fence constructed to enclose deer driven into it.” Fence Lake was “named for the fences that Indian hunters built out of brush to corral deer as they migrated south for the winter” (Gilbert J. Champan, in Memories of Lac du Flambeau Elders). 

            Thunder Lake near Three Lakes is Animikiiwi-zaaga’igan – “thunderbird lake.”

            Pine Lake north of Mercer is Zhingwaako- zaaga’igan – “place of the pines lake.”

            Lac Vieux Desert is French for “the old clearing,” or Doty gave it as “Old Plantation.”

 In Ojibwe, it’s Gete-gitigaaning-zaaga’igan – “lake of the ancient garden.”

            Trout Lake is Namegosikaa-zaaga’igan –  meaning  just that, “trout lake.”

            Other lake names were changed. Ike Walton Lake near Lac du Flambeau is Mashkiigwaagamaa-zaaga’igan – “swamp marsh water lake.” The Ojibwe name clearly refers to how shallow most of the lake is (mean depth 10’), whereas Ike Walton was a famed outdoorsman, author, and the namesake for the Izaak Walton League, a major conservation organization.

            Lake Owen near Drummond is Gaa-ginoogamaag-zaaga’igan – “long water lake.” Owen was an early geologist exploring the Northwoods in the 1800s.

            Still other lakes have simply been Anglicized: 

            Wabasso Lake is Waaboozo-zaaga’igan - “rabbit lake.”

            Wabigon Lake near Drummond is Waabigwan-zaaga’igan – “white flowers lake.”

            Shishebogama Lake is Zhiishibaagamaa – “lake with arms extending in all directions.”

            Lake Minocqua is Minwaakwaa-zaaga’igan – “heavenly place with a good stand of trees.” 

            Manitowish Lake is Manidoowiish-zaaga’igan – “little spirit [small animals] lake.”

            Given that the Ojibwe (the Anishinaabe people) migrated into the Upper Midwest sometime in the late 1500s to 1600s from northeastern North America, there had to have been names given to these lakes prior to the Ojibwe names, but these are likely lost. Perhaps they were similar, but the native people then may have seen or felt something different and given them another descriptor. Who knows? One way or another, we’re called to know the origins of place names, and to honor them by speaking them.

 

Sandhill Crane Count on 4/17

            Sandhill cranes have begun returning to our area - Mark Westphal observed one on Powell Marsh nearly two weeks ago – which means the annual Midwest crane count is soon. Mary and I have participated in the count for well over three decades, and we’re looking forward, as always, to this year’s. We paddle a section of the Manitowish River every year, and we always have a good story or two to tell after the count.

            The annual Midwest survey of sandhill and whooping cranes now spans over 90 counties in seven states. The count began in 1976, but didn’t expand into most of Wisconsin until 1985. Currently, more than 2,500 volunteer counters participate each year. 

            You needn’t be an expert on cranes to participate in the count. Mostly you just have to be adventuresome enough to get up very early and then sit at a given site before dawn no matter the weather!

            If you have an interest in participating in the 4/17 count in Iron County, call Annie at the North Lakeland Discovery Center – 715-543-2085. For Vilas County, call Sarah at 215-850-6007. For Oneida County, call Bob and Jan at 715-401-3214. If you live in other counties, see www.savingcranes.com for a full listing of other county coordinators.

                        

Celestial Events

            For planet-viewing in April, look after dusk for Mars in the west. Toward the end of the month, look for Venus low in the WNW. 

            Before dawn, look for Jupiter and Saturn both in the SE.

            On 4/4, we hit 13 hours of daylight.

            On 4/6, look before dawn for Saturn about 4° north of the waning crescent moon. The following morning, 4/7, look for Jupiter in the same place, about 4° north of the moon.

            The new moon occurs on 4/11.

 

Thought for the Week

            “There is a way that nature speaks, that land speaks. Most of the time we are simply not patient enough, quiet enough, to pay attention to the story.” ~ Linda Hogan