Sunday, June 22, 2025

A Northwoods Almanac for 6/20 – 7/3/25

 A Northwoods Almanac for 6/20 – 7/3/25  by John Bates

 

Sightings – FOYs (First-of-Year) of Flowers and Others

            The first 10 days of June saw a host of wildflowers and flowering shrubs come into flower. Here’s a sampling:

6/3: FOY wild roses, columbines, and bunchberries


bunchberries, photo by John Bates

6/4: FOY nannyberries and pagoda dogwoods

6/5: FOY blue flag irises and high-bush cranberries

6/8: FOY blue-bead lily (Clintonia) and the first cultivated roses in our garden

6/9: FOY tick trefoil along roadsides

6/10: FOY spreading dogbane, and the first tiny fruits of wild strawberries

6/11: FOY mountain ashes in our yard 

            Other FOYs of ours in Manitowish include our first Canadian tiger swallowtail butterfly on 6/6, the first painted turtles laying eggs on 6/7, and a black bear destroying our bird feeders on 6/8 (awfully late for this sort of behavior!).


Canadian Tiger Swallowtail, photo by John Bates

            Several readers emailed with their sightings of red-headed woodpeckers. Jane Vinson-Kafura and John Kafura have had families of red-headed woodpeckers spend the summer in their yard on Flambeau Lake for at least 10 years. They noted, “They love our suet feeders and sometimes get into tiffs with our pileateds.” 

Al Toussant wrote to say he had a red-headed woodpecker as well, “an exciting first.” He noted, “This handsome bird is very much welcome at our feeder because it has wonderful table manners. Unlike the Red-Bellied that visits far too many times each day selecting only the most perfect seeds to eat while scattering the ‘imperfect’ ones to the ground, the Red-Head is comfortable in taking and eating the first seed encountered, thus leaving seeds for the other birds that visit our feeder.”

Kurt Justice sent me a photo on 6/3 of a yellow-headed blackbird eating corn in the parking lot of his sport shop (Kurt’s Island Sportshop) in Minocqua. The bird stayed around two days and moved on.

            And Bob Von Holdt sent me a photo of the six incredibly cute trumpeter swan cygnets that have hatched out on Presque Isle Lake on May 30.


trumpeter swan chicks, photo by Bob Von Holt

Apples – Non-Native but Non-Invasive

I’m always harping on the importance of planting native tree, shrub, and wildflower species because of their coevolution with native insects, which results in their serving important ecological functions, and because non-native species are often invasive. 

But not all non-natives are invasive, and with that in mind, decades ago, we planted apple trees (and crabapple trees) on our property, all of which have perfumed the air this spring as they have nearly every spring we’ve lived here.

Some folks are surprised to learn that apples are not native to the U.S. All apples, including many crabapples, are believed to have been domesticated from a wild apple, Malus sieversii, in the Tien Shan mountains in Central Asia some 4,000–10,000 years ago. From there, apples spread to western Europe along the Silk Road and eventually hybridized with a number of wild crabapples from other parts of Europe. 

Over those centuries, people learned how to graft and hybridize apples so successfully that many distinct varieties were recognized more than 2,000 years ago. And by the time European settlement rolled around in the Americas, hundreds of varieties existed in Europe. Now today, we have over 7,500 known apple cultivars.

Though it's not clear how they arrived here, at least three crabapple species are considered native to North America: Malus coronaria, M. fusca, and M. ioensis. Most of our other crabapple species, native to Europe and Asia, prospered when brought here as seeds or cuttings by colonists.

The difference between a crabapple and an apple?  Malus trees with fruit that's two inches or more in diameter are considered an apple, while Malus trees with fruit smaller than two inches are considered a crab. 

All crabapple fruits are technically edible, but only if you like bitter tasting fruits. Henry David Thoreau's essay “Wild Apples” says it best: “[Crabapples are] sour enough to set a squirrel’s teeth on edge and make a jay scream.”

Most important to Mary and me, crabapples are loved by birds in the late fall and winter, especially cedar waxwings, bohemian waxwings, and pine grosbeaks, that is if the migrating robins don’t completely rob the trees before the others arrive.

 

Lilacs –Also Non-Native but Non-Invasive

            We live in Mary’s grandparents’ home in Manitowish, which they purchased in 1924 from Widow Stone (we would love to know the story of the Stone family!), and at some point in her grandparents’ lifetime, they planted lilacs (Syringa vulgaris) in the yard. Those lavender lilacs still bloom every spring, and for 41 years we’ve cut sprigs from the colony to perfume our old home.

            Lilacs are native to woodland and scrub forests from what is today Serbia and Bosnia. Folklore offers two conflicting stories on just who brought lilacs to America in the late 1700s. One story suggests it was Sir Harry Frankland, a very wealthy Englishman, who had a mistress living in New England. She loved flowers, and Sir Harry would bring her exotic plants, including lilacs, to woo her.

            Another story says it was an English sea captain, name unknown, who brought lilacs from Persia. No love story with mistresses, unfortunately, is included.

            The oldest living lilacs in North America are thought to have been planted around 1750 at the Governor Wentworth estate in Portsmouth, N.H. 

That’s 275 year-old lilacs! Old-growth lilacs – who knew!

Lilac fragrances quickly became popular to all classes of people. Thomas Jefferson wrote about his method of planting lilacs in 1767, while George Washington transplanted lilacs into his garden at Mount Vernon in 1785. 

            If you were a pioneer with the dream of carving a home in the American West, you’d bring a lilac cutting along, or buy one from a peddler, to remind you of home.

            One of the world’s largest collection of lilacs can be seen at Harvard’s Arnold Arboretum, which houses 408 lilac plants representing 171 taxa (kinds), including 133 cultivars. Together they provide a five-week season of scented air that likely would knock your socks off. 

The Arnold Arboretum has celebrated lilacs and the arrival of spring with an annual celebration, “Lilac Sunday,” since 1908. Attendance is huge, with a peak of an estimated 43,000 visitors in 1941!

Lilacs were designated the state flower of New Hampshire in 1919, because they’re “symbolic of the hardy character of the men and women of the Granite State.” But there’s a story behind this. When the NH legislature met in February of 1919, some members suggested nine alternatives to the lilac, among them the apple blossom, purple aster, wood lily, water lily and goldenrod.

The Legislative Committee’s original recommendation of the purple lilac, however, was approved and sent on to the Senate for their approval. The Senate, although leaning toward approving the lilac as the state flower, also wanted their members to consider the buttercup. No flower could muster up majority support, so the 24 members of the Senate came up with a novel solution. They placed the names of three of three flowers in a hat: the purple lilac, the mayflower and the purple aster. They then put a blindfold on the Senate Clerk and ordered him to draw a name from the trio he had been presented with. The purple aster was the flower name that was drawn, not the purple lilac.

The Senate reported its decision to the House, which unfortunately was determined to have the apple blossom as the state flower. Thus, a 10-man “Committee of Conference” was formed to solve the issue, but they soon found themselves at an impasse and proposed yet another unique solution. They approached two botanists, professors Arthur Houston Chivers of Dartmouth and Ormond Butler of “the state university” to arbitrate this dilemma, agreeing to accept their decision, whatever it might be. 

Within only a few days the two botanists were deadlocked as well. 

So, the previously deadlocked conference committee agreed to convene yet again, and finally voted eight-to-two in favor of the purple lilac (the other two wanted apple blossom).

The Governor thankfully ended the flowery debate and signed the purple lilac into law on March 28, 1919. (Wisconsin designated the wood violet (Viola papilionacea) as the official state flower in 1909, chosen by Wisconsin's school children.)

BTW, lilacs aren’t considered invasive, but lilac roots do spread one and a half times the width of the shrub, and they do send up suckers which will form a clonal thicket. Just be aware.

 

Cottongrass Display 

Jane Vinson-Kafura and John Kafura sent me a note asking, “Have you seen the cotton grass along Hwy. 47 on the west side of the road in Powell Marsh?  We have never seen it so completely cover the area as this year. Truly stunning!”


Cottongrass on Powell Marsh, photo by John Bates

Cottongrass expands via underground rhizomes, often growing in the deep layers of peat found in open, acidic wetlands. The overall effect is akin to a snowstorm in June.

The name is a misnomer. Cottongrass has no relation to cotton and actually belongs to the sedge genus Eriophorum.      

But the fluffy heads of seeds have long, whitish bristles attached, so they definitely look like tufts of cotton on long slender stalks. The bristles act as parachutes, carrying the seeds on the wind.

 

Celestial Events – Summer Solstice!

            Summer solstice takes place today, June 20, providing us with 15 hours and 44 minutes of sunlight, our longest day of the year. The sun will rise later the next morning for the first time since Dec. 27 and the day will be shorter by 0.1 second.

            The new moon occurs on 6/25. Look after dusk on 6/29 for Mars just below the waxing crescent moon. 

            And on 7/3, the Earth will be at aphelion – its farthest from the sun at 94.5 million miles. July 3 also marks the mid-point of our calendar year.

 

Thought for the Week

I cross an ancient brush fence and am fairly within the old hemlocks, and in one of the most primitive, undisturbed nooks. In the deep moss I tread as with muffled feet, and the pupils of my eyes dilate in the dim, almost religious light. - John Burroughs, Wake-Robin

 


Wednesday, June 4, 2025

A Northwoods Almanac for 6/6 – 6/19/25

 A Northwoods Almanac for 6/6 – 6/19/25 

 

Bird Counts

            Mary and I worked on two bird counts in late May – one in Iron County on 5/19 and another a week later on the Bear River on 5/26. The count in Iron County was our third annual and reflects an attempt to establish a baseline of what birds currently breed in the county so we know over time what populations are in decline, are stable, or even increasing. 

            We had counters in five general localities and came up with 114 species, a decline from the previous year of 137, but actually pretty good given the 40° temperatures and strong winds. Mary and I counted in the Mercer area working in a variety of different habitats including the Little Turtle Flowage, some wetlands along old Hwy. 51, the open fields of Mercer’s business park in Mercer, a woodland trail along Cty. J, and in and around our home area in Manitowish.

            Conspicuous by their absence were a number of ordinarily easy to find wetland and waterbirds like blue-winged teal, green-winged teal, ring-necked duck, herring gull, American bittern, and green heron. And we missed some ordinarily common woodland birds like winter wren, Eastern wood-pewee, and rufous-sided towee, 

Still, we did find a few that we didn’t have last year including American pipit, northern cardinal, warbling vireo, pied-billed grebe, and white-crowned sparrow.

The following week the temperatures and wind were far kinder – we began early in the morning at 42° but the temps spiked up to 68° by late morning, and the winds were negligible. We paddled up the Bear River a few miles from the put-in on Hwy. 182, and eventually drifted back down. After 5 hours, we tallied 61 species, the highlight for me being the numerous  occasions we heard northern waterthrushes singing. This is a warbler species that we seldom encounter, and we heard at least seven different individuals along the wetlands that bordered nearly all of the river.


Mary paddling on the Bear

Northern waterthrushes aren’t brightly colored, but they do sing an emphatic song that once you learn it is easy to ID. However, to see one is another matter. They are a furtive, skulking bird of shoreline thickets and shadowy understories, and we never saw a single one, no matter how close to us they seemed to be singing.  

            We love doing bird counts, though the getting up early has gotten a bit old. But once you’re out there, and it’s just you and the birds, that’s a slice of heaven.

 

Catbirds and Baltimore Orioles – A Love Affair with Oranges

            For the last two weeks, we have had both Baltimore orioles and gray catbirds sharing, albeit grudgingly, oranges that we’ve cut in halves and placed on a deck railing. The best moment was when we had a female oriole, a gray catbird (the genders look alike), and a male oriole. all in a line eating oranges.

Oranges must be quite a treat for the two species, but catbirds in particular are known for being fruit-lovers. While their diet includes a variety of insects – mainly ants, beetles, grasshoppers, caterpillars and moths – they consume fruits from dogwoods, cherries, blackberries, raspberries, elderberries, winterberries, et al. Averaging out numerous studies, the percent of fruit in their diet by volume varies throughout the year: Winter 76%, spring 20%, summer 60%, and fall 81%.


gray catbird, photo by Bev Engstrom

In one study in northeastern Pennsylvania, 75% of the fruits they ate during fall migration (collected from fecal samples) contained evidence of non-native fruits like honeysuckle, buckthorn, and autumn olive. While I’m glad a species like catbirds benefits from non-native fruits, the downside is that the catbirds then distribute the seeds far and wide through their whitewash.

Baltimore orioles eat an array of different food than catbirds, including caterpillars, fruits, adult insects, and spiders. They’re really good at picking insects from spiderwebs, and are an important predator of orchard tent caterpillars which they extract by tearing open the webs. In a Manitoba study, the nesting density of Baltimore orioles nearly doubled in the second year of a two-year outbreak of forest tent caterpillars.


Baltimore oriole female, photo by Bev Engstrom

In Colorado and New York studies, caterpillars formed over 30% of their total diet including other pests such as fall webworms, spiny elm caterpillars, tussock caterpillars, tent caterpillars, and the larvae of gypsy moths (now called spongy moths) and browntail moths. So, Baltimore orioles do their small part in reducing invasive insects.

But, they also can be a problem, picking peas from plants, fruit from trees and vines, and impacting tomato, citrus, and grape crops.

Nevertheless, they are gorgeous visitors at everyone’s feeders, and besides oranges, I’m told they also feed on bananas, which we’re going to have to try putting out for them.

They like the sugar water in hummingbird feeders or in sugar-water feeders specifically designed with larger holes for orioles. In natural settings, they feed on nectar, especially of trees, vines, and epiphytes in more southerly climes, and like other nectar feeders, they’re known to help pollinate various tropical plants.

 

Two Distinctive Voices – More on Catbirds and Orioles

Catbirds belong to the family Mimidae, and as their name (Latin for “mimic”) suggests, they’re notable for their remarkable ability to mimic a wide variety of birds and other sounds heard outdoors. Their vocal versatility stems in part from the structure of their syrinx, which has two sides. They’re able to produce sounds using both sides of the syrinx together, using the right or left side alone, or by switching from side to side. Both sides are able to operate independently, thus the gray catbird can sing with two voices at the same time.

The song bursts forth in a long series of short, syllables rapidly and randomly sung at an uneven tempo. Their repertoire includes syllables of more than 100 different types varying from whistles to harsh chatters, squeaks, and mimicry, resulting in what sounds like an improvised babble of notes with the familiar “mew” tossed in on occasion. To me, they’re jazz musicians improvising tunes only they can play and understand.

Their song is similar to our other mimics – brown thrashers and northern mockingbirds –  but catbirds usually don’t repeat phrases, whereas thrashers often repeat phrases twice and mockingbirds three times.

A catbird’s song may last up to 10 minutes with the phrases delivered at rate of about 90 per minute. One Michigan bird employed 170 different syllables during 4.5 minutes of song.

They do imitate the songs and calls of other birds found in the same or adjacent habitats, and are believed to mimic at least 44 species of birds, Eastern gray tree frogs, and a variety of mechanical sounds. But laboratory evidence indicates that the male’s song results mostly from improvisation and invention, not via imitation. 

            Baltimore orioles don’t mimic anybody. Instead, they sing a variable, rich, and strong song that consists of relatively few notes or groups of notes. It is “loud, clear and of flutelike quality,” says one account. Another account refers to the notes as “pure tones.”

They also give a loud chatter call consisting of many repetitions of the same note – up to 38 for males.

Male Baltimore orioles like to continuously switch among song types, only rarely repeating the same song even two or three times in succession. They apparently get bored with singing the same old tunes! 

 

The Huron Mountain  Club

            In mid-May, I was finally able to visit the Huron Mountain Club, a private enclave of 16,000+ acres on Lake Superior in the U.P. of Michigan. The Club has retained around 8,000 acres of remnant old-growth hemlock-hardwood forest, making it the third most important site in the entire upper Midwest for old-growth forest. So, naturally I’ve been juiced to go there for decades, but entry is only permitted by invitation from one of the Club members or by being a part of a research team.

            I was lucky to be able to tag along with a couple researchers looking at the impacts of deer browse on hemlock reproduction, and then doubly lucky to have a little time to myself to explore one small area that represented the best remnant white pines on the property. One of the researchers took us right to a 53” diameter breast height (dbh) white pine, the largest diameter he knew of on the property, and the largest I have ever seen in my many years of looking for old-growth in natural woodlands. Later, I found along a creek a 56” dbh white pine with what appeared to be a large and very old fire scar. 


53" dbh white pine in the Huron Mts.

            Wow!

            Michigan and Wisconsin settlers and loggers did an extraordinary job of cutting 99.9% of our old-growth pines, so they’re a rare commodity these days. Seeing these big grandmother trees was quite the blessing.

 

Sightings – Loon Attack, White Pelican, Cedar Waxwings, and Red-headed Woodpeckers

            John Randolph in Hazelhurst  sent me this note on 5/23: “My daughter Kat and I witnessed several close-by attacks by a Loon on a sizeable group of Common Merganser ducklings, being defended by the Merganser female. It appeared that some of the ducklings did not survive. The Loon seemed to attack from under water. Also, at the same time, there was a pair of loons nearby, not involved in the attacks. Our lake is small, and loons have tended to nest on a larger, connected lake.”

            Territorial loons are well-known for attacking other waterfowl on “their” lake, as well as having unmated loons attack them in an attempt to usurp their territory. Life in the world of loons isn’t all lovely wail calls echoing across a calm lake.

            Mary’s and my most remarkable sighting of the month was on May 27 when we watched a white pelican lounging on Whitney Lake near Boulder Junction. White pelicans currently are known to nest in at least seven different locations in Wisconsin, none of which are remotely near Boulder Junction. However, since the birds don't mate and nest until five or six years of age, non-breeding pelicans are being seen in other parts of the state, too, so perhaps this was a younger one out on a foray checking out possible future nesting areas, or just out on a lark.

            Cedar waxwings returned to our yard on May 25, which usually signals to me the end of bird migration and the end of what passes for us as “spring.” The waxwings immediately began eating the petals from our numerous apple and crabapple trees, a practice I have come to believe doesn’t harm the flowers and thus ultimately the fruit.


cedar waxwing eating crabapple petals, photo by Bev Engstrom

            Finally, red-headed woodpeckers made a splashy appearance around the Northwoods for a few days in mid-May. 

            Paul Strong in Hazelhurst emailed me on 5/16 saying they had a red-headed woodpecker at their suet feeder. He noted, “There have been a number of forest management activities in the four square miles around our house. Many of them are significant thinnings, which may be attracting more RHW's for a while.” 


red-headed woodpecker, photo by Bob Kovar

            Paul, the former forest supervisor for the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest, knows his habitats. Red-headed Woodpeckers are most often found in a variety of forested habitats with a certain degree of openness and presence of dead limbs or snags for nesting purposes. They’re a cavity nester, so they have to compete for nesting sites, which can be a problem in areas where nest sites are scarce and/or where aggressive interactions with the non-native European starling take place.

            They remain quite uncommon in the Northwoods – they’re a species of special concern throughout the state – so any sighting of them is a good day.

            We had one show up at our feeders on 5/18, but it only stayed a day. Bob Kovar in Manitowish Waters had one also appear on 5/18, and he sent me some fine photographs of it.  

 

Thought for the Week

            “I hope you love birds, too. It is economical. It saves going to Heaven.” – Emily Dickinson

 


 

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

A Northwoods Almanac for 5/23 – 6/5/25

 A Northwoods Almanac for 5/23 – 6/5/25 

 

FOYs (First-of-Year Sightings)

I swear there is no more exciting time of year than the first two weeks of May. Spring ephemeral wildflowers are wildly blooming and bird migration is in full swing. The Earth is coming back alive, fervently alive, and all we have to do is go out and enjoy it. 

So, with around 150 nesting birds returning to the Northern Highlands, plus the migrants passing through, and dozens of wildflower species peaking, it’s a homecoming of sorts, and the FOYs can make your head spin

5/4: On a hike at the Plum Lake Hemlocks State Natural Area, we saw and/or heard our FOY black-throated green warblers and ovenbirds, and leatherwood (Dirca palustris) had come into flower.

5/5: We had our FOY rose-breasted grosbeak come to one of our feeders in the morning. Then on an afternoon hike in Sylvania, we had our FOY blue-headed vireo.

5/7: On a hike on the Logan Creek Preserve State Natural Area in Door County, we saw our FOY spring beauties, large-flowered trilliums, trout lilies, sharp-lobed hepatica (we see round-lobed hepatica almost exclusively around here), cut-leaved toothwort, large-flowered bellwort, and wood anemone. On the shoreline of Clark Lake within the Logan Preserve, we saw our FOY great egrets, white pelicans, and double-crested cormorants.

5/8: On a hike at the Ephraim Preserve at Anderson Pond, we heard our FOY great-crested flycatchers and Nashville warblers, which BTW, have nothing whatsoever to do with the city of Nashville – just for the record. Later in the day, we hiked at the Sturgeon Bay Ship Canal Nature Preserve and saw numerous FOY Caspian terns and northern rough-winged swallows.

5/9: Our FOY ruby-throated hummingbird stopped by for a sip from one of our sugar water feeders. And very oddly, in the early evening a whip-poor-will began singing below our house, the first time we’ve ever had a whip-poor-will on our property in 41 years.

5/10: On a bird hike at Powell Marsh, we saw two horned larks, a grassland species that rarely nests here. They were most likely just passing through.

5/11: Juneberries came into flower. On a Mother’s Day hike on the Escanaba Trail, we heard our FOY least flycatcher, Blackburnian warbler, parula warbler, and yellow-throated vireo. We also saw our FOY barren strawberries in flower. It’s been so dry in our area that many spring flowers seem to have been waiting for a big rain before they’re willing to risk flowering.

5/12: Four Baltimore orioles appeared at our home in Manitowish and immediately began eating the oranges we had put out for them in anticipation of their arrival.

5/12: On a bird walk on Powell Marsh, we came upon my FOY marsh wrens singing up a storm in some old cattail stalks from last year (see their surprising natural history later in this column).

5/13/25: I saw or heard my FOY magnolia warbler, scarlet tanager, and chestnut-sided warbler on Deadhorse Trail in Iron County.

5/13/25: The redhorse were spawning beneath the bike bridge over the Manitowish River. It’s hard to estimate their numbers, but I’ll bet we saw at least a hundred fish all lined-up facing upstream in the current waiting for the magic of spawning to begin.

 

Avoiding Mosquitoes 101

Mosquitoes began hatching out on 5/15 after a good rain the prior evening. And so begins the summer-long battle to repel them. Like in any battle, you need to know your enemy, so here are the things they key in on, and thus you need to limit.

One: Mosquitoes locate their targets by sensing the carbon dioxide emitted in your breath – they can detect carbon dioxide from as far as 100 feet away. So, do what you can to slow your breath down and stay calm. The more excited you are, the more excited they are.

Two: Mosquitoes find victims at closer range by smelling a chemical cocktail of odors that can include lactic acid, ammonia and other substances expelled via human sweat. They are also attracted to people with higher body temperatures. So, avoid strenuous exercise which increases lactic acid and heat in your body. 

Three: Mosquitoes also use vision to locate humans, so don’t wear dark colors that attract them –  black, dark red, and orange. Colors like green, blue and white are less attractive. And wear loose clothes – mosquitoes bite right through tight clothes.

Four: Despite doing all the right things, some people seem to be mosquito magnets. Why? One reason is blood type. One study found that mosquitoes landed on people with Type O blood nearly twice as often as those with Type A, while people with Type B blood fell somewhere in the middle. So, while there’s nothing anyone can do about their blood type, at least you can take some solace in knowing why you’re loved by your local mosquito army.

 

Yellow Warblers

Mary and I often walk the dikes on Powell Marsh, and we always look forward to seeing the FOY yellow warblers in the willow and alder thickets that clothe the wet edges of the dikes. This year they arrived on May 9th  from their wintering grounds in Central and South America. 

Yellow warblers are easily identifiable because of being strikingly yellow with variable amounts of chestnut streaking on their breast – they’re the “canary” of our northern warblers.

Their songs generally fit the mnemonic “sweet sweet sweet I'm so sweet” or “sweet sweet sweet sweeter than sweet,” but their songs can be quite variable within and between populations. Most male yellow warblers have song repertoires of up to 20 song types, so they can fool even careful listeners (I speak from personal experience).

What I find particularly amazing about them is how yellow warbler females respond to cowbirds who regularly parasitize their nests by adding their eggs to the yellow warbler’s eggs. They respond to these incursions by burying the cowbird’s eggs as well as their own with plant material, and then re-laying eggs on the new nest floor. 



The problem with that is the female cowbird often returns and lays more eggs on the new second floor. So, the female yellow warbler again covers those eggs, as well as her own, and then lays her third set of eggs. And on it goes. These multitiered nests can become little skyscrapers. In an Ontario study, researchers recorded 29 two-tiered nests, 7 three-tiered, 2 four-tiered and 1 five-tiered nest out of 399 parasitized nests. One warbler nest even had 6 tiers and contained 11 cowbird eggs, distributed as follows: 1 cowbird egg laid during nest construction, 3 eggs in first tier, 1 in second tier, 2 in third tier, 2 in fourth tier, 1 in fifth tier, and 1 in the sixth tier. The nest was 14.6 cm (nearly 6 inches) tall – a high-rise condo!

The good news is that yellow warblers are often successful in rearing their own young even while raising the brown-headed cowbird young.



            Look for yellow warblers nesting in shrubby thickets along the shores of many of our regional lakes.

 

Spruce Budworm

On numerous hikes over recent years, Mary and I have noticed lots of downed balsam firs laying across and along trails, many of which are smaller trees that one would think should be healthy. The culprit killing them is the eastern spruce budworm (Choristoneura fumiferana), a native forest insect of coniferous forests across the upper Midwest. 



Despite its name, balsam fir trees are most susceptible to budworm, while spruces are only moderately susceptible. 

The budworm larvae feed on new foliage growth through May and June, then pupate and emerge as brown moths by mid-July. The adult moths then mate, lay eggs, and eventually die in later summer.

The budworms feed first on the outer branch shoots in the upper crowns of the trees, and the partially eaten needles can be seen webbed onto branch tips and turned to a reddish-brown color.

Long-term damage on balsam firs from budworm defoliation can kill the tree tops in 2 to 3 years, but repeated defoliation causes the trees to usually die after 3 to 4 years.

Spruce budworm has been causing defoliation in Wisconsin since 2012 according to Linda Williams, Wisconsin DNR forest health specialist. Outbreaks occur every 30-50 years, and usually last about 10 years.

“Our last round was in the 1970s,” says Williams. “Unlike our hardwoods – which, if their leaves are eaten early in spring, will send out additional leaves to get them through the rest of the year – our conifers don’t re-foliate after their needles have been eaten. The growth they push out in the spring is all they’ve got. These trees can suffer top die-back or die completely.”

Homeowners with just a few spruce or fir trees to protect can treat them with the biological insecticide Btk (Bacillus thuringiensis var. kurstaki).

 

Marsh Wrens – The “Nazi” Bird

On a recent bird hike in Powell Marsh, our group came across a cattail stand with numerous marsh wrens singing their reedy, gurgling songs. 



I think the song is really quite pretty, but others see it differently. Early ornithologist Alexander Wilson thought it “deficient and contemptible in singing,” similar to the sound “produced by air-bubbles forcing their way through mud or boggy ground when trod upon.”  Audubon compared the “song, if song I may call it... [to]... the grating of a rusty hinge.” 

There’s no denying, however, how complex their songs are. Males learn 50 to 200 song types and engage in complex counter-singing duels with other males, singing almost continuously, day and night, in their bid for a territory. In their zeal, the males also build at least a half dozen dummy nests for every breeding nest ultimately used by a female.

Marsh wrens are also known for their habit of not only destroying the eggs of other species, but also of other marsh wrens. Both male and female marsh wrens of all ages peck and destroy eggs if given the chance, and thus the species has earned the title from one writer as the “Nazi” bird. 

The aggressive interactions with other species goes both ways. While male wrens destroy both the eggs and young nestlings of yellow-headed blackbirds, the yellow-headed blackbirds sometimes perch on or in front of wren brood nests, thus blocking the female wren's return to incubate. They also are known to chase marsh wren males and hop up and down on their nests, compressing them. 

Both male and female red-winged blackbirds get in on the aggression too, also attacking singing marsh wrens. The smaller wrens typically escape by dropping into dense vegetation that the larger blackbirds can’t fly through.

Why are they harassing the wrens? In one study, a researcher watched male wrens destroy and partly drink contents of red-winged blackbird eggs, and 14 of 51 blackbird nests showed evidence of wren destruction. A later study found that wrens destroyed up to 52% of red-winged blackbird nests in a British Columbia marsh.

 

Thought for the Week

“The ultimate test of man's conscience may be his willingness to sacrifice something today for future generations whose words of thanks will not be heard.” – Gaylord Nelson

 

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

 

 

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

A Northwoods Companion for 5/9-22, 2025

A Northwoods Companion for 5/9-22, 2025  by John Bates

 

Great Backyard Bird Count – A Great Success!

Cornell’s Great Backyard Bird Count was held Feb. 14-17, and wow, a bunch of worldwide records were set! Some 8,078 bird species were found, representing about 74% of the 10,960 species on the planet. This was 158 more than were found in 2024.  

In North America, 792 species were recorded in Mexico, 670 in the U.S. and 247 in Canada, though those totals were dwarfed by species reported in South America, including the 1,376 in Colombia, 1,137 in Ecuador and 1,094 in Brazil.

Outside the Western Hemisphere, India was the top country with 1,085 species, while Kenya led all countries in Africa with 700.

Closer to home, people in 71 of Wisconsin's 72 counties participated in this year's GBBC and reported 128 species (Vilas County folks found 24 species, Iron County 18).

Worldwide, an estimated 838,113 people took part, which is a remarkable statistic in and of itself and amply demonstrates the immense popularity of bird watching.

The largest flock of birds recorded was 500,000 European starlings in England. In California, a flock of 350,000 common murres were seen off the Pacific coast, and about 200,000 greater and lesser flamingos were reported at a site in Tanzania – can you imagine what that must have looked like?

 

Planting for Hummingbirds

            Hummers usually arrive right around Mother’s Day, so get your feeders out if you haven’t already. And rather than just providing sugar water, consider planting species that provide real nectar over the long run like butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa), bee balm (Monarda), cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis), columbine (Aquilegia canadensis), and jewelweed (Impatiens capensis).

 

Sightings – FOYs (First of Year)

4/18: FOY yellow-rumped warblers coming to our feeders, which is unusual. Tree swallows on Powell Marsh, but no insects hatching. Frog Lake opened up and is ice-free.


yellow-rumped warbler, photo by Bev Engstrom

4/19: Harris’s sparrow at our feeders in Manitowish.

4/21: FOY brown thrasher below our feeders. Pied-billed grebes out on Powell.

4/23: White-throated sparrows returned to our feeders. And it was Mary and my 46th anniversary! We hiked a seven-mile section of the North Country Trail in celebration.

4/24: FOY woodcocks, and the first female red-winged blackbirds appeared. They’re usually two to three weeks later than the males.

4/26: FOY American bittern on Powell Marsh.

4/27: FOY pine warbler.

4/28: FOY swamp sparrows, and Wilson’s snipes are now winnowing over our house.

 

Mosquito Time is Coming!

Enjoy, really and truly enjoy, this last week or so of mosquito-free hiking. The first big hatch usually occurs around May 20, but it depends on the weather – warm and wet as we all know brings them out quicker. 

 

Maple Syrup Season

            Whenever I need further education in the art and science of maple sugaring, I call my friend and internationally-known forester Bob Simeone who has been making maple syrup for 38 years near Land O’Lakes. I wanted to confirm with him that this was a good year for syrup given our plethora of above freezing days and below freezing nights, which is the general rule for a robust season of sap. 

Well, I was partially right. It was a good season for quantity, but a poor season for quality. 

I hadn’t accounted for two major factors. First, Bob told me, you have to remember that the previous summer, defined as mid-May to the end of July, determines in large part the sugar content of the sap for the following spring. This is the period when sugar maples have leafed out and are doing their maximum photosynthesizing (PHS).

You may remember early summer last year was often wet, cool, and cloudy, conditions less conducive for PHS than warm, sunny, and dry. The better the PHS, Bob said, the higher the sugar content in the sap the following spring.

Given this, Bob predicted that a lower sugar content would be the case this spring, and he was right on the money. Sugar content in the first spring run of sap is usually from 3.5 to 3.7%, which makes for a light, amber colored, and mild flavored syrup. As the weather slowly warms, the sap runs decline in sugar content until they reach 2%, at which point it’s usually close to 60° and Bob pulls his taps.

This spring, the first sap run occurred very early, the second week of March when our daytime temps hit 60° for several weeks. Bob tapped then, and his first run of sap was abundant, but low in sugar – only 2.5% – and thus the resulting syrup was dark and strong-flavored from the get-go. 

Bob made 10 gallons of syrup in this first run, and by the next run, the sugar content had dropped to 1.5%, much too low to continue the effort of boiling sap, so Bob pulled his taps. Bob usually makes 40 gallons in a good year, so by his standards, this was a poor year indeed.

Bob noted, however, that lots of syrup makers did not pull their taps, and the sap kept running, but made for a very dark and strong-flavored syrup.

And that’s where the second factor has to be taken into account, and that’s the magic number of 60°, a point where the trees begin to metabolize leaves, and the sap becomes sulfur smelling. Why 60° is the magic number, Bob doesn’t know, but he does know that it’s a real thing, and that it always means the end of the season.

The problem with this spring season is we began early on with 60° temps, but then we reverted to a more normal spring with fluctuating temps between 20° or so at night and 40° or so during the day. That spell of 60° contributed to the conversion of sap to a lower sugar content and the resulting dark syrup.

Bottom line? For those who kept tapping, this was a good year for the quantity of sap, but  the sap boiled down to a low quality syrup. Quantity vs. quality – an issue in a thousand other things, too. 

 

Spring Flowers!

By the time you read this, spring ephemerals should be in full riot. However, as of this writing on May 1, flowers are still just poking through.

4/23: Pussy willows flowering.

4/27: Silver maples flowering.

4/28: Male and female flowers on hazelnut and tag alders. Quaking aspen flowering.

4/29: Trailing arbutus and round-lobed hepatica were just beginning to flower in Frog Lake and Pines SNA.


Trailing arbutus, photo by Mary Burns

 

FE Returns!

I wrote in my last column about ABJ, the world’s oldest known banded loon as a chick, returning to the Seney National Wildlife Refuge in the U.P. on April 11. At that time, however, his female mate for much of his life, “Fe,” had not returned.

Well, refuge researches announced on 4/29 that she had arrived in Seney, settling upon I Pool, her Seney home since splitting from ABJ in 2022. Fe was first color-marked in 1990 when she was at least four years old, and thus will be at least 39 this summer. Although ABJ is the eldest common loon of known age, turning exactly 38 this June, Fe could well be 42 or 47, and occupies the pedestal of the most senior documented member of her species. 

Last year, Fe and an unbanded male produced two offspring, but, unusually, both perished within weeks. The long-term average for chick survivorship among all refuge pairs is 82%, and during their quarter-century partnership ABJ and Fe fledged 91% of their young.

Meanwhile, ABJ has paired with “Aye-Aye.” Like Fe, she was originally color-marked as a successful adult mother in 2018 (thus she was at least 4 years old at the time), making Aye-Aye at least 11 this summer. 

ABJ has never sired young with anyone but Fe, so we’ll see if this changes for he and Aye-Aye in 2025.

 

Frog Count 

            Mary and I conducted our first DNR frog count of the year on 4/26, an annual survey we began back in 1988 on 10 sites in western Vilas County. We survey the sites three times, once between April 8-30, then May 20-June 5, and finally between July 1-15. 

            This spring the surprise was the number of wood frogs we heard. Six of the 10 sites had wood frogs “quacking” right along with the usual chaos of spring peepers.  



            To identify wood frogs by appearance, look for their characteristic dark triangular-shaped “mask” that extends from the tip of the snout back through the eyes, accented by a white line along the upper lip. Their dorsal (back) color can vary from tan to brown to gray to bronze to even pink, so look for these facial features to identify them.

            The females lay 500-800 eggs in masses in the shallow waters of temporary vernal ponds or semipermanent wetlands. These sites provide enough water for larval development, but don’t support overwintering fish or other amphibians that prey on the eggs or larvae.

The larvae hatch out in 12 to 15 days, undergo a rapid metamorphosis in May to late June (45 to 60 days), and then hop out of the water into woodlands where they live for the rest of the summer.

            As the name suggests, wood frogs need woodlands with nearby wetlands for breeding. One study showed that wood frogs aren’t found in landscapes with less than 30% forest cover.

            They’re the most northern frog in North America, even breeding north of the Arctic Circle, with a range extending from the Pacific coast of Alaska to the Atlantic coast of Quebec, and south into the Appalachian Mountains.

            Their “singing” lasts only a couple weeks, then that’s the last you’ll hear of them until next spring. They may in fact have wrapped up their singing by the time you’re reading this. If not, this is your last chance to hear them in 2025 – get out there!

 

Thought for the Week

“It is not enough . . . to think of different species merely as potential ‘resources’ to be exploited, while overlooking the fact that they have value in themselves. Each year sees the disappearance of thousands of plant and animal species which we will never know, which our children will never see, because they have been lost forever. The great majority become extinct for reasons related to human activity. Because of us, thousands of species will no longer give glory to God by their very existence, nor convey their message to us. We have no such right.” -  Pope Francis

 

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