tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23496124444571540162024-03-16T18:17:12.964-07:00John BatesJohn Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.comBlogger370125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-52258615164223201222024-03-14T09:01:00.000-07:002024-03-16T18:16:40.344-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for March 15 - 28, 2024 <p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for March 15 - 28, 2024</span></b><span style="background: repeat white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Beware the Ides of March <o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">The “Ides of March” corresponds to today, March 15, a day notorious for the <span style="color: black;"><span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">assassination of Julius Caesar</span> </span>in 44 BC when Caesar was brutally stabbed 23 times by some 60 senators at a meeting of the Roman Senate. The senators acted over fears that Caesar's unprecedented concentration of power during his dictatorship was undermining the Roman Republic.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">According to <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">Plutarch</span>, a seer had warned Caesar that harm would come to him no later than the Ides of March. The Roman biographer Suetonius identified the seer as a “haruspex” named Spurinna.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">If you’re not familiar with what a haruspex is, in the religion of ancient Rome, a haruspex was a person trained to practice a form of divination called haruspicy via the inspection of the entrails of sacrificed animals, especially the livers of sacrificed sheep and poultry.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">So, perhaps Caesar had more than ample reason to shrug off this prophecy. On his way to the <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">Theatre of Pompey</span>where he would be assassinated, Caesar passed the seer and joked, “The ides of March have come,” meaning that the prophecy had not been fulfilled. The seer replied, “Aye, Caesar; but not gone.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Over sixteen hundred years later, Shakespeare dramatized this moment in his play <i><span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">Julius Caesar</span></i>, wherein the soothsayer warns Caesar, “Beware the Ides of March.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">That phrase has come down over centuries to signify a fateful day, one with a sense of foreboding that an unpredictable danger is in the air, that anything might happen.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">For the record, however, “Ides” simply referred at the time of Caesar to the first full moon of a given month, which usually fell between the 13th and 15th. For the months of March, May, July and October, the Ides fell on the 15th day, while in every other month, the Ides fell on the 13th day. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">So, “the Ides of March” has a bad rap. In fact, the Ides of March once signified something quite positive – the new year, the spring coming, which meant celebrations and rejoicing. Shakespeare stabbed that notion to death with just one line.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> Still, that Shakespearian curse pretty well summarizes normal March weather in the Northwoods. You just never know what’s going to happen, even in this crazy non-winter.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> More importantly, it also reflects the reality of how hard life normally is for most wildlife species in March. March is classically the month of greatest hunger for wildlife – the culmination of winter – and thus the month where death often overtakes those individuals weakened by constant cold and want since November. It’s now that individuals often die with the warmth of spring in sight just a few counties south and only a few weeks away.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">BTW, the word “Ides” derives from a Latin word that means to divide, and perhaps that is most appropriate for March, a month with its attention truly divided between a lingering winter and a waiting spring. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Sightings<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> On March 3, Mary, Callie and I watched a flock of perhaps 150 snow buntings careening over Powell Marsh. It’s a sheer guess at the number – they were far too fast for me to accurately estimate. A week earlier we had seen a smaller flock of snow buntings wheeling and dealing also at Powell.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysbT3roc4ZlMMKIL-UH37qU5pw3zVxuYTYpXnBQ_GYSd7Ee-pf0hGiXHHbmy2vxRJqW8ffZFn3GWlpFpfCWA9itQ97qiSH2pa81D2NvlYo8pJZ1TGKOGvxSK4hF6rKDohoUPPPb9YyNNBdAcraaBSHTqx56b4egr6sJQSAVgOXDtHsQ53MS97zXLvOpZl/s480/snow%20bunting%20male.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="359" data-original-width="480" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysbT3roc4ZlMMKIL-UH37qU5pw3zVxuYTYpXnBQ_GYSd7Ee-pf0hGiXHHbmy2vxRJqW8ffZFn3GWlpFpfCWA9itQ97qiSH2pa81D2NvlYo8pJZ1TGKOGvxSK4hF6rKDohoUPPPb9YyNNBdAcraaBSHTqx56b4egr6sJQSAVgOXDtHsQ53MS97zXLvOpZl/w400-h299/snow%20bunting%20male.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> This is notable, because snow buntings usually don’t migrate through our area until at least the beginning of April when the snowpack has deflated. In heavy snow years, we may not see them until late April or early May. They’re ground feeders, and if they can’t access the ground to feed, it’s a fool’s errand to head north.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> So, they’re doing what a lot of us have been doing – acting like spring is here when the risk is that we’re still in for some serious winter weather. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> We’ll see. I’m not worried about humans. We have warm homes and grocery stores. But birds heading to their far north breeding grounds don’t have such luxuries, and I worry about their risk-taking.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> On March 6, I saw my first Canada geese flying down the Manitowish River. The next day, 3/7, on Powell Marsh, I watched 6 Canada geese land on a tiny patch of open water, and then two mallards, also my first sighting of the year, took off from behind some vegetation.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> And on 3/7, our FOY (first-of-year) common grackle appeared below our house in Manitowish. Red-winged blackbirds are sure to be close behind.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHx2o7eawmAuN2BBjG1YNFdnGP3FDQUd82vHC_oqdbHzqKz0Uvt_PBc161NorTv1JtbcM4-o71RTqoVZrhfJhie6GQUDG_Yh_QCNO-B2YPWk73h1iTy8gWes7eYvDwHkqTEWpux6GDhPn09cIFtU2JN-aoZMagCZuI_NHQW5lmhYI0D59pc4M-Oj6e85e9/s785/common%20grackle%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="785" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHx2o7eawmAuN2BBjG1YNFdnGP3FDQUd82vHC_oqdbHzqKz0Uvt_PBc161NorTv1JtbcM4-o71RTqoVZrhfJhie6GQUDG_Yh_QCNO-B2YPWk73h1iTy8gWes7eYvDwHkqTEWpux6GDhPn09cIFtU2JN-aoZMagCZuI_NHQW5lmhYI0D59pc4M-Oj6e85e9/w368-h400/common%20grackle%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="368" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Signs of March if It Was an Ordinary Year<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Creeks and rivers open.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The first robins and red-winged blackbirds appear around the equinox.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Eagles are incubating eggs.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Mud<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Potholes<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Pussy willows bud out.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The sun rises before you want to get up – in fact, you now have to get up early to see the stars.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Snow fleas surface by the millions on top of the snow. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Seed catalogs get dog-eared, and we hallucinate that watermelons will actually ripen this year, and go ahead and order their seeds, when they never have ripened before.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Rotting ice gets chopped off of decks, steps, roofs . . . only to ice up again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The travel bug hits big-time – Corfu, Crete, Arizona anyone?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Lady beetles appear by the dozens/hundreds on inside windows. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Icicles drip, gutters drip, trees drip.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Sap rises.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Baseball is in the news while we still look out at a foot of snow.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->One day a window is opened for the first time since October.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Spring cleaning/spring projects/spring garage sales all get envisioned.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The first chipmunk emerges. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Trumpeter swans bugle on the little open water they can find.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Otters play on ice floes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->45° feels like T-shirt weather.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->One day the wood stove stays cold because the sun is warmth enough. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> This year, most of the above already happened, leaving us anxiously guessing what April could possibly do for an encore.<span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Shortest Ice-Cover Record<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> Madison's Lake Monona saw its shortest-ever period of ice cover this winter – 44 days. Nearby Lake Mendota also experienced a 44-day freeze duration, which was its second shortest on record. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> Ice duration records have been kept on Madison’s lakes since 1852. The Feb. 28 date marks only the second time in the 171-year history that "ice off" was declared for Lakes Mendota and Monona in the month of February. The duration used to be a little over 100 days.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhtd_CTjm2qMhsDeCo-W7XIh9K6eiRPilnXHiuEpLDQRnQuqe0qNPPc0pj6xWY_cp77a09Q5flDTbeNluluYie_s8jIbvnMYeGDJg2c4cmV5RFBxv2E9cvFX-ElvjemJHB-NVGhDsEiQhQhi0NNt_ay_vZAbeKhqw3MqxC0hzGLY9zcaKr356Y6VJXEvu/s4096/ice%20cover%20graph%20for%20Lake%20Mendota,%20WI%20State%20Climate%20Summaries.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3038" data-original-width="4096" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhtd_CTjm2qMhsDeCo-W7XIh9K6eiRPilnXHiuEpLDQRnQuqe0qNPPc0pj6xWY_cp77a09Q5flDTbeNluluYie_s8jIbvnMYeGDJg2c4cmV5RFBxv2E9cvFX-ElvjemJHB-NVGhDsEiQhQhi0NNt_ay_vZAbeKhqw3MqxC0hzGLY9zcaKr356Y6VJXEvu/w400-h296/ice%20cover%20graph%20for%20Lake%20Mendota,%20WI%20State%20Climate%20Summaries.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><o:p><br /></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Deer Collisions Way Up<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> We recently had to have our car in the body shop for some minor repairs, and I asked how business was – one would think there would have been less auto body work needed this winter because the roads have been good overall. Well, not so. <span style="background: repeat white;">I was told they were crazy busy with deer collision work. Our pittance of snow and ice has meant that deer have been able to easily forage as far and as often as they’ve liked, so it’s resulted in far more winter car/deer collisions than usual. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> On the other hand, the shop had far fewer cars in for repairs due to ice and snow conditions. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> So, a trade-off.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">The spring/vernal equinox officially occurs on 3/19, but in our area, we actually experience nearly equal periods of day and night on 3/16. So, as of 3/17, we now begin to have days longer than nights. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Look on 3/21 for Venus to be barely above Saturn in the pre-dawn sky.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Full moon in March occurs on 3/25. Called variously the “Sap Moon,” the “Hard Crust on the Snow Moon,” or the “Crow Moon,” most of the U.S. will be treated to a penumbral lunar eclipse. A penumbral lunar eclipse takes place when the Moon moves through the faint, outer part of Earth's shadow, the penumbra. It’s subtle. Penumbral eclipses never progress to reach the dramatic minutes of true totality. At best, at mid-eclipse, very observant people will only notice a dark shading on the moon’s face, while others may notice nothing at all. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> If you’re so inclined, the maximum eclipse will occur around 2:12 a.m., with the dusky shading occurring for about 45 minutes on either size of the maximum.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> “You say that I use the land, and I reply, yes, it is true; but it is not the first truth. The first truth is that I love the land; I see that it is beautiful; I delight in it; I am alive in it.” - N. Scott Momaday (Kiowa) <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Momaday passed away on January 24 at age 89. His novel <i>House Made of Dawn</i> was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1969 – it was the first work of a Native American to be awarded the Pulitzer. Momaday received the National Medal of Arts from President George W. Bush in 2007 for works “that celebrate and preserve Native American art and oral tradition.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-6797761907973102024-02-26T07:37:00.000-08:002024-02-26T07:37:39.999-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for 3/1/24<p> <b><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for March 1 – 14, 2024</span></b><span style="background: white;"> by John Bates</span></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Record Low Great Lakes Ice Cover<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> As one would expect given this exceptionally warm winter, researchers at NOAA’s Great Lakes Environmental Research Laboratory report that ice coverage across the Great Lakes has reached a historic low. As of February 11, Great Lakes ice coverage was measured at 2.7%. Maximum ice cover for the year usually peaks in late February or early March and, on average, the Great Lakes experience a basin-wide maximum in annual ice coverage of about 53%.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> “We’ve crossed a threshold in which we are at a historic low for ice cover for the Great Lakes as a whole,” says GLERL’s Bryan Mroczka, a physical scientist. “We have never seen ice levels this low in mid-February on the lakes since our records began in 1973.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Coverage on each of the lakes was measured as follows:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Lake Superior 1.7 %<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Lake Michigan 2.6 %<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Lake Huron 5.9 %<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Lake Erie 0.05 %<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Lake Ontario 1.7 %<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6_ZCEUnPjA4Z8xPj_JkjIsCpxbqd4e9uTB3x2tj-lg_QHo9t2wDIHG0mD_7Az_CMSSqhqg4JGj8Em5nLvBubOdhJXomHAkOzAbMei0CsnqTMBAFA1vm1AFBpiK_h5yu-5ll8YA1Ys1SoO2vzP-uMULwYwxVrbHauOz07MQx4xPIXXb5ajnrtWw9IViCn/s1080/Graphic%20of%20Great%20Lakes%20Ice%20Coverage%20to%202:15:24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6_ZCEUnPjA4Z8xPj_JkjIsCpxbqd4e9uTB3x2tj-lg_QHo9t2wDIHG0mD_7Az_CMSSqhqg4JGj8Em5nLvBubOdhJXomHAkOzAbMei0CsnqTMBAFA1vm1AFBpiK_h5yu-5ll8YA1Ys1SoO2vzP-uMULwYwxVrbHauOz07MQx4xPIXXb5ajnrtWw9IViCn/w400-h400/Graphic%20of%20Great%20Lakes%20Ice%20Coverage%20to%202:15:24.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Too Little Snow<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Folks talk about the need for “white gold” up here – the positive economics associated with snow cover. And that’s very true for many businesses that rely on snow, and lots of it, for long periods. While we had exceptional snow cover last winter, this winter has been just the opposite, and it’s not just a phenomena specific to this winter. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> According to a Dartmouth College study published in the journal <i>Nature</i> in January, during the past 40 years the seasonal snowpack has decreased by 10 to 20 percent per decade in the northeastern and southwestern US and in other regions worldwide. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Another study, this one from Salem State University in Massachusetts, found that from 2000 to 2022, North America’s annual snow coverage decreased by an area nearly the size of Texas.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> This doesn’t bode well for many species of plants and wildlife, particularly here in the North Country where winter defines so much of our character. Here’s a sampling of some of the species impacted:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Snowshoe hares and weasels molt into white coats to better hide in a snowy landscape. But without snow, the hare’s intended camouflage transforms them instead into an obvious target for predators. In northern Wisconsin, the snowshoe hare’s range is drifting north, with cottontail rabbits, who don’t turn white in winter, filling the void.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHN-KSq-v-o_DH8bDzV1CiNdauoC8yqU1oik6w4xAVqjdeRaTKMfOVstjByIdYX_0aCLeTdYDsRLgeo0828TGeyxXS0xgyTFQBjYHWdTOe3bRKN26CDB23gSF1DZY_tPdnrpv8O5TV5Oz-NNbsNnhJ5FV8M_wqD-HK_O9eYbQQzZlbPSZkQIty2kyR1mp_/s504/ermine%20photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="489" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHN-KSq-v-o_DH8bDzV1CiNdauoC8yqU1oik6w4xAVqjdeRaTKMfOVstjByIdYX_0aCLeTdYDsRLgeo0828TGeyxXS0xgyTFQBjYHWdTOe3bRKN26CDB23gSF1DZY_tPdnrpv8O5TV5Oz-NNbsNnhJ5FV8M_wqD-HK_O9eYbQQzZlbPSZkQIty2kyR1mp_/s320/ermine%20photo.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><span style="background: white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Our three species of weasels are predators, and their story is a bit different – without snowcover, they can no longer easily approach a prey species without being seen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Canada jays</span><span style="color: #1d1d1d;"> are really in trouble when winters occur like this one, because they’re “scatter-hoarders.” In the autumn, they mix food with their super sticky saliva and tuck it into the bark of trees at randomly selected spots in their territory, creating thousands of food caches. They do this because they </span>nest during late February and early March in cold, snowy, and usually foodless conditions, incubating their eggs at temperatures as low as -30°F. Nestlings are being fed when lakes are still frozen and the ground still snow-covered, and fledging occurs before 80% of migratory birds have even returned.<span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> The problem is that their caches have to remain frozen or they’ll spoil, and then the jays won’t be able to feed their nestlings. So, Canada jays are being forced further north where constant freezing temperatures still occur.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> Wood frogs, chorus frogs, and spring peepers all hibernate a few inches into the forest duff, and essentially freeze the entire winter. They need to stay primarily frozen until they are ready to emerge late in April when the weather is warm enough for them to lay eggs. But frequent thaws force them in and out of dormancy, which requires significant energy and potential death.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> Most of our rodent population, from mice to voles to shrews, live under the insulating snowpack throughout the winter in what is called the subnivean zone. They store food under the snow, create tunnels through which they can travel, stay relatively hidden from predators, and most importantly, don’t freeze to death. One winter snow study found that, with two feet of new snow on the ground and an air temperature of 9°F, the temperature at the top of the snow surface is 11°F. Eight inches into the snow, the temperature jumps to 25°F. At the soil surface, the temperature rises higher yet to 34°F. Four inches into the soil, the temperature climbs to 36°F. This variance spells the difference between life and death for thinly furred rodents.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvOyQrxtjm47zs240aMmmrPMwkP4J2xi54ETANt7MQlVXXY4vghTAlAvcBIbxclMjVI5j_LrvSUy-gnLBhPVY3kYiXYHu4jpmLuGU0F7cqTCeHoYAYQdz-W-QYAYFTiUFX8BKqbuf4fQD7njgKmXTfcHVDsTDQDuaO75X4s5HLIzT5eIf5ANfyLsEGXDt/s1800/subnivean%20zone,%20Trees%20for%20Tomorrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1747" data-original-width="1800" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvOyQrxtjm47zs240aMmmrPMwkP4J2xi54ETANt7MQlVXXY4vghTAlAvcBIbxclMjVI5j_LrvSUy-gnLBhPVY3kYiXYHu4jpmLuGU0F7cqTCeHoYAYQdz-W-QYAYFTiUFX8BKqbuf4fQD7njgKmXTfcHVDsTDQDuaO75X4s5HLIzT5eIf5ANfyLsEGXDt/w400-h389/subnivean%20zone,%20Trees%20for%20Tomorrow.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">subnivean zone, diagram courtesy of Trees for Tomorrow</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> In the plant world, deep snow protects plants from dry winter winds and protects roots from frost. Researchers from the Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest in New Hampshire found that with no snowpack, sugar maple roots are exposed to extreme cold, resulting in increased damage and die-off – a 40 to 55 percent reduction in growth that lingered for three years. This is not good news for maple syrup producers, nor for those of us addicted to said syrup.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> I vividly recall my favorite ecology professor telling us that white pines didn’t survive as well in southern Wisconsin during the winter as they do in the North Country because it’s colder for the pines down there. We all looked at him quizzically until he explained the obvious – the white pine roots weren’t insulated by heavy snow cover in southern counties, and the freeze-thaw vacillations often injured the trees. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">The Flip Side<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Conversely, sometimes less is more.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Predator species probably cheer for a thin snow layer. They lose far less energy when they're not forced to wallow through deep snow. Foxes, coyotes, wolves, and martens ordinarily have to stay on trails or travel across the compacted snow that covers lakes, because the energy lost by floundering through deep snow seldom justifies the potential gain. Red foxes can bound through six inches of snow, but deeper snows usually restrict them to trails.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Larger herbivores like deer appreciate minimal snow cover, too. Deer can easily access woody browse in shallow snow without an excessive loss of energy. In such conditions, they can avoid the need to yard up and the possibility of starvation that accompanies overbrowsing in a limited area. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Most birds are also among the creatures that are delighted with minimal snow. Heavy snow generally covers cones, buds, insect eggs, seeds of low shrubs, and other food sources.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Even the fish appreciate light snow cover, because it allows sunlight to penetrate the ice layer more extensively, which in turn triggers photosynthesis and the creation of life-giving oxygen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> As with most environmental change, the cost-benefit ratio of snow depth doesn't exactly tip; instead it merely swings, offering advantages to some, disadvantages to others.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Factors Limiting Deer Abundance in the U.P.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Yet another study confirms that wolves are not, I repeat NOT, the reason for lower deer harvests (google the 26 page summary “Factors Limiting Deer Abundance in the Upper Peninsula,” Michigan DNR, 2021). I’ve cherry-picked a few summary statements, but I encourage you to access the report for yourself and draw your own conclusions based on actual data: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">Buck harvest across the northern portion of the state [MI] has been declining in the last<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;">35 years. This decline is due in part to a decrease in the number of deer hunters (nearly 40% over the last 20 years) as well as more restrictive changes to regulations.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">Quantity of fat reserves and seasonal variation in energy demands play an important role in survival of deer during winter. Critical shelter components (hemlock and cedar) are especially important in aiding deer winter survival, particularly in Deer Wintering Complexes. Hemlock has declined drastically and is essentially absent from state forests, while cedar loss has also occurred, but to a lesser extent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">In the last 11 years there have been six severe winters that have impacted buck harvest. During this time the wolf population has remained stable, emphasizing that winter weather has a much greater impact on the deer numbers than wolves.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-emoji: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">The abundance of each predator is important in determining how many fawns are killed across the landscape. In the Upper Peninsula, each coyote kills about 1.5 fawns per year, on average. However, coyotes are so numerous that the overall impact from coyotes is the greatest for all predators. Black bears are also effective predators on fawns, killing 1.4 fawns per bear each year. Bears are also abundant and therefore, have a large impact on fawn mortality. Bobcat and wolf populations are much lower, so even though they kill more fawns per year (6.6 per year for each bobcat and 5.6 per year for each wolf), their overall impact on fawn mortality is reduced.</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Wolf abundance has remained relatively stable in the Upper Peninsula for the last 12 years with an estimated 557–695 animals while buck harvest has varied substantially. Predation, winter conditions, and habitat quality all interact to play a role in deer abundance in the Upper Peninsula. Wolves are the least abundant predator with the lowest impact on fawn mortality. Wolves prey upon deer, yet annual adult deer survival is high. Wolves are simply one part of the complex predator-prey relationship and are not a primary limiting factor on deer in the Upper Peninsula.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span></p><p style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">For planet watching in March, look after sunset for Jupiter low in the southwest. For early birds up before dawn, look for Venus brilliant but extremely low in the southeast, and Mars also very low in the southeast.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> The first three days of March ordinarily mark the period when our average high temperature reaches 32° for the first time since late November. But, of course, this average high has already been met in this exceptionally warm winter of 2024.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> As of 3/7, we now are the recipients of 11 hours and 30 minutes of sunlight, as we continue racing toward spring equinox on 3/19.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Before dawn on 3/8, look for Mars north of the waning sliver of a moon. The next morning, 3/9, look for Venus in nearly the same place above the moon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> The new moon occurs on 3/10, as does daylight savings time. The moon also happens to be at its perigee this day, the closest it will be to the Earth this year. This means big tides for those who live along ocean coastlines.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #050505;"> “To see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.” - Georgia O'Keeffe<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/"><span style="background: white; color: black;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-89796418698977595512024-02-15T10:53:00.000-08:002024-02-15T10:54:55.412-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for Feb. 16 – 29, 2024 <p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Ezra Cornell and The Pines Lands of Northern Wisconsin</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">I’ve recently been reading an array of books and articles on northern Wisconsin history, and a few days back, I picked up a book on Ezra Cornell, the founder of Cornell University in New York, entitled <i>The Wisconsin Pine Lands of Cornell University</i>. You may rightfully ask, what does an Ivy League college have to do with northern Wisconsin? Well, Ezra Cornell founded Cornell University via his purchase and sale of nearly a half-million acres of pine lands in northern Wisconsin in the later 1800s. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> It’s a complicated but fascinating story. Upon the forced signing of treaties with the many Native American tribes in Wisconsin in 1825, 1835, 1836, 1837, 1839, 1842, 1848, 1854, and 1856, the Federal Government now had at its disposal tens of millions of acres in Wisconsin to grant or to sell. The General Land Office, established in 1812, was given the authority to oversee surveying and disposing of all these Indian lands throughout the country. It’s a sordid history of corruption and theft, far too long to tell here, but many laws were passed to facilitate settlement over those years including the Homestead Act of 1862.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Also in 1862 in the midst of the Civil War, the Morrill Act was passed by Congress, creating land-grant colleges in each U.S. state that would teach agriculture and the mechanical arts (engineering). This would seem positive, but to fund the colleges, each eligible state was given 30,000 acres of federal land for each member of Congress the state had as of 1860. Proceeds from the sale of this land were then to be used to establish and fund the colleges. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Here’s the kicker. If there was not enough federal land within a state to meet that state's land-grant allocation, the state was issued scrip – essentially paper vouchers – that authorized the state to select and sell available lands in other states to fund its own land-grant college in its home state.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> At that time, New York had no federal lands left and was also the most populous state in the country with 33 members in Congress. Multiply the 30,000 acres per each member of Congress times New York’s 33 members, and New York became the single largest beneficiary of the Morrill Act, ultimately expropriating over 990,000 acres (more than 1,500 square miles) in 15 different states (these lands came from over 230 different Indigenous tribes), with most acreage coming from Wisconsin and California.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> States, however, were prohibited from owning land within another state. So, most often, the state offered the scrip for sale, a process usually resulting in wealthy speculators buying the scrip for a very low cost per acre, then raising the price per acre, and selling the land for a generous profit. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Enter Ezra Cornell who had offered his farmland in Ithaca, New York, as a site for the land-grant college, as well as $500,000 of his personal fortune as an initial endowment for the college. He also made the state an additional very generous offer. He would buy all the scrip from the state, purchase lands wherever he could find the best deals, and manage them until they could be sold at the best profits, all of which he agreed to donate to the establishment of Cornell University.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The state agreed, and he purchased New York’s scrip at its fair market value, in this case 50 cents per acre for the first 100,000 acres in 1865, and then 60 cents per acre in 1866. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> To then secure the best lands to sell, Cornell sent Henry Putnam to Wisconsin, a shrewd land dealer who knew the pine lands of northern Wisconsin very well, and who also had complete control of the Eau Claire land office where all scrip entries in the Chippewa Valley had to be made, and where no rival could secure land that Putnam wanted.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Wisconsin’s population was 305,000 in 1850, but by 1860, another 470,000 settlers had arrived, so land was being gobbled up by in-state and out-of-state speculators and sold at as high of a price as they could get from the swarm of settlers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> By 1865, Wisconsin’s public domain had been reduced to ten or eleven million acres, but many of the best stands of pine in northern Wisconsin were still in public hands.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> To make what is a very long story very short, Cornell acquired a half-million acres (497,126 to be exact) of pine land and farmland in Wisconsin by 1867, and refrained from selling the land for decades to allow it to appreciate in value. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> When the books were closed on most of the sales by the early 1900s, the land and trees added more than $5 million to the university's endowment fund. Five million dollars in 1900 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $180 million today. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> While most other states had sold their federal land allocation immediately for as little as 42 cents an acre, the peak price paid for Cornell’s pines reached $82 an acre. Some have described this as the most successful land speculation deal in U.S. history. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span><span style="background: repeat white; color: #222222;">Across the country, 52 colleges benefited from the Morrill Act, schools like Penn State, Texas A&M, the University of Minnesota, and the University of Wisconsin.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> So, I was curious: Did Cornell own and then sell any of the land near where I live in Manitowish?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWQENnrFwVonn8xyG6UBPeRfz9P7HHR52ZxMFAu8u9Sq-vbK8IxN8cDLwgGwtmBq7huoVCvG6agLwol-IALeYRwTwRyQbdoFmmXc_E6zrVNUFLDLhcYOQMx925Mr5nl7o9_PIkJoEDL5eV7jwhSUfcoCYRXU7YzDggQ-rouVm7hmrOAsCjfLtxXdYEX5Z/s2324/Cornell%20actual%20purchase.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1784" data-original-width="2324" height="493" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWQENnrFwVonn8xyG6UBPeRfz9P7HHR52ZxMFAu8u9Sq-vbK8IxN8cDLwgGwtmBq7huoVCvG6agLwol-IALeYRwTwRyQbdoFmmXc_E6zrVNUFLDLhcYOQMx925Mr5nl7o9_PIkJoEDL5eV7jwhSUfcoCYRXU7YzDggQ-rouVm7hmrOAsCjfLtxXdYEX5Z/w640-h493/Cornell%20actual%20purchase.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cornell's purchase of a quarter section a few miles from our house in Manitowish</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><span> </span> I live in the Township of Sherman, T.42N.-R.4E. Consulting historic records from the General Land Office, I found the legal patents to 11 quarter sections (160 acres each) in this Township, totaling 1,760 acres, that Cornell purchased on May 2, 1870. This land is just a couple miles east and south on Hwy. 51 near where a state wayside is today along the Manitowish River (see the attached copy of one of the legal patents as well as a summary of Cornell’s purchases).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkSiUw3ng2i5ncNtwhRNagp-v6g6Iv3pW_w8qntHJSqc7rvFgw0m2FCZ2laVSOJ_b_hpy9HFGRpTfnvu0PnyBBjgX5Hu7EFw2CbezIEdrQZF58eXTIAnxUFwNIGpZHVvTNA6LDlDVohXjLDsXro0a6RLhl1qjBdsVDxeT4jYIKA1zYeEzD9tAtgPFgqpy/s1934/Ezra%20Cornell%20Holdings%20on%20the%20Manitowish%20River%20in%20Iron%20County%20T42N-R4E.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="1934" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkSiUw3ng2i5ncNtwhRNagp-v6g6Iv3pW_w8qntHJSqc7rvFgw0m2FCZ2laVSOJ_b_hpy9HFGRpTfnvu0PnyBBjgX5Hu7EFw2CbezIEdrQZF58eXTIAnxUFwNIGpZHVvTNA6LDlDVohXjLDsXro0a6RLhl1qjBdsVDxeT4jYIKA1zYeEzD9tAtgPFgqpy/w640-h240/Ezra%20Cornell%20Holdings%20on%20the%20Manitowish%20River%20in%20Iron%20County%20T42N-R4E.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cornell's purchases</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Today, Cornell University still owns the mineral rights to much of the land Cornell purchased in Wisconsin. If you’d like to see the total extent of Cornell’s lands, see the Wisconsin Historical Society’s digitized map at </span><a href="https://www.wisconsinhistory.org/Records/Image/IM77162" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white;">https://www.wisconsinhistory.org/Records/Image/IM77162</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;">. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">How Do The First Fish Find Their Way Into A Lake?<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> It’s already been a long, albeit warm winter, and in such a time, my mind sometimes wanders onto strange topics. Thus, the question of how fish ever got into all of our lakes has resurfaced. It’s a question I’ve been asked on occasion, and to which I’ve basically shrugged my shoulders and said, “Possibly a heron or eagle or osprey dropped a fish on the way to its nest, or maybe fish eggs got stuck on their feathers.” But basically, I’ve never known. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Now I have a better answer. In a 2020 article published in <i>Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences</i> (Lovas-Kiss, et al. “Experimental evidence of dispersal of invasive cyprinid eggs inside migratory waterfowl”), Hungarian researchers fed 500 live eggs of two species of carp to eight captive mallards, and watched to see whether any of those eggs came out the other end and survived in the water. Six of the ducks pooped out 18 intact eggs, and three of the recovered eggs hatched into baby carps, suggesting that mallards, and likely other waterfowl, ferry fish eggs between waterbodies near and far.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Three eggs may seem a pittance, but mallards are ubiquitous across North America, Asia, and Europe, sharing their ponds, marshes, and lake edges with spawning carp. A single common carp lays up to 1.5 million small, sticky eggs every time it spawns, and it can spawn multiple times per season. Lead author Ádám Lovas-Kiss writes, “If mallards find these spawning areas, they will go there and eat the eggs until they can’t move. It’s a great resource for protein for them.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The researchers are now looking to repeat the experiment with eggs of several other fish species to see if they survive the mallard’s gut and successfully hatch and develop. If they do, the question of where fish come from that live in our lakes may well be solved.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Reading Scat<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> A friend recently emailed me with a question regarding some scat she found on her property that was fresh, full of hair, and rather large. She wondered if I could tell if it was either a coyote or a wolf. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Well, it’s tricky. </span>One of the best books on tracking, and also on identifying scat, is by James Halfpenny: <i>A Field Guide to Animal Tracking in North America</i>. Halfpenny, a well-known leader in the art/science of tracking and identifying animals, stresses the need for other supporting clues in addition to scat, like tracks. “Experience has shown that visual identification of scat without additional clues may be correct only 50 to 66% of the time,” he says.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> He adds, “To illustrate size variation, I have assembled information from three studies on the diameters of canine feces. The size distributions were derived from 1,440 positively identified scats as follows: 95 gray fox, 129 red fox, 926 coyote, and 290 wolf. All four species produce scats in the range of 13 to 20 mm. No single diameter will positively separate these species. Any single diameter used as a criterion to separate two species will misidentify a certain percentage of the scat.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I don’t know many folks who carry a millimeter ruler/tape around with them to measure the diameter of scat, but if you are so inclined, Halfpenny notes that scat less than 18mm is fox 90% of the time; scat between 18 and 25 mm is coyote about 63% of the time, and scat 25 mm or larger is wolf also about 63% of the time. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> There you have it, more than you ever wanted to know, and the real scoop on poop.<span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Ice-Out on the Manitowish and Bees Flying<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The Manitowish River reopened up below our house on Jan. 30, and remains open as of this writing on 2/9. It iced over on Jan. 15, making this a two-week ice season, at least so far, on the river. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Temperatures nearly reached 50°F on 2/8, and the honey bees in our two hives were flying! Honey bees usually won’t forage until 55°F, but with sunlight on the hives, they are known to fly at 45-50°F. Temperature within the hives is kept at 95° by the bees constantly shivering and flapping their wings within a large cluster. The worker bees in the center of the cluster actively generate heat while those on the outside of the cluster rest and form an insulating layer. The resting bees can also visit a cell of their own capped honey and fill their crop.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The bees in the center of the cluster will eventually need to rest. too. They will make their way out to the periphery, and the outside bees eventually move inward, where they warm up and begin to take another shift as active heaters. All winter long, workers move in and out of the cluster, taking turns.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">January Temps<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;">In Wisconsin, the state-wide average temperature of 23.0 degrees was 7.7 degrees higher than the long-term average (1895 to present). This anomaly put the month as the 5th warmest January on record. The daily minimum temperatures were even more extreme: 2nd warmest in the 129 years of data. All parts of the state were exceptionally warm, ranging from 8 to 11 degrees above normal, but far north-central and northeast Wisconsin had the largest anomalies of all.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Besides the extreme warmth, the most remarkable aspect of January was the seemingly relentless cloudiness. Based on daily sky conditions (sunrise to sunset) reported by the National Weather Service, all six major weather stations around Wisconsin reported at least 70% sky cover in January, exceeding average conditions by 15 to 25 percentage points. Milwaukee suffered through clouds 88% of the time while Madison was nearly as high (86.5%)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;">Worldwide, </span><span style="background: repeat white;">last month was the hottest January ever recorded, both on land and at sea. Whether it was the dreariest, I don’t know.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> “It is one of the commonest of mistakes to consider that the limit of our power of perception is also the limit of all there is to perceive.” – C. W. Leadbeater<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: black;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-69286461362908921892024-02-02T15:44:00.000-08:002024-02-15T10:53:35.314-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for 2/2 – 15, 2024 <p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #050505;">A Northwoods Almanac for 2/2 – 15, 2024</span></b><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Dogs and Humans<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Mary, Callie, and I have been hiking every day this winter, always accompanied by, or led by as the case may be, our Australian shepherd, Pippa. She’s two years old, with an amazing, and sometimes baffling, array of physical, intellectual, and behavioral traits. She can be the most loving of dogs, and the most loyal, but if she sniffs out a grouse or a deer anywhere in the woods, she’s off to the races no matter how well fed or well behaved she was just minutes before. Something in her DNA clicks in instantly, and there’s little we can do to deter her. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgpC4K4Z93uVxaiyEFYunEYvQcSU0w2kgJ60wJpwfnZw3yrW09EjfPq_7i1dvolErMnyFS4a0H41LVAG0Wztw-ildxega4hIVVxxun5p8tAK62MvOvizMj0hlVEAIWK_C0bzVsLssVtQyjkxFE7hqFmPK2iBzKSHbvvylyrCEhhZ2yNh0xmtqRGXwfSvq/s4032/Pippa%20and%20JB%2012:4:21.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgpC4K4Z93uVxaiyEFYunEYvQcSU0w2kgJ60wJpwfnZw3yrW09EjfPq_7i1dvolErMnyFS4a0H41LVAG0Wztw-ildxega4hIVVxxun5p8tAK62MvOvizMj0hlVEAIWK_C0bzVsLssVtQyjkxFE7hqFmPK2iBzKSHbvvylyrCEhhZ2yNh0xmtqRGXwfSvq/w300-h400/Pippa%20and%20JB%2012:4:21.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pippa when we first got her in December, 2021</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> We’ve had a dog or dogs for all of the 40 years we’ve lived here, and most of them wanted to chase animals. Over that time, we have also encountered all manner, sizes, and shapes of dogs (and their people) on our hikes, all of which has led me to wonder not only how dogs came to be in the shapes we see them today, but how, when, and why they came to be domesticated at all.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Well, the literature on this is vast, conflicting, and still evolving. And, as a caveat, my knowledge of the literature is comparatively small, so take my thoughts with a grain of salt. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Let’s start here: Dogs are one of the biggest enigmas of domestication – they’re the only animal known to have entered into a domestic relationship with people during the Pleistocene (which ended around 11,700 years ago). And despite decades of study, scientists still haven't figured out when or where they arose, much less how or why it happened. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Two big names in dog and human genetics, Greger Larson, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Oxford, and Pontus Skoglund, a paleogenomicist, teamed up with colleagues in 2016 to sift through more than 2000 sets of ancient dog remains dating back nearly 11,000 years from Europe, Siberia, and the Near East. In the process, they added 27 ancient dog genomes to the five already on record. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The dog DNA revealed that as early as 11,000 years ago, there were already five distinct dog lineages in the Near East, northern Europe, Siberia, New Guinea, and the Americas. Because dogs had already diversified so much by that time, “domestication had to occur long before then,” Skoglund says, which fits with archaeological evidence. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The earliest generally accepted remains of a domestic dog, based on a convergence of evidence, comes from the site of Bonn-Oberkassel in Germany, dated to around 15,000 years ago. The morphology and genetics of this young dog clearly distinguish it from local wolves. Archaeologists excavating the site found the dog's skeleton interred in a grave with the remains of a man about 50 years old and a woman about 20 to 25. When researchers see a dog regarded so highly that it’s buried with a family, it’s as if it was considered a member of the family, and thus they know they are looking at a fully domesticated animal. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In Israel, at a hunter-gatherer site dating to 12,000 years ago in the upper Jordan Valley, archaeologists discovered perhaps the most famous dog-human burial. The skeleton of an elderly person lies curled on its right side, its left arm stretched out under the head, with the hand resting gently on a puppy. The dog was about four to five months old and was placed there, it’s thought, to be a companion to the deceased. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> One line of thought suggests that dogs were domesticated in Siberia <span style="font-family: "Cambria Math", serif;">about </span>23,000 years ago, possibly while both people and wolves were isolated during the harsh climate of the Last Glacial Maximum when the area was ice-covered. Dogs then accompanied the first people into the Americas and traveled with them as humans rapidly dispersed into the continent beginning <span style="font-family: "Cambria Math", serif;">about</span>15,000 years ago. But that’s controversial, too, with some strong evidence that humans were in the Americas well before that.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmCsbkejaukx5xwMEvEsZ0PfZiqtHknjsL5kNT6wyPwcQ82Hpwl8if9vOFMXExqRVTmMsVy7hSY8BQGckjY7f90xjKUQ50J1Y2YViq9OEhfFwVGHEtaD4gwICna8VATvz-rw2TbIrQTlFClM9b9JCZmwLlRzytrhoK25cUwnqeNLW4bjY13I6IvCLeBqn/s1114/animaldomestication.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="367" data-original-width="1114" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmCsbkejaukx5xwMEvEsZ0PfZiqtHknjsL5kNT6wyPwcQ82Hpwl8if9vOFMXExqRVTmMsVy7hSY8BQGckjY7f90xjKUQ50J1Y2YViq9OEhfFwVGHEtaD4gwICna8VATvz-rw2TbIrQTlFClM9b9JCZmwLlRzytrhoK25cUwnqeNLW4bjY13I6IvCLeBqn/w640-h210/animaldomestication.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Animal Domestication</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> What I want to know is when did dogs become dogs? Wolf-dog analysis by many researchers suggests dogs evolved only once, from a now-extinct wolf species, and not from our current gray wolf population or any other species of wolf. Genetic evidence suggests that dogs split from their wolf ancestors between 27,000 and 40,000 years ago (other research indicates between 18,800 and 32,000 years ago). But it isn’t clear whether domestication happened in Europe or Asia – or in multiple locations – or why it happened.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Some researchers suggest that hunter-gatherers may have taken in orphaned wolf pups – perhaps viewing them a bit like pets – and fed them on spare lean meat. They probably didn’t have any long-term goal in mind, but the tamed wolves would have later proved to be useful hunting partners – reinforcing the domestication. Nomadic hunter-gatherer societies would have valued the highly specific behaviors of wolves, such as tracking and consuming prey, which may have driven the initial domestic evolution of dogs. Good hunting dogs can find fresh tracks, guide hunters to the prey, and hold the prey at bay.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Others think that wolves may have started following people for the same reason that flies enter our kitchens – “to take advantage of a nutritional resource, our trash.” Over time, some of these camp-following wolves may increasingly have lost their fear of people – and vice versa – and a mutually beneficial relationship developed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Interestingly, the domestication of the dog predates agriculture by many thousands of years. It wasn’t until 11,000 years ago that people living in the Near East entered into relationships with wild populations of aurochs (an extinct cattle-like species), boar, sheep, and goats.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> With the advent of agricultural societies, dogs adapted to the introduction of starch within their diets, a crucial step in their evolution from the wolf. And more recently over the past few hundred years, domesticated dogs have been genetically selected into nearly 400 breeds to fulfill specialized functions in human society.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> All of which doesn’t necessarily bring me closer to understanding Pippa’s desire to chase wild animals. Many dog breeds are still bred to hunt wild animals – the predator trait is enshrined in them. But for dogs not bred for hunting, how many generations will it take before the hunting trait is erased, if ever? I don’t know, but we’ll continue working with Pippa to try and break her of this genetic carryover.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">2023 – The Warmest Year Since Global Records Began<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> By a large margin, the year 2023 was the warmest year since global records began in 1850. At 2.12°F above the 20th-century average of 57.0°F, this value is 0.27°F more than the previous record set in 2016. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> The 10 warmest years in the 174-year record have all occurred during the last decade (2014–2023). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> It's been 47 years – nearly half a century – since Earth's temperature was colder than average. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Ice-up, Finally<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> The Manitowish River finally iced-over below our house on Jan. 15, the latest date in our 40 years here.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Our Warm Winter Continues<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> I’m curious to see if we end up breaking local records for the warmest January since temperatures were first officially recorded here. By my figures, we’ve only experienced seven days below 0°F this winter, with the lowest temperature only reaching -12°F, a quite warm minimum for an area where -30° to -40° used to be the norm for the coldest days.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Our abysmal snow totals have followed suit, with a varying total depending on your location of perhaps 6 inches for the entire winter. No snowmobile trails have been opened in the Lakeland area this winter, and only a few cross country ski sites (Winter Park!) have opened trails.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Folks are asking why this is happening, and as with all weather events nowadays, it’s weather influenced by climate change. It’s impossible to say if any given event was solely caused by climate change, because weather and climate are two different things. Daily weather can swing wildly over the short term in local areas, whereas climate change is assessed via long term averages from thousands of sites worldwide. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> What’s essential to understand is that climate data is derived from accumulated daily weather data. Thus, the generalization to remember is simple: The warmer the overall climate, the warmer overall daily weather will tend to be, but with varying fluctuations.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> This winter is a good picture of where we’re heading in the next few decades unless we politically and individually commit to doing everything we can to stymie climate change. Climate change is based on straight-up scientific data, and we’ve got to come together around it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b><span style="color: #050505;">Does Groundhog Day count as a celestial event? Well, it’s more of a terrestrial event with supposed atmospheric consequences, but however we rank it, it’s happening today – Feb. 2. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> February 4 marks the mid-season point between winter solstice and spring equinox.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> February 5 marks the midway between ice-up and ice-out, at least according to the 48 years of ice records that Woody Hagge has kept on Foster Lake in Hazelhurst.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> We’re up to 10 hours of daylight as of 2/7. The sun is now setting an hour later than our earliest sunsets in December. By 2/15, we’ll be receiving 3+ minutes more of daylight every day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> The new moon occurs on 2/9.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Look on 2/15 after dusk for Jupiter about three degrees below the waxing crescent moon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> “The world, we are told, was made especially for man – a presumption not supported by all the facts.” – John Muir<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-36279356980956415312024-01-16T08:46:00.000-08:002024-01-16T08:46:03.738-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for January 19 – Feb. 1, 2024 <p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for January 19 – Feb. 1, 2024</span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> by John Bates</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Great Lakes Ice Cover<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> On New Year’s Day, the Great Lakes had the smallest amount of ice cover in the past 50 years. Only 0.35% of the Great Lakes was covered with ice, far below the roughly 9% that is typical for this point in the winter. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> According to a NOAA analysis, between 1973 and 2017, the average Great Lakes ice cover dropped by about 70 percent. Cumulatively, researchers have also recorded as many as 46 fewer days per season of frozen ice on the Great Lakes – defined as a day when at least 5 percent of the lake’s surface had ice cover – with the most significant decreases in Lakes Ontario and Superior.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> However, year-to-year variability can happen even during the decline. The lowest winter ice cover came in 2002, when the maximum coverage for the season was 11.8%. But just five years ago, in 2019, the maximum ice cover was 81%, among the highest ever.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> So, we’ll see how the winter commences. Climate is the long haul, weather the short haul. We’re getting some colder weather now, but unless we get some continuously very cold weather in the next few months, we may be on course for a record low year climatically.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Northern Shrike<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Over the last few weeks, we’ve had a northern shrike stalking our feeders in search of its next songbird meal. At first, we’re always excited to see a shrike, but that’s short-lived. Shrikes specialize in capturing and eating songbirds, and thus they make life for our feeder birds one of constant anxiety. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> We were eating lunch recently, and I wondered how it would feel to know something or someone was lurking nearby ready to kill one of us – not the most peaceful dining experience, I imagine.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> In North America, northern shrikes breed from Labrador to Alaska, living on the natural edge between boreal forest and open tundra. Many, but not all, individuals typically migrate south to southern Canada and northern United States during late fall and early winter. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> They’re known for impaling their prey on thorns, barbed-wire fences or wedging them in forks of branchlets, and thus have earned the nickname “butcher bird” for their slow dismantling of prey. A shrike’s small feet don’t allow it to properly grip prey, so it skewers its food to hold it in place while eating. One author refers to shrikes as “a veritable ornithological Vlad the Impaler.” The bird’s Latin name, <i>Lanius excubitor</i> (“watchful butcher”), speaks to this.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQjF6g6PvvzPXVgpF-o9qFGwb-7EPGSUJESjG9SNetqQAwL4qCKu-GCgVRIKcxwycJruFDSY3YYoqpqb2wjQ7x2jnFtolCbGF-nP7GLdkDhk8pp4i2wSRFFtIFfKZ3TENAHUPlpU9iyAyZ_raVVQo2XcI0FP9N2wKcoDSBd1Rm0ChxvUCtZ13LnbiXFxr/s1080/northern%20shrike%20capture%20of%20a%20pine%20sisken,%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1080" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQjF6g6PvvzPXVgpF-o9qFGwb-7EPGSUJESjG9SNetqQAwL4qCKu-GCgVRIKcxwycJruFDSY3YYoqpqb2wjQ7x2jnFtolCbGF-nP7GLdkDhk8pp4i2wSRFFtIFfKZ3TENAHUPlpU9iyAyZ_raVVQo2XcI0FP9N2wKcoDSBd1Rm0ChxvUCtZ13LnbiXFxr/w400-h268/northern%20shrike%20capture%20of%20a%20pine%20sisken,%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern shrike capturing a pine siskin, photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> A shrike sometimes kills several birds in a brief period, impaling them near one another on a thorn, which is a form of caching, and not much different than our freezing leftovers. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> We see “our” bird most commonly surveying the landscape from a perch at the very top of a silver maple, where its rather small size – like a robin – appears innocuous. However, if a flock of finches picks up, they will actively pursue them in flight and even into thick bushes. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The blue jays around our feeders seem unperturbed, but shrikes are known to occasionally take down birds larger than themselves, including robins, jays, and doves, so perhaps the jays need to read the literature more carefully.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Although they’re not noted for their song, over the years we’ve heard them occasionally sing, and apparently this is a ruse to get songbirds to wander over to hear who’s singing, and then the shrike can nail one.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The literature says shrikes have the </span><span style="background: white; color: #232323;">ability to spot motionless birds “frozen” on branches and to capture them before they move<span class="apple-converted-space">, so this is not good news for our hairy and downy woodpeckers who commonly use this defense strategy. </span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #232323;"> Their winter diet also includes small mammals like voles, shrews, and mice who like to scavenge for seeds under our feeders. They’re even reported to </span></span><span style="background: white;">infrequently feed on carrion.</span><span style="background: white; color: #232323;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #232323;"> We wonder how many birds or mice they need to eat per day to survive, but no one seems to know. Their success rate in capturing prey is quite low, so maybe they’re not capable of decimating our local flocks. We’re certainly hoping this is the case and will be watching.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Red and White-winged Crossbills, and the Need for Seeds<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Reports of good numbers of red and white-winged crossbills have been steadily coming in over much of North America, in particular out West. Crossbills have evolved a (wait for it . . .) crossed bill that is perfect for prying open and extracting seeds from open cones of spruces, pines, and other conifers. According to one researcher, white-winged crossbills can extract and consume 3,000 conifer seeds in a day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwwCo7VjypRRucBZqaVOdcZsKewmia073BjORKUdV3CR1E-niyBi1f3E-05pAGQsWyIkf3pH7WG8MmbLxfvYi0VqIggVTxvRNj7CzbvR5jTc3oH-F0L0OPjCvI49n0uGsHyrxDy4k2GvUGQ2ANUOH3EcVInhlaxPqLaXw0uo1nqs91Gb-Ohj8sYn3DWnl/s1611/Red%20Crossbills%20on%20Hwy%20K%20photo%20by%20Mark%20Westphal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="1611" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwwCo7VjypRRucBZqaVOdcZsKewmia073BjORKUdV3CR1E-niyBi1f3E-05pAGQsWyIkf3pH7WG8MmbLxfvYi0VqIggVTxvRNj7CzbvR5jTc3oH-F0L0OPjCvI49n0uGsHyrxDy4k2GvUGQ2ANUOH3EcVInhlaxPqLaXw0uo1nqs91Gb-Ohj8sYn3DWnl/w400-h283/Red%20Crossbills%20on%20Hwy%20K%20photo%20by%20Mark%20Westphal.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red crossbills, photo by Mark Westphal</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> This factoid led me to wonder just how many seeds are in a given cone of our various conifer species, and thus how many cones a crossbill may need to find on any given winter day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> So, here’s a sampling. For white pines, the Wisconsin Silvicultural Handbook (WSH) says the number of good seeds per cone varies from 0 to 73, with good crop years occurring every 3 to 5 years. So, for discussion’s sake, let’s say a white pine produces 50 seeds per cone in a good year, which means a single crossbill would need 60 cones a day, assuming they need that many seeds every day. Crossbills usually flock together, so a multiplier would need to be assigned here.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Red pine trees produce a mean of 45 seeds per cone in a good seed year, which means a crossbill would need 66 cones a day. Each tree, BTW, produces 50 to 200 cones or about 1,000 to 4,000 viable seeds/tree, according to the US Forest Service (USFS). Good seed crops are produced every 3 to 7 years, with bumper crops only every 10 to 12 years (WSH).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #202124;">White spruce cones average<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: #040c28;">140 seeds each, so a single crossbill would need about 20 cones a day</span><span style="background: white; color: #202124;">. These seeds are extremely lightweight averaging about 240,000 seeds per pound. Usually the seeds are blown about 330 feet, but dispersal in excess of 1000 feet is possible from mature trees. A good seed crop years occurs every 2 to 4 years (WSH).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124;"> For eastern hemlocks, I couldn’t find a source to give me a direct answer for their tiny cones, but the USFS says, </span>“In one locality, only 2.1 viable seeds were produced per cone, 2.2 were destroyed by insects, and the remaining 8.0 seeds were empty.” Let’s just say a hemlock cone may average about 10 seeds per cone, so a crossbill working on a hemlock tree would need 300 cones per day. <span style="background: white; color: #202124;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124;"> How about balsam firs? They produce 134 seeds per cone (USFS), which means a crossbill would need 22 cones per day. Good seed crops occur every 2 to 4 years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124;"> Enough statistics – the take away is that crossbills need large stands of cone-bearing conifers to make it through a winter. Thus, they often have to travel long distances to find good stands. Some crossbills have been observed to move three times in a year over a combined distance of 2,000 miles, so they are true nomads following the cone crops.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124;"> What makes them even more unique is that if the cone crop is good, they’ll breed, no matter the season. Both species are known to have nested in every month of the year, regardless of the weather.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124;"> </span> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Good News in 2023<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Americans purchased 1 million fully electric vehicles in 2023, a record, according to a report from Bloomberg New Energy Finance. Electric vehicles accounted for about 8% of all new vehicles sales in the US during the first half of 2023. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> In China, EVs accounted for 19% of all vehicle sales, and worldwide, they made up 15% of new passenger vehicle sales. EV sales in Europe were up 47% in the first nine months of 2023.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> China, the world’s biggest climate polluter, has made lightning advances in renewables, with the country set to shatter its wind and solar target five years early. China’s solar capacity is now greater than the rest of the world’s nations combined.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> It can’t be ignored, however, that China also ramped up its coal production in 2023, turning to fossil fuel as devastating heat waves increased energy demand for air conditioning, and as persistent drought in the country’s south impacted hydroelectric supplies, which are reliant on sufficient rainfall.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> It’s a problem. Climate change keeps amping up the need for more renewable energy sources, and already we’re not moving fast enough to meet today’s energy requirements, much less the future needs caused by a warming climate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Solar and Wind Energy Expected to Overtake Coal This Year<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Still, in much of the U.S., it’s already cheaper to build and operate an entirely new solar or wind plant than to continue operating an existing coal-fired plant. The electricity generated by wind and solar combined is expected to surpass coal-fired electricity sometime this year, according to forecasts from the independent U.S. Energy Information Administration: “We expect that the 23 gigawatts (GW) in 2023 and 37 GW in 2024 of new solar capacity scheduled to come online will help U.S. solar generation grow by 39% in 2024. We expect solar and wind generation together in 2024 to overtake electric power generation from coal for the first year ever, exceeding coal by nearly 90 billion kilowatt hours.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNYgteGBZyR2sZnMmmD2ltoRVx_jmrc1xw8NgU0D2KvPJB8RcuUcNmRHQZwYwrraclP0q0nOZyNr6H1rltjR0zvoKzYpqVEUXpH7RMH11b2H2l15PIzxn8pcF6FD6frfDlBNR6_jOQMQZzllQwnjl_jWsFWO_TK_Bj6-1HPzCXU4HlZ7dEknAzEwr9soJ/s1302/U.S.%20electricity%20generated%20by%20wind%20and%20solar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1178" data-original-width="1302" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNYgteGBZyR2sZnMmmD2ltoRVx_jmrc1xw8NgU0D2KvPJB8RcuUcNmRHQZwYwrraclP0q0nOZyNr6H1rltjR0zvoKzYpqVEUXpH7RMH11b2H2l15PIzxn8pcF6FD6frfDlBNR6_jOQMQZzllQwnjl_jWsFWO_TK_Bj6-1HPzCXU4HlZ7dEknAzEwr9soJ/w400-h363/U.S.%20electricity%20generated%20by%20wind%20and%20solar.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Snowy Owl-less Winter So Far<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Very few snowy owls have been seen in WI or most of the lower 48 this year. So far, there have been only a handful of snowy owls reported from the western Great Lakes east to New England. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> You have to go back to the early winter of 2010 to find a year with so few snowy owl reports in eastern and central North America. The Audubon Christmas Bird Count (CBC) tallied just five snowy owls continent-wide that year. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Off-years like this one are part of the periodic boom and bust in snowy owl breeding ecology. Occasionally they suffer from a poor lemming year, their main prey, and thus a poor breeding season for the owls results, with fewer young birds coming south.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The unusually mild winter weather so far may also be conspiring to keep owls farther north than normal. It’s also possible that the effects of highly pathogenic avian influenza (HPAI), which has hit snowy owls fairly hard, could be a cause. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Our days are growing longer now by more than 2 minutes per day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The next two weeks or so (Jan. 20 to Feb. 5) are when we experience, on average, the coldest low temperatures of the year.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The full moon – Native American names include the “Frost in the Teepee” or The Wolf” or “The Great Spirit” moon – occurs on 1/25. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> After dusk, look for Jupiter high in the south and Saturn very low in the southwest. Before dawn, look for Venus low in the southeast and Mars rising in the southeast.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “Right now, everyone is looking for sources of guidance, resilience, and beauty in a world that’s turned upside down. We’re looking for those who can speak to our core need to respect and honor our relationships with one another and with the living world.” - Curt Meine<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white; color: black; text-decoration: none;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-22633410743471263092024-01-05T07:59:00.000-08:002024-01-05T07:59:22.170-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for Jan. 5-18, 2024<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for Jan. 5-18, 2024 </span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">by John Bates</span></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Christmas Bird Counts- Manitowish Waters and Minocqua<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">On 12/18, twenty-four volunteers counted birds in the Manitowish Waters area as part of Audubon’s 124<sup>th</sup>Christmas Bird Count. This was our 31<sup>st</sup> count year, and unique to the count was our warm weather and snowless landscape – it felt like October out there! Bird abundance was quite low in response to the weather, but we still found 25 species, which mirrored our average species count over all these years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Some highlights: American goldfinch outpaced all other birds, including black-capped chickadees. We were thrilled to spot one rough-legged hawk, a result of our lack of snow – usually they are well south of us by now where they can hunt on open ground. And we were very lucky to get a common merganser, a result of open water still occurring on many rivers and creeks..<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> I was very surprised and pleased that we got one pine siskin and had one sighting of 28 common redpolls. Both species have been scarce so far this winter. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Bohemian waxwings were the only Canadian species present in any significant numbers. We had 50 or more feeding on our crabapple trees alone, and they’re still around as of this writing (12/28).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwsDtPZ1Xypw065Su03CiZeauO_tCURPeH6-nOyKu2t_lfpSFQytWQUWeWp6eUZaab8uJqMJsSYGU8BN7aXckvLf5Wyb7Rtj49XO8vjve62tSZIyQn5qtOMpsVR61r43Pj5iaT1Xr7Cf5kdWQCLTy4LxstTleVuBqPVmcksm15umwsu9BdKPrGQZQGhC4v/s3158/bohemian%20waxwings%20122323%20Manitowish%202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2142" data-original-width="3158" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwsDtPZ1Xypw065Su03CiZeauO_tCURPeH6-nOyKu2t_lfpSFQytWQUWeWp6eUZaab8uJqMJsSYGU8BN7aXckvLf5Wyb7Rtj49XO8vjve62tSZIyQn5qtOMpsVR61r43Pj5iaT1Xr7Cf5kdWQCLTy4LxstTleVuBqPVmcksm15umwsu9BdKPrGQZQGhC4v/w400-h271/bohemian%20waxwings%20122323%20Manitowish%202.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bohemian waxwing photo out one of our windows</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Conspicuous by their absence, however, were other Canadian birds like purple finches, pine grosbeaks, evening grosbeaks, and both species of crossbills. The good news relative to their scarcity is that it means they’re doing well in Canada and have no reason to migrate south. Our loss in sightings means their gain in winter survival.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Conspicuous also was the continued absence of Canada jays – it’s over a decade since one appeared in our count area.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Overall then, this was a very quiet count. My thought on why is that birds don’t need to come to feeders, or come south from Canada, when it’s this warm and this snowless. Until we get heavy snows and intense cold, they’ll likely remain north.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> The Minocqua Christmas Count took place on 12/28, and while I don’t have the final tally yet, the highlight for our count group was a small flock of snow buntings on a tiny stretch of sand on Big Arbor Vitae Lake. As ground feeders, snow buntings typically have no choice but to migrate far south of here to forage on open grasslands and soils. This count year, however, we had no measurable snow, so some have stayed north.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Cat Faces<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">Mary and I often hike in an area with fire scars on many of the big red and white pines. The term that I’ve always used for these scars is “cat faces.” Cat faces are usually found on the backside of the trunk where a fire burning up a slope has wrapped around the tree. As the fire passes by, the fire “eddies” on the backside and can sit there and burn while the rest of the fire continues forward. Thus, you can surmise the direction the fire was running by where the cat face is on the trunk. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Cat face scars in mature pines are often a legacy of multiple past fires, as well as the localized attacks of bark beetles within the scorched regions of the bole. Each wounding event expands the percentage of the trunk that could be exposed to future fires.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> The largest cat faces I’ve seen in Wisconsin’s Northwoods are perhaps seven feet high on the trunk, but in California sequoias and coastal redwoods, the cat face can be astonishingly enormous. Over their lifetimes, a fire might burn a cave-like hole in the trunk up to a hundred feet off the ground. I’ve included a few photos of white pine, red pine, and redwood cat faces to illustrate what they look like.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCGOalAQSMoY3Z90P4M657UZQm1iF856O72t4IaATdd82iZQudpaWsLwSFla41eCHDHJsvLnLWccqd7tTZZOOiXIkYRrAIZ02iDzfc_pOm6G8dq71NeBBRGK3PCvOQSsw_ZeobDSrYC-1TFq0ibabKy0zGxYqaf6RCL8ya56BvW9EYQ6otuChOJYSTlpq/s753/fire%20scar%20on%20og%20white%20pine.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="648" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCGOalAQSMoY3Z90P4M657UZQm1iF856O72t4IaATdd82iZQudpaWsLwSFla41eCHDHJsvLnLWccqd7tTZZOOiXIkYRrAIZ02iDzfc_pOm6G8dq71NeBBRGK3PCvOQSsw_ZeobDSrYC-1TFq0ibabKy0zGxYqaf6RCL8ya56BvW9EYQ6otuChOJYSTlpq/w344-h400/fire%20scar%20on%20og%20white%20pine.JPG" width="344" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fire scar on white pine</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><span style="background: white;"><br /></span><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZqdxm3vup_mtuPDSzLLk0sd8wTMvRYtGlCRCORBsq9DhJt8teaId-RGBnI62lA0wBuF26gda-fZ7N01EtrrUKOt-qUWN-g-c1WoXMJRlLSqsCgRTg0lgT7MzVtASdTtOVYBqRx8IkMp-7SW5Ms9XyZeXpPscjTRVh4ogumbiVC3zj9_gGioorLzPnv-q6/s864/Red%20pine%20fire%20scar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="648" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZqdxm3vup_mtuPDSzLLk0sd8wTMvRYtGlCRCORBsq9DhJt8teaId-RGBnI62lA0wBuF26gda-fZ7N01EtrrUKOt-qUWN-g-c1WoXMJRlLSqsCgRTg0lgT7MzVtASdTtOVYBqRx8IkMp-7SW5Ms9XyZeXpPscjTRVh4ogumbiVC3zj9_gGioorLzPnv-q6/w300-h400/Red%20pine%20fire%20scar.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fire scar on red pine in Frog Lake and Pines SNA</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><br /><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHhkAHgbps_9HtQAdSn_1G18qcAyHD0Y1hcr273UZEAEIxyD7_YFz1j0n6Qm1AhrFusOxH6MhG63wyCaGkXbpyncW5cMAU6PykHU0fgVwpClJC9ziywYw35xkrocSOXXyN37lqzX0cht4geFCapzxUCbLVCCEZ-LfDmfUGjuvjWmd4Q_NNFCibaHoK2U5/s1350/fire%20scar%20on%20a%20redwood%20tree,%20Kings%20Canyon%20NP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHhkAHgbps_9HtQAdSn_1G18qcAyHD0Y1hcr273UZEAEIxyD7_YFz1j0n6Qm1AhrFusOxH6MhG63wyCaGkXbpyncW5cMAU6PykHU0fgVwpClJC9ziywYw35xkrocSOXXyN37lqzX0cht4geFCapzxUCbLVCCEZ-LfDmfUGjuvjWmd4Q_NNFCibaHoK2U5/w320-h400/fire%20scar%20on%20a%20redwood%20tree,%20Kings%20Canyon%20NP.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fire scar on a redwood</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Cat face is also a term used for the scars caused from the early use of Caterpillar dozers scraping the sides of the tree trunks with their steel tracks/blades, or from an overgrown knot or overgrown scar caused by a falling tree on the trunk of an adjoining tree.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">A Tale of Two Winters<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">Our continued warm winter weather and lack of snow stands in complete contrast to last winter’s deep snows that lasted all the way into May. At this time last year, we were skiing on a two-foot base of snow and working extra hard to break snowshoe trails. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Deer Hunt/Wolf Population<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">The endless debate, as well as the endless repetition of misinformation, continues on both the impact of wolves on Wisconsin’s white-tailed deer and the reasons for why the 2023 deer harvest was lower than 2022, and what that all means.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;">So let’s start with some wolf math:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->1-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">How many deer in Wisconsin? – 1.6 million was the estimate this fall.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->2-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">How many of those deer live in the northern counties (north of Hwy. 64)? 400,000 is the estimate most frequently given.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->3-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">How many deer does a single wolf kill in a year? All research says 15-19 per year. Let’s say 20 to make the math easy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->4-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">How many wolves do we have in Wisconsin? Current estimate is around 1,000.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->5-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">So, how many deer do wolves kill on average currently? Around 20,000.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->6-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">We have 400,000 deer in the North Country; the wolves kill 20,000. This leaves us with 380,000 deer.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->7-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">If the DNR wolf estimate is low, as some allege, let’s up it to 1,500. Multiply by 20 deer eaten per year by each wolf – that’s 30,000 deer, and still leaves us with 370,000 in the North Country. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->8-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">The only other kink in these statistics is that we may not have had 400,000 deer in the northern counties this fall due to the extreme snow conditions of last winter, which led to low fawn reproduction this spring. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;">Some deer math:</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> As of 12/28/23, the total deer harvest for all seasons (gun, archery, crossbow, youth, muzzleloader, December antlerless, and antler-less holiday) for Wisconsin was 284,203, according to the WDNR. Of that, hunters registered the final number of 175,060 white-tailed deer during the nine-day gun deer season, a decrease of around 18% from 2022. However, keep in mind that in 2021, the total nine-day gun deer season harvest was 175,667, almost exactly what was harvested this year. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Why is the deer hunt down from last year? Lots of possible reasons:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->1-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">While the Wisconsin winter of 2022-23 was moderate overall in the northern forest region, it included “very severe” conditions due to heavy snows in five northwestern counties – Iron, Ashland, Bayfield, Washburn, and Douglas, according to the DNR's annual report on winter severity. The number one reason for annual deer population increases or decreases is weather – in particular, the severity and length of the previous winter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->2-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">The weather was mild statewide during the entire 2023 hunt, with most days featuring temperatures in the 40s, with light winds, and no snow on the landscape, making it more difficult for hunters to see and track deer.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->3-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">A large acorn crop was reported in most of the state, providing more natural food for deer and helping reduce movement.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->4-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">Deer baiting over the years has trained many deer to be nocturnal. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->5-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;">Predation is also a factor, and we have many predators on the landscape who eat deer. Coyotes rank #1 in predation of deer, bears #2, bobcats #3, and wolves #4, according to all the best studies conducted to date on deer predation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Deer Harvest Comparisons</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> All this begs an additional evaluation: Compared to <u>many</u> previous deer harvests, how was the deer harvest? </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> A little lower than average. Harvests go up and down for a host of reasons, but overall they’ve been relatively consistent since 2009. </span><span style="background: white;">Deer harvests were abnormally high from 1995 to 2008 due to an extreme overabundance of deer, so if you’re comparing harvests to those years, yes, deer harvests are down. But compared to years earlier than this period, or after this period, deer harvests are for the most part equal or compared to early years, much higher now. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhSOnPOOHH9LzT-XOg_SzPDShE4CLfR3Ek31iKQIZOsShYx-QtXZdc4FH9pN3hKkOGZH56kuaHsC3U2QF1RJxpfMC7WMlwhYXIkeG2dxBzUKeS9QQ9THRrfo4lbpnaNfkE6LgRW9v0AT7tD0x9l1sc9TL8a7m_BlTHpcWXTaRWXdmARrdKuD4oVWflDNv/s1200/Total%20Deer%20Harvest%201960%20to%202022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1200" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhSOnPOOHH9LzT-XOg_SzPDShE4CLfR3Ek31iKQIZOsShYx-QtXZdc4FH9pN3hKkOGZH56kuaHsC3U2QF1RJxpfMC7WMlwhYXIkeG2dxBzUKeS9QQ9THRrfo4lbpnaNfkE6LgRW9v0AT7tD0x9l1sc9TL8a7m_BlTHpcWXTaRWXdmARrdKuD4oVWflDNv/w640-h374/Total%20Deer%20Harvest%201960%20to%202022.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer harvest stats from 1960 to 2022</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><span style="background: white;">Please look at the charts of the historical total deer harvests in Wisconsin since 1960, as well as the historical antlered harvests from 1960. Antlered harvests, for instance, have been pretty flat since 2009 after a concerted effort was made to reduce deer herd numbers due to their impacts on the landscape. The difference in the statewide antlered harvest for the 5 yr. average from 2018 to 2022 compared to the 2023 antlered harvest is only 5,307 (91,205 compared to 85,848).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> The ultimate question is what should the hunting public and the rest of the non-hunting public expect as a reasonable number of deer to be harvested every year? That’s a highly debatable number depending on what you desire – high populations of deer to increase your personal harvest or low population numbers to reduce landscape-wide impacts of deer on forest reproduction, farm/garden crops, and home landscaping.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> Currently, 11.7% of Wisconsin residents buy a deer hunting license.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> On Jan. 8<sup>th</sup>, the sun will finally rise earlier at 7:39 for the first time since June 9, 2023. The sun has been “stuck” rising at 7:40 from 12/27 to 1/7.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> The new moon occurs on 1/11. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> We hit 9 hours of daylight on 1/13 – recall that at winter solstice we were only receiving 8 hours and 39 minutes of daylight. So, there’s progress!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> On 1/14, look after dusk for Saturn two degrees above the waxing crescent moon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">On the erosion of truth in societies: “It proceeds from open hostility to the truth, to overt lying, to endless repetition of those lies, to magical thinking (i.e., an open embrace of contradiction), to misplaced faith in one person or ideal (‘I am your voice’).”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">An observation regarding the last step: “Once truth had become oracular [uttered as if divinely inspired or infallible] rather than factual, evidence was irrelevant.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">- From <i>On Tyranny</i>, by Timothy Snyder and Nora Krug.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-63233545489612668582023-12-19T19:49:00.000-08:002023-12-19T19:50:15.334-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for 12/22/23 – 1/4/24<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for 12/22/23</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Big Pines<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b><span style="color: #050505;">Last week,<b> </b>daughter<b> </b>Callie and I bushwhacked to a site southern Iron County that supports some old white pines. The largest one we found had a diameter of 46.5 inches, which is in the top range for white pines on our current Wisconsin landscape. A smaller white pine, “only” 41.5 inches, had a very large fire scar. None of the other trees nearby, however, showed any signs of fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7A2h0X0rdzGZj0TGVhk1uAsGQAi2ItYNdhmsUVDAtKAgPnqg5mmEI19HCmJrk-BjI_UFrcVUY8vQ_LisUK-FAsiypV0UEiiKabbmVrAZ7GXFo6mMt5eJpu8FwdrTmqxqQvtoCQxKu11yv386_-d4Wj_-l4sbZLIP8lFpJ5ApcGvd-1am-zfl55d8I0imB/s864/46.5%22%20dbh%2012:10:23%20Callie%20Bates.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="648" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7A2h0X0rdzGZj0TGVhk1uAsGQAi2ItYNdhmsUVDAtKAgPnqg5mmEI19HCmJrk-BjI_UFrcVUY8vQ_LisUK-FAsiypV0UEiiKabbmVrAZ7GXFo6mMt5eJpu8FwdrTmqxqQvtoCQxKu11yv386_-d4Wj_-l4sbZLIP8lFpJ5ApcGvd-1am-zfl55d8I0imB/w300-h400/46.5%22%20dbh%2012:10:23%20Callie%20Bates.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">46.5" dbh white pine</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Three observations: One, both trees had stubs of lower branches, which indicates they were open-grown trees. Therefore, they did not grow in a competing stand of similar-aged pines, because if they had, they wouldn’t have lower branches near to the ground. Pines competing for light in a dense stand of trees seldom invest energy in growing lower branches – they have to put most of their energy into reaching the canopy before other trees can get there. So, they grow straight, tall, and with very few, if any, lower limbs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Two: Both pines became double-stemmed about 15 to 20 feet up. I call these “goalpost” trees, but I suppose you could call them “pitchfork” trees or “wishbone” trees, too. What has happened to these pines is that the leader stem was broken off, and two of the lateral branches then bent upward over time to take over the role of the leader stem. Often the breakage of the leader stem is due to a porcupine nipping it for food, or because of white pine weevil larvae chewing and burrowing completely around the stem causing the leader stem to die. My bet would be on a porcupine because the weevils usually attack younger trees, and these two trees were already nearly 20 feet tall.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Three: The large fire scar – about five feet from the base of the tree to the top of the scar – says that a fire came through here at some point likely killing most of the other trees since there are no others nearby with fire scars. But this pine survived. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGuh4RRdNG96TeJhWtDik-PNIs2tAEjXCyk1EqXUL_oIf6mvWsy36ncErkD8BwHZXZeIyQZMhBq-AdyMTr2I8l7NN5gnUifTvEcmZZqwYTXEX5ZOFh42VvVLhH01Aq8im6N9DzJeMIkU1qtBxJQUYyfhogPuHz_1ry8h-9CPomT6eJfKun9iWeEBkKliz/s864/41.5%22%20dbh%20with%20fire%20scar%2012:10:23%20John%20Bates.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="648" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGuh4RRdNG96TeJhWtDik-PNIs2tAEjXCyk1EqXUL_oIf6mvWsy36ncErkD8BwHZXZeIyQZMhBq-AdyMTr2I8l7NN5gnUifTvEcmZZqwYTXEX5ZOFh42VvVLhH01Aq8im6N9DzJeMIkU1qtBxJQUYyfhogPuHz_1ry8h-9CPomT6eJfKun9iWeEBkKliz/w300-h400/41.5%22%20dbh%20with%20fire%20scar%2012:10:23%20John%20Bates.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">41.5" dbh white pine with fire scar</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> I’d be fascinated to core both of the trees to determine their ages. My bet is that they’re not all that old – perhaps 130 to 150 years. White pines grow fast when, without competition, they’re given all the nearby nutrients and sunshine. I remember Mary and I stopping a decade ago at a home near Bayfield that had a massive, open-grown white pine in its yard (see the photo). We measured its diameter at nearly 50 inches, but when we asked the property owners about the tree, they showed us a picture of when it was planted in the mid-1890s. So, the tree was only around 115 years old at that time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRytNvjnsPyjTPpbLCLq6_yDXX3keR0rooXv6ZL2AOIeGzW_wJiNm94BSwu9-2b_ly7-D-rmpmgWIarrQVgi7OkPHz3nSSs1Vis2YUvfUmUwF0wOXsuD_0MLQ39BrKhj8IDcDPpodLLCaO1xxO-pzK0C80w7AuEuKldDVjCCrpWHBnCbQzkM-Au7DCWdQ/s964/white%20pine,%20open%20grown%20near%20Bayfield%20.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="648" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRytNvjnsPyjTPpbLCLq6_yDXX3keR0rooXv6ZL2AOIeGzW_wJiNm94BSwu9-2b_ly7-D-rmpmgWIarrQVgi7OkPHz3nSSs1Vis2YUvfUmUwF0wOXsuD_0MLQ39BrKhj8IDcDPpodLLCaO1xxO-pzK0C80w7AuEuKldDVjCCrpWHBnCbQzkM-Au7DCWdQ/w269-h400/white%20pine,%20open%20grown%20near%20Bayfield%20.jpg" width="269" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">open-grown white pine in Bayfield County</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> On the other hand, given how large the fire scar is, the tree could be 200 years old, or much older yet. White pines can live up to 400 years, so maybe I should take back my bet. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Age and size don’t always correlate in trees – so much depends on the conditions and the context.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> No matter the age of the trees, we were delighted to find such large “grandmothers,” and can only hope they’ll continue to stand up to the ravages of high winds and potential fires.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Ice-up: Foster Lake Ice Dates<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b><span style="color: #050505;">Ice-up on our lakes was a bit late this year. The date for every lake varies significantly based on water depth, surface area, amount of fetch (distance the wind can carry across the lake), the direction of the fetch, and the surrounding landscape. On 37-acre Foster Lake in Hazelhurst where Woody Hagge has been keeping records for 48 years, the lake iced over on 11/30, three days later than the average date for the lake which is 11/27. Earliest ice-up on Foster over all those years was 11/7/1991; the latest ice-up was 12/28/2015.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> If you’re already counting the days until ice-out (God bless you, but you’re going to soon need a vacation in the south), here are Woody’s stats: Earliest ice-out in the spring was 3/20/2012; latest ice-out was 5/7/1996. Average date is 4/17.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> So, taking the average ice-up and ice-out dates, using Foster as an “average” lake, we can look forward to around 141 days of ice-cover, or about 39% of the year.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Wisdom Returns!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">Wisdom, a wild female Laysan albatross and the world’s oldest known wild bird, returned on December 4 to Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge in the North Pacific Ocean. This latest sighting means her estimated age is now at least 72 years old. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">Her long-time mate, Akeakamai, has yet to be seen and was absent the last two nesting seasons. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">Jonathan Plissner, supervisory wildlife biologist at the national wildlife refuge, said he doesn’t expect Wisdom to nest this year, but he did witness the seabird participating in mating dances.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">Biologists first identified and banded Wisdom in 1956 after she laid an egg. The large seabirds aren’t known to breed until at least age 5.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">It is estimated that Wisdom has produced 50 to 60 eggs and as many as 30 chicks that fledged, according to Plissner.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">Each year, millions of seabirds return to the wildlife refuge to nest, and Wisdom has been doing this since the Eisenhower administration. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Solar Panels<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Mary and I installed 22 solar panels four years ago, and to date, the panels have produced 30.6 MWh (megawatt hours) of energy, which has amounted to $3,647 off our utility bill. This is almost exactly what the solar company had estimated we would receive, and we’re quite happy with this result – every time the sun is out, we’re making money!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzL_ryCo16HSCfv7ZOZa2WuOArHlMF1h6pNh2w7FwbdfRy02Tdgwyj0cmfZIAf-uQQowvFGpe4foXJ5R-gnyNh4xby5qbjaZaj_p4SOKuQ24drL6h_ePJ3M_Wnbq0MGtOzHElMd8VWUUXcXEGTJSMl8l0lr-mN4RUP4pEYAuz8mzykGOt6NWPmoZTm3S1/s2000/Solar%20Panels%20in%20Manitowish.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzL_ryCo16HSCfv7ZOZa2WuOArHlMF1h6pNh2w7FwbdfRy02Tdgwyj0cmfZIAf-uQQowvFGpe4foXJ5R-gnyNh4xby5qbjaZaj_p4SOKuQ24drL6h_ePJ3M_Wnbq0MGtOzHElMd8VWUUXcXEGTJSMl8l0lr-mN4RUP4pEYAuz8mzykGOt6NWPmoZTm3S1/w400-h300/Solar%20Panels%20in%20Manitowish.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">22 solar panels on our home in Manitowish</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">A number of people have asked us about our panels, but we have no idea how many folks have taken the next step to actually install them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">So, what convinces people to take that next step? Well, researchers in the March Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences examined data from 430 individual studies to see what factors influenced people’s environment-related behaviors, from recycling to switching modes of transportation to installing solar.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">Researchers found the most important factor that determined whether someone installed panels on their roof wasn’t subsidies, geography or policy. It was whether their neighbor had them. A single solar rooftop project increases installations by nearly 50 percent within a half-mile radius.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">In other words, what we do or don’t do is contagious – we are profoundly influenced by how others act.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: #050505;">You’d think providing data or facts would matter the most, but the researchers found facts ranked last, persuading an average of only 3.5% of people to change their behavior compared to a control group. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Appeals to act more sustainably, more morally, fared better, but were still middling.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Financial incentives such as subsidies or savings performed relatively well, persuading about 12%. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> But leading the pack were what scientists called “social comparisons” where people observed the behavior of others and compared it with their own. This persuaded more than 14% of people to change their behavior in experiments from around the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> The upshot? Well, it supports the old saying that actions are stronger than words. If we want to create change, we have to be the change.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Hottest Summer on Record in the Arctic<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">This past summer was the hottest on record in the Arctic, which is warming nearly four times faster than any other location on the planet. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">According to a report released by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, key data points show that the Arctic continues to become less icy, wetter and greener. The trends, all linked to a warming climate, have been observed for decades.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">The report, from 82 authors in 13 countries, makes clear that the Arctic continues to change, with the past 17 years accounting for the 17 smallest annual minimum sea ice covers in the 45-year satellite record.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Endangered Species Act Anniversary<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span>This month marks the 50th anniversary of the Endangered Species Act. President Richard Nixon signed the law on Dec. 28, 1973. The conservation law grew out of a simple concept: to protect endangered and threatened species from extinction and protect their habitats. The ESA has proven to be one of the world’s most effective wildlife conservation laws, credited with saving 99% of the species it protects. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The Endangered Species Act currently protects 1,662 U.S. species and 638 foreign species, from iconic species like the whooping crane to the Apache trout in the Colorado River Basin.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> On 12/22, look before dawn for the rather modest peak of the Ursid meteor showers – expect about 10 meteors per hour. Later in the evening, look for Jupiter about 3 degrees below the waxing gibbous moon. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> As of 12/23, our days begin growing longer by the tiniest of amounts – 0.05 seconds. But hey, you have to start somewhere.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> December’s full moon – the “Little Spirit” or “Popping Trees” Moon – occurs on 12/26, and will be our year’s northernmost moonrise and highest altitude moonrise. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Sunsets have been growing later since 12/12, but as of 12/30, we will hit our latest sunrise of the year at 7:40 A.M. The sun will stall here for 5 days, but on Jan. 6, the sunrise will come one minute earlier. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> And though it seems counterintuitive, in 2024, Earth's perihelion, its closest point to the sun, is on January 3. We’re 3.1 million miles closer than we will be in July when we’re the farthest away from the sun. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> You’d think the closer we are, the warmer it would be . . . but no. It’s all about the tilt of the Earth to the sun, not the distance of the earth from the sun. The Northern Hemisphere is tilted away from the sun in the winter, and tilted toward the sun in the summer.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">“The place to improve the world is first in one's own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.” – Robert Pirsig</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-79180901020285552102023-12-07T07:47:00.000-08:002023-12-07T07:48:29.513-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for 12/8-21/23<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for 12/8-21/23</span></b><span style="background: repeat white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">USFWS Recreation Survey<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Every five years the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service conducts a survey to help gauge outdoor activity in the nation. More than 100,000 Americans responded to the 2022 survey in households across America.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The survey found 148 million U.S. residents watched wildlife in 2022, 40 million went fishing, and 14 million hunted.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">This means that roughly 57% of Americans 16 years of age or older participated in wildlife watching, 15% fished and 6% hunted last year.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Monetarily, this translated in 2022 into $250 billion spent on wildlife watching, $99 billion spent on fishing, and $45 billion spent on hunting.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">No specific breakdown was available by state. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">See </span><span style="background: repeat white; color: #954f72;"><a href="https://www.fws.gov/program/national-survey-fishing-hunting-and-wildlife-associated-recreation-fhwar" style="color: #954f72;">https://www.fws.gov/program/national-survey-fishing-hunting-and-wildlife-associated-recreation-fhwar</a></span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKhWVHEimWbQu5MmkyuziRoTgdbQZd5-xEdBmzp27chHp4An0AYZ8xGTZlnirLZ9quga3tTneiNxqtdbzmI0ZbRz0Ll6VB9hhl8l-HfhpauqrHc-SSoggixMGHolIIsc6m3W6whRM6jgMZYXNsVsrr6-1IoN_2ly87ducOfJG6DY7nFegqADuh4HkcFRX/s1902/Screen%20Shot%202023-12-07%20at%209.41.35%20AM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1902" data-original-width="1824" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKhWVHEimWbQu5MmkyuziRoTgdbQZd5-xEdBmzp27chHp4An0AYZ8xGTZlnirLZ9quga3tTneiNxqtdbzmI0ZbRz0Ll6VB9hhl8l-HfhpauqrHc-SSoggixMGHolIIsc6m3W6whRM6jgMZYXNsVsrr6-1IoN_2ly87ducOfJG6DY7nFegqADuh4HkcFRX/w614-h640/Screen%20Shot%202023-12-07%20at%209.41.35%20AM.jpg" width="614" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Marcescence<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">As winter descends upon us, nearly all hardwood trees have dropped their leaves. However, a few species have retained many of their leaves, and the rattling of those dried leaves on a winter morning somehow adds to the chill in the air. Pin oak and red oak, ironwood, and beech trees all have evolved this strategy, a process called marcescence (pronounced “mar-CESS-enss”), derived from the Latin <i>marcescere </i>(“to fade”). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The question then is why? What advantage is there for a tree to hang onto its dead leaves? The most fitting theory I think is that leaf retention helps to limit herbivory of developing buds. The shriveled leaves hid the buds, and thus they are likely to be browed by deer and other herbivores. A study conducted in Denmark demonstrated that ungulates like deer avoid browsing branches of beech and hornbeam in part because of the low nutrient value of the leaves – they are low in protein and nitrogen and high in lignins which are difficult to digest. Ungulates generally are unable to avoid eating the dead leaves when they’re trying to browse for stems and buds. Thus, marcescent leaves act as a defense mechanism against browsing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Others theorize that dropping ones’ leaves in the spring provides a fresh layer of mulch around the tree to hold moisture and add nutrients. Fallen leaves in the spring also absorb heat from the sun – we’ve all noticed how leaves sunken into the snow increase snowmelt. Perhaps these advantages allow a tree’s sap to begin flowing earlier, which is advantageous in an evolutionary sense. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Beats me. All I know for sure is that on utterly quiet winter days, the rattling of those dessicated leaves often offer a welcome sound in an otherwise silent world.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Wildlife Species in Wisconsin<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> In preparing a recent talk, I tried to quantify the abundance of wildlife we have in our state. The numbers I found were these:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">75 species of mammals<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">235 species of nesting birds<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">160 species of fish<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">37 species of reptiles<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">19 species of amphibians<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">81 species of mussels<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">And somewhere between 20,000 and 40,000 species of insects<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Every one of those species has to account for the impacts of our winters, or else they won’t survive. Each one has a story regarding its adaptations to winter. Some are simple – they leave, though that has its own complexity! Those that remain have to go to great lengths to make it to spring. Over the 33 years I’ve written this column, I’ve told you many of these stories, but there’s always more to tell. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Let’s start with the lowly meadow vole.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Reasons to Love Voles<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> I recently read an article on voles in the Upper Peninsula, and I thought I would do best to simply excerpt from the article (posted in “U.P. Native Plants”):<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“We are currently working to keep voles out of our winter plant storage areas where we will be overwintering thousands of plants. Last year voles hit us hard – nesting in the storage yards and eating the roots of the plants in the pots and plug flats under the snow. Experiences like this are probably why most vole discussions focus on how to deter or kill voles. But here are four reasons everyone, especially native plant enthusiasts, should love voles. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“Reason number one is that voles improve your soil. Voles are short-tailed rodents that live on or near the surface of the ground . . . Voles are not mice. Mice have long tails and a tendency to live in houses. Nor are they moles. Moles live underground and tunnel to eat insects. Voles make a nest in a shallow burrow or under logs or debris. In winter, their nests in the UP are on the surface of the ground under the snow. Snow-melt will reveal soft balls of grass that lined the nests and feeding trenches leading out into surface vegetation . . .<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPJU6hM-Cpd7P2TMeoplRI7nTBs1Ul4uQb9ALzoDQbyvnHzKy8fdRMlNvRwfkLEwRdcBERqdmKYPjn3xp2HMGCmzCND0r_WCsjaDr9A2xUn_i5t6m_8u7rreKeqLLOxZxjgWh74wsu38yVMWkK2WCSqKlwvShTGGKKLMelOQZcFpn6QP_Mr9G0HTYNvEA/s500/From%20Northern%20Woodlands%20Magazine,%20illustration%20%20by%20Adelaide%20Tyrol.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="285" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPJU6hM-Cpd7P2TMeoplRI7nTBs1Ul4uQb9ALzoDQbyvnHzKy8fdRMlNvRwfkLEwRdcBERqdmKYPjn3xp2HMGCmzCND0r_WCsjaDr9A2xUn_i5t6m_8u7rreKeqLLOxZxjgWh74wsu38yVMWkK2WCSqKlwvShTGGKKLMelOQZcFpn6QP_Mr9G0HTYNvEA/w228-h400/From%20Northern%20Woodlands%20Magazine,%20illustration%20%20by%20Adelaide%20Tyrol.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Northern Woodlands magazine, illustration by Adelaide Tyrol</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“Their life on and just under the ground surface means voles are constantly mulching grass stems and plant leaves into the soil, either on the floor of their feeding paths or in their shallow nests. As they nest and dig for roots, they aerate the soil, leaving behind little fertilizer deposits, too! This disturbance also helps with water absorption. Humans seeking the carpet-lawn look can find the visuals annoying, but disturbance of the ground surface and the recycling of plant nutrients into the soil helps keep soil alive and nutritious for our plants. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“The second reason to love voles is pest control. Voles are omnivorous, opportunistic feeders and will dine on many insects, including slugs! Last summer was wet and the slugs had a great time at the nursery, coming out at night to eat our plants down to the ground, often damaging the crown so badly the plant did not recover. It’s hard to hate voles when they are allies in keeping the slug population in check. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“. . . Reason three to love voles is that they are the base of the animal food chain. Their rapid reproduction means a steady supply of prey for foxes, martins, snakes, owls, hawks, and many other interesting predators . . . if we want interesting predators in our world, we have to tolerate voles. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYk-2KiDHxtXDLiMkeXhSgU2CGN0QDHWVbnb1sSk7n7ml9r0qI8b2xc2ol0xWuLHy9IHOATZdYGM0UNo9xPp_PyxMJrRrmlK0N6plbh0F85VgkCqXCvC_b1vYWr1fmkAKDaSiljlgU_KqbXMsclRtvPP3EcHacH4Tegb9vMKR55XinJ3rlWyuP7V2p3Co/s369/meadow%20vole.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="260" data-original-width="369" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYk-2KiDHxtXDLiMkeXhSgU2CGN0QDHWVbnb1sSk7n7ml9r0qI8b2xc2ol0xWuLHy9IHOATZdYGM0UNo9xPp_PyxMJrRrmlK0N6plbh0F85VgkCqXCvC_b1vYWr1fmkAKDaSiljlgU_KqbXMsclRtvPP3EcHacH4Tegb9vMKR55XinJ3rlWyuP7V2p3Co/w400-h281/meadow%20vole.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“Finally, the best reason for native plant enthusiasts to love voles is that they disperse seeds. Voles stockpile food for the winter, and seeds of native plants are on the menu. Voles gather seeds and move them to winter storage areas, Because of vole activity, these areas are slightly disturbed, aerated, fertilized, and have good water absorption. The storage areas are also free of many insects that might eat the seeds. For a seed that gets dropped, overlooked, or left behind, the voles have created a perfect planting bed. In the spring, the seed will have an ideal place to grow – spreading native plants for next year’s voles, and for us.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">They also may gnaw on tree bark under the snow, so be sure to wrap your orchard trees.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Next spring when the snow is finally gone and you see pathways cut into your grass, these are the likely culprits. Despite any minor harm they may have caused, try to feel good about them. Maybe even get a little crazy and thank them for the overall good that they do.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Blame the Acorns<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">In 1989, the DNR estimated Wisconsin had about 9,000 bears, but by 2022, the population had increased to over 25,000. Nevertheless, this fall Wisconsin hunters registered 2,922 black bears, the lowest kill since 2008 and 64% below the statewide goal. The hunter success rate fell to 23%, down nine points from 2022. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Why? Well, it wasn’t due to too few hunters. The DNR issued 12,760 bear kill permits for the season, third-highest in history. Instead, blame a bumper crop of acorns statewide. Nearly all bear hunters hunt over bait, and if there’s abundant natural food like acorns available, the bears often choose that over bait. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wdntD4CAsZNGvINXQbP6hZXaR9kHBeC0XVHankHetqx2bzaC4JkqazflRN5YLvoCCuyxqJvohcPysX9tAndzp9oMrg1eocKFzTvhKjKJhARGjV23rXGvxPdsakAu13c-RRARMxvTlz2PN3aBMJEexhVuwLkjFZgDID8D50Xadj0raAJi1x2EDBS53s-a/s894/red%20oak%20acorns.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="894" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wdntD4CAsZNGvINXQbP6hZXaR9kHBeC0XVHankHetqx2bzaC4JkqazflRN5YLvoCCuyxqJvohcPysX9tAndzp9oMrg1eocKFzTvhKjKJhARGjV23rXGvxPdsakAu13c-RRARMxvTlz2PN3aBMJEexhVuwLkjFZgDID8D50Xadj0raAJi1x2EDBS53s-a/s320/red%20oak%20acorns.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A controversial practice, every year over four million gallons of bait are dropped in the woods to hunt black bears, most often donuts, gummy bears, and cereal. A 2017 study in the Journal of Wildlife Management (“Consumption of intentional food subsidies by a hunted carnivore,” Rebecca Kirby, David M. Macfarland, Jonathan N. Pauli) estimated that over 40% of a black bear’s diet now comes from bait loaded with sugary, white flour foods.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">So, while the some may lament the low hunt success this fall, I’m wondering if we should be celebrating the bears actually eating what nature intended them to eat.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Christmas Books<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">Here are some suggestions on natural history books that you might consider giving as Christmas presents:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><i><span style="background: repeat white;">Taking Flight: A History of Birds and People in the Heart of America</span></i><span style="background: repeat white;"> – Michael Edmonds<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><i><span style="background: repeat white;">White Pine: The Natural and Human History of a Foundational American Tree</span></i><span style="background: repeat white;"> – John Pastor<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><i><span style="background: repeat white;">The Bird Way: A New Look at How Birds Talk, Work, Play, Parent, and Think</span></i><span style="background: repeat white;"> – Jennifer Ackerman<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">And though this book has been out for many years now, it continues on many best seller lists: <i>Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants</i> – Robin Wall Kimmerer<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Celestial Events <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">The big news, of course, is that winter solstice is two weeks away, occurring 12/21. The sun will be the furthest south of the equator, so we’ll have our year’s southernmost sunset. The sun will also be at its lowest altitude above the horizon – about 21 degrees.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">And we’ll have our shortest day – 8 hours and 39 minutes (which also means our longest night – 15 hours and 21 minutes). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Between now and then, our year’s earliest sunsets actually occur from 12/9 to 12/12 at 4:13 p.m. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The new moon takes place on 12/12. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The peak Geminid meteor shower, an event averaging 50 to 100 meteors per hour, occurs in the predawn of 12/14.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Look after dusk on 12/17 for Saturn a couple degrees above the waxing crescent moon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“How, in our modern world, can we find our way to understand the earth as a gift again, to make our relations with the world sacred again?” – Robin Wall Kimmerer<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-23768413727322842482023-11-19T13:05:00.000-08:002023-11-19T13:07:43.768-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for 11/24 – 12/7/23 <p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for 11/24 – 12/7/23</span></b><span style="background: repeat white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Sightings – Common Mergansers, Wooly Bear Caterpillars, White Birch Seeds, Cougars<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">On 11/15, I was driving by Little Horsehead Lake in Presque Isle when I noticed a large flock of waterfowl lounging on the lake. I stopped, peered through my binoculars, and counted 72 common mergansers! Often the last waterfowl migrant to move south in fall and first to return north in spring, common mergansers may winter as far north as open water permits in the Great Lakes region. Their migration peaks in November and runs all the way into late December. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2FL4LhSh6kuKNj0eUUHQzsOFih_zg_5wcuy67CGMIkFdrtQtkHrqXoQBFLOWxoE2fctyg-LFKPxq-SnJIKoPzmpzEDI9lavWvDBQevzCoErmDS4GVf19FVa4mC0KWuJpiCb7Z6F4fR61ERVneZ0jm8PbOHXv4dM0ZktwxzkJ5EARFmXuMtZbgp54boQW/s954/Common%20mergansers%20by%20Wil%20Conway%20copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="954" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2FL4LhSh6kuKNj0eUUHQzsOFih_zg_5wcuy67CGMIkFdrtQtkHrqXoQBFLOWxoE2fctyg-LFKPxq-SnJIKoPzmpzEDI9lavWvDBQevzCoErmDS4GVf19FVa4mC0KWuJpiCb7Z6F4fR61ERVneZ0jm8PbOHXv4dM0ZktwxzkJ5EARFmXuMtZbgp54boQW/w400-h289/Common%20mergansers%20by%20Wil%20Conway%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">common mergansers, photo by Will Conway</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">I’m still wondering why so many were gathered together on Little Horsehead, a relatively small lake at 56 acres, but one known for an abundance and diversity of fish. Perhaps the mergansers were feeding, or perhaps just resting. Common mergansers across North America </span>reportedly eat at least 50 species of fish, generally foraging on whatever is most abundant and suitably sized. <span style="background: repeat white;">During the breeding season, they also eat an array of invertebrates including caddis flies, mayflies, backswimmers, flies, water striders, dragonflies, crane flies, beetles, freshwater sponge, spiders, caterpillars, snails, and mussels. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">When our lakes finally ice-up, they’ll have no choice but to move south. Average ice-up occurs on 37-acre Foster Lake in Hazelhurst now around 11/27. This is according to 47 years of data collected by Woody Hagge. But Woody notes that there have been wild swings in ice-up dates over the last 20 years. And in 2015, Foster froze November 28, reopened sixteen days later on December 14, and refroze on December 28. So, how does one adjust figures for that scenario? These days, predicting ice-up is anybody’s guess.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglps8EQ3nLdxdR_2d2bFJZRt34CclhrAa6cPHaKX-GSAFZLUHSsu8pAivW8ISjHmglBugY6t2l_7ROGOP9wMK9c-tycRCljSdwZgPpnb-eUHwxcBmXY16AwqBFD4ogvQldm_OyH70NA4d_VLYD0wQCR0DxpsiXxte99BmazbYEXfGixbGnGaJlcRND3w51/s2716/common%20merganser%20range%20map,%20orange%20is%20the%20breeding%20range,%20blue%20is%20the%20wintering%20range,%20purple%20is%20where%20they%20overlap.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1380" data-original-width="2716" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglps8EQ3nLdxdR_2d2bFJZRt34CclhrAa6cPHaKX-GSAFZLUHSsu8pAivW8ISjHmglBugY6t2l_7ROGOP9wMK9c-tycRCljSdwZgPpnb-eUHwxcBmXY16AwqBFD4ogvQldm_OyH70NA4d_VLYD0wQCR0DxpsiXxte99BmazbYEXfGixbGnGaJlcRND3w51/w640-h326/common%20merganser%20range%20map,%20orange%20is%20the%20breeding%20range,%20blue%20is%20the%20wintering%20range,%20purple%20is%20where%20they%20overlap.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">common merganser distribution map</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Given our recent mid-November warm weather, a few wooly bear caterpillars (aka “woolyworms”) were still being seen. Folklore has it that they can forecast the severity of the upcoming winter – if their rusty bands are wide, it will be a mild winter. But the more black there is on the 13 brown and black segments of their body, the more severe the winter. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">For over forty years, Banner Elk, North Carolina, has held an annual Woolly Worm Festival in October, whereupon retired mayor Charles Von Canon inspects the champion woolly bear and announces his winter forecast. Similarly, there is a Woollybear Festival that takes place in Vermilion, Ohio, each October. This year, 100,000 people attended it!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Well, whether our winter becomes severe or mild, one thing is for sure – they'll all be frozen solid under leaf litter anyway. In the spring, these caterpillars will thaw out, pupate within cocoons and emerge as gorgeous adult Isabella tiger moths.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggMsUgdIozzCcDDVJqZbk-HFHpABRh0bM7vumGwrWytMYcfVT8VPE7P2wagGXAjo8dBIWZ7DqJ7InbF0zJAJmQLL1OWQMJC5E-sbU1VwuCsjXqxM7_rX1OXRs46wbj-V2Fk40M5DN9rJThpcU3cHwD4SQyp6G7jrvxBaMYO1vQi2I46j9jUb4eMcAGCqiJ/s514/Wolly%20Bear%20Caterpillar,%20contributed%20photo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="377" data-original-width="514" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggMsUgdIozzCcDDVJqZbk-HFHpABRh0bM7vumGwrWytMYcfVT8VPE7P2wagGXAjo8dBIWZ7DqJ7InbF0zJAJmQLL1OWQMJC5E-sbU1VwuCsjXqxM7_rX1OXRs46wbj-V2Fk40M5DN9rJThpcU3cHwD4SQyp6G7jrvxBaMYO1vQi2I46j9jUb4eMcAGCqiJ/w400-h294/Wolly%20Bear%20Caterpillar,%20contributed%20photo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Mary and I have noticed extensive catkins (they look a bit like “cones”) of white birch seeds on local white birch trees, which is good news for wintering songbirds like pine siskins, American goldfinch, and common redpolls. The mature female catkins hold tiny winged nutlets attached to three-lobed bracts. Mary Holland, an excellent naturalist from New England, writes, “The [bracts] of white birch look somewhat like soaring birds.” Look for them on snow-covered trails this winter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe5tdA2bj5yHpcnkmz4XdcG3vGJ7rUxAi_NU5rnsjIOi6ZEQNyDkR2s0GPIbUU0Tm4Zgmz-rgTs2FCza4xXwRAiLAAMNKxWSLy2r741bEK44d6MKkeRYZ87eUzb6RP9gwv5D2XrJPLizZ7mAzA_CP2kuM7vliSVUG4jZtxA3TOLQS3UAy3F5fhNwFCrnu7/s4000/white%20birch%20leaves,%20catkins%20and%20seeds,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe5tdA2bj5yHpcnkmz4XdcG3vGJ7rUxAi_NU5rnsjIOi6ZEQNyDkR2s0GPIbUU0Tm4Zgmz-rgTs2FCza4xXwRAiLAAMNKxWSLy2r741bEK44d6MKkeRYZ87eUzb6RP9gwv5D2XrJPLizZ7mAzA_CP2kuM7vliSVUG4jZtxA3TOLQS3UAy3F5fhNwFCrnu7/w400-h300/white%20birch%20leaves,%20catkins%20and%20seeds,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A bowhunter killed a cougar Nov. 11 on private property in Buffalo County, according to the WDNR. Cougar sightings, though still rare, are no longer extremely rare. There have been 25 verified cougar reports in Wisconsin in 2023, according to the DNR. Importantly, however, of the more than 100 verified cougar reports in the state in recent years, none have resulted in a risk to human safety or the use of lethal force against the animal, at least until now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">There’s still no clear evidence cougars are breeding in Wisconsin. Most cougars spotted in Wisconsin have dispersed from out west and are young males apparently on a walk-about.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Latest NOAA Climate Report </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The Fifth National Climate Assessment, 2200 pages long, was issued on Nov. 14, a product of more than 750 experts evaluating thousands of studies over the last five years. Federal agencies have produced these assessments twice a decade or so since 2000, as mandated by a 1990 law.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Let’s start with the good news. Our country’s annual greenhouse gas emissions fell 12% between 2005 and 2019. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">This trend was largely driven by changes in electricity generation: coal use has declined, while the use of natural gas and renewable technologies has increased, leading to a 40% drop in emissions from the electricity sector. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">Eighty percent of new electricity generation capacity came from renewable sources in 2020. Further, the costs associated with wind and solar energy plummeted by 70% and 90%, respectively, over the past decade. Onshore wind and solar are now the cheapest source for building new power plants, costing less than gas, geothermal, coal, or nuclear.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">Interestingly, since 2017, the transportation sector has overtaken electricity generation as the largest emitter of carbon dioxide. Emissions from transportation rose by nearly 25 percent between 1990 and 2018, even as vehicles became more energy efficient. The reason? Americans are driving more.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The report points out that cost-effective tools and technologies exist right now to significantly reduce America’s contribution to global warming. No need to wait, and many people are appropriately responding. Around two in five states, as well as 90 percent of U.S.-based companies, have assessed their climate risks. Eighteen states have climate adaptation plans; another six are working on theirs. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">But, while the emissions decline is good news, the report finds US planet-warming emissions still need to more sharply decline to be in line with the international goal of keeping temperatures from increasing above 1.5-degree Celsius, a threshold beyond which scientists warn life on Earth will struggle to cope. To put that cut into perspective, US emissions decreased by less than 1% per year between 2005 and 2019 – a tiny annual drop. We need to to ramp it up to 6% annually. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">Why? Since 1970, the Lower 48 states have warmed by 2.5 degrees (1.4 degrees Celsius) while Alaska has heated up by 4.2 degrees (2.3 degrees Celsius), compared to the global average of 1.7 degrees (0.9 degrees Celsius). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">But what people really feel is not the averages, but when weather is extreme. The number and severity of storms are getting worse. As of October 10, there have been 24 weather and climate disasters<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><a href="https://www.cnn.com/2023/09/11/us/billion-dollar-weather-climate-disasters-noaa/index.html" style="color: #954f72;"><span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">with losses exceeding $1 billion in the United States this year</span></a>. <span style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">By comparison, between 1980 and 2022, the typical annual average for events like this was eight. For the most recent five years, the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>annual average has been 18 events.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">There is no place immune from climate change, but some states – including California, Florida, Louisiana and Texas – are facing far more significant storms and extreme swings in precipitation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Whether or not individuals accept that climate change has huge financial costs, the insurance industry sure has. Climate risks have hit the housing market in the form of skyrocketing homeowners’ insurance rates. Some insurers have pulled out of high-risk states altogether. The largest homeowner insurance company in California, State Farm, announced recently that it would stop selling coverage to homeowners everywhere in the state. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">In parts of eastern Kentucky ravaged by storms last summer, the price of flood insurance is set to quadruple. In Louisiana, the top insurance official says the market is in crisis, and is offering millions of dollars in subsidies to try to draw insurers to the state.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">And in much of Florida, most big insurers have pulled out of the state already. Earlier this month, the insurance arm of AAA announced it would not renew some “higher exposure” home insurance policies in Florida, and Farmers Insurance announced it will stop offering new home insurance policies in the state and won't renew thousands of existing ones, in part because of rising losses from hurricanes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Florida established a complicated system years ago in response to soaring insurance prices: a market based on small insurance companies, backed up by Citizens Property Insurance Corporation, a state-funded company, that would provide windstorm coverage for homeowners who couldn’t find private insurance. Citizens is now the state’s largest insurance provider! But Citizens won’t cover homes with a replacement cost of more than $700,000, or $1 million in Miami-Dade County and the Florida Keys.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Insurance costs are hitting the middle class hardest. An insurance company deciding not to renew coverage against risks like fires and flooding can instantly devalue a property. A Florida homeowner who is dropped by an insurer could see the property's value decline 19% to 40%. You also can’t get a mortgage if you can’t get house insurance. And families who don't have adequate home insurance struggle terribly after disasters.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hC4qXwEDwIu6T-hbdOzo5yCi_ZSge9F_A69rclvF7z0VCeruqwcxvoWRpQROm1oJOUWX__Z9XN6zRW_hSIJNcrKdZ0GUT9kk4V7Nb2BvcvfJU-7k3cBTk5pjYFsiIBpCgzYbs0h9HdWDoKWbj0pKwfXwHe_2OU-pjBxX2qURgnSxbBDHil3sQftmUIm7/s1250/Homeowners-Insurance-Final.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="698" data-original-width="1250" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hC4qXwEDwIu6T-hbdOzo5yCi_ZSge9F_A69rclvF7z0VCeruqwcxvoWRpQROm1oJOUWX__Z9XN6zRW_hSIJNcrKdZ0GUT9kk4V7Nb2BvcvfJU-7k3cBTk5pjYFsiIBpCgzYbs0h9HdWDoKWbj0pKwfXwHe_2OU-pjBxX2qURgnSxbBDHil3sQftmUIm7/w640-h358/Homeowners-Insurance-Final.png" width="640" /></a></div><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The federal government created the National Flood Insurance Program in 1968, and it now provides the vast majority of residential flood insurance in the U.S. The program is backed by taxpayer dollars, but it is chronically in debt and is increasingly unaffordable for homeowners because it wasn't designed for the enormous climate risk that the U.S. now faces. The average price of home insurance has risen by 21% nationwide since 2015. In Texas and Colorado, the average cost of home insurance has risen about 40% since 2015. In Florida, the statewide average is 57% higher. And in some of the hardest-hit areas, premiums have doubled or even tripled in the wake of major storms and fires.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The problem, as insurance companies see it, is that they can't charge enough to cover their bills after these major disasters. Says one insurance analyst, the United States is "marching steadily towards an uninsurable future.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The report concludes that Americans’ efforts climate change initiatives have mostly been “incremental” instead of “transformative.” The best possible future will emerge only if our nation, along with all other nations, work collectively to confront this enormous challenge.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">It’s dark every morning now when most of us get up, but brilliant Venus is always there to greet us in the southeast.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> And it’s also dark when most folks are coming home from work, so look after dusk for Jupiter high in the southeast and Saturn in the south.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The full moon occurs on 10/27 – the “Beaver” or “Ice is Forming” or “Snow” moon depending on your tradition.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> By 11/29, we’re now down to less than 9 hours of sunlight<b> </b>with winter solstice only a little over 3 weeks away.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“As we grow old, the beauty steals inward.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: black; text-decoration: none;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;">. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-2173847476615418112023-11-11T07:55:00.004-08:002023-11-11T07:56:20.551-08:00A Northwoods Almanac for Nov. 10-23, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for Nov. 10-23, 2023</span></b><span style="background: repeat white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Science Research in the Northwoods – Rusty Crayfish, Eurasian Watermilfoil, Wild Rice</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> I suspect most of us are unaware of the remarkably diverse array of scientific research that is ongoing in our area. To get a sense of it all, I attended a two-day conference in mid-October, “Science in the Northwoods,” at Kemp Natural Resources Station. The conference is typically held every other year, and its format is quite unusual – each speaker is only given 5 minutes to summarize their research! These are called “lightning talks” for good reason, and it’s a tall task for most of the researchers to encapsulate what is often several years of work into such a tiny window of time.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Fifty-three researchers presented to an engaged audience on topics ranging widely from the disturbing decline of wild rice to the encouraging decline in rusty crayfish; to synchronistic reproduction in conifers to the dynamics of pre-historic white pine sunken logs in lake zones; to weather factors on mating mice to wolf predation on CWD-infected deer; to long-term ecological research on our northern lakes to short-term fluctuations in zooplankton in those lakes.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> It was truly a potpourri of topics, and if one talk didn’t trip your trigger, you only had to wait 5 minutes for another presentation that probably would. Here are three talks that stood out for me.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Invasive rusty crayfish first appeared in Wisconsin lakes in the 1970s and soon exploded in population. They denuded submersed aquatic vegetation, clearcutting plants rooted in the sediments, which in turn impacted fish populations. However, today, rusty crayfish are declining in many lakes in our area, and their decline is intensifying. In a 36-year study on 10 Vilas County lakes, many of those ten lakes have seen steady declines, with a handful of lakes falling to nearly zero. For instance, in Little John Lake (south of Boulder Junction), researchers only found two rusty crayfish in the whole lake. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4GDZhBAUPV6lU8dbV-sL9IDJVX5uexrPPEburE33Bks-vw_NVZTpqe6N9b0BNMrPgzb5Vr0Wq1as2m_9bxwCEmKGQCEZqFHgsktapfHsUFZU1vW2V9AfrhuS3S0Ex0140ZTW38Of7ixdIpmODiQRWQbbDiIymZ73UCI_uBuzhc4gBUvQ54Glv5wymm-y2/s500/rusty%20crayfish%20distributionMap.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="500" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4GDZhBAUPV6lU8dbV-sL9IDJVX5uexrPPEburE33Bks-vw_NVZTpqe6N9b0BNMrPgzb5Vr0Wq1as2m_9bxwCEmKGQCEZqFHgsktapfHsUFZU1vW2V9AfrhuS3S0Ex0140ZTW38Of7ixdIpmODiQRWQbbDiIymZ73UCI_uBuzhc4gBUvQ54Glv5wymm-y2/w400-h301/rusty%20crayfish%20distributionMap.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rusty crayfish distribution</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Remarkably, the declines have occurred with no intervention by humans. </span><span style="background: repeat white;">Researchers have linked the declines in part to a fungal disease or to crayfish destroying their own habitat, but whatever the reasons, the bottom line is that native plants, snails and bluegill have recovered, helping restore the ecosystems in several lakes.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The question has now arisen if this is just a bust in a natural cycle – will the crayfish just boom again? Or will another invasive species come in to fill the empty niche? More importantly, perhaps, are there lessons here? Is our best management strategy for rusty crayfish to do nothing?</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Another remarkable story involves Eurasian watermilfoil (EWM), which was first found in Wisconsin lakes in the 1960s. A study of over 1,113 lakes found EWM in over 700 lakes statewide, but in most lakes, it’s not abundant. Moreover, EWM populations have been found to vary over time. They may decrease over time, increase over time, or maintain a constant low level, and there’s typically substantial year-to-year variation. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A more specific long-term EWM study on 12 lakes found that EWM is naturally declining on 10 of those lakes. Researchers also found that lake-wide herbicide treatments aimed at controlling EWM had a larger negative effect on native aquatic plants than the effects observed in lakes which did not actively manage EWM. Thus, in many cases, the cure was worse than the disease.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Bottom line: EWM populations are complex! Management can and should vary, or the best management may be no management at all – should we be letting EWM run its course? </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Lastly, a study continues on Spur Lake, a 113-acre muck-bottomed, soft-water drainage lake in Oneida County which once was a very important wild rice lake – Native Americans used this area for centuries. The lake and surrounding wetlands also provide habitat for black ducks, ring-necked ducks, osprey, and common loons, as well as migratory waterfowl.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">By the 1990s, the rice began disappearing, and today the lake supports dense beds of emergent, submergent, and floating-leaved aquatic plants, but very little rice.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> It’s unclear exactly why the lake lost its rice and was overtaken by other aquatic plants, though possible causes include long-term high water, stable water levels (wild rice prefers some variation in water depths over time), reduced flows in and out of the lake, warmer air and water temperatures, and heavy precipitation events.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A restoration experiment has been underway on the lake to try and get the rice back to its historical robust abundance. Researchers have taken four areas of the lake and divided each one into four plots. On one plot, they have cut the aquatic plants and are seeding in the rice. On another, they are only cutting the aquatic plants. On another they have only seeded the plot. And on the fourth, they’ve left plot alone as a control.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuUuS_9UGn96LS3YnZasXNibKLcQxo3j9Bhp84Z7jPmz9qn2SkBiQGdyzCaKHwzuQOiimwXyMY7UFDQ38_k8MYmgGXCLfMQJD8US4YOyN6_Y73zfLsnXQ_kQ8_Oo3DN7wLvJLua5RiO6l8iqUIFGganIQ1w7rhgCruwYxrJnkBF1TMWTdzfYbuv4z5UkBe/s1756/Spur%20Lake%20Natural%20Communities.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1756" data-original-width="1360" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuUuS_9UGn96LS3YnZasXNibKLcQxo3j9Bhp84Z7jPmz9qn2SkBiQGdyzCaKHwzuQOiimwXyMY7UFDQ38_k8MYmgGXCLfMQJD8US4YOyN6_Y73zfLsnXQ_kQ8_Oo3DN7wLvJLua5RiO6l8iqUIFGganIQ1w7rhgCruwYxrJnkBF1TMWTdzfYbuv4z5UkBe/w496-h640/Spur%20Lake%20Natural%20Communities.png" width="496" /></a></div><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">It's an unfinished story. Stay tuned.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Winter Finch Forecast!</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Those of us who feed birds eagerly await the “Winter Finch Forecast,” which originates from Ontario, Canada, and has been arriving in our emails every October since 1999. Ron Pittaway, who lived in Algonquin Park in Ontario, began the forecast, making it his mission to offer predictability to winter finch sightings by compiling data from a network of naturalists across Canada and the U.S. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Pittaway made the connection between the summer cone crops of cedars, spruces, and pines, and the abundance – or scarcity – of siskins, crossbills, and grosbeaks in the winter. “When the conifer trees have bumper [crops] and the cones open, the birds just need to reach into them and pull the seeds out. There’s food everywhere . . . and the birds stay north,” said Pittaway. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Eastern white pine, for example, produces a bumper crop every three to five years, but rarely has two good years in a row. Eastern hemlock, on the other hand, furnishes a good crop every couple of years. Because of the astonishing synchronicity of trees over long distances, the quality of the crop is usually stretched out over hundreds or even thousands of miles of forest, forcing the birds to travel long distances in response to the boom–bust cycle of their specific wintering food.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Weather conditions factor in as well. If there’s a drought, or a frost in June, or any other disruption that interferes with seed production, the seed crops fall below normal, and tens of thousands of finches flee the boreal forest and move south into the U.S. to search for food. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The hard part is knowing which seed crops throughout all of Canada are in a boom or bust year in any given fall. But now dozens of scientists across North America send in their data, and the forecast is usually quite accurate based on the analysis of their combined seed observations.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOggjf07NeYr_wRJFDVvSwBGWdnJ6a_lI_qy3bRVizQnd4dl32jzFsxrKSR0PWtLLVuKQC2OrBS_-BogOzjgey2fIryBKPeKCgNgQCap3getRuzu5EBHnh8brq5Q6wr26kFuuV8zrgpp_EW-CSPn0OuAQ8NQO1fcmqKa4nXg5Xs3Wbh5kbaupqlAuHVGNZ/s1566/Primary%20Drivers%20of%20WinterFinch%20Irruptions.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1566" data-original-width="1219" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOggjf07NeYr_wRJFDVvSwBGWdnJ6a_lI_qy3bRVizQnd4dl32jzFsxrKSR0PWtLLVuKQC2OrBS_-BogOzjgey2fIryBKPeKCgNgQCap3getRuzu5EBHnh8brq5Q6wr26kFuuV8zrgpp_EW-CSPn0OuAQ8NQO1fcmqKa4nXg5Xs3Wbh5kbaupqlAuHVGNZ/w498-h640/Primary%20Drivers%20of%20WinterFinch%20Irruptions.jpeg" width="498" /></a></div><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The biggest finch story so far this year is the movement of pine siskins south out of the boreal forest dur to a poor white spruce cone crop. Migration monitoring stations at Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory in Duluth, Whitefish Point Bird Observatory in the UP of Michigan, and Observatoire d’oiseaux de Tadoussac, Quebec, combined as of October 21 for over 115,000 pine siskins counted. Peak days included 19,260 on October 21 at Whitefish Point! So far at Whitefish Point, almost 50,000 pine siskins have moved through, comprising nearly 41% of all the birds to have migrated through Whitefish Point this fall. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">At Hawk Ridge in Duluth this fall, 10,311 pine siskins migrated over the ridge, certainly less than Whitefish Point, but still a very large number.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Bottom line on pine siskins – it should be a banner year with “armies” of them eventually around our feeders.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEBcqRkn3sH9wkKEXK_JRIp2g81HXM8glo2UZvgZGfA76CSEx6UpEltjO6KkfOlH4fkPyHS5G_F2Wl7wA-GkbC8rpxGrfbkzS96SasUIhISCuCeOPBOIVeaT7DfiJq-sRFWQ1svS6RLRCLPSszJSLKw2NWW7UyTo1izE53KwGXm0rHtgYboEICecmFKh1/s864/pine%20siskin%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="864" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEBcqRkn3sH9wkKEXK_JRIp2g81HXM8glo2UZvgZGfA76CSEx6UpEltjO6KkfOlH4fkPyHS5G_F2Wl7wA-GkbC8rpxGrfbkzS96SasUIhISCuCeOPBOIVeaT7DfiJq-sRFWQ1svS6RLRCLPSszJSLKw2NWW7UyTo1izE53KwGXm0rHtgYboEICecmFKh1/w400-h266/pine%20siskin%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pine siskin, photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The purple finch movement has continued to be strong in the Midwest States. Northeast of Duluth on Lake Superior, an impressive 3,750 passed by Stoney Point MN on October 2nd. Individuals have already reached as far south as North Carolina, Tennessee, and Arkansas.</span> <span style="background: repeat white;">Don’t be surprised if, as winter progresses, a late movement in January-February occurs into the Carolinas as eastern crops are depleted.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">As for red crossbills (there are 10 “types” of red crossbills based on their calls), “Type 2 and 4 continue to occur in the northeast in their best numbers in years, even decades for type 4. Check areas with bumper eastern white pine cone crops for crossbills this winter.” </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">For pine grosbeaks, there is a widespread crop of mountain ash berries from Lake Superior eastward. So, most pine grosbeaks should remain “home” in the eastern boreal forest. However, west of Lake Superior, the mountain ash crop generally appears below average. Thus, areas in the upper Midwest states and cities in Western Canada may see flocks of hungry grosbeaks searching for fruiting ornamental trees and well-stocked feeders with black oil sunflower seeds.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Common redpoll numbers should be modest, says the forecast. “Across the whole boreal forest, a good alder crop has been reported. However, in the same areas, the spruce and birch crops are poor to below average. Expect a moderate flight south out of the boreal forest.”</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Evening grosbeaks have declined 92% since 1970, but we had a bumper year of them last winter, the first such winter in nearly 30 years! For this winter, however, things don’t look as bright. The finch forecast says, “Eastward from Lake Superior is a bumper crop of chokecherries, and above-average berry and deciduous seed crop . . Expect most birds to remain in the boreal forest and adjacent areas of Central Ontario Southern Quebec, the Maritime provinces, and New England states.”</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">However, it adds, “Evening grosbeaks in northwestern Ontario westward should move out of the boreal forest, looking for feeders in towns or suitable food sources further south.” So, we may get some dropping down our way from those in NW Ontario – we’ll see!</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Finally, for bohemian waxwings, perhaps the most beautiful of all our winter visitors, “Most Bohemians will likely stay in the north because native mountain ash berry crops are good, and other berry crops range from fair to good across the eastern boreal forest.”</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">More on Wake Boats and Proposed Legislation</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Lakes at Stake Wisconsin (LASW) is a Wisconsin based organization concerned about the outsized impacts of wake sports on our inland lakes (</span><a href="https://www.lakesatstake.org/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white;">https://www.lakesatstake.org</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;">). On October 19, 2023, a bill (LRB 3518/1) was introduced into the Wisconsin legislature that would prevent wake sports from operating within 200 feet from shore, which is still far too close – it needs to be 500 feet from shore. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">This bill doesn’t go far enough to protect our lakeshores, our lake sediments and aquatic plants, and our lake water quality. Check their website for further information.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Celestial Events</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">Look for the peak North Taurid meteor shower before dawn on 11/12. This is a modest event – expect around 10 meteors per hour.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The new moon appears on 11/13. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">The peak Leonid meteor shower occurs before dawn on 11/18 – look for an average of 15 per hour.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Thought for the Week</span></b><span style="background: repeat white;"></span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“The open fire is a thing of beauty, and as profligate, in its small way, as the coloring of the leaves. But there it is, and we cherish it and dream peaceful drama in its glow. The acrid</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">fragrance of its spiraling smoke is an evening symbol of home and hearthside. Its outdoor</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">counterpart is the curb fire of fallen leaves. But when . . . the maples have shivered in the frost and wind and bare branches lift against the stars . . . for another season, the bright flame of the woodland leaps and gladdens only on the hearth.” – Hal Borland, <i>Sundial of the Seasons</i></span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;">. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-42570457327910863902023-10-24T13:41:00.001-07:002023-10-24T13:41:07.558-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for October 27 – November 9 , 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for October 27 – November 9 , 2023</span></b><span style="background: repeat white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Sightings: Common Mergansers, Snow Buntings, White-crowned Sparrows, Dark-eyed Juncos, American Robins, Blackbirds, Golden Tamaracks</span></b><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Sondra Katzen shared some photos of nearly two dozen migrating common mergansers enjoying a stopover on Oxbow Lake in Presque Isle in mid-October. Migrating waterfowl numbers peak in late October to mid- November as they head south.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_e0-dpqmr_mSdjwYCNRu1frQTpZMJF86AKX5JjeROu0a9Vm6sacthjlv-HFTJDQtV0Z6xb8yHqVfhuESYdiaAt4hC9JDFOkmeVI59XPlUPcNQGEOGwUTNhgQ0hrNAHrZksn53gTPPB64Gv9fuMD3NbkP03pw8XuGNSQCq4ghN9hvG7_DUb1wfwAfGi0e/s704/Common%20mergansers%20photo%20by%20Sondra%20Katzen.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="704" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_e0-dpqmr_mSdjwYCNRu1frQTpZMJF86AKX5JjeROu0a9Vm6sacthjlv-HFTJDQtV0Z6xb8yHqVfhuESYdiaAt4hC9JDFOkmeVI59XPlUPcNQGEOGwUTNhgQ0hrNAHrZksn53gTPPB64Gv9fuMD3NbkP03pw8XuGNSQCq4ghN9hvG7_DUb1wfwAfGi0e/w400-h259/Common%20mergansers%20photo%20by%20Sondra%20Katzen.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Sondra Katzan</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">On 10/16 while out on Powell Marsh, Mary and I saw our first flock of snow buntings on their southward migration. Keep an eye out along roadsides for a flock of birds that are distinctive for their black and white markings in flight – no other small birds has such big white wing patches.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> As of 10/20, white-crowned sparrows and dark-eyed juncos continue as the most numerous species appearing at our sunflower seed feeders. White-crowned sparrows most commonly nest at or near the tree line in the far reaches of Canada and Alaska, so they’ve already made a long flight by the time they reach our feeders.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99tTLvSCewHO5Opee8wrhBg3I64mqelEbjZArNd0uSxvHl5dgc4tESIDhsgBBWcSc9Z0rNQPqLIAWDfWFUZIldFlg_29ziLhljzZM1FBUD-BA7lu3F1QTsoe8vEX-NGIomlQD5V4Tvo3Xfan8MvliVF_aOIP9m2651ffaxn_FtUwQRjws_urR-459bd9m/s1082/junco%20photo%20b%20y%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99tTLvSCewHO5Opee8wrhBg3I64mqelEbjZArNd0uSxvHl5dgc4tESIDhsgBBWcSc9Z0rNQPqLIAWDfWFUZIldFlg_29ziLhljzZM1FBUD-BA7lu3F1QTsoe8vEX-NGIomlQD5V4Tvo3Xfan8MvliVF_aOIP9m2651ffaxn_FtUwQRjws_urR-459bd9m/w399-h400/junco%20photo%20b%20y%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="399" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dark-eyed junco photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Robins have found their way to our property, too late to eat all of our mountain ash berries – the cedar waxwings beat them to those – but chowing down now on our crabapple crop. Hopefully, they’ll move on soon, leaving a good portion of the crabapples for the pine grosbeaks and bohemian waxwings we hope to attract to our yard this winter.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> And finally in bird news, large mixed flocks of blackbirds– starlings, grackles, red-winged blackbirds, and rusty blackbirds – are wheeling their way through our area as they head south, too.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">In the plant world, tamaracks are at peak smoky gold as of 10/20, and will soon be dropping their needles. <i>Tamarack</i> is an Algonquin word for “wood used for snowshoes.” The wood is flexible yet tough, and lent itself well to this use in northern regions where ash, another wood commonly used for snowshoe making, wasn’t readily available.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Mary’s grandfather, John Nutter, whose home we live in now in Manitowish, logged in this area in the 1920s, and talked of cutting loads of tamarack for shoring up mines in the U.P. The flexible wood could give a little without breaking when the mine soils shifted.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Leopold’s “The Last Stand” – The Porcupine Mountains</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">Mary and I recently hiked and camped for three days in the Sylvania<b> </b>Wilderness Area and the following week for another three days in the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. These are the two best sites left in all of the Upper Midwest for old-growth upland forest, and for tree nerds like us, they offer a bit of heaven.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdsaB-CpTz170CvSXSxaZP4CN3QSNR1IOQdO78dV99tE0cos9kJzgMvNMkJEnYJ988WsUFE6lncpfOlyZVKHGZTQuVdKLx5ofBwyAR0PvFcSnxSlFC-wFnGfXdGNIQ99ZrDrmIWWvXQagyjkLEnaFB3QCFHE202QmsSCDksqatCcbULWZef-_u3CLgL5k/s2512/44%22%20dbh%20eastern%20hemlock%20Porkies%2010:12:23.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2512" data-original-width="1884" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdsaB-CpTz170CvSXSxaZP4CN3QSNR1IOQdO78dV99tE0cos9kJzgMvNMkJEnYJ988WsUFE6lncpfOlyZVKHGZTQuVdKLx5ofBwyAR0PvFcSnxSlFC-wFnGfXdGNIQ99ZrDrmIWWvXQagyjkLEnaFB3QCFHE202QmsSCDksqatCcbULWZef-_u3CLgL5k/w300-h400/44%22%20dbh%20eastern%20hemlock%20Porkies%2010:12:23.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">44" dbh eastern hemlock</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The “Porkies” contain 35,000 acres of remnant old-growth hemlock-hardwoods, by far the largest stand (Sylvania includes about 15,000 acres of remnant old-growth). For comparison, in Wisconsin, we don’t even have one square mile (640 acres) of remnant upland old-growth. So, that begs the question of how the Porkies got saved. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">It was a concerted effort by many people over a long period. </span>In the early 1920s, P.J. Hoffmaster, the first chief of state parks in Michigan, identified the Porcupine Mountains as a location for a possible state park. In 1928, a petition was then made for the area to become a national park, but the Great Depression stalled the talks, and the advent of World War II effectively halted park development across the nation. Fearing loss of the virgin forest, in 1940, Raymond Dick organized the “Save the Porcupine Mountains Association” to protect the property from commercial mining and logging, and to preserve it as a park. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">But with the beginning of World War II, immense pressure came to bear to cut the remaining forest to support the war effort. And here Aldo Leopold stepped in with an essay in 1942 he titled “The Last Stand.” He wrote, “Sometime in 1943 or 1944, an axe will bite into the snowy sapwood of a giant maple. On the other side of the same tree, a crosscut saw will talk softly, spewing sweet sawdust into the snow with each repetitious syllable. Then the giant will lean, groan, and crash to earth: the last merchantable tree of the last merchantable forty of the last virgin hardwood forest of any size in the Lake States. With this tree will fall the end of an epoch . . . <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“There will be and end of cathedral aisles to echo the hermit thrush, or to awe the intruder. There will be an end of hardwood wilderness large enough for a few day’s skiing or hiking without crossing a road. The forest primeval, in this region, will henceforward be a figure of speech . . . <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Finally, there will be an end of the best schoolroom for foresters to learn what remains to be learned about hardwood forestry: the mature hardwood forest. We know little, and we understand only part of what we know.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">His essay continues at length to extoll the many virtues of conserving this last large slice of pre-European forest, and apparently it played its part. In 1944, the Michigan State Park Division began the acquisition of an area in the Porcupine Mountains for its scenic value, public recreation and for the preservation of a part of the last remaining large stand of virgin hardwood-hemlock forest in Michigan. The Michigan Legislature then, in an extra session, appropriated $1 million dollars for the acquisition, and that same year, the state purchased 46,000 acres.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Today the Porkies are the largest of Michigan’s state parks, encompassing over 59,000 acres, of which 35,000 acres are old-growth. Most of the park is legally designated as a Wilderness Area and is recognized as a National Natural Landmark.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bMp8_O4Vz6TpX2Fj12cwvtGeQ5n4HYLs6804md3Zr7h9YVjlGPVrWLe4kefg-LWbxcuTHM-_UHmPLyWtjbkDq4f-7BYDXe9znAArklYx84v7kEg_6Wc8nc43m_bzpKhuTr2JE-oQQH-jT-fhjkcI3Z7LSEtUukC818stZbb9PvFrWS1hpM-wcVww4slE/s785/The%20Last%20Stand%20Aldo%20Leopold%201942%20page%20one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="785" data-original-width="612" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bMp8_O4Vz6TpX2Fj12cwvtGeQ5n4HYLs6804md3Zr7h9YVjlGPVrWLe4kefg-LWbxcuTHM-_UHmPLyWtjbkDq4f-7BYDXe9znAArklYx84v7kEg_6Wc8nc43m_bzpKhuTr2JE-oQQH-jT-fhjkcI3Z7LSEtUukC818stZbb9PvFrWS1hpM-wcVww4slE/w498-h640/The%20Last%20Stand%20Aldo%20Leopold%201942%20page%20one.jpg" width="498" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Try This Quiz</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">On 9/28, the Wisconsin Senate’s Committee on Financial Institutions and Sporting Heritage voted 3-2 to reject four of Gov. Tony Evers’ five Natural Resource Board nominees, apparently because they didn’t like their responses on wolf management. So, they fired them.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Why all the hullabaloo about wolves by the Senate? Is it a crisis like one committee member who said the nominees didn’t recognize “the devastation that wolves have done to people of the 29th district”?</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Well, the DNR had received 31 verified complaints of wolf depredations by the end of July this year, affecting 18 producers. The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel reported Wisconsin saw the lowest number of farms with wolf conflicts in 15 years. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">So, the math says something quite different.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Then on 10/17, the Senate advanced a bill to require the DNR to set a strict statewide population goal for wolves. This was done in response to the state’s proposed wolf management plan that seeks to maintain the state’s population level at a flexible goal of 800 to 1,200 wolves. It’s important to note that the plan refers to the numbers as a guidance rather than a fixed goal.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Why a flexible goal? And why have it be a guidance that could potentially allow additional flexibility? Simple. Conditions change from year to year, and any agency, or business for that matter, needs the ability to adapt their management to inevitable changes that may be larger than one can anticipate. Think Covid as an example of a human issue that required extraordinary adaptive measures.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Management rules and regs change every year for nearly every species of wildlife that is hunted or fished. This is normal. Expected. Rational. Why? Because populations go up and down based on changes in habitat, weather extremes, over or under harvesting, etc. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Back to the reputed “devastation.” A fellow writer recently put out a quiz for folks to test their knowledge on the actual impacts of various predators in our state – see how you do:</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Question 1: Rank bears, bobcats, coyotes, wolves and two-legged hunters by the deer they killed in the Northwoods during 2020.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Answer: Humans killed about 54,000 Northwoods deer that year; followed by coyotes, 36,000; bears, 27,000; bobcats, 22,800; and wolves, 18,000. In other words, wolves claimed 11.4% of that deer kill. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Question 2: Rank deer, elk, bears, turkeys, geese and wolves for their percentage of the appraised $1.5-plus million in agricultural property damage inflicted in Wisconsin in 2022. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Answer: Deer caused 71% of those damages, followed by bears, 10%; geese, 8%; elk, 4%; wolves, 4%; and turkeys, 3%. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Question 3: Which large predator caused the most nuisance complaints in Wisconsin during 2022?</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Answer: The DNR handled 872 complaints involving black bears last year, and it trapped and relocated 109 of them. The agency handled three “human safety/nuisance” complaints involving wolves. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Question 4: Which animal kills more North Americans, wolves or black bears?</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Answer: Since 1900, wolves have killed four people and black bears, 79. Two of the wolves were rabid. No wolf attack on a human has been confirmed in Wisconsin in modern history.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">Question 5: What do Wisconsinites in wolf range want for wolf numbers?</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Answer: A DNR sociological study in 2022 found more Northwoods support for wolves than against: 33% of wolf-range residents wanted the same wolf numbers as recent years, 27% wanted fewer, 22% wanted more or many more, </span><span style="background: repeat white; color: #303030;">12% said “I don't know”, and 7% wanted zero.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> So, to recap:</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Wolves are not the main predator of deer. It’s people, coyotes, bears, bobcats, then wolves.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Deer cause 71% of all the agricultural property damage in Wisconsin. Wolves 4%.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Black bears are by far the major source of human/nuisance complaints in WI.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Wolves are a very small concern for human safety.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Finally, most people in the Northwoods feel fine about their current population, and thus do not agree that wolves are “devastating” our life here in the North. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Celestial Events</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">The full moon, variously known as The Hunter’s Moon, the Changing Season Moon, or the Falling Leaves moon – occurs on 10/28.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">For planet-watching in November, look after dusk for Jupiter in the east and Saturn in the south-southeast. Before dawn, look for Venus brilliant in the southeast.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">On 11/5 look before dawn for the peak South Taurid Meteor Shower.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">November 7 marks the mid-point between autumn equinox and winter solstice.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Thought for the Week</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">“Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Every day, I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness.” – Søren Kierkegaard</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;">. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-34746756281923090012023-10-24T13:30:00.000-07:002023-10-24T13:30:20.936-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for October 13 – 26, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">A Northwoods Almanac for October 13 – 26, 2023 </b></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Lady Bugs!<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b>We had three very warm days at the beginning of October, and the lady bugs (aka Asian multicolored ladybeetles) responded in droves. I last wrote about them in 2015, but I also wrote about them in 1998, 2000, and 2001 when they were an occupying force that caught every ones’ attention.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">They came by the hundreds this time to our home, showing up all at once as if they had all read the same bus schedule. And in a manner of speaking, they did. If Asian lady beetles want everyone to get together, they don’t text; they simply emit aggregation pheromones, a chemical signal that is like a narcotic for them. The actual amount of pheromone that is emitted is astonishingly small – as little as a billionth of a gram. In response, the ladybugs typically gather in rock-concert-size crowds on the sides of houses that are exposed to full sun, find a crack to crawl in, and then go into a hibernation-like state called diapause. <b><span style="color: #262626;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeleruv5y1JyU_e721Rzx_5S6oj6KK4TKh2nwdrWyGogAmWMrYd4zMt5wI9CS7dfJPlBMWC2BO-wcL4qPlf41kaRXjiqJvmF3ncBNjG6GUS4XaufeRMXGmQIou0GOGYathI-QeKikKrC-M4oGyZ7OT2FJERd5bg7O2f9gC5LGR3_S0zk5FoMoQ2p3Bl13/s288/multicolored%20ladybeetle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="287" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeleruv5y1JyU_e721Rzx_5S6oj6KK4TKh2nwdrWyGogAmWMrYd4zMt5wI9CS7dfJPlBMWC2BO-wcL4qPlf41kaRXjiqJvmF3ncBNjG6GUS4XaufeRMXGmQIou0GOGYathI-QeKikKrC-M4oGyZ7OT2FJERd5bg7O2f9gC5LGR3_S0zk5FoMoQ2p3Bl13/w399-h400/multicolored%20ladybeetle.jpg" width="399" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">multicolored lady beetle</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Homes exposed to sun tend to warm up more during the day compared to those nestled in forest shade, a characteristic apparently well understood by the cold-blooded ladybugs. Our house has a perfect southern exposure across the wetlands bordering the Manitowish River, and thus is a great site for photovoltaic cells and wintering ladybugs.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">One would think that the birds would have a heyday cleaning-up on the ladybugs, but these beetles are toxic and generally unpalatable. Their bright coloration is thought to have evolved as a warning signal to be heeded by birds and other predators, but failing that, they offer an even more conspicuous warning. If a ladybug is threatened, it discharges a bitter, amber-colored fluid from its legs that is laced with astringent and odiferous chemicals. In winter, the collective odor of a bevy of lady bugs, whether in a house or under the leaves, serves as an ample warning to small mammals like shrews and voles that they need to go elsewhere for a digestible meal.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b>This species was imported from China and Japan by the USDA in the late 1970s to control pecan aphids in Louisiana. Apparently no one dreamed they would thrive as they have, because the insects were also released in Nova Scotia, Georgia, Mississippi, Ohio, Maryland, Connecticut, Delaware, Maine, Washington and Pennsylvania between 1978 and 1981. They arrived in Wisconsin in 1992.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> The good news, of course, is that ladybugs are beneficial in the summer. A single beetle eats thousands of aphids and other plant-damaging pests. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> In the fall, however, they become a nuisance, and the only way to defeat them is by caulking the bejeesus (that’s the technical term) out of your house before they arrive. Once inside, if you crush them, they will stain any fabrics and emit a bitter smell. So, you’re left with the only option of vacuuming them up and disposing of them quickly before they leave your vacuum with a foul odor.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Chukar!<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b>On 10/3,<b> </b>I was driving along Powell Rd. near Manitowish Waters when I saw a small grouse-like bird along the shoulder of the road. I glassed it through my binocs, and saw that it was a chukar, only the third one I’ve ever seen in the Northwoods. I inched the car forward and got within 15 feet of it. Unfortunately, all I had along to photograph it was my old iPhone6, so the photos turned out grainy. I’ve included one from a professional photographer instead, so you can see the unique coloration and patterning.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3j020T1Sa86jmimMm0Yh_MykLOKTi-8Ho7pT2VYgtHC7DR4zBRue88azf_IDdJA75q5B9e4FZ6l0K56WWjeH4gNX7q0SGFjupsW1F0CeVPyjEpbmb0KEc44YRXYqpz_TiJosNXBsP3la97wDTRxG9gnqe_f4OTOnCksiLe5_VkaqUjbaszCrx2ryoOB_/s1047/chukar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1047" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3j020T1Sa86jmimMm0Yh_MykLOKTi-8Ho7pT2VYgtHC7DR4zBRue88azf_IDdJA75q5B9e4FZ6l0K56WWjeH4gNX7q0SGFjupsW1F0CeVPyjEpbmb0KEc44YRXYqpz_TiJosNXBsP3la97wDTRxG9gnqe_f4OTOnCksiLe5_VkaqUjbaszCrx2ryoOB_/s320/chukar.jpg" width="313" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> Chukars are chunky gamebirds native to dry, mountainous areas from Greece to China. In 1893, they were first introduced into North America for sport shooting by a fellow named Blaisdell when he shipped five pairs to Illinois from Karachi, India (now Pakistan). Further introductions eventually followed, and between 1931 and 1970, roughly 795,000 Chukars were released in 41 states in the U.S. (including Hawaii), and 10,600 birds were released in 6 Canadian provinces.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDHq0fifQVw1hzSLq_TuTplqJKHU2F81kOy68xXvLKHReHBTecjjdZhZYCvarYnRWdouFam-3g-Xd6VszUFGqOMxlIfQPKXD8CP_w5L3_vVogwW9p_yedq69FkAQ3QfqDOqhEZ5omiYoxeN10rpyveodbzQDadEX6zPwBHvQetbjlbHMsowrvsPuD_BUy/s1200/chukar%20range%20map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="1200" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDHq0fifQVw1hzSLq_TuTplqJKHU2F81kOy68xXvLKHReHBTecjjdZhZYCvarYnRWdouFam-3g-Xd6VszUFGqOMxlIfQPKXD8CP_w5L3_vVogwW9p_yedq69FkAQ3QfqDOqhEZ5omiYoxeN10rpyveodbzQDadEX6zPwBHvQetbjlbHMsowrvsPuD_BUy/w400-h280/chukar%20range%20map.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">chukar natural range map</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Large numbers of birds were also stocked in environments totally unsuitable for them (e.g., 85,000 birds were released in Minnesota, 28,000 in Nebraska, and 43,000 in Wisconsin).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">However, they did well in most western states. In 1968, 37 years after the initial organized release effort in North America and Hawaii, chukar had become established in 10 western states, Hawaii, and British Columbia.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Hunters wanted more, of course, so between 1968 and 1996, approximately 130,000 additional game farm and wild trapped birds were released in California, Oregon, Utah, and Nevada to expand distribution and augment populations severely decimated by unusually heavy winter snows. These releases brought the total number of birds released in North America and Hawaii to approximately 936,000, of which 682,000 had been released in states and provinces where they became established.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">The upshot? Chukar has become a favorite of western sportsmen and ranks first in harvest among upland game birds in Nevada and Oregon, second in Washington, and third in Idaho.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Introduced species most often have unintended negative consequences, but chukars apparently haven’t had a major negative impact because they thrive in environments that most other creatures avoid. Their habitat of choice is a sparse, arid, overgrazed mountainside like those found in the Great Basin of the western U.S. and north through eastern Oregon, western Idaho, and eastern Washington. Chukars occasionally inhabit some agricultural lands adjacent to rocky canyons or mountainous areas, but they thrive on the overgrazed open ranges of the West where no agriculture exists, and they eat the leaves and seeds of annual and perennial grasses (primarily the introduced cheatgrass).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">They didn’t survive their introduction into Wisconsin, so none breed here. But hunters occasionally release them to train their dogs or as part of a paid hunting experience, and that’s likely the source of this chukar currently trying to figure out how to live within the Powell Marsh Wildlife Management Area.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Forest Lodge and Fairyland State Natural Area<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> Mary and I led a hike in the last week of September at Forest Lodge near Cable in Bayfield County. If you’re not familiar with the story of Forest Lodge, in 1999, the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest accepted a gracious donation from Mary Griggs Burke of her 872-acre Forest Lodge estate with an obligation to “provide environmental research and educational programs on or related to the Mary Livingston Griggs Special Management Area.” Special Management Areas (SMAs) are established to protect and foster public use and enjoyment of areas with outstanding scenic, historical, geological, botanical, or other special characteristics. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">There are four congressionally designated Special Management Areas on the 872-acre property:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->1-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Mary Livingston Griggs Historical SMA. This fifty-acre area consists of the twelve historic lodge buildings and grounds. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->2-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Fairyland Research Natural Area. These 32-acres of old-growth Eastern hemlocks are used only for research study, observation, monitoring, and educational activities.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->3-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Mary Griggs Burke Scenic SMA. This area includes the extensive undeveloped Lake Namekagon shoreline with some excellent stands of older hemlock. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->4-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Mary Griggs Burke Botanical SMA. Here are an additional 600 acres of second growth forest including the Forest Lodge Nature Trail.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Mary was the third generation owner of Forest Lodge, which was originally owned by the Northern Wisconsin Lumber Company. In 1902, Crawford Livingston purchased 100 acres of the lakeshore property for hunting and vacation purposes. Crawford Livingston’s daughter Mary Livingston Griggs and granddaughter Mary Griggs Burke continued to maintain and expand the property until Mary Burke’s death in 2012 when all 872 acres of Forest Lodge were entirely gifted to the U.S. Forest Service.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">In 2002, Forest Lodge was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. Since 2013, Forest Lodge has been in a transition period, having been closed to the public and now open – but with very limited facilities – due to the condition and ongoing restoration of the buildings. Public educational programs began in 2016 for the first time in the property’s history.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Northland College serves as the operator of Forest Lodge and coordinates the use of its facilities. One of Mary Burke’s foundations endowed Northland College’s Burke Center for Freshwater Innovation to operate on campus in Ashland and at Forest Lodge. The Center focuses on scientific research, communication, and leadership on water issues in the Great Lakes region and beyond. The Burke Center specializes in “translating” science to the general public, government agencies, NGOs, agriculture, and the private sector.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">It's a very special place. Contact Northland College to see what workshops, conferences, courses, and/or interpretive tours they may be conducting.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>September Temperatures Worldwide<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Early analyses show global warmth surged far above previous records in September, even further than what scientists said seemed like astonishing increases in July and August. The planet’s average temperature shattered the previous September record by more than half a degree Celsius (0.9 degrees Fahrenheit), which is the largest monthly margin ever observed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">Temperatures around the world last month were at levels closer to normal for July according to separate data analyses by European and Japanese climate scientists.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">September’s average temperature was about 0.88 degrees Celsius (1.6 degrees Fahrenheit) above 1991-2020 levels — or about 1.7 degrees Celsius (3.2 degrees Fahrenheit) above normal from before industrialization and the widespread use of fossil fuels.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Partial Solar Eclipse!<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> The new moon occurs on 10/14, as does an annular solar eclipse where the moon’s disk is slightly smaller than the sun’s disk, leaving the outer edge of the sun visible – the “ring of fire”. The eclipse begins in our area at 10:36 a.m., reaches maximum eclipse at 11:52 a.m., and ends at 1:13 p.m. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;">You must wear protective eyewear to observe this! Ordinary sunglasses, even very dark ones, are not safe for looking at the sun. The only safe way to look directly at an eclipse is through special-purpose solar filters, such as “eclipse glasses” or handheld solar viewers. Here is a website for purchasing one: <a href="https://eclipse.aas.org/resources/solar-filters">https://eclipse.aas.org/resources/solar-filters</a>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> We’ll only see about 40% of the eclipse – the main path begins in Oregon, arches down to Texas, then continues south into South America. This eclipse is the warm-up act for the spectacle of the nest total solar eclipse which will occur on April 8. 2024.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Other Celestial Events </b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">On 10/21, look for the peak of the Orionid meteor shower – best in predawn hours.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">On 10/24, look after dusk for Saturn 3 degrees north of the waxing gibbous moon.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background: white;">Thought for the Week</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">“And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves.” – Virginia Wolf</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/"><span style="background: white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-80334733785047626192023-09-26T09:09:00.000-07:002023-09-26T09:09:03.258-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for 9/29 - 10/12/23<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for 9/29 – 10/12/ /2023</span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> by John Bates</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Historic Fledging of Bald Eagles</b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Three eaglets fledged from two nests in Milwaukee County this summer – the first recorded fledglings there in over 120 years! Eagles now nest in all 72 Wisconsin counties.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUycIeH1FbPwjfaXfahcBzRLGwV-1Rm9o5nzT_FVZmWd-tcIP_sJpIe9VpMtTXw2vpJdrhUOQD81jFBq4ZriPdaMcpxIgqkWLuqL2TBF5xKRHSgmHLm_YFhcMZdkhQZLbTCg403bNYESOz2FvhuUF49geB2gcmYUfekiVSZ_od7VGaMpcrQumJd-6MuEq/s711/eaglenests-2019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="551" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUycIeH1FbPwjfaXfahcBzRLGwV-1Rm9o5nzT_FVZmWd-tcIP_sJpIe9VpMtTXw2vpJdrhUOQD81jFBq4ZriPdaMcpxIgqkWLuqL2TBF5xKRHSgmHLm_YFhcMZdkhQZLbTCg403bNYESOz2FvhuUF49geB2gcmYUfekiVSZ_od7VGaMpcrQumJd-6MuEq/w310-h400/eaglenests-2019.JPG" width="310" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Hawk Ridge – Blue Jay Numbers!<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b>In September, I always pay attention to the hawk count at Hawk Ridge in Duluth, however, the counters not only record raptors as they pass over the ridge, they also count songbirds. The songbird of particular note this fall has been blue jays! On 9/10 alone, 14,054 blue jays flew over. And as of 9/21, over 73,000 had been counted with more to come! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Wow! So, what’s the deal with blue jays? Well, from 1966 to 2015, the Blue Jay experienced a population decline along the Atlantic coast, but a greater than 1.5% annual population increase occurred throughout the northern part of its range, including Labrador, Nova Scotia, southern Quebec, and southern Manitoba. Partners in Flight estimates a global breeding population of 17 million.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Cornell’s “Birds of the World” says that much about their migratory behavior remains a mystery. Some are present throughout winter in all parts of their range, while some individual jays migrate south one year, stay north the next winter, and then migrate south again the next year. “To date, no one has concretely worked out why they migrate when they do. Likely, it is related to weather conditions and how abundant the winter food sources are, which can determine whether other northern birds will move south.” So, the high migratory numbers this year may be due to poor winter food sources, but basically, no one really knows.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">What’s the #2 songbird? Cedar waxwings. Nearly 14,000 have coursed over the ridge as of this writing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Broad-winged hawks are the usual draw at the ridge, but as of 9/21, the largest count has “only” been 4,601, a pittance for this species. The record daily high occurred on 9/15/2003: 101,698! The record seasonal high for just broad-wings alone was that year as well: 160,703.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Hawk Ridge averaged 76,000 migrating raptors every fall from 1991 to 2013, so this autumn’s numbers are well below that average. But it’s mostly about the weather, and if some strong north winds occur over a number of days in the last week of September, those numbers should grow considerably.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Flickers and Fruit<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Jane Lueneburg in Tomahawk sent me this note on 9/11: “Do you ever associate robins and flickers forming a small flock of maybe 3 to 4 of each kind and flying around together? Have been watching them in both our neighbor's yard and then ours.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> My initial reaction was that I had never heard of this before and that it was odd. Robins eat fruits, but flickers? As I thought about it more, however, I realized flickers eat not only ants, their primary food, but also berries in the autumn. I looked up studies on their diet and found that flickers are a specialist on ants – their sticky tongue can dart out as much as 4 cm (1.5 inches) beyond the bill tip to lap up adult and larval ants.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">But they’re also a generalist – they eat ground-dwelling insects or larvae such as beetles, and in late fall and winter, they supplement their diet with fruits. The ten seeds and fruits most frequently recorded in one southerly study based on stomach contents were (numbers refer to frequency in 684 sampled stomach contents): poison ivy (<i>Rhus radicans</i>, 82), bayberry (<i>Myrica carolinensis</i>, 48), sour gum (<i>Nyssa sylvatica</i>, 32), black cherry (<i>Prunus serotina</i>, 30), hackberry (<i>Celtis occidentalis</i>, 24), frost grape (<i>Vitis cordifolia</i>, 22), flowering dogwood (<i>Cornus florida</i>, 16), blackberry and raspberry (<i>Rubus spp</i>., 15), smooth sumac (<i>Rhus glabra</i>, 11), and sumac (<i>Rhus sp</i>., 11). They also ate the berries of woodbine and elderberry.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Northern flickers rely heavily on finding food on the ground, so that means that flickers migrate away from areas with deep and persistent snow cover in winter – the Northwoods, in other words. They’re currently feeding heavily on ants along roadsides, as well as fruits, but will be heading southward relatively soon. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ99TpCZUoTjctbHuqr4dERY3qjYrlxXl6e2JhP_Xr_4EmOfPoGNXioeFhzqZ7fRmD_s4nwS1MHrvXihZQuv1IOHDQo_aJWvjrMQiZiXlXougUxCMgRym3DFPqDsqChrNvbDwSqNS4Ygtql9Ya0JS5-9PeB4DbQtxZJOW7uKLRuT9LhSDMSGniXu5A_UBu/s1999/northern%20flicker%20range%20map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1999" data-original-width="1999" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ99TpCZUoTjctbHuqr4dERY3qjYrlxXl6e2JhP_Xr_4EmOfPoGNXioeFhzqZ7fRmD_s4nwS1MHrvXihZQuv1IOHDQo_aJWvjrMQiZiXlXougUxCMgRym3DFPqDsqChrNvbDwSqNS4Ygtql9Ya0JS5-9PeB4DbQtxZJOW7uKLRuT9LhSDMSGniXu5A_UBu/w400-h400/northern%20flicker%20range%20map.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern flicker range map</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Cedar Waxwings and Our Mountain Ash Trees<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Mary and I have planted a dozen or so mountain ash trees in recent years ostensibly to feed winter birds visiting us from Canada. But the word has gotten out to migrating cedar waxwings that a couple of our older trees in our yard are flush with berries, and the waxwings are hard at the process of stripping them bare.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrL7GSnNkUxxXNa4GbIrHDRcCgqldapjRtn5N7JCOPrXSmxezDLno8bMeQHEx0oYAJmYgO42KM9WhClzMm7Ev4qF8qgjixkCmMAD6N0i8Z-Brq6sl8U1spoWSYy4Mrn4XagcJnRnETqOOYLJynX2RXaS-vYXooFKWOvgTZL6l_QaYFxM0kBi7AaP7x-cqk/s2816/cedar%20waxwing%20in%20the%20mountain%20ash,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2112" data-original-width="2816" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrL7GSnNkUxxXNa4GbIrHDRcCgqldapjRtn5N7JCOPrXSmxezDLno8bMeQHEx0oYAJmYgO42KM9WhClzMm7Ev4qF8qgjixkCmMAD6N0i8Z-Brq6sl8U1spoWSYy4Mrn4XagcJnRnETqOOYLJynX2RXaS-vYXooFKWOvgTZL6l_QaYFxM0kBi7AaP7x-cqk/w400-h300/cedar%20waxwing%20in%20the%20mountain%20ash,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cedar waxwing photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> This makes me irrationally upset – I want the berries to be there this winter for visiting Canadian birds who will be struggling to find limited sources of food. In the autumn, fruits of all sorts are available for migrating birds, so I think the migrating birds should focus on other species and leave our mountain ashes alone. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Well, I’ve tried speaking with them about the issue, but I don’t speak waxwing, and even if I did, I doubt they’d concur.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In the meantime, we are awash in cedar waxwings, and if I can just let go of my winter desires, I will find myself thrilled with the beauty and spectacle of these exceptionally handsome birds.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Next on my list of frustrations with migrating birds will be American robins. They’ll be coming through in October to strip our crabapple trees, which we also planted to provide food for “our” wintering birds. I’m certain to want to shoo them away, which is both fruitless (get the pun?), and laughable. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Enjoy the moment, I always tell myself. Obviously, I still have work to do in living that maxim.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Air Conditioning<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">This year, Jeep rolled out a new edition of its popular four-wheel-drive SUV Jeep Wrangler JL. For the first time in the car’s 35-year history, air conditioning wasn’t an option, it was standard. And thus we have come to the end of an era: “The last car in the U.S. without standard air conditioning,” read the headline of the Autopian, an automotive magazine, “finally gives up the fight against refrigerant . . . the final holdout against the tyranny of condensers, compressors, driers, evaporators, and R1234yf refrigerant.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Do you remember when getting air conditioning in your car was a luxury, and an expensive one? Now, apparently, you can’t buy a car without air conditioning.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Air conditioning is becoming the norm in homes as well, and in many areas where heat is becoming unbearable, a necessity. From a recent article in the Washington Post: “This summer, all across the torrid globe, air conditioning was a necessity for billions of people, though less than a third of households have it. In the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic, it offered defense against not just the heat but also the eerie orange smoke from Canadian wildfires exacerbated by climate change. In Phoenix, where the temperature rose above 110 degrees for weeks on end, temporary cooling centers were a lifesaver for homeless people, though hundreds of heat-related deaths were confirmed or suspected throughout the metropolitan area. In Europe, where air conditioning is evolving from an eccentric, American-style indulgence to a standard amenity, AC offered a critical defense against a heat wave so powerful and persistent that the Europeans gave the high-pressure system causing it a name, ‘Cerberus,’ after the mythological three-headed hellhound who guards the gates of Hades.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Like the article states, “As the danger zone for excess heat creeps into once clement zones, the air conditioner joins the furnace as an essential system for ever more people.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">There’s an electrical energy cost, of course, to providing cooler buildings in summer, which adds to warming climates. As the author concludes, “We want to live beyond or without weather, because the weather we made is killing us.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>First Frost – September 14<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Summers are lasting longer, and often past the autumnal equinox in many places where it never had before. We had our first frost in Manitowish, and our only frost of September so far, on September 14, though many folks on higher ground were frost-free. We covered our garden, and everything came through fine.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">We’ve lived here 40 years, and in our first two decades, our first frost was remarkably always around August 21. We never had ripe red tomatoes. But that’s all changed. Ripe red tomatoes are still coming as of this writing on 9/21, just as they have for the last decade or more. We now have at least one month more growing season than we had in the 1980s and 90s.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Frog Bay Tribal National Park<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> On 9/20, I hiked the 1.7-mile loop trail in Frog Bay Tribal National Park, the first tribal national park in the United States, in glorious 79° weather. If you’re not familiar with Frog Bay, the 300-acre site comprises a rare boreal forest ecotype, over a mile of riparian corridor, nearly 120 acres of wetlands and freshwater estuary habitat, and almost 4,000 feet of undeveloped Lake Superior shoreline, all on the Red Cliff Reservation in Bayfield County.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDdCVIxB8TD5AcXC8rgII0SmQU_gH3L52bsAgt22kyL9wAbESZmi-y4lWfgmeqaeUbvnsYIDWq-1mLMY6ZBMYdJqLHzt-N7x0E6jqe3m_jcy6Uru_9WvUKkT4cW4cI4SDODsaIFEqhj7iJaa_egnOolF6liCDW51w4KO5aiHqNWAeKfmUI9uLck_wItiv/s1960/Frog%20Bay%20Tribal%20National%20Park.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="972" data-original-width="1960" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDdCVIxB8TD5AcXC8rgII0SmQU_gH3L52bsAgt22kyL9wAbESZmi-y4lWfgmeqaeUbvnsYIDWq-1mLMY6ZBMYdJqLHzt-N7x0E6jqe3m_jcy6Uru_9WvUKkT4cW4cI4SDODsaIFEqhj7iJaa_egnOolF6liCDW51w4KO5aiHqNWAeKfmUI9uLck_wItiv/w400-h199/Frog%20Bay%20Tribal%20National%20Park.png" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">The original 89-acre parcel of former Red Cliff Reservation land was successfully reacquired in 2012, and a second, 86-acre private parcel was acquired in 2017. This 175 acre area comprises FBTNP and permanently protects a large tract of at-risk boreal forest, the lower estuary and mouth of Frog Creek. And, importantly, it restored former reservation lands back to tribal ownership.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">To protect the headwaters of the Frog Creek watershed and preserve historical and cultural use of this place, in 2017, the Red Cliff Tribal Council then formally adopted the Frog Creek Conservation Management Area (CMA). The 300-acre CMA consists of Frog Bay Tribal National Park, 40 acres of land that was already in tribal ownership, and 80 acres of repatriated Bayfield County forestry land.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">The park is managed by Red Cliff’s Treaty Natural Resources Division, The trail system is rooty and rocky, but well-maintained, and includes interpretive signs, wooden crossings over wet areas, and a bridge over a ravine. Oak, Basswood, Hermit, Raspberry and Stockton Islands are visible from the sand beach.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The trail leads through older white cedars and hemlocks, some of which are 30” in diameter, though most average around 24”. Mature red oaks are also numerous, but the keynote of the site may be its upland white cedars near the shore, which, while not giants, appear quite old and add substantially to the ancient feeling of the area.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The full moon occurs tonight, 9/29. This “Harvest” or “Leaves Changing Color” moon will rise north of east, the first time since March.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> For planet watching in October, look for Saturn after dusk in the southeast. Before dawn, look for Venus high in the southeast and Jupiter in the east.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">“After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, and so on – have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear – what remains? Nature remains.” – Walt Whitman</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-37981006009207991022023-09-16T17:33:00.001-07:002023-09-16T17:33:17.432-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for 9/15/-28, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #050505;">A Northwoods Almanac for 9/15-28/23 </span></b><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Yellowjackets!</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> If there’s an insect hovering around your soda can or brat this time of year, chances are it’s a yellowjacket. Yellowjackets are actually wasps, and there are 13 species of them in Wisconsin, most distinguishing themselves via their slender shiny bodies with yellow and black banding. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Yellowjackets are often mistakenly called bees, but bees can usually be recognized by their densely hairy bodies. Yellowjackets and hornets have less conspicuous and relatively few hairs in comparison. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> During the spring and summer, yellowjacket colonies send out foragers to collect sugar and protein to support their growing larvae, the worker bees, and the new queens. In particular, yellowjackets search out the sweet secretions of aphids and scale insects, called “honeydew.” They also are predators, hunting for caterpillars, spiders, centipedes, flies and damselflies, among others, to provide the colony with protein, and they’ll also feed on carrion alongside vultures, crows, and eagles. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> By August, however, t<span style="background: white;">he queen quits her egg laying (save for a few) and no longer releases the pheromone that causes the workers to work. </span>Food sources became more scarce, and the workers set out to forage for themselves. Starving, thousands seek out easy to find nectars and sugars, bringing them often into contact with humans. One researcher says, “Yellowjackets use soda and other sweeteners as a sort of ‘aviation fuel’.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <span style="background: white;">The timing couldn't be better for them, or worse for us.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span>They can be aggressive and they can sting multiple times without dying, so one trapped in your shirt can wreak havoc. For comparison, when a bee stings, her reverse-barbed stinger works like a fish hook: it goes in but won’t come out, so she only stings once. On the other hand, a yellowjacket can sting again and again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The worst thing you can do is try and swat them. <span style="background: white;">The problem is that these workers have their own pheromone, which helps protect the nest from attack earlier in the year, and that's essentially a chemical rallying cry to other workers that the nest is under attack. So, when you swat that annoying wasp and it feels under attack, that rallying cry will go out, and more wasps will start arriving in aggressive mode, ready to defend their nest</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The best advice? Stay calm and cover your food.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The good news is they don’t last long up here. An early hard freeze kills them (another good reason to stop climate change), all except the queen who finds a snug place to hibernate and waits out the winter before starting a new colony in the spring.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivY5dRj_pXb_satWRr_UpW638mX8Bw3VO6wvru1Wra1SRU7AELpEOxQyrykLj2FPLlvUVbQuYTdV3OmGRX7OA5T10rwB0fH_zyPkMlIZ6ZofBl1YJfhEyR4o-F9lRtZ57LUl0qkxALK_bQKvRwQD3oALtU2N7D3At2F5N7LDFMeY6ZgpMUSw1QDTg4qdli/s795/yellowjacket%20vs.%20honey%20bee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="345" data-original-width="795" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivY5dRj_pXb_satWRr_UpW638mX8Bw3VO6wvru1Wra1SRU7AELpEOxQyrykLj2FPLlvUVbQuYTdV3OmGRX7OA5T10rwB0fH_zyPkMlIZ6ZofBl1YJfhEyR4o-F9lRtZ57LUl0qkxALK_bQKvRwQD3oALtU2N7D3At2F5N7LDFMeY6ZgpMUSw1QDTg4qdli/w400-h174/yellowjacket%20vs.%20honey%20bee.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Honey!<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Mary and I extracted honey from our two bee hives on 9/1. It’s an involved process, requiring us to take out ten frames from each “super” (a box on top of the hive base where the queen is excluded so there are no eggs and brood, but the worker bees will still make honey). We have to shake and brush the bees off each frame before we can take the frames over to the manual extractor. We then put the frames into our extractor and spin it by hand at high speed to fling the honey off the frames via centrifugal force and into a stainless steel barrel. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Both hives did reasonably well! We got 14 quarts – 3.5 gallons – which weighs around 48 pounds. This is a modest total harvest for two hives, however. In much better bee habitats, and if we were better beekeepers, we might get three times that amount. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSsA6YZm2wm1b8_FeEYdI9skac0DvRkIrbzA9cN4GUCbr5s6-j3KplODuah-mTXlTbOGEJ4reEkKMECeROy57_CNMHmp7wJycgT7ewxJV5BJG9-GgVe9OKuXBG-kSrcWG08FUprVlk6saiDTXcQOXj68l4qSPVxtuoD7sYkcdvHOAga1WZv4fIUIcNUTnK/s2198/John%20Bates%20with%20their%20%20honey%20harvest.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2006" data-original-width="2198" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSsA6YZm2wm1b8_FeEYdI9skac0DvRkIrbzA9cN4GUCbr5s6-j3KplODuah-mTXlTbOGEJ4reEkKMECeROy57_CNMHmp7wJycgT7ewxJV5BJG9-GgVe9OKuXBG-kSrcWG08FUprVlk6saiDTXcQOXj68l4qSPVxtuoD7sYkcdvHOAga1WZv4fIUIcNUTnK/w400-h365/John%20Bates%20with%20their%20%20honey%20harvest.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the honey harvest in Manitowish</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In September, the trick now becomes to help the bees make it through the winter. We leave two “deeps” (brood boxes) in each hive. Each deep is loaded with honey – about 70 pounds worth. So, the bees have somewhere around 140 pounds of their own honey in each hive to feed on to get them through the winter. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Nevertheless, we will soon start feeding the bees sugar water so that they don’t eat too much of their own honey before winter sets in, and thus starve if we have a late spring. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> We’re hoping both hives make it to May, and we have an earlier “spring,” such as it is, than we had this year.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> We’re still learning. When all is said and done, we’re really not much more than landlords for the bees. We provide a safe home for them, but they do all the work, and we get some of their honey as a rent payment.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Wild Rice</span></b><span style="background: white;"></span><b><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> As is normal, the rice is good this year on some lakes and rivers and absent on others. Rice goes through an average cycle of one good year, two modest years, and one bust year, and every lake and river is on a different schedule within this general cycle. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Off reservation, around 60,000 pounds of green rice is harvested every year in Wisconsin, with the finished rice ending up a little less than half of that.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Note that the “wild rice” you see advertised in gas stations and supermarkets for around $4 a pound is cultivated farmed rice, not true wild rice harvested from our lakes and rivers. Up until 75 years ago, only true wild rice could be purchased or harvested. But in 1950, the first cultivated rice was grown in Minnesota, and by 1958, that one acre had grown to 120 acres. Soon, the University of Minnesota began breeding new strains that were more easily harvested by large combines, and by 1975, 18,000 acres were being farmed in Minnesota.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> California farmers got into the act in 1977, even though the region was far outside of the natural range of wild rice, and by 1986, California passed Minnesota in commercial wild rice production.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Bringing us up to current times, California now grows 90% of all the commercial wild rice in the U.S. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> So, check your labels if you want to buy true wild rice, though labeling is very inconsistent, and producers don’t have to say whether the rice is cultivated or not. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The easiest way to know if you’re buying true wild rice? It should cost you $12 to $15 per pound and be hard to find. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Lapland Longspurs</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Our best bird sighting of the last couple weeks was a flock of Lapland longspurs on the dikes at Powell Marsh. They’re notable because they breed across vast areas of the Arctic, where they are often the most visible and abundant bird, and sometimes the only nesting songbird. They’re primarily a seed eater, though they also forage for invertebrates. They frequent prairies, open fields, grain stubbles, shores, and any open ground where they have access to seeds. We only see them as they pass through here to their winter grounds, which are wherever they can find little to no snow on open, weedy ground. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdIpudgL9oygD2bkKbfW_P6hArjaoyRMTWAEQLQCYGndKfeLaQLqhOL6X0dOhy1MGmhTHZ3aNUViTLf37khJVUzc8Yq_h5ujQhliRrNLsdcUd3qmTs960odcV2S0wBllBgWc5P4Tq4LJvcL38ulLLcvq8awSqUDqzwbGxz5KEkeQD09ByeFF-sKTkiahF/s480/Lapland%20longspur%20nonbreeding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdIpudgL9oygD2bkKbfW_P6hArjaoyRMTWAEQLQCYGndKfeLaQLqhOL6X0dOhy1MGmhTHZ3aNUViTLf37khJVUzc8Yq_h5ujQhliRrNLsdcUd3qmTs960odcV2S0wBllBgWc5P4Tq4LJvcL38ulLLcvq8awSqUDqzwbGxz5KEkeQD09ByeFF-sKTkiahF/w400-h300/Lapland%20longspur%20nonbreeding.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM082zQugBGoMsEBAp8fDNYk1FEXWL1dAvFCDMaFJ4EpooJQzd5Chfh2MvlJWIJ6dx9RHlf0xxSk4oBPVb05f3OCq1pHYAmjKiBP3JCPAqf2b9beAoqvf_BPGmkiMz9GIo3OuwCZJPj0VmZL4HjU2wGRvNQy_yaDxqk9BXkLC-5N5IpiHfL8F3SgbxWCIT/s1200/Lapland%20longspur%20range%20map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="1200" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM082zQugBGoMsEBAp8fDNYk1FEXWL1dAvFCDMaFJ4EpooJQzd5Chfh2MvlJWIJ6dx9RHlf0xxSk4oBPVb05f3OCq1pHYAmjKiBP3JCPAqf2b9beAoqvf_BPGmkiMz9GIo3OuwCZJPj0VmZL4HjU2wGRvNQy_yaDxqk9BXkLC-5N5IpiHfL8F3SgbxWCIT/w400-h280/Lapland%20longspur%20range%20map.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lapland longspur range map</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Leaf Change: Coming Soon To A Forest Near You</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> I should know better than to try and predict our fall colors, but our dry spring and summer, and last year’s relative dryness, has led to many forests being stressed. And that leads me to believe we’ll have early colors and an early leaf fall. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">Hal Borland in his book </span>Twelve Moons of the Year</em><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;"> writes about this time of year:<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">“September is more than a month, really; it is a season, an achievement in itself. It begins with</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">August's leftovers and it ends with October's preparations . . . In the goldenrod's gleaming glory is</span></em> <em><span style="font-style: normal;">the certainty of greater glory in birch and maple and aspen. Scattered bursts of flame in the sumacs</span></em> <em><span style="font-style: normal;">light fires that will spread to woodbine and swamp maple and dogwood and chokeberry. Asters frost the roadsides, reminders of frosty mornings ahead, and milkweed floss and thistledown are glinting reminders of chill, misty dawns to come . . . The green urgency is past, its ripeness</span></em> <em><span style="font-style: normal;">almost complete. Even the days and nights near their time of balance as we approach the equinox</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">and harvest moon. Deliberate September, in its own time and tempo, begins to sum up another</span></em> <em><span style="font-style: normal;">summer.” </span></em><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></strong><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Beaver Creek Hemlocks</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> To celebrate the protection of old-growth forests, Beaver Creek Hemlocks in Springstead was inducted into the national Old-Growth Forest Network (OGFN) on September 7, 2023. By joining the national registry (the 7th in Wisconsin to do so), this special property connects people of all generations to the beauty of and history behind old-growth forests. The registry not only builds a network of the nation’s oldest forests, but also an alliance of people who care about them.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43n6FX4rZk52owaR5NolFGq0-Le0C6okhbICkHA-L1jCVlICk8RBZDFxgY_0jVpdfi7y9jVAsZyfqtBwby8zDZvZti7Id1uYMR5j8xkpc4tY6GVVe-L4UoQcUCZmQ3gkFfuwm_Qh6jZreYzDLTfNlkBXHEpHrq__e-_s_n79oyDSFVzZtZjJsookTSfSk/s864/Beaver%20Creek%20Hemlocks%20dedication%209:7:23.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="864" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43n6FX4rZk52owaR5NolFGq0-Le0C6okhbICkHA-L1jCVlICk8RBZDFxgY_0jVpdfi7y9jVAsZyfqtBwby8zDZvZti7Id1uYMR5j8xkpc4tY6GVVe-L4UoQcUCZmQ3gkFfuwm_Qh6jZreYzDLTfNlkBXHEpHrq__e-_s_n79oyDSFVzZtZjJsookTSfSk/w400-h300/Beaver%20Creek%20Hemlocks%20dedication%209:7:23.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beaver Creek Hemlocks Dedication</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The Northwoods Land Trust (NWLT) purchased the property in 2021 from the Board of Commissioners of Public Lands (BCPL). In the 1800s, the federal government granted Wisconsin millions of acres of land to be held by BCPL. Most of the land was sold and the proceeds created the School Trust Fund to support public education.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> BCPL still owns widely scattered parcels. Some have been sold or traded to other conservation agencies and organizations such as NWLT because they are not compatible with BCPL’s forest management directive. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> In recent years, NWLT has worked with BCPL to identify parcels of interest, many containing remnant pieces of old-growth forests. The Beaver Creek Hemlocks and Sack Lake Hemlocks in Iron County are two of NWLT’s acquisitions that were original BCPL lands. They conserve a rare feature of Northwoods biodiversity, our old-growth hemlock forests.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">On 9/16, look just after dusk low in the west for Mars right below the waxing sliver moon.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The official autumn equinox occurs on 9/23 when the sun rises nearest due east and sets nearest due west. As of 9/26, nights start to become longer than days, the first time since March 17.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> On 9/26, look after dusk in the southeast for Saturn 3° above the waxing gibbous moon.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “Solitude isn’t where you find yourself necessarily, but where you find everything else.” – Author unknown</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-12646425588537529912023-08-27T17:25:00.004-07:002023-08-27T17:25:44.648-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for September 1, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for 9/1-14/23 </span></b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Nighthawks</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Tim Kroeff emailed me on 8/18 with a sighting of a flock of nighthawks migrating over a lake in the Mercer area. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Two days later (8/20), I saw a posting by Eric Bruhnke, an ace birder who has worked as an interpreter for six seasons at Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory in Duluth, Minnesota; counted migrating raptors at the Corpus Christi HawkWatch in Texas in 2015; and was the 2016, 2017, and 2018 hawk counter at the Cape May Hawkwatch in New Jersey, among other things he’s done. Eric described a “</span><span style="color: #050505;">lifer” experience of seeing and counting more nighthawks than he’d ever seen in one day. That evening he counted 18,695 nighthawks in just under 3.5 hours flying over his backyard along the North Shore of Lake Superior in Duluth. He noted that “late August is prime time for seeing these birds migrate through the Duluth area” and that hot, calm conditions increase insect hatches, which attract insectivorous birds like nighthawks. He wrote, “There were times when I found myself getting watery-eyed while clicking them [off], being just delighted at the spectacle, with each one erratically meandering and feeding among each other.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> His tally would seem impossible to top, but on August 26, 1990, one experienced counter, Mike Hendrickson, tallied 43,690 in a two-and-a-half-hour period from a vantage point north of Duluth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> More locally, three days later on 8/23, Bob Kovar on Wild Rice Lake in Manitowish Waters called me to say he was watching 50 to perhaps 100 or more nighthawks swirling around in the air above his dock. So, I hightailed it over there and found him not at his home, but trying to photograph the nighthawks careening over one of the nearby cranberry dikes. \</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMu5jMuGa07n3uHhzVSR9Igl1p7HCRfUMvDrsNU_271hr-7GrWiG8XZwzuvCnxlQU6qpVoWvyYd6Wg-2qr-W0huie5qYM2aouseaNXMHZfYFj4DZmH13RjjvK6tyycnmblUkcxjTrqBz7SwD8N916HvVRr8nurmcanKYOEf6VDpwc4WQzIyvqTQUKyIYi/s571/nighthawk%20photo%20by%20Bob%20Kovar%208:23:23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="415" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMu5jMuGa07n3uHhzVSR9Igl1p7HCRfUMvDrsNU_271hr-7GrWiG8XZwzuvCnxlQU6qpVoWvyYd6Wg-2qr-W0huie5qYM2aouseaNXMHZfYFj4DZmH13RjjvK6tyycnmblUkcxjTrqBz7SwD8N916HvVRr8nurmcanKYOEf6VDpwc4WQzIyvqTQUKyIYi/s320/nighthawk%20photo%20by%20Bob%20Kovar%208:23:23.jpg" width="233" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">nighthawk photo by Bob Kovar</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> If you’ve not watched nighthawks feeding on an insect hatch before, you would find it just as hard to photograph them as Bob was finding it. Nighthawks erratically bob and weave and dart, a bit like a bat or a moth in flight, as they swoop through the air literally trawling for insects. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Nighthawks fly with their mouths open and scoop insects in. They do this because that’s all they can do. Nighthawks aren’t hawks. They don’t wield lethal talons, but rather have flat feet that are very small and weak. Rather than killing prey with their beak or claws, a nighthawk simply flies straight into bugs with its mouth and throat wide open. Laura Ericson, well-known birder and author, writes: “This is fast enough that insects go straight down the hatch, meeting their deaths by contact with internal digestive juices rather than external killing structures. The nighthawk’s tiny vestigial tongue set at the very back of its mouth probably has little or no tasting function; food whizzes past too quickly to rest on the tongue and too fast for the bird to reject at the last moment if it doesn’t like the taste.”</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Laura worked for many years to rehabilitate injured birds, including nighthawks, and notes, “On the ground, the most succulent moth could walk right in front of the hungriest nighthawk, barely a millimeter from its beak, and the bird could do nothing but watch, hoping that the moth would walk in.”</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> She was amazed at how helpless they were to feed themselves when not in flight. “When I first received a [injured] bird, I’d have to tease the fragile mouth open to place food inside. Within days, most birds would run up to me, mouths open, to be fed, but no matter how long I had one, I could never teach it to feed itself. This was not because nighthawks lack intelligence but because they lack the physical structures necessary for self-feeding on the ground . . . And even after nighthawks learn to open their mouths to be hand-fed, many adults can’t swallow food items on their own for days or weeks longer.”</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Nighthawks migrate a great distance between their breeding range and their wintering grounds in South America, making their flight one of the longest migration routes traveled by any North American bird. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Fall departures begin in July in both northern and southern portions of the breeding range in the U.S. and Canada, and individuals become quite gregarious during fall migration with flocks of 1,000's not uncommon. Records indicate that transients pass through Colombia and Venezuela, and then head east of the Andes to reach their primary wintering grounds. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Loon Story<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Mary and Steve Ales own property on Stearns Lake, and emailed me with this story: “We were fortunate to have two loon chicks born on the lake, likely in early July. We've watched them grow and as of 7/15 there were still 2 chicks.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> “[We returned on] 7/30, and we now have 3 chicks. One is clearly a bit smaller than the other two, but it's out and swimming around and diving. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> “We've done some internet sleuthing and this seems pretty unusual to have a clutch of three, let alone this mysterious arrival of the third. We don't think it is an adoption as we've never seen another pair on the lake consistently. And given the parent's behavior on 7/15, we don't think that they were sitting on a nest.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> They asked me what I thought happened. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I didn’t know, so I suggested they contact Walter Piper who has done loon research on our local lakes for 31 years. His response was this according to Mary: “The answer seems to be one of two scenarios. Either something happened to the parents and the loon [chick] walked to our lake to find its new family, or there was an additional breeding pair that tried to set up home on Stearns Lake, and those parents were driven off by the resident nesting pair. Dr. Piper has seen both scenarios. The good news is that the family accepted the younger chick and everyone seems to be a happy family of five. However it happened, it was an unusual occurrence. We feel honored to have witnessed this.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Hikes in State Natural Areas (SNA) and Federal Research Natural Areas (RNA)</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">Over the last several weeks, Mary and I led hikes in Doering Woods SNA, Tucker Lake Hemlocks SNA/RNA, Frog Lake SNA, Scott Lake/Shelp Lake SNA, Giant White Pine SNA, and cancelled but scouted Lake Laura SNA and Lake Alva SNA.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> We love doing these hikes because of all the exceptional people we meet on the trips, but also because of some of the unusual things we see. I’ll just share two. We found what I think was the largest shelf fungi, an artist’s bracket (<i>Ganoderma applanatum</i>), that we’ve ever seen. I measured it at 29.5 inches across, and it looks a bit like an ocean stingray with its wavy brim. Cora Mollen’s and Larry Weber’s book <i>Fascinating Fungi of the Northwoods</i> says that one of these can live for as long as 50 years. Given the size of this one, I imagine it could be at least this old.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKQ8fEoP7VpwdfRqKlVUihiEOtMUOAoWlT2evZbisEGoaHzxSB-eXUMZMXe0QG8ZowuELcUsjgZ8QxlZqfCAn7b88HIF85WsvpzVhHomZxApCypP-MJk1CUPwEhP9vj8WUDXGEyZXuKPkIshirC3B_ityJuROaV4WnSiGq6gkf7gt1WU04tUODfacAsS2/s2673/Shelf%20fungi%2029%22%20across%20%208:7:23%20Giant%20White%20Pine%20Trail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2673" data-original-width="2577" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKQ8fEoP7VpwdfRqKlVUihiEOtMUOAoWlT2evZbisEGoaHzxSB-eXUMZMXe0QG8ZowuELcUsjgZ8QxlZqfCAn7b88HIF85WsvpzVhHomZxApCypP-MJk1CUPwEhP9vj8WUDXGEyZXuKPkIshirC3B_ityJuROaV4WnSiGq6gkf7gt1WU04tUODfacAsS2/w386-h400/Shelf%20fungi%2029%22%20across%20%208:7:23%20Giant%20White%20Pine%20Trail.JPG" width="386" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">artist's bracket, photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The other unusual item we found was a large mass of “scrambled egg’ slime mold. The <i>Fascinating Fungi</i> book says of this species, “As slime molds do, it first moves in amoeba-like fashion, engulfing nutrient including bacteria and organic matter. Finally, it migrates to a favorable spot for spore dispersal and forms its characteristic soft, yellow molds. At maturity, these become crusty and disintegrate, freeing their spores.” </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABke2xMZdO85hUN_dBsGJe_drz1qyz2dLRp53GU7LqjPB7Cvzhfe_99KdBxiQD_aO2LWckiK03o1L8Duh3pzZpcgRrXr8m5Dbc2u_8eLazjeGwRPO7fjpzuAtVB0kHsmGUCrYTk9tJ9DX3QrW7Ogj2rJpZ5jYh7aCh5-v8vVryW_JyB1PI3peQiyssEGK/s4000/scrambled%20egg%20slimemold%208:12:23%20Round%20Lake%20trail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABke2xMZdO85hUN_dBsGJe_drz1qyz2dLRp53GU7LqjPB7Cvzhfe_99KdBxiQD_aO2LWckiK03o1L8Duh3pzZpcgRrXr8m5Dbc2u_8eLazjeGwRPO7fjpzuAtVB0kHsmGUCrYTk9tJ9DX3QrW7Ogj2rJpZ5jYh7aCh5-v8vVryW_JyB1PI3peQiyssEGK/w400-h300/scrambled%20egg%20slimemold%208:12:23%20Round%20Lake%20trail.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">scrambled egg slime mold, photo by Mary Burns</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Yes, slime molds move. They ooze through their habitats – soil or woody debris for instance – and eventually stop to metamorphosize into their fruiting bodies. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> They’ve even been shown to think and solve problems. Placed in a maze, they can find their way directly through the maze to a food source.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;">Trivia Time: Why is a Moose’s Nose So Big?<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b><span style="color: #050505;">I’ll bet everyone has wondered why a deer has a relatively short nose while a moose has a long one. Well . . . maybe none of you have ever wondered about this, but I have, so here’s the answer courtesy of the </span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Alaska Science Forum and a scientist from Ohio, Lawrence Witmer..</span><span style="color: #050505;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Before Witmer’s study, scientists had speculated that a long nose could help a moose shed heat from its huge body. Witmer found this adaptation unlikely because few blood vessels exist near the outside surface of a moose’s nose.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Another reason a moose might have a big nose is to better sniff out predators or potential mates. Like a person’s ears, a moose’s large nostrils point opposite directions which might help moose to better locate smells. Moose may in fact use their unique nostrils for directional smelling, but Whitmer determined that it’s most likely that the moose utilize a set of valves that close automatically underwater.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdF9OqJlp1GY2f7F7W17SYollArqMPUmtQ2JYQrJt-W13AxiFXp3Irjy_kGNlKNBaa2eazuCl2yUBhkAuL-25AAf8pSv1igmC2gMBF4clMjSdCX0UyQAxcNnk4yh5vQmYtgqk8DInJYA2SMdiyDk7_API7aJ9WGPGZUkTBlqbJzKelnUL9RBwfjiY_gpX/s1527/Moose%20illustrion%20by%20Rebecca%20Jabs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1527" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdF9OqJlp1GY2f7F7W17SYollArqMPUmtQ2JYQrJt-W13AxiFXp3Irjy_kGNlKNBaa2eazuCl2yUBhkAuL-25AAf8pSv1igmC2gMBF4clMjSdCX0UyQAxcNnk4yh5vQmYtgqk8DInJYA2SMdiyDk7_API7aJ9WGPGZUkTBlqbJzKelnUL9RBwfjiY_gpX/w314-h400/Moose%20illustrion%20by%20Rebecca%20Jabs.jpg" width="314" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">moose illustration by Rebecca Jabs</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> Most animals like horses, dogs, and cats and other members of the deer family can’t close their nostrils, but it’s a common aquatic adaptation. Whitmer figured out that when a moose dips its head under water, the difference between the water pressure and the air pressure causes the nostrils to close. This adaptation allows a moose to feed on underwater aquatic plants without water flooding into its nose.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Climate Change Stats for China and the U.S.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> China has led the world in annual carbon emissions since 2006, and currently produces more than double the carbon emissions of the U.S. However, per person the U.S. emits twice as much carbon dioxide as China does. China has 1.4 billion people, the U.S. 334 million. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The United States has reduced its annual carbon emissions over the last 25 years, largely because of the power sector’s shift from coal to natural gas and stricter environmental regulations, while China’s emissions are rising. But on a cumulative basis, America has still pumped far more carbon dioxide into the atmosphere than any other country since preindustrial times. To date, the U.S. has emitted 20% of the worlds CO2, and China 11%.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> China is projected to surpass the United States as the biggest historical emitter, but not until 2050. Until then, America will continue to hold that distinction.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Meanwhile, China is leading on developing renewable energy, producing far more wind and solar power than the U.S., and has the biggest electric vehicle market also by far.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Bottom line: neither country is cutting enough carbon or making the transition to renewables fast enough to limit warming to 1.5°C (2.7°F).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> For planet watching in September, look after dusk for Saturn in the east-southeast, and for Mars very low in the west. Before dawn, look for Venus high in the east and Jupiter in the south. Look on 9/4 for Jupiter about 3° below the waning gibbous moon.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Thought for the Week </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> A home is not simply a building; it is the shelter around the intimacy of a life . . . The inner walls of a home are threaded with the textures of one's soul, a subtle weave of presences. If you could see your home through the lens of the soul, you would be surprised at the beauty concealed in the memory your home holds . . . Where love has lived, a house still holds the warmth. Even the poorest home feels like a nest if love and tenderness dwell there. – John O’Donohue<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-10927381802372940342023-08-17T18:55:00.001-07:002023-08-17T18:57:33.152-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for August 18-31, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for August 18 – 31, 2023</span></b><span style="background: repeat white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Fall Bird Migration Underway!</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #212121;"> </span><span style="background: repeat white;">August means our days are growing shorter and our weather is shifting as the sun’s position in the sky drifts south.</span><span style="background: repeat rgb(244, 244, 244);"></span>In response, every autumn billions of birds migrate south through the US, mostly under the cover of darkness, and m<span style="background: repeat white;">ost beginning to migrate 30 to 45 minutes after sunset, with the greatest number in flight two to three hours later. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> It may be hard to believe, but migration is already underway for many species, though most will pass through the contiguous U.S. from early September through October. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Bird researchers have spent decades trying to understand where and when bird migration will occur. In the last few years a highly sophisticated forecasting program called BirdCast (</span><a href="https://birdcast.info/news/the-return-of-migration-tools-fall-2023/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white;">https://birdcast.info/news/the-return-of-migration-tools-fall-2023/</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;">) </span><span style="background: repeat white;">has been refined to provide tools that predict and monitor bird migration.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span><span style="background: repeat white;">These include forecast bird migration maps that predict how much, where and when bird migration will occur; live bird migration maps that show how much, where, and when migration is occurring in real-time; migration alerts to which one can subscribe to learn when intense bird migration will occur; and a dashboard that provides radar-based measurements of nocturnal bird migration at county and state levels.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The researchers have built this app based on over 20 years of analyzing radar and weather data. The same Doppler radars that meteorologists use to estimate rainfall rates are equally adept at detecting other objects in the atmosphere, like birds.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> While this program helps birders know where and when to see maximum numbers of birds, </span>BirdCast also uses the information on the numbers and flight directions of birds to expand the understanding of migratory bird movement. <span style="background: repeat white;">The ability to forecast migration two weeks in advance has tremendous potential for bird conservation – from informing siting and operation of wind turbines, to addressing impacts of light pollution, to providing information to mitigate bird collisions with aircraft.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Wisconsin ranked 6<sup>th</sup> nationwide this spring in the number of birds flying over the state, so one wonders where we’ll rank after this autumn’s flight. Keep an eye and an ear upward.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Late Summer Flowering – Large-Leaved Aster</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">Large-leaved aster (</span><i>Eurybia macrophylla</i>) <span style="background: repeat white;">has finally come into bloom. </span>We have dozens of species of asters, but the most common aster in relatively open woods is the large-leaf aster. The rough leaves are quite large (4”-8” wide), rounded, heart-shaped with a notch in the base, long stemmed, and feel rough. The flowers appear very late in the summer and are often sparse to absent among the many leaves – perhaps 10% of a given clonal colony will send up a flower. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsfn32v0Sv4vhw56gE8CSaE-qQirPL08SiNzTjfTvOTaabj0A6ZkiDhqbc99QbjOZ9OuUauYyMGkYlM9mHejA0NzB184eqcG-6zuucciRI0VSdc8tojFwZNga_krWp0SuaDpSEwcPiEXPDdoUUqC6yFQtePDwgL3-_dedyvvknNXKD6tMVw8yux3PUyhl/s4000/large-leaved%20aster,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsfn32v0Sv4vhw56gE8CSaE-qQirPL08SiNzTjfTvOTaabj0A6ZkiDhqbc99QbjOZ9OuUauYyMGkYlM9mHejA0NzB184eqcG-6zuucciRI0VSdc8tojFwZNga_krWp0SuaDpSEwcPiEXPDdoUUqC6yFQtePDwgL3-_dedyvvknNXKD6tMVw8yux3PUyhl/w400-h300/large-leaved%20aster,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">large-leaved aster, photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Large-leaved aster assures its survival in a variety of very effective ways: by sending out long underground stems that produce new clonal plants away from the parent plant; by producing a toxin from its roots that weakens competitors; and by creating a sub-canopy of large leaves above the forest floor that shades out most competitors, much like bracken fern does. All of these adaptations help it form dense colonies that exclude virtually every other plant species. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Why does aster bloom so late in the year? No one can say for sure, but one possibility is the lack of competitors fighting for the available sunlight and soil nutrients, since over 70% of our wildflowers bloom by June 15. On the other hand, autumn days are shorter and cooler which would seem to offset the competitive advantages.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> William Quayle in 1907 wrote of asters: [They are] “stars fetched from the night skies and planted on the fields of day.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Autumn days in the Northwoods are brightly colored not only by the changing leaves but by the these hardy flowers which can last well into October.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><i> Aster</i> is Greek for "star", and is the source of other celestial words such as astronaut, astrology, astronomy, asterisk (the “little star”), and even disaster (to be “ill-starred”).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The young, tender leaves of the large-leaf aster are reported to have been eaten by the Ojibwa who would boil the leaves with fish. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Here’s an important tip. The backwoods doesn't come complete with indoor plumbing, as many unprepared hikers have discovered over time, and the need for a natural toilet paper has been a high priority for many of those who forgot the Charmin. Early settlers supposedly used the large coarse leaves of large-leaved aster as a toilet paper, thus bringing to life the off-color, but easily remembered nickname of “large-a** leafster.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Wake Surfing Can Be Prohibited<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> From an 8/3 article by Paul Smith in the Milwaukee Journal (“<span style="color: #303030;">Wake surfing drawing more scrutiny, calls for restrictions in Wisconsin”)</span>:<span style="color: #303030;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #303030;"> “Arguably no boating activity in Wisconsin has generated more concern in recent years than wake surfing. The topic has come before the Natural Resources Board several times and local restrictions are popping up on wake surfing . . . The most recent in Wisconsin is a prohibition on wake surfing on Diamond Lake in Bayfield County. The measure became effective April 12; it was passed by the local town board after local residents presented data and persuaded the change . . . </span><span style="color: #303030;">Only about 10 ordinances to restrict or prohibit wake surfing exist in Wisconsin .<span style="background: repeat white;"> </span>. . One is in Mequon-Thiensville on the Milwaukee River where homeowners and river users were tired of high waves and shoreline erosion caused by wake surfing . . . <span style="background: repeat white;">New research from the University of Minnesota and reports from Wisconsin residents seem to indicate that there is potentially significant long-term ecological damage produced by wake surfing . . . in Wisconsin it's mostly up to local municipalities to pass ordinances restricting or prohibiting the activity.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #303030;"> We’re a globally important area for inland lakes. What’s our responsibility for protecting them as communities of life versus an empty space for any form of recreation, no matter its ecological impacts? This is no different than any other zoning issue. Town boards can, and should, restrict wake surf boat use to very large lakes (500+ acres in 15+ feet of water), and prohibit their use on all other lakes. Period.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Wild Rice Class</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> I’m currently taking a class on wild rice through Fe University (</span><a href="https://feuniversity.org/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: repeat white;">https://feuniversity.org</span></a><span style="background: repeat white;">) which is being taught by two true experts: Peter David, recently retired biologist and wild rice researcher from the Great Lakes Indian Fish and Wildlife Commission, and John Olson, retired wildlife biologist for the WDNR, semi-aquatic mammal expert, and long-time wild rice gatherer. The class takes place over four sessions, and the first one met on 8/8. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> I learned a number of new things right away and had confirmed a number of other things that I thought were true. The wild rice species we have in northern Wisconsin is northern wild rice (<i>Zizania palustris</i>). There’s only about 6,000 acres of it in all of northern Wisconsin, so it’s not all that common. Northern Minnesota supports far more, somewhere around 30,000 acres, but there’s only a few sites in Michigan, and little else in North America. Southern wild rice (<i>Zizania aquaticus</i>) has a far wider distribution, but is far less valuable as wild food source because of how slender its seed is and how tall it gets. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> So, northern wild rice has an extremely limited global distribution, and thus we have a global responsibility to do right by it. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> It’s cultural value to Native American tribes can’t be overstated. It’s a sacred plant, a gift from the Creator. Alfred Jenks, an American anthropologist known for his work on historical wild rice cultivation, wrote this in 1902: “No other section of the North American continent was so characteristically an Indian paradise so far as spontaneous vegetal food [wild rice] is concerned, as was the territory in Wisconsin and Minnesota.”</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeSxsJmss5ehb-pA0mt1i7uh3ZAOkEyuIS8D7HodJ32LESM-JMsXKNZrHNPH0QNZQ_MFOVanyvzqEMQMCx2AVZ2KCytPrmDkauv82kdKEXlGzW-o4WBV89MDGmRpSjmATUw2gzCoSizsKRFE3tu5uo0rFADWpBVGWjwoyZ-8gyVg12W9tOoKaqVNbYZV2/s1950/paddling%20through%20wild%20rice,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1055" data-original-width="1950" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeSxsJmss5ehb-pA0mt1i7uh3ZAOkEyuIS8D7HodJ32LESM-JMsXKNZrHNPH0QNZQ_MFOVanyvzqEMQMCx2AVZ2KCytPrmDkauv82kdKEXlGzW-o4WBV89MDGmRpSjmATUw2gzCoSizsKRFE3tu5uo0rFADWpBVGWjwoyZ-8gyVg12W9tOoKaqVNbYZV2/w400-h216/paddling%20through%20wild%20rice,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">paddling through wild rice, photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> I downloaded a copy of his 1902 book “The Wild Rice Gatherers of the Upper Lakes: A Study in American Primitive Economics,” and am working my way through it. He notes, “In 1817, the interior of Wisconsin is spoken of as watered with innumerable small lakes and ponds which generally abound with folle avoine [wild rice], waterfowl, and fish, each in such prodigious quantities that the Indians are in a manner exempt from the contingence of famine.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> He described Green Bay: “Green Bay from above the mouth of Menomini [sic] River southward to the bay-head, has been fringed with the plant from earliest historic times, and today there are thousands of acres of wild rice in the shallows of its waters . . . Fox River from Lake Winnebago to its source has been reported as filled with wild rice from the time of Marquette, who spoke of it 1673: ‘The way is so cut up by marshes and little lakes that it is easy to go astray, especially as the river is so covered with wild oats [wild rice] that one can hardly discover the channel.’” </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Jenks goes on to describe many, many areas of central and northern Wisconsin that were awash in wild rice – I’ll describe some of those in later columns. Suffice it to say wild rice was extraordinarily abundant historically, but is much diminished today.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiSH8MgAAq8KMD2n3Qm5ZtryP6OyfcMdccSOBx8Qx5aKlXgqq7gitzHUVcg6wMsznjkIQANjJhQRo-o5FLr_yyF19geYfoche-tXIghWoiAIBmCPuWvUUbXHofGYaQ8kIUtCbFxCsCJZhxvbyTrOrl2BrjdJ7v_5MMHpCKgstqY-hWkRWjx7AjTSBrxA0/s4000/wild%20rice%20male%20flowers,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2672" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiSH8MgAAq8KMD2n3Qm5ZtryP6OyfcMdccSOBx8Qx5aKlXgqq7gitzHUVcg6wMsznjkIQANjJhQRo-o5FLr_yyF19geYfoche-tXIghWoiAIBmCPuWvUUbXHofGYaQ8kIUtCbFxCsCJZhxvbyTrOrl2BrjdJ7v_5MMHpCKgstqY-hWkRWjx7AjTSBrxA0/w268-h400/wild%20rice%20male%20flowers,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">male flower of wild rice, photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Women and Water Exhibit</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b>A Native American saying, “Water is Life,” is simple, direct and true. It’s also true that in many traditional cultures, women are the protectors of water, because women give birth and are seen as keepers of water. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> My wife Mary Burns recently completed an exhibit entitled <i>Women and Water: Woven Portraits from Around the World</i> to honor women who work globally for the protection of water. The idea for the exhibit began with her connections with a few North American water keepers and water walkers, and the idea spread as she found more and more people across the globe doing important water advocacy and work. They included farmers in Mozambique, scientists, oceanographers, artists, journalists, limnologists, a sea captain in the Kingdom of Tonga, a conservation biologist in the Arctic, and activists in Detroit, India, Peru, and Honduras. All of these women and more are doing essential work for water, for the planet, and for us.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The exhibit features 29 woven portraits representing 39 women and 20 countries, plus the Arctic and Antarctic, and is currently on display through early November at the Northern Great Lakes Visitor Center in Ashland.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #050505;">Mary’s hope is that </span>these women and their stories will encourage all of us to strengthen our own ties with water and inspire us to take action to protect our waters. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I readily admit to being biased, but the exhibit is exceptional and well worth the drive. See <a href="https://manitowishriverstudio.com/women-water/" style="color: #954f72;">https://manitowishriverstudio.com/women-water/</a>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Celestial Events</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">Look tonight, 8/18, for Mars about 2 degrees below the waxing sliver moon. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> As of 8/23, the sun is now rising 60 minutes later than June 22, and setting 60 minutes earlier than June 29. Our days are growing shorter by 3 minutes per day.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> The second full, “Blue,” moon of August occurs on 8/30. This is the year’s closest full moon and will appear 14% larger and 30% brighter than the year’s farthest moon which occurred on Feb. 5. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Quote for the Week</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> “What we hear is the quality of our listening.” – Robert Fripp</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-67465196002077791052023-08-03T14:24:00.002-07:002023-08-03T14:24:42.801-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for August 4- 17, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for August 4- 17, 2023</span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Sightings – Blue-spotted Salamanders, A Musky Tale, and Small-flowered Pond-lilies</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 9pt;"> </span>Greg Bassett in Hazelhurst </span>moved a couple plastic containers in his woodshed and out from under them came three blue-spotted salamanders. He noted, “I've come across a single one this summer on two or three occasions, but the last time I have seen that many together I think was when I was a kid. Definitely one of my summer highlights!!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvOgWsOLO2saAYBA-3x1hJyXku0zWAXHz0xkdigqynbHbgKXy36ND4S1s_2g1_5fcX7N_3reLQrHyL1hoED50akILqbjVwptEhSEu5aa-013SL_ehnygksJs16n_p4g-bn5swMQPFZtJHvBBW9HB23BUO3H8x3awSUWN-qzyV8yYcWEZGLJMUqeXqL9y_U/s2300/blue-spotted%20salamanders%20photo%20by%20Greg%20Bassett.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1553" data-original-width="2300" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvOgWsOLO2saAYBA-3x1hJyXku0zWAXHz0xkdigqynbHbgKXy36ND4S1s_2g1_5fcX7N_3reLQrHyL1hoED50akILqbjVwptEhSEu5aa-013SL_ehnygksJs16n_p4g-bn5swMQPFZtJHvBBW9HB23BUO3H8x3awSUWN-qzyV8yYcWEZGLJMUqeXqL9y_U/w400-h270/blue-spotted%20salamanders%20photo%20by%20Greg%20Bassett.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">blue-spotted salamanders photo by Greg Bassett</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I rarely see blue-spotted salamanders, so seeing three at one time is a fine gift. Blue-spotted salamanders spend their non-breeding time typically in forests beneath moist logs where they consume slugs, earthworms, snails, beetles and other invertebrates. They’re found throughout the state and most of the Midwest and Northeast, as well as Ontario and Quebec.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Carol Pfister sent me a photo that her daughter Shawna took while out for a pontoon ride on Big Crooked Lake. Shawna saw a large dead fish floating near the surface, and when she got close enough to net it, found a 30” musky which apparently choked when trying to eat a bass too large to swallow – see the photo! I seldom write about fish in my column (so many others do it well already), but this seemed uniquely worth reporting.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_GCVyPkff7OzTdRam5k9gePGPBaTs1uuFu2pjLaV54f2oCixPjzyVICVty9sEjV9kYq2LGaSwnzFzLR0hIsJtnylVFK1NfBV6a6Mcz0Ot3sDYvHDmYgughgngAe9XFokIumfT41DxlnnN_MrAM0GjhongwGqYxx_-forjJgFwoaWozqj0AVvzs3aEf8h/s640/musky%20with%20bass%20in%20its%20mouth,%20photo%20by%20Shawna%20Pfister.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_GCVyPkff7OzTdRam5k9gePGPBaTs1uuFu2pjLaV54f2oCixPjzyVICVty9sEjV9kYq2LGaSwnzFzLR0hIsJtnylVFK1NfBV6a6Mcz0Ot3sDYvHDmYgughgngAe9XFokIumfT41DxlnnN_MrAM0GjhongwGqYxx_-forjJgFwoaWozqj0AVvzs3aEf8h/w300-h400/musky%20with%20bass%20in%20its%20mouth,%20photo%20by%20Shawna%20Pfister.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Shawna Pfister</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Many aquatic plants come into their prime flowering in late July and early August, so this is the best time to explore lakes and rivers for their flora. While paddling Moose Lake in Iron County on 7/25 with a group of adult students from Fe University, we came across a species of “special concern” in Wisconsin – small-flowered yellow pond-lily (<i>Nuphar microphylla</i>). Susan Knight, ace aquatic plant biologist, taught the class with me, so she was able to positively identify it. It was previously collected from Moose Lake (but has never been collected anywhere else in Iron County) by Stephen Meyer in 1964, nearly 60 years ago. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBWBxRC70GLF-idnXnV-ix0wjM67GABeP_ZqmmapBrIkQwoPGC0Bm6529KLSpfCmif4fOgesYDPQ1-O3F6davCMZFu2aBJ1nSc7smBr-u4oFnD5jJhYtiyYOMSdf5ZiA-d6l1eOF_OIGlWshAS0biUFQQWpvpRo0VE3mD-lz2SJja9Y-uN0mTMU5trLhZ/s331/Small-flowered%20pond%20lily,%20photo%20by%20Eric%20Epstein.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="272" data-original-width="331" height="329" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBWBxRC70GLF-idnXnV-ix0wjM67GABeP_ZqmmapBrIkQwoPGC0Bm6529KLSpfCmif4fOgesYDPQ1-O3F6davCMZFu2aBJ1nSc7smBr-u4oFnD5jJhYtiyYOMSdf5ZiA-d6l1eOF_OIGlWshAS0biUFQQWpvpRo0VE3mD-lz2SJja9Y-uN0mTMU5trLhZ/w400-h329/Small-flowered%20pond%20lily,%20photo%20by%20Eric%20Epstein.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Eric Epstein</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Susan took a sample of the plant – it was relatively abundant in this one bay – and has since pressed it and will send it to the University of Wisconsin herbarium (see <a href="https://wisflora.herbarium.wisc.edu/index.php" style="color: #954f72;">https://wisflora.herbarium.wisc.edu/index.php</a> for information on plant collections and records from around the state).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Carnivorous Plants In Our Lakes<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> What an absolute pleasure it is to slowly paddle a lake with a terrific botanist like Susan. We paddled Frog Lake on 7/24, again for Fe University (btw: “Fe” stands for “ferrous,” the chemical symbol for iron), and here we found hundreds of lovely purple bladderworts (<i>Utricularia purperea</i>) in bloom. Susan did her PhD on bladderworts, so we were treated to an in-depth look at this rootless, free-floating carnivorous plant that traps and consumes tiny zooplankton. <span style="color: #1c1e21;">You can’t pick a bladderwort flower because you’ll lift the whole plant when you pull it out of the water. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiPuVT4GrszWjrMj-O7W0zEZk_KTWoCmO6X-6t1HdUjAC1592tPXReFLJqCHhnzQgwd4-5HDE9I49AprocYxETW7norWDCMxHu4O6eIDFZcoic6ZZo61JB2UmngFsuC83sdV_5WUURNgltRGE_-YkvatTgRTcfZXDSlH-Aj_oeGMSJtcbGdiBj3hemHS8n/s2262/purple%20bladderwort%207:24:23%20Frog%20Lake.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2133" data-original-width="2262" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiPuVT4GrszWjrMj-O7W0zEZk_KTWoCmO6X-6t1HdUjAC1592tPXReFLJqCHhnzQgwd4-5HDE9I49AprocYxETW7norWDCMxHu4O6eIDFZcoic6ZZo61JB2UmngFsuC83sdV_5WUURNgltRGE_-YkvatTgRTcfZXDSlH-Aj_oeGMSJtcbGdiBj3hemHS8n/w400-h378/purple%20bladderwort%207:24:23%20Frog%20Lake.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Purple bladderwort, photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #1c1e21;"> </span>Bladderworts capture minute organisms in a hollow bladder-like trap enclosing a partial vacuum that is triggered by hairs near its opening. The bladders work a bit like squeezing all the air out of a ball and then letting go, resulting in a sucking inrush of water. Tiny zooplankton like daphnia and rotifers brush against the bladderworts hairs, the compressed bladder releases and sucks in the insect, and an elastic trap door mechanism snaps shut preventing escape. Slick and quick, the whole process takes 1/460 of a second, making bladderworts the fastest moving plants in the world – they are the Usain Bolts of all flora.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Charles Darwin described how well the trap door works, "I may mention that my son found a daphnia which had inserted one of its antennae into the slit, and it was thus held fast during a whole day.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Neltje Blanchan, author of <i>Nature's Garden</i> in 1901, wrote that a sign should be posted above the bladderworts reading, "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> On 7/26, we paddled a third undeveloped Iron County lake – Plunkett Lake – with more Fe students, and here the highlight may well have been how many carnivorous sundews we saw. I’ve written before in this column about these marvelous plants, so please recall that t<span style="background: white;">he drops of “dew” are actually sweet smelling and sticky drops of mucilage that the plant secretes in order to attract its prey. Bugs land on the plant thinking that they have found a sweet meal, but become stuck in the goo. </span>The plant responds by folding its leaves around the prey with the rapidity of response depending on what is being devoured, with more rapid response when the victim is actively struggling.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The captured insect then becomes digested into soluble materials that are absorbed into the leaf cells and later distributed to other parts of the plant.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpy_WqnZj0d3WRXCzcVvwh6_Yjq_ElTxnQpMvO0ua0zn2bPBmzVJpvSjY3_7tcefWoekLxlkJYU3QK45iZ2vB2f6AXcuhGe0HU-YiyhTsQMeeYN3h9kzMqdH1rs-rLsEOZmVeDyNHT7ZyW5lULW9pnDG7qNSZJCzhR1NW2XEtYh4EnJMk-utkCBkFjcm6u/s3199/sundew%20Plunkett%20Lake%20bog%20log.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2624" data-original-width="3199" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpy_WqnZj0d3WRXCzcVvwh6_Yjq_ElTxnQpMvO0ua0zn2bPBmzVJpvSjY3_7tcefWoekLxlkJYU3QK45iZ2vB2f6AXcuhGe0HU-YiyhTsQMeeYN3h9kzMqdH1rs-rLsEOZmVeDyNHT7ZyW5lULW9pnDG7qNSZJCzhR1NW2XEtYh4EnJMk-utkCBkFjcm6u/w400-h328/sundew%20Plunkett%20Lake%20bog%20log.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sundew photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><span class="apple-converted-space"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Charles Darwin was utterly fascinated by insectivorous plants, particularly sundews, and published a lengthy book on them in 1875. He is famously quoted as saying in 1860, one year after publishing <i>The Origin of Species</i>: “At the moment, I care more about <i>Drosera</i> [sundews] than the origin of all the species in the world.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Carniverous plants play a wonderful role reversal in nature, the plant eating the animal, that would be lustily cheered by plants everywhere could they but shout. We were cheered just to see them and to understand a bit about how they live their lives.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Update to Voyageurs Wolf Project – Wolves Fishing</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Excerpted from the Voyageurs Wolf Project: “Big takeaway from our newly-published research: wolves hunting and catching fish is almost certainly a widespread behavior in places similar to the Greater Voyageurs Ecosystem. That means wolves are very likely ‘fishing' in places like Wisconsin, Michigan, Ontario, Quebec, Manitoba and beyond each and every year!</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">We first learned of wolves hunting fish (spawning suckers) in 2017 when two wolves in the Bowman Bay Pack ‘fished’ . . . This was the first documented observations of wolves hunting freshwater fish in places like Minnesota . . . </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “Zoom forward 7 years and we have now documented wolves hunting and catching fish every year except 2022 (when we had large flooding which likely made catching fish very difficult). That means we have documented wolves fishing 6 out of 7 years since 2017!</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “We have used an assortment of approaches to document this behavior including GPS-collar data, a single firsthand observation, trail cameras deployed at creeks, and a camera collar deployed on a wolf.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “Using all this info, we have observed wolves from 5 different packs (and one lone wolf!) catching fish at various creeks and rivers in our area . . </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “Based on this, we conclude that wolves ‘fishing’ is almost certainly a widespread behavior and that wolves in many similar ecosystems very likely hunt and catch fish every year, [though] wolves only fish for a relatively short period of time (a few weeks).”</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> August 6<sup>th</sup> marks the midway point between summer solstice and fall equinox. We receive 14 ½ hours of sunlight this day.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Look before dawn on 8/8 for Jupiter about 3 degrees below the moon.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The famed Perseids are building to a spectacular peak on 8/13 that could boast roughly 100 meteors per hour. Viewing conditions will be nearly perfect, too. Predawn is usually best.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The new moon occurs on 8/16, and it will be at apogee, the farthest from the Earth in 2023 – 252,671 miles.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Only Getting Hotter</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> June 2023 was Earth's hottest June on record. Ocean surface temperatures hit a record high for the third month in a row as global sea ice shrank to a record low for June. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Canada helped add to the data. After experiencing their warmest May on record, Canada also had their warmest June on record along with drought conditions which have fed all the fires they are experiencing. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span>Meanwhile, the heat in July has already been so extreme that it is “virtually certain” this month will break records “by a significant margin,” the European Union’s Copernicus Climate Change Service and the World Meteorological Organization said in a report published on 7/27. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">“We have just lived through the hottest three-week-period on record.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> And t<span style="background: white; color: #121212;">he surface ocean temperature in the waters of Manatee Bay at Everglades National Park around the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span>Florida Keys<span style="background: white; color: #121212;"> soared to 101.19°F on 7/24, the temperature at which people typically take a hot tub. At this time of year, the water should be between 73 and 88 degrees.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Sales in 2023 up 47% for Electric Vehicles </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Some good news – in the first half of 2023, U.S. customers bought 556,707 electric vehicles, which was up 47 percent from the first half of last year, according to Kelley Blue Book.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> EV market share was 7.2 percent of the U.S. market for cars and light trucks, which was up from 5.7 percent in 2022 and 3.1 percent in 2021.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Electric vehicles are a harder sell up here in the Northwoods with our long winters and long distances between small towns. But in cities with kinder winters and numerous charging stations, they make a ton of sense. Our eldest daughter lives in San Diego and just installed solar collectors on her roof. She says her next car will be all electric, fueled for free from her rooftop array. Gotta love it.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Quote for the Week</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “We have lived our lives by the assumption that what was good for us would be good for the world. We have been wrong. We must change our lives so that it will be possible to live by the contrary assumption, that what is good for the world will be good for us. And that requires that we make the effort to know the world and learn what is good for it.” – Wendell Berry</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-22432446171779369762023-07-08T19:17:00.000-07:002023-07-08T19:17:20.744-07:00 A Northwoods Almanac for July 7 – 20, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for July 7 – 20, 2023</span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Old Roads</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> One way to beat the mosquito legions waiting in the woods for hikers is to outrun them. Mary and I have been doing just that by bicycling on sections of the 52-mile-long bike trail – the Heart of Vilas County Bike Trail – that runs from Mercer to St. Germain. The part of the trail we customarily ride starts right out our door in Manitowish and runs south and east into Manitowish Waters and then toward Boulder Junction.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Along the way, the trail briefly utilizes Plunkett Road, which was repaved a few years ago to accommodate bike traffic. When we moved here in 1984, it was quite different. The road was one of our favorites to walk, in large part because it was slowly being reclaimed by nature. Plants were taking over, and the road was destined for eventual reclamation into the woodland it had once been.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> I wrote a story about the road in 1993 that was published in the book <i>Harvest Moon: A Wisconsin Outdoor Anthology</i>, edited by Ted Rulseh (Ted now writes a column in the Lakeland Times, “The Lake Where You Live,” which is well worth your time). I’m a believer in the quote “A place is a space with a story.” Every old road, old house, old field, has a story, and each enriches our understanding of all who came before us, and how the Northwoods has become what it is in 2023.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> So, for those who bicycle or walk the Heart of Vilas County Bike Trail and traverse Plunkett Road, here is some of its story :</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="background: white;">Plunkett Road (1993)</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span>I am drawn to roads that appear to start nowhere and go nowhere, roads whose purpose is remembered only in a few elderly hearts and minds, and then rather dimly. The Northwoods, like any rural place, is home to many of these once vital highways. The value of each may have been as small as providing access to one homesteader's cabin, or as large as carrying traffic to a whole region. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> These roads could of course tell stories, if the crumbling asphalt had such an inclination. Part of the pleasure in walking them today is in trying to read the intentions and dreams of those who used them. Once arteries in people’s lives, they have been reduced to the smallest capillaries. But that only serves to intensify the exploratory questions that often arise on a quiet, early morning hike.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Plunkett Road is such a road, just a mile south of our home in the tiny crossroads of Manitowish. The lane that's left today runs just under a mile, a small cutoff segment of what was once Highway 51. Only blackberry pickers and grouse hunters use it now, and then only in season. The old road sprouts alder and willow, and the asphalt is heaved up in hummocks, bursting the roadway in slow, concentrated earthquakes. Here geology comes alive as hard rock and tar evolve into soft green. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Old Highway 51 once carried the trade and tourists of the North along this section, until engineers felt compelled to straighten the curves and increase the speed of entry into the north country. My father-in-law laughs about the first roads he drove on to reach Manitowish where his wife was raised. “The roads followed the contours of the land,” he says, shaking his head. “Never could get over 35 miles per hour.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In those days, you did not travel north and back in a weekend rush. You came and stayed a while. The roads allowed few other options, respecting land ownership, bowing to nature's eccentric formations of bog and highland, rolling and curving free from the modern slavery to speed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The Plunkett family homesteaded back off the road before the first asphalt was laid, before the first yellow line drawn. Their life has no remarkable twists to it that I’m aware of, but as with everyone who first struggled to plow ground and find a living in an area where nothing was easy, it is remarkable just in itself. I know only the barest pieces of their story. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Jim Plunkett logged in the area in the late 1800's, probably as a jobber for the Chippewa Lumber and Boom Co. As all loggers did in those times, he had his own log marking hammer. His mark, "YPJ," was registered Feb. 3, 1892. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Mrs. Plunkett moved from Eau Claire to the homestead at the turn of the century and was famous later in her life for requiring visitors to come in and have tea, whether the visitor wished to or not. Her home was the only one along that stretch of road, and there may as well have been a barricade stopping travelers in front of her house. To pass by without stopping for a visit just wasn't neighborly. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Her three boys, Bill, Jim, and Matt, remained at the homestead after she died. Bill and Jim were bachelors, spending their lives on the homestead, and leaving no heirs. The house lacked polish after their mother died in the early thirties. One gentleman has written to me to describe the inside of the house: “The partitions had never been finished to define the various rooms, and the paint to protect it was purchased, but remained in the cans.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Bill carved out a little farm along the river, had cows and horses and a big garden, and plowed for those who wouldn't or couldn't. He was a small Irishman with a squeaky, high voice that ran too fast. Later in his life a friend described him as having pure white hair and flashing blue eyes, looking as Santa Claus might during his 11-month off-season.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Matt, the third son, bought a cabin on a point of tall pines along the river a few hundred yards from the homestead, and rented it to tourists. Matt eventually married and moved to the town of Manitowish, but had no children. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Today the foundation of Matt's cabin sinks slowly into the sandy soil. Old white pines encircle the remains, and eagles hunt from branches that arch out toward the river. Snakes hide in the rotted wood and rock foundation rubble, while otters enjoy dinners under the pines, their crayfish-impregnated droppings attesting to their presence.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I know precious little else about the Plunketts. Why would they leave such a beautiful spot to no one, and why would no relations arise to take the land and work with it again? That is all part of the intrigue of the road now.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Highway 51, in its present form, was straightened and rerouted in the early 1950's. Today Plunkett Road is roughly a half-circle, entering and exiting directly onto Hwy. 51, with street signs at either end that are impossible for motorists speeding by at 55 mph to read. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> A tangled cedar swamp lies between Matt's cabin and another highland of pines, which was recently logged. Rows of scotch pine, planted by the DNR in the 1960's, stand at an even height near the homestead site. A little dirt lane leads into the homestead, and the land is still open, as if the forces of old field succession have held off to honor the spot. The skeleton of a massive old willow rises below the home site, providing pileated woodpeckers the raw material for sculpting future nest cavities. Along the bank of the river are old bottles and cans, the bachelors having deposited their garbage, as was the custom of the time, by throwing it over the hill leading down to the river.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The river too has changed. The main channel once flowed along the length of the homestead, but its course has shifted away from the road. Now a slough calmly rests here, a safe haven for wood ducks and muskrat and painted turtles. A beaver lodge sprawls in the shallows, and the skinned, pale white branches of aspen and alder which once made up the beaver's winter cache, bob along the banks. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Both the road and river are backwaters now; they’ve lost their flow of traffic, but gained other lives in the loss. The process of change has continually reshaped this spot over the thousands of years since the glacier's retreat. In land, for every loss there is gain for some other community of species. The value judgments, good or bad, given to this exchange are a concern only of humans, and then often a matter of hot debate. That this land is reverting to a wild state though is certain, and for me, a gain. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> An eagle's nest across river from the slough first drew us here 12 years ago. We have watched the nest every spring since then. Three years ago it was gone, apparently blown down in a winter storm. We searched the big pines up and down the river, and within two weeks found a new nest coarsely woven in a tall pine several hundred yards upriver from the blowdown.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The spring of 1991 was the first that no eagles nested across from the Plunkett homestead. Loggers were back along Matt's point harvesting wood the required 1/4 mile away from the nest. But across the river and the marsh leading to the nest, the sights and sounds surely carried as if they were close by. Possibly the eagles nested elsewhere, but not within our eyesight. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Other wildlife, though, have adopted the area. Kestrels perch on the old phone wires to hunt mice and insects in the roadside ditches and weedy fields. Grouse flush from the young aspen, the new pioneers of the land near Matt's cabin. Red fox excavations are hollowed into the hillside sand rising from the river. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The land is healing. One lane of the road is nearly indistinguishable from the ditch in places, and where the healing is slower, the road is gently breaking up in chunks. In late April, wood frogs and spring peepers chorus from the wetlands along the road, and migrating ducks rest in the slough. By early summer, purple knapweed, mullein, and silvery cinquefoil push up through the broken blacktop, and the road smells curiously of hot asphalt and humus. By early August, blackberry canes laden with fruit lean over the decaying road edge, and the river is often so low that canoeists scrape the sandy bottom as they pass by the homestead. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Walking this road now grants me an understanding of place and order, of time and hope. I see tiny seedlings that withstood years of darkness and crushing weight germinate and gradually burst through the asphalt. Over time, the plants’ powers are imposing, yet, in an instant, their strength can’t be felt against the hand. Physical law would seem to say such small lives could not push through tar and rock, but growth and reclamation go on here every day, without fanfare or machinery or sweat. The inexorable drive, the life force, even in the small mosses, is Herculean. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Each time I walk on Plunkett Road I am inspired. I take home with me the resolve, the prayer to be as strong as the emerging plants and mosses, knowing if I find such strength of will, I too might have breakthroughs in places I thought beyond my reach.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> On 7/11, look in the southeast before dawn for Jupiter about two degrees below the waning crescent moon. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The new moon occurs on 7/17.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The average daytime temperature during the period from July 8 to July 28 is the warmest of the year – 78°.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b>“The coolest most amazing people I have met in my life are the ones who are not very interested in power or money, but who are very interested in laughter and courage and grace under duress and holding hands against the darkness, and finding new ways to solve old problems, and being attentive and tender and kind to every sort of being, especially dogs and birds, and of course children.” – Brian Doyle<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-19038524113718038042023-06-22T12:58:00.000-07:002023-06-22T12:58:36.634-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for June 23, 2023<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for June 23 – July 6, 2023</span></b><span style="background: white;"> by John Bates<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Sightings – Blue Flag Iris, Blue-eyed Grass, Dragon’s Mouth Orchid, Fireflies, Cottongrass<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">6/2: Fireflies began flashing in the wetlands below our house in Manitowish on June 2. This is an event that always mesmerizes me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">6/8: We found our first dragon’s mouth orchids blooming off of a dike in Powell Marsh.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">6/10: Mary and I found our first blue flag irises in flower, as well as many blue-eyed grass flowers in bloom.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">6/11: Cottongrass erupted in Powell Marsh along Hwy. 47, turning the vast wetlands into a virtual snowstorm of flowers. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">6/15: I heard my first mink frogs calling from a wetland in the Van Vliet Hemlocks SNA.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Moths!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Summertime brings out a host of insect species, and one of the most fascinating groups are the moths. Mary and I saw four different moth species during the day on 6/4 - snowberry clearwing sphinx and white-lined sphinx moths in our azaleas, and rosy maple moth and twin-spotted sphinx moth resting on our neighbor’s house and garage walls. All four are strikingly beautiful and intriguing, and we were excited to see them. The three sphinx moth species all feed on nectar while hovering and have extremely good night vision.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QmF9GrbmQdUbtB2ZJq0k7d2ljt491gsGrNHJ59Ay0N4-OkMRKCI2KMqKDGHj3mapn1K8F1sk6-VXfQEKManuJVozgBboTNn4DePdB8DRaq4P9GGUhJOLghERM4DJ63mgmPOSRlSrIhgDsoWEMdm1SqI32h54ZdDWJXX5KP105l-KbVkBqGDxwDmnIe2m/s2950/rosy%20maple%20moth,%20photo%20by%20Mary%20Burns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2950" data-original-width="1694" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QmF9GrbmQdUbtB2ZJq0k7d2ljt491gsGrNHJ59Ay0N4-OkMRKCI2KMqKDGHj3mapn1K8F1sk6-VXfQEKManuJVozgBboTNn4DePdB8DRaq4P9GGUhJOLghERM4DJ63mgmPOSRlSrIhgDsoWEMdm1SqI32h54ZdDWJXX5KP105l-KbVkBqGDxwDmnIe2m/w230-h400/rosy%20maple%20moth,%20photo%20by%20Mary%20Burns.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rosy-maple moth, photo by Mary Burns</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Moths are categorized along with butterflies in the order Lepidoptera, but moth species far outnumber butterfly species. Somewhere around 2,000 species of moths can be found in the Northwoods, while butterfly species only number around 120. And for my money, many of the moth species rank right up there in beauty with our most stunning butterflies – think of the luna moth, the cecropia moth or the io moth!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1StKoyILORpu163Q_4nALgMLi-UUWhfKLWiQvXy3kJ_fo0CuB4mXKaAig5iYejac9_B1GIgr_6bAWxzCP2c2ApNwS_-7KkKKH5XJ2EjqNKwJq-aKNt28RCRATJsMuFMDm7S98Ijj1zvPmqisgrhhZwQ3qPHkybwQRGXc3bmMO7R90pDg6qD3_JD_I_iKa/s1541/white-lined%20sphinx%20moth,%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1541" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1StKoyILORpu163Q_4nALgMLi-UUWhfKLWiQvXy3kJ_fo0CuB4mXKaAig5iYejac9_B1GIgr_6bAWxzCP2c2ApNwS_-7KkKKH5XJ2EjqNKwJq-aKNt28RCRATJsMuFMDm7S98Ijj1zvPmqisgrhhZwQ3qPHkybwQRGXc3bmMO7R90pDg6qD3_JD_I_iKa/w400-h249/white-lined%20sphinx%20moth,%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">white-lined sphinx moth, photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Moths range in size from little bigger than mosquitoes to bird-sized, and all go through a complete metamorphosis from egg to larva (caterpillars) to pupa to adults. The caterpillars can be equally beautiful as the adults, though often in an over-the-top manner, coming in a wild array of colors, sizes, shapes, patterning, texture, and hairiness.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_vF7-On8UdiMx-XSQ1UByZckkCs_R54JZ-AOS5ZKjeDLsnxqT1HSC-se6d-cMTkcnsg7fgTlHpvy50JtADWWLuPLkzceoOa6FPoVBfUdnJDaM-XUcXqwrPt3o8drwrZK-Q5OBtxP5_fYXsZgbB0aGvcMzCYQxEr3RkpBimCeG_lEopOzywvXc_5RSbEV/s2506/Snowberry%20Clearwing%20moth%206:4:23%20Maniowish%20on%20Azaleas,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2308" data-original-width="2506" height="369" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_vF7-On8UdiMx-XSQ1UByZckkCs_R54JZ-AOS5ZKjeDLsnxqT1HSC-se6d-cMTkcnsg7fgTlHpvy50JtADWWLuPLkzceoOa6FPoVBfUdnJDaM-XUcXqwrPt3o8drwrZK-Q5OBtxP5_fYXsZgbB0aGvcMzCYQxEr3RkpBimCeG_lEopOzywvXc_5RSbEV/w400-h369/Snowberry%20Clearwing%20moth%206:4:23%20Maniowish%20on%20Azaleas,%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">snowberry clearwing moth, photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> We gardeners are inundated with information on the importance of bees in pollination, and the need to plant bee-friendly, native flowers. But recent research on moths’ role in plant pollination suggests moths are every bit as important as bees, if not more so. A 2019 study looked at moths and bees in community gardens in Leeds, England, during the growing season and found that moths play a larger role in pollination than once thought. In fact, the moths carried pollen from a more diverse array of species than the bees during the midsummer, accounting for a third of all plant-pollinator visits studied.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The researchers suggest that supporting the introduction of plant species that are beneficial for moths, as well as bees, will become increasingly important.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> See </span><a href="http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2023/06/230605181342.htm" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white; color: black;">www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2023/06/230605181342.htm</span></a><span style="background: white;">. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Fewer Birds at Your Feeders?<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Numerous people have been reporting seeing fewer birds at their feeders, and wondering if something was amiss. Well, something certainly could be amiss, but mid-June is when most adult birds are feeding their chicks, all who need an enormous amount of protein to go from a blind, featherless chick to a fledged juvenile in less than two weeks. Sunflower seeds are a good source of protein and fat, but not as good as insects. Adults feed their chicks thousands of insects, in particular caterpillars, which contain more protein by weight than beef. Fully 96% of our terrestrial birds primarily feed their hatchlings insects, and that’s why fewer birds are at our feeders in June. Once the hatchlings fledge, and protein needs are reduced, more activity should resume at everyone’s feeders. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Update on Isle Royale Wolf and Moose Populations<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white;">You may recall that in 2018 the National Park Service released a long awaited<span class="apple-converted-space"> “</span></span>record of decision” calling <span style="background: white;">for the introduction of 20 to 30 wolves over a three-to-five-year period onto Isle Royale National Park in Michigan. The wolf population had been declining for years, dwindling to just two wolves that were incapable of breeding, leaving moose without a predator. </span>The moose population had grown exponentially to over 2,000, and their overbrowsing of vegetation was a huge concern to the park service. The only way to solve that was to bring back the predator balance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> In order to restore balance, the NPS </span>staff put a restoration plan in motion beginning with the capture and transportation of four wolves from the Grand Portage Indian Reservation in Minnesota during fall 2018. The Park Service then partnered with the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry to transport more wolves from Canada and with the Michigan Department of Natural Resources to bring additional wolves to the park in 2019. The wolves were captured in the wild and set loose on the island with tracking collars for monitoring.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Now in 2023, the gray wolves are thriving, and the park's moose population continues a sharp but needed decline – their overpopulation was causing their own starvation as they outstripped their primary winter food – balsam fir trees.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The scientists' annual report, based largely on aerial observations last winter, estimated the rebuilt population at 31 wolves – up from 28 last year. The wolves appeared to be forming three packs, with others wandering alone or in smaller groups. The moose total was roughly 967, down from 1,346 last year and 54% decline from about 2,000 in 2019. Ecologists are celebrating what they hope will be a healthier herd. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Of the 19 wolves ultimately brought from Minnesota, Ontario’s Michipicoten Island and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in 2018-19, only a few are believed still alive, which makes sense given that wild wolves seldom live longer than five years. But their descendants are believed to have produced at least seven litters of pups, and the process of reaching a general but fluctuating ecological equilibrium continues.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Moose in Da U.P.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Speaking of moose, the Michigan DNR has been surveying the western U.P.’s core moose population since 1997, typically every other winter. The 2023 survey marks the first survey completed since 2019 due to scheduling conflicts associated with the COVID-19 pandemic.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> What did they find? “The 2023 moose survey estimate was 426 individuals, which is not statistically different from the 2019 estimate of 509 individuals. This continues the trend of plateauing abundance where population growth over the last 12 years is now less than 1%.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The western U.P. moose core range covers about 1,400 square miles in parts of Marquette, Baraga, and Iron counties. Moose were translocated there from Canada in two separate efforts in 1985 and 1987.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Turtles Laying Eggs<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> We saw our first snappers and painted turtles laying eggs on June 4. Snappers lay an average clutch size of 30 to 35 spherical eggs according to one study. The gender of the young is temperature dependent – males are produced when temperatures are lower in the summer, females when temperatures are higher.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Average incubation time in a study in Michigan was 93 days, and in one Pennsylvania study over 20 years, only 27% of the young emerged in the fall – 73% emerged the following spring. However, in Wisconsin, the emergence rate and overwintering strategy is unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Painted turtles have a clutch size from 4 to 20 oblong eggs, and have a similar temperature-dependent sex determination to that of snappers – cold temps yield more males, warm temps yield more females.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Painteds can produce two clutches in a year. Hatchlings from the first clutch emerge in September, while hatchlings from a later second clutch typically over-winter and emerge the following spring.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Loon Chicks Hatching<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Walter Piper (see loonproject.org) reports that the first loon chicks began hatching around June 11. He notes in his 6/13 blog that “2023 was a miserable year for black flies. But loon pairs that laid eggs in mid-May and kept incubating them despite fly harassment are getting their reward this week.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Many loon pairs had to abandon their nests due to the black flies, but once the flies died back, most pairs have renested. Thus, you may see loons still incubating eggs in late June to early July – incubation typically lasts 28 to 30 days.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Piper also noted that the female loon on Little Bearskin Lake hatched out two chicks, a particularly exciting success story given that she is estimated to be 34 years old and their oldest study animal. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Grape Jelly – Good for Toast But Not for Birds<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Raptor Education Group Inc. (REGI), the superb Antigo bird rehabilitation facility, reported admitting three adult ruby-throated hummingbirds from different areas within a two-hour period in late May. “They were covered in grape jelly. One patient was deceased on arrival; the others are alive but struggling. Other hummingbirds were admitted earlier in the month, and there is little doubt more will follow.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Grape jelly becomes a problem in hot weather when it becomes runny and adheres to birds’ body, feet and feathers. Feeding jelly during the cooler weather of spring migration is okay, but not once the weather turns hot. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">July 4<sup>th</sup> Fireworks<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Every year I ask folks to discontinue the use of loud fireworks because of the disruption to birds who are still on their nests, and for that matter, the disruption in general of every species of wild or domesticated animal. I know every dog we’ve ever owned cowers in fear of the explosions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> It’s also disrespectful to anyone suffering from PTSD.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> If there’s a way for all of us to enjoy quieter, more colorful fireworks and end the barrage of booms and bangs, I think all wildlife would thank us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">Our latest sunsets of the year occur at 8:53 from June 23 to 29, and then on June 30, the sun will set one minute earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> For planet watching in July, look after dusk low in the west-northwest for brilliant Venus, and look low in the west for Mars. Before dawn, look for Jupiter high in the southeast, and Saturn in the south.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The full moon occurs on July 3. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> On July 6, the earth will be at aphelion, the farthest from the sun for 2023 – 94.5 million miles. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “To love a person or place is to take responsibility for its well-being.” – Kathleen Dean Moore</span><b><span style="background: white;"> <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white; color: black;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-30256854154198800532023-06-09T11:16:00.002-07:002023-06-09T11:16:40.738-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for June 9, 2023<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for June 9 – 22, 2023 </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Sturgeon Spawning on the Manitowish River</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> On May 20, Mary and I watched sturgeon spawning on the Manitowish River, the first time in the 39 years we’ve lived in Manitowish that we finally got the timing right to see this event! The sturgeon were spawning on the other side of the river, so we weren’t able to stand on the bank right next to them, but with our binoculars, we got a good eyeful. We weren’t disappointed – we saw lots of big fins arching out of the water with occasional excited splashing by the males, and now and again a sturgeon surfaced to give us a true sense of their size.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span>Spawning usually begins when the water temperature reaches 53°F in high water, and 58°F in low water. Groups of males arrive ahead of the females, frequently cruising so close to the surface that their tails, backs, and snouts are out of the water. When a ripe female enters the group, spawning begins. As she drops her eggs, the males swim alongside her and thrash their tails as they release milt (sperm). The one-eighth inch diameter fertilized eggs are sticky, and cling to the rocks until they hatch some 8 to 10 days later. <span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Even though one female may produce from 50,000 to 700,000 eggs, sturgeon remain rare because the eggs are eaten by crayfish, redhorse, carp, and even the adult sturgeon. Or the eggs are lost to dropping water levels, like the extreme lows the river is currently suffering, or to a fungus that can grow on the masses of eggs. Less than one in a thousand will typically survive to the one-third inch long larval stage.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I spoke with Zach Lawson, fisheries biologist for the WDNR in Iron and Ashland counties, regarding the current status of sturgeon in the Manitowish River. For over 30 years, fisheries biologists have been working to restore sturgeon populations on the Manitowish and Bear rivers, as well as the Turtle-Flambeau Flowage. They’ve stocked tens of thousands of fry in four or five stocking events, with 2015 the most recent year. They’ve also been tagging sturgeon for the last 20 years, and are now analyzing their data to evaluate whether their efforts have created a self-sustaining population. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> One of the problems in determining success is that so far they haven’t been able to say whether natural recruitment is happening – females don’t reach sexual maturity until they are around 25 years old and are 55 inches long, and then they only spawn every four to six years. So, there’s a wait involved from when a released fry matures into sexual maturity. Still, some should have spawned by now, but how to determine this?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> A proposed study will hopefully be funded this year that will use a spectrometer to look at cells from the sturgeon’s pectoral fins to find the microchemistry signature of the water the sturgeon have lived in. A hatchery-raised fish will show a different signature than a fish raised solely in one of the rivers or the TFF, so they’ll know if any young are being produced through natural reproduction.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The larger question is when a population can be considered fully “restored.” How many individual fish are needed, where should they be spawning, and how much natural recruitment must be taking place first before the “all clear” signal can be given?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> As the biologists learn more, I’ll pass their findings along. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Greg Holt who lives on Benson Lake just downstream from the spawning site, is part of a volunteer “ sturgeon watch” group. He was on patrol in his canoe when he came upon some sturgeon thrashing about in the rapids and took pictures, one of which I’ve attached to this article.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2x3MEZkIOKbAY2PNqUF_npdUEU2mjP7H4CSr9T-azDarfLZkRiKQ4oFMGF92KsNrT8gq7VDcmzWHyooWa1ra5QhJz-wYAIGox_1W8hIJtp1XIXyunUd4eRQQibAiITqBAvKs6HLFy4FSQXxTCVHOz9rrs0yow4IvGHw08QyGJvj_Y-0ZeNB5hLurYw/s2869/lake%20sturgeon%20spawning%20photo%20on%20the%20Manitowish%20River%20by%20Greg%20Holt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2869" data-original-width="2682" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2x3MEZkIOKbAY2PNqUF_npdUEU2mjP7H4CSr9T-azDarfLZkRiKQ4oFMGF92KsNrT8gq7VDcmzWHyooWa1ra5QhJz-wYAIGox_1W8hIJtp1XIXyunUd4eRQQibAiITqBAvKs6HLFy4FSQXxTCVHOz9rrs0yow4IvGHw08QyGJvj_Y-0ZeNB5hLurYw/w374-h400/lake%20sturgeon%20spawning%20photo%20on%20the%20Manitowish%20River%20by%20Greg%20Holt.jpg" width="374" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Greg Holt</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Mosquitoes!</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Holy smokes! Battalions of the little beasts hatched out in in the last week of May and have driven quite a few folks indoors, or into wearing a head net wherever they go. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> While this seems like a particularly intense hatch, the last week of May and the first few weeks of June are always notorious for producing swarms of mosquitoes. Some folks, however, seem to fair better than others in this battle, mostly depending on the habitat in which they live and the care in which they eliminate standing water around their home.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The good news is that significant dragonfly hatches began around us on June 1, and will continue to increase. While they’ll never create a mosquito-less Northwoods, they do make a difference. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Mosquito populations also generally decline as the summer progresses – July is much better than June, and August is way better than July. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> So, hang in there. The hordes will gradually diminish. No need to spray everything with chemicals that not only kill the skeeters, but also kill all the dragonflies, butterflies, moths, and other insects on your property, and often also kill the birds who eat the dying insects. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Use your repellants. Wear a head net. Grit your teeth for the next couple weeks, and this too shall pass, or at least become tolerable. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Nesting Time</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">In mid-June, nearly every bird species that resides in the Northwoods is either sitting on a nest and incubating eggs, or feeding their nestlings. The only exception I’m aware of is the American goldfinch, which nests in July. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> It’s a critical time period, and one where we should all want to do what we can to not disturb them.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Most songbird nestlings grow at an astonishingly fast rate. The young of smaller songbirds like most of the warblers, sparrows, vireos, and wrens, begin life naked and blind, but become fully feathered and fledge within 10 to 12 days of their hatching. That’s amazing! Even some of the larger songbirds like Baltimore orioles, scarlet tanagers, and red-winged blackbirds fledge their young at 11 to 14 days.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> It takes a lot of protein to accomplish this growth in such a short timeframe, and it’s all provided by the parents flying back and forth endlessly to feed the gaping mouths of their chicks. For intsance, according to entomologist Doug Tallamy, it takes between 6,000 and 9,000 caterpillars to rear one family of young chickadees. These chicks do not eat seeds; they can only eat insects. Both chickadee parents feed the hungry chicks, carrying a caterpillar (or two or three) to the nest about once every three minutes, 14 hours or more per day for two weeks or more. That’s more than 300 caterpillars per day. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Birds not only eat enormous numbers of insects, they help control insect populations. Edward Howe Forbush, an ornithologist who lived from 1858 to 1929, wrote this regarding the value of chickadees: </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “In 1894, my small orchard became very seriously infested with canker-worms, tent-caterpillars, codling-moths and gypsy moths. No attempt was made to protect the trees from their enemies until the fall, when numbers of birds were attracted to the orchard. Immense numbers of the eggs of the fall canker-worm moth and the tent-caterpillar moth were already deposited upon the trees, and toward spring large numbers of spring canker-worm moths began to ascend the trees and lay their eggs. So many chickadees and nuthatches were attracted to the orchard during the winter that they destroyed nearly all the insects and their eggs, and during the next season, which proved to be one of great insect multiplication, my orchard was the only one in the neighborhood which produced a good crop of fruit, while most of those in town produced little or no fruit.”</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> So, figure out what birds are nesting on your property, and read-up on how they raise their young. You may look at your property and bird life very differently after that. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Sightings (FOY – First of Year)</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> 5/23: I heard my FOY Eastern gray tree frogs. And we had a yellow-headed blackbird visit our feeders, who stayed then for four days.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrKyIU9ikriFASUwl3MjyCvqd_w266-atdiFH_5rqnkSV0met3Og0oeI7M9X4wRQXVcV6XeMH1WpHASeLmaaHEetGFMb3fQNElRhElUMbFq7398ZGgwbVWW7THMh-BqhNCqDEnVomOShgDZ8TSTH1pooPshrRpTMYDeuz-7EmKplQbMYbwSVNlYkJcA/s1019/yellow-headed%20blackbird,%20Manitowish%205:25:23.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1019" data-original-width="958" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrKyIU9ikriFASUwl3MjyCvqd_w266-atdiFH_5rqnkSV0met3Og0oeI7M9X4wRQXVcV6XeMH1WpHASeLmaaHEetGFMb3fQNElRhElUMbFq7398ZGgwbVWW7THMh-BqhNCqDEnVomOShgDZ8TSTH1pooPshrRpTMYDeuz-7EmKplQbMYbwSVNlYkJcA/s320/yellow-headed%20blackbird,%20Manitowish%205:25:23.JPG" width="301" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> 5/24: Cedar waxwings returned right on cue with the flowering of our crabapple trees. Every year they arrive within a day or two of the trees coming into flower, and they eat the flower petals. In addition to cedar waxwings, the list of birds that eat flowers includes the northern cardinal, house and purple finches, northern mockingbirds, blue jays, evening grosbeaks, American goldfinches, and ruffed grouse. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFH2tl3RCo8sz9QWHD0HHXTtIh4llj4SYZYrNFUOwxckidwvn6_W1NrzPjqcCFC4RhFwF2ukSXdS5XkIHyNerRNWXE6k1Rx_6zsVd5P3ouX06rtptzCLro_EA53YiBv5CIEPyJH7BR0eevD3hOAoQWHOgHLCy8N0kqeBYfhL1aKOJu8iVGgS9JBxNQVA/s2030/cedar%20waxwing%20eating%20forming%20serviceberries,%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1957" data-original-width="2030" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFH2tl3RCo8sz9QWHD0HHXTtIh4llj4SYZYrNFUOwxckidwvn6_W1NrzPjqcCFC4RhFwF2ukSXdS5XkIHyNerRNWXE6k1Rx_6zsVd5P3ouX06rtptzCLro_EA53YiBv5CIEPyJH7BR0eevD3hOAoQWHOgHLCy8N0kqeBYfhL1aKOJu8iVGgS9JBxNQVA/w400-h385/cedar%20waxwing%20eating%20forming%20serviceberries,%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cedar waxwing eating serviceberries, photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Some eat the flowers, some eat the buds. I read of an account in the 1870s where several towns in Massachusetts paid a 25-cent bounty on ruffed grouse. These bounties were established because apple farmers believed the grouse’s habit of eating buds reduced their fruit crops. As late as 1922, New Hampshire paid farmers $70,000 for alleged grouse damage to fruit trees.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Every bud, of course, contains the leaves, the flower and ultimately the fruit, so eating buds is a real issue. I’m not so sure, however, that eating the flower petals harms the fruit. The petals serve to attract pollinators to the center of the flower where the male anthers provide the pollen and the female ovary resides. If the birds are only eating the petals, they’re diminishing the advertising value of the flower to insects, but not necessarily doing any damage to the ovary, which once pollinated, becomes the fruit. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> 5/27: I saw my FOY fawn.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> 5/28: Saw my FOY Canada Tiger Swallowtail butterfly.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">And in rapid succession, a number of trees and shrubs have come into bloom on our property from 5/28 to 6/1: Nannyberry, high-bush cranberry, pagoda dogwood, black cherry, currants, and mountain ash. Concurrently, a number have already bloomed and gone by: apple, crabapple, pear, plum, and rhododendron. We also saw our FOY wild roses on Powell Marsh on 6/1, and the calla lilies there are blooming in profusion. In the sandy woods around us, starflower, blueberries, barren strawberry, bunchberry, and Canada mayflower are also blooming lavishly.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Iron County Bird Count </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Earlier this spring, Bruce Bacon, retired DNR wildlife manager, and I came up with the idea that Iron County should have its own bird count in order to document what species reside here, and by doing so, set a baseline for comparative counts into the future. We contacted folks we know who love to bird, and 16 of us ventured out early on the morning of 5/24 to survey four general areas we thought would offer us the best opportunities to find birds. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> We weren’t counting total numbers of individual birds, but rather just totaling the number of species. We had a good morning – 124 species graced us with either songs, their physical presence, or both!</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Highlights included finding 22 species of warblers and five species of thrushes, but one of our groups missed some species we might have seen at Saxon Harbor if it wasn’t for a strong and cold wind coming in off the lake.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> We birded from 6 a.m. to noon in five separate groups, and though many of us thought it was a relatively quiet morning, we still found a very good representation of the birds that nest in our area.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Celestial Events</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> The year’s earliest sunrises commence today, June 9 at 5:08 a.m., and continue until June 22, when the sun will begin rising one minute later.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> On 6/14, look before dawn for Jupiter 1.5 degrees below the waning sliver moon. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> On 6/16/1963, a Soviet woman, Valentina Tereshkova, became the first woman to fly in space, orbiting the Earth 48 times. She flew for three days, and is the only woman to have flown solo in space. She is also the youngest woman to have been in space at 26 years old.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Twenty years later on 6/18/83, Sally Ride became the first American woman to go into space. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> On 6/19, the year’s northernmost sunrise occurs, and then the sun begins to shift ever southward in our sky. On 6/20, the year’s northernmost sunset occurs.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Summer solstice takes place on 6/21, giving us our longest day – 15 hours and 44 minutes. Now summer “officially” begins, lasting supposedly 93 days – but we all know better.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;">Quote for the Week</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” – Henry David Thoreau</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span> </p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-31131845356577118832023-05-19T06:30:00.003-07:002023-05-19T06:30:55.760-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for 5/26/23<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white;">A Northwoods Almanac for May 26 – June 8, 2023</span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Ice-Off – It Took Awhile!</b><br /> Ice-off for the larger lakes in our area occurred well into the first week of May. Thankfully the fishing opener wasn’t until May 6, and I believe all our lakes were open by then. Judith Bloom emailed me that ice-out on Tomahawk Lake occurred on May 5<sup>th</sup>, the “same date as last year,” she said. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> On smaller lakes, the ice went off a few days earlier. Woody Hagge has been keeping ice-off and ice-on dates for 39-acre Foster Lake for 51 years, and noted that the ice went off Foster Lake on April 29. This was a tie for the fifth latest ice-off date in his records. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> However, he was also added that since 2000, the ice went off the earliest in 2012, 2nd earliest in 2000, 3rd earliest in 2010, and tied for 4th earliest in 2007. So, while in the last two decades, we’d had some late springs, we’ve also had quite a number of early ones.<b><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> His summation of what’s going on: “Clearly, climate change is causing wild swings in temperatures.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Sightings and FOY (First of Year)<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/7: We heard our FOY black-throated green warbler and Blackburnian warbler in the Van Vliet Hemlocks<b>.<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/8: Judith Bloom on Lake Tomahawk saw her FOY rose-breasted grosbeak, the same day we saw our first one in Manitowish. That morning we also saw our FOY brown thrasher and yellow warbler, and back in the Frog Lake and Pines SNA, we found our first trailing arbutus in flower. That evening we heard our FOY leopard frogs.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlkLpKRUiJ_4f9a6GtwYWByjUaAsOnSTPHczY_m6RQ-8WEKyOPF1p02XL7io1MmX4ei4magjASQo4nyCCoynl2t8vKw_6AcKve-vI9NpcrB11LgYpBRVmhPDLIPWUYdb-dXvrE05TvCtwYLlhRAxjh2ypv2D-f9azqZH_lP5icfDV0y5j8KY-ekXqwQ/s1080/rose-breasted%20grosbeak%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1009" data-original-width="1080" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlkLpKRUiJ_4f9a6GtwYWByjUaAsOnSTPHczY_m6RQ-8WEKyOPF1p02XL7io1MmX4ei4magjASQo4nyCCoynl2t8vKw_6AcKve-vI9NpcrB11LgYpBRVmhPDLIPWUYdb-dXvrE05TvCtwYLlhRAxjh2ypv2D-f9azqZH_lP5icfDV0y5j8KY-ekXqwQ/w400-h374/rose-breasted%20grosbeak%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rose-breasted grosbeak photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/9: Judith Bloom saw her FOY ruby-throated hummingbird, as did we in Manitowish. Judith also saw her FOY common loons. She noted, “The male loon in this territory has held it from 2008 and is a great Dad.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I forgot to note in my last column that Pat Schmidt on Silver Lake in Hazelhurst won the award for first loon pair sighting, at least that I heard about on a lake – 4/27. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Also on 5/9, we spotted our first of many hepaticas in the Frog Lake area, and in doing our first frog count of the year for the DNR, we heard our FOY American toads and several whip-poor-wills.<b><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/10: Jo Knapp in Presque Isle saw her FOY rose-breasted grosbeak, as well as her first ever red-headed woodpecker, a bird which remains quite uncommon up here. Mary and I saw our FOY white-crowned sparrows below our feeders, saw wild strawberries in flower, and could see the adult eagle feeding a chick in the nest across the river from us.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/12: Judith Bloom had her FOY indigo bunting, and we had our FOY wood anemones.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2uyy3oILiM9Wi9Eu8WunUZfzPQ5Lj06GUuZwJ2nf4pVIPuxU2W-7PmZlahV7dzIilnGgTNUZyzEznBvHOIHBSP6rIFgtAcLoufJXrQKhDdbaDmzRzpteej8YrFEDHkjUeMuK8wS7ennuKahNs1ipzPVGiODWM2-NLfIhaXHGeC98tLwkNY00PjTcXrw/s1940/indigo%20bunting%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1543" data-original-width="1940" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2uyy3oILiM9Wi9Eu8WunUZfzPQ5Lj06GUuZwJ2nf4pVIPuxU2W-7PmZlahV7dzIilnGgTNUZyzEznBvHOIHBSP6rIFgtAcLoufJXrQKhDdbaDmzRzpteej8YrFEDHkjUeMuK8wS7ennuKahNs1ipzPVGiODWM2-NLfIhaXHGeC98tLwkNY00PjTcXrw/w400-h319/indigo%20bunting%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indigo bunting photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/15: Callie and I came across dozens and dozens of goldthread wildflowers, and Mary and I heard our FOY northern waterthrush on the Bear River. We also had our one and only large-flower trillium on our property come into bloom, as did several patches of nodding trilliums.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ63301G6rqPFvwI462vEhTSNu3cI6tXDbFZMrfIAYo3Z7ruRuHw1QQ0K6Zpbu-5WdRHJ7DD9vals7sppto16sxTXl1aS27CqgzaIKGmoT_A0nHXbEX9Wa5SG5MCIMIxVPGqFBwdZjPxoJxDdv2oFSuCjCiLKCPMDaTptd0chFaHZjnBdpaJTXvVzHLQ/s2063/nodding%20trillium%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2063" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ63301G6rqPFvwI462vEhTSNu3cI6tXDbFZMrfIAYo3Z7ruRuHw1QQ0K6Zpbu-5WdRHJ7DD9vals7sppto16sxTXl1aS27CqgzaIKGmoT_A0nHXbEX9Wa5SG5MCIMIxVPGqFBwdZjPxoJxDdv2oFSuCjCiLKCPMDaTptd0chFaHZjnBdpaJTXvVzHLQ/w349-h400/nodding%20trillium%20photo%20by%20John%20Bates.JPG" width="349" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">nodding trillium photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/16: Jennifer Heitz sent a photo of a common green darner dragonfly that she rescued from the water before a fish or bird could get it. She noted that, “it was at least 3” long with a beautiful green and blue body.” Green darners migrate by the thousands in the fall and lay their eggs where they overwinter in the southern states. Their offspring then return in the spring and are often the first dragonflies we see in the Northwoods.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-7l38znf9k8ZGIe9hyqeWDsPtZZEku_86JcoKO3nPvC5zyrXh6-aWch4M81hK5HjF8e-4QlRmEw9YYYRN1PlgZvb-GmnGZ-DRsXeEx6Ilk8sKBQp9zaMUG3sJv4xXWhcTg9oDVFoPACF-La8OcOYKz11UGbCQAfChh7naUkwyIoiVfMOkcx6wTIlcw/s640/common%20green%20darner%20dragonfly,%20photo%20by%20Jennifer%20Heitz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="471" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-7l38znf9k8ZGIe9hyqeWDsPtZZEku_86JcoKO3nPvC5zyrXh6-aWch4M81hK5HjF8e-4QlRmEw9YYYRN1PlgZvb-GmnGZ-DRsXeEx6Ilk8sKBQp9zaMUG3sJv4xXWhcTg9oDVFoPACF-La8OcOYKz11UGbCQAfChh7naUkwyIoiVfMOkcx6wTIlcw/w295-h400/common%20green%20darner%20dragonfly,%20photo%20by%20Jennifer%20Heitz.jpg" width="295" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">common green darner photo by Jennifer Heitz</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">5/18: We encountered our first hatch of mosquitoes. We had two weeks of blessed hiking in snowless and bugless woods, but we were keenly aware that this would soon end, and so it has.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Wildflowers!<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b>Snow still laid in patches in most woodlands as May began, but once the weather warmed and the snow disappeared, our ephemeral wildflowers burst quickly into bloom. And not just wildflowers – many shrubs and trees, too. In our yard, many years ago we planted a pear, a plum, and several Juneberry trees, all of which came into flower on 5/15, and are already going by as of 5/19. But what a dazzle it’s been for these four days, and with our lilacs, crabapples, black and choke cherries, mountain ashes, and apple trees soon to flower, the sheer beauty of late May can easily take your breath away.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Trees are also quickly leafing out, so the spring ephemeral wildflowers have their work cut out for them. They have to flower, be pollinated, and start going to fruit/seed while the sun still peeks through the tree branches. Once full leaf-out occurs in the hardwoods, the sunlight on the forest floor may only be an occasional dappling, cutting off the wildflowers’ source of photosynthesis. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> So, it’s a race. If you want to see any of it, your time is short at best.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Goldthread (<i>Coptis trifolia</i>)<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX1EmteLQOfyWXKdciauJVwoV5bGGlkxlmluxmVyESdfaEHlAHBr1EBIZnDn44N7NywR3a_egb8fkUJ_orlbp7YvuKLtmMnmcYzZJINjr92VXqWzq22I0TJgpSTmvS3UYhEcuMfuOingyh7ivIAhANZEN-1ddDBAdbFNVX50m2tW7p6wQze5HKNNkwpA/s2885/goldthread.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2885" data-original-width="1616" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX1EmteLQOfyWXKdciauJVwoV5bGGlkxlmluxmVyESdfaEHlAHBr1EBIZnDn44N7NywR3a_egb8fkUJ_orlbp7YvuKLtmMnmcYzZJINjr92VXqWzq22I0TJgpSTmvS3UYhEcuMfuOingyh7ivIAhANZEN-1ddDBAdbFNVX50m2tW7p6wQze5HKNNkwpA/w224-h400/goldthread.JPG" width="224" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">goldthread photo by John Bates</td></tr></tbody></table><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> These delicate May flowers thrive in cool, moist woods, particularly cedar swamps, and in bogs, but also grow under conifers, and often right in moss. Each flower grows singly on a long thin stem with 5 to 7 white petal-like sepals arranged in a star. Its evergreen leaves are divided into three fan-shaped, scalloped leaflets that look a bit like barren strawberry. If you are still in doubt about its identification, carefully expose the slender, brilliant yellow roots from which the name was derived.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The roots branch into underground horizontal rhizomes that vegetatively reproduce by sending up shoots, often creating carpets of goldthread in deep woods.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Goldthread was once called “canker-root” because of its use as a remedy for sore and ulcerated mouths. Most herbs were historically used in a host of different ways, but goldthread had unusual consistent use among various tribes – Mohegans and Montagnais boiled the root and used the solution for a gargle; Penobscots chewed the stems to prevent sores in the mouth; similar use was made of the root by Menominees, Potawatomis, and Pillager Ojibwas. Historical references say the root was also commonly used for lessening the pain of teething. The root contains the alkaloid berberine which exerts a mild sedative action, explaining its popularity as a pain killer. Widely used as folk remedy, goldthread roots dried for market in 1908 fetched sixty to seventy cents a pound. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Scrape soil away from the roots to expose the wiry rhizomes “made of gold,” then carefully replace the soil and pat it down.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Lake Clarity Means Higher Property Values<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> (From Ted Rulseh’s highly recommended book <i>Ripple Effects</i> by University of Wisconsin Press):<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> “For most lake residents, a direct self-interest lies in the value of their property. Study after study ties the quality of lake environments to property value, and to the vibrancy of community economies and the fiscal health of local governments. That is especially true in lake-rich tourist areas like northern Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Michigan. To cite just a sampling of evidence: A Bemidji State University study of 1,205 property sales on thirty-seven lakes in six regions of northern Minnesota found that water clarity was the most important factor in determining lakeshore property values. Professor Patrick Welle, one of the investigators, noted that on average, properties on all lakes in those six regions would rise in value by fifty dollars per foot of lake frontage if water clarity increased by one meter (a little more than three feet). ‘Now Realtors can talk of location, location, location and clarity, clarity, clarity,’ noted Welle.<span style="position: relative; top: -3pt;"></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> “A University of Wisconsin–Whitewater study, looking at 3,186 real estate sales over ten years on seven lakes in northwest Wisconsin, found that properties on lakes with good water quality had values two to three times higher than on lakes with poor-quality water.<span style="position: relative; top: -3pt;"></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> “A Michigan State University study examined the body of evidence on the connection between water quality and property prices. Reviewing forty-three studies, the researchers found that all but two showed a statistically significant relationship: ‘As a whole, they provide convincing evidence that clean water has a positive effect on property value.’<span style="position: relative; top: -3pt;"></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> “A study by the University of Wisconsin–Madison found that properties on lakes infested with Eurasian water milfoil experienced an average 7.7 percent decrease in total value.<span style="position: relative; top: -3pt;"></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> “A University of Wisconsin–Eau Claire study estimated gains in property value related to water clarity on sixty lakes in the state’s Vilas and Oneida counties. It concluded that a one-meter increase in clarity would boost the market price of an average lake home by $8,090 to $32,171 . . . <span style="position: relative; top: -3pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="position: relative; top: -3pt;"> “</span>Another study in Wisconsin’s Oneida County projected the impact on the economy and local government revenue if lake quality were to decline significantly. In that event, according to surveys cited, seasonal residents would spend less time at their properties, and up to 50 percent of visitors would find other vacation destinations. This would cost the county’s economy more than $100 million per year; the county would risk losing $2 billion in property value and $19 million per year in property tax revenue.”<span style="position: relative; top: -3pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Not all lakes were created with equal water clarity – some are naturally stained. Whatever their natural coloration, however, these studies are crystal clear in linking the healthiest lakes with the healthiest monetary valuation. Famous oceanographer Sylvia Earle said in relation to the profound importance of water to all life, “No blue, no green.” We can also say something similar in relation to the importance of water clarity to economic value, “No blue, less green.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b>June is on the horizon, and planet watching is fine this month. Look after dusk for both Venus and Mars in the southwest, with -4.5 magnitude Venus easily outshining 1.6 magnitude Mars. Remember that the scale is logarithmic – each step down of one magnitude is 2.512 times brighter than the magnitude 1 higher. Thus, a magnitude 1 star is exactly 100 times brighter than a magnitude 6 star. Venus, at almost six full magnitudes brighter than Mars, is over 200 times brighter.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> If you’re awake in the dark before dawn, look for Jupiter (-2.1 magnitude) in the east and Saturn (0.9 magnitude) in the southeast.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> June’s full moon occurs on the 3<sup>rd</sup>. Called by many lovely names – the “Strawberry” or “Rose” or “Honey” moon – I’m particularly prone to seeing it as the “Strawberry” moon given that our first wild strawberries are usually ripe by mid-month with our first farm-grown strawberries not far behind. As Izaac Walton said, “Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b><em><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">“Knowing what I do, there would be no future peace for me if I kept silent,”</span></em><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"> Rachel Carson wrote in a letter to her closest friend Dorothy Freeman, ninety days before the release of her 1962 book<i> Silent Spring</i>.</span><b><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;">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 </span><a href="http://www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="background: white;">www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="background: white;">. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-50575751036386203972023-05-19T06:24:00.000-07:002023-05-19T06:24:14.193-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for May 12<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">A Northwoods Almanac for May 12 – 25, 2023</span></b><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"> by John Bates<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"> To my mind, these two weeks are the richest, most exciting weeks of the year. It’s been a very long winter, and now, FINALLY, it’s the height of spring when everything is greening up and flowering out, birds are returning from all corners of the Americas, frogs are in tumult, it’s warm enough to sit on the deck and bask in the sun, and the mosquitoes have yet to hatch and achieve battalion status. So, let’s look at a sample of spring’s burgeoning life. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Sightings – Waterfowl, Frogs, Bitterns, Warblers, Pelicans, Snipe, and More!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </span></b></span><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">As of this writing, here are some of the first-of-the-years (FOYs) I’m aware of that have occurred from April 21 to May 5:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> Frogs! We heard our FOY wood frogs on 4/26, and FOY spring peepers and chorus frogs on 4/28. Then it started to snow – again – and it wasn’t until May 3 that the frogs warmed up enough to restart their joyous pandemonium. Calling is associated with water temperatures – chorus frogs start calling at 36°F and start getting really worked up once the water reaches 40°. Spring peepers are known to begin calling even when the ice is still only half-off an ephemeral pond, but they really start chorusing once water temperatures reach at least 41°F.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> Brrrr!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVrIUI8cCATLjRsFjtYYpd5YDuuwMuY4O_frLHOul8Fpr1PISLAOI9FG6lmhwoiUP6MJIeokBaqrs8xL8Uab7bn0AtFpGUzMWW9jCVRVgI_IbCwQX8o6zGC49oQVgaMJ7JOIx-SrNO_n6UJcQkhokTP1QDomexL0yJCWLeIbfskvS8W-vz1o2PQFeUg/s4032/Wood%20frog%20photo%20by%20Dan%20Lucas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVrIUI8cCATLjRsFjtYYpd5YDuuwMuY4O_frLHOul8Fpr1PISLAOI9FG6lmhwoiUP6MJIeokBaqrs8xL8Uab7bn0AtFpGUzMWW9jCVRVgI_IbCwQX8o6zGC49oQVgaMJ7JOIx-SrNO_n6UJcQkhokTP1QDomexL0yJCWLeIbfskvS8W-vz1o2PQFeUg/w300-h400/Wood%20frog%20photo%20by%20Dan%20Lucas.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">wood frog photo by Dan Lucas</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> Catch the wood frogs while you can. The males call only for about two weeks in a flurry of mating activity, then go silent until next spring. The peepers and chorus frogs hang in there much longer with peepers calling in most wetland habitats and ephemeral ponds, while chorus frogs seem to prefer grassy, fishless wetlands. Mary and I run a frog count in western Vilas for the WDNR, and at the 10 sites we visit, we rarely encounter chorus frogs, even though they’re common throughout most of Wisconsin. It’s all about habitat, and these sites just don’t seem to have the right stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> Trees and shrubs have been wisely biding their time coming into flower. Aspens, willows, alders, and hazelnuts, all have been in flower. But wildflowers? There had been lots of snow still in most shaded woods until May 2. So, as of this morning, May 5, there’s been no flowering. But it just started really warming up yesterday, and by the time you read this, the woods should be dancing with an array of ephemeral spring wildflowers. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> Relative to birds, we had our FOY northern shovelers and American wigeons on Powell Marsh on 4/24, along with redheads on 4/26. Then on 4/29, again on Powell, we had our FOY American bitterns and a flock of 10 white pelicans.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"><span> <span> <span> </span></span> </span>Our first palm warbler arrived on 5/2, but the big sighting that day was five Wilson’s snipes right below our house in the flooded wetlands. One was obviously a male, because he had his tail thrust up in the air and fanned out, and was aggressively stalking the others, who did a fine job of staying a short distance in front of him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnoKuqgtkU2ld_Bkqg_5t1iyaIgcFT8lYVgzal2D3XwXcRNoLL8PqApWiXUG2M-zHdAPg7dXOGS6OnJA4GXsKcdu9eli0VXrvBESOvUXwUqoBR2l921BVW7GD0TN8wUNN8zKfNr741Z4raAQ_hIikyPq1dlH-2h48vF66esmHbEBgSrb4NYxJYm82vQ/s1280/Wilson's%20snipe%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1025" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnoKuqgtkU2ld_Bkqg_5t1iyaIgcFT8lYVgzal2D3XwXcRNoLL8PqApWiXUG2M-zHdAPg7dXOGS6OnJA4GXsKcdu9eli0VXrvBESOvUXwUqoBR2l921BVW7GD0TN8wUNN8zKfNr741Z4raAQ_hIikyPq1dlH-2h48vF66esmHbEBgSrb4NYxJYm82vQ/w400-h320/Wilson's%20snipe%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> We’d hoped to actually see them mate, but no such luck. The literature says the </span></span>male struts around the female with drooping wings, fanning his erect tail, while the female remains in one spot spasmodically drooping her wings and fanning her tail, whereupon the female abruptly squats and the male flutters onto her back and copulates with slowly beating wings. One researcher described an incident in which a pair was joined by a second male, and both males copulated with the female and then tried to copulate with each other. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Wowee! Exciting stuff in the wetlands!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Once bred, the female will make a shallow scrape for her eggs, usually on a wet hummock or on the edge of a marsh or swamp, and line it with grasses.<span class="apple-converted-space"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #232323; font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #232323;">And if you’re wondering who “Wilson” was and why he got the species named after him, Scotsman Alexander Wilson (1766-1813) dropped out of the sixth grade, apprenticed as a weaver and aspired to be a poet. But he quickly learned these were the fast lane into poverty, so he emigrated to Philadelphia. Here he met the naturalist William Bartram, who inspired him so much that he set off to publish a collection of illustrations of all the birds of North America, no mean feat in the late 1700s. He eventually published the greatest natural history work of the time, the nine-volume <i>American Ornithology</i> illustrating 320 bird species, of which 26 had never been described before. He was known then as the “Father of American Ornithology,” and apparently inspired John James Audubon enough that Audubon was later accused of plagiarizing his work.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #232323;"> Thus, in honor of Wilson’s work, he had at least seven bird species named after him, one of which is the snipe. He died in 1813 of “dysentery, overwork, and chronic poverty,” aptly describing the rewards of working in field ornithology at the time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #232323;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><b><span style="background: white; color: #232323;">Coming Now or Soon!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #232323;"> If you don’t have your hummingbirds feeders out, get on it! Hummers typically appear in our area right around Mother’s Day, so the time is now. Baltimore orioles also arrive now, so get oranges out for them. And rose-breasted grosbeaks should come on the same or near the same day, so be sure to have sunflower seeds available for them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #232323;"> Our neotropical migrants – most warblers, vireos, thrushes, et al – arrive a few days later, usually beginning around May 15.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue; text-decoration: underline;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Red-backed Voles<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </span></b></span><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Have you noticed all the gnawed and bare stems of various shrubs and saplings in our area, nearly all of which are several feet above the ground? This work is attributed to red-backed voles, a species which I admit to knowing very little about, but which has certainly tweaked my interest with its hard work over the winter. In autumn, these voles are said to cache seeds, nuts, and roots near their nests for winter consumption, but if the need arises, the bark of deciduous trees and shrubs becomes an important winter food. The need must have arisen, because there are hundreds of gnawed shrubs and saplings all around, particularly in wetter areas.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> A whole host of predators consume this rodent, including coyotes, short-tailed shrews, fishers, martens, weasels, foxes, all owls, most hawks, and even great blue herons and northern pike. These species should be delighted with so many voles to choose from.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Results from the Wisconsin Conservation Congress Spring Hearings <o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The annual Wisconsin Conservation Congress Spring Hearings have historically asked participants to discuss and vote on wide ranging hunting and fishing regulations. But more and more, the spring hearings take up larger environmental issues that matter to everyone in the state, which is exactly as it should be. This spring the Congress overwhelmingly supported the following five issues which I find of particular local importance: <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> 1) Wake boarding: Six questions were presented to regulate this boating activity, which utilizes a specialized powerboat outfitted with ballast tanks and a huge engine to create massive waves for “surfers” behind the boat. Those waves can, of course, damage shorelines and lake bottoms, as well as destroy bird nests along shorelines, including those of common loons. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> For example, here was question 64: “Do you support prohibiting wake boats from causing hazardous wakes on lakes less than 1500 acres?” 6292 said yes, 2879 said no, 553 said they had no opinion. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Question 66 asked, “Would you support the WCC and legislature creating a new state Statute that prohibits operation of a boat that intentionally creates a hazardous wake on lakes of a specific physical characteristics defined by size, depth, length and width?” Again, 6179 voters said yes, more than double those saying no.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Bottom line: All six questions restricting or prohibiting wake boats were supported by a landslide.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> 2) Ban of lead tackle in fishing to help prevent wildlife poisonings: Question 54 asked, “Do you support the WCC working with the DNR, the Natural Resources Board and our state legislature to implement a statewide ban on lead jigs and sinkers weighing 1 ounce or less?” The vote was 4727 yes, 2960 no and 2172 had no opinion. One of many reasons to do this? A recent study showed 30% of dead loons in Wisconsin were lead-poisoned. The cost to replace lead jigs and sinkers? Next to nothing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> 3) End lead poisoning of eagles: Question 55 discussed how wildlife rehabilitators in Wisconsin treat a couple hundred eagles and other raptors annually for lead poisoning after the birds ingest lead while scavenging in fall and early winter. Voters were asked if Wisconsin should have a statewide outreach program to increase the use of non-lead ammunition, and 5649 said yes, 2330 no, with 1868 folks remarkably having no opinion. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The issue is endlessly debated, but I think it’s relatively simple. Copper bullets have been proven to work overall just as well as lead bullets, though they’re a little bit more expensive <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> For me, this question didn’t go far enough. Why don’t we take the moral high ground and actually legislate lead out of all hunting? Given what’s at stake here – inadvertent poisoning of so much wildlife – there’s not a single excuse, other than the slightly increased cost, for not banning all lead.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> 4) Reinstate the “Prove it First Mining Law-1997 Act 171”: 6106 said yes, 1069 said no, and 2692 had no opinion. What is the issue here? Act 171was passed in 1997-98, with overwhelming bipartisan support (29-3 in the Senate and 91-6 in the Assembly and signed by Gov. Thompson) as a reaction to high-profile cases of pollution from sulfide mines.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The “Prove It First” law requires independent scientific proof that a copper-sulfide mine has operated elsewhere in the United States for at least ten years without causing pollution and that the mine has been closed for at least ten years without causing pollution. In 2017, Act 171 was repealed. Because metallic mining continues to pollute where it is done, it’s common sense to reinstate the Prove It First Act 171, and nearly 6 to 1 of the voters in the spring hearings saw it that way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> 5) PFAS and other forever chemicals: Question 52 asked, “Does the public support more testing and stricter standards for PFAS levels including in biosolids and groundwater?” 6579 said yes, 1069 said no, and 2499 failed to have an opinion.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> To see all the results from other important questions during the spring hearings, go to: <a href="https://dnr.wisconsin.gov/sites/default/files/topic/About/WCC/2023/SpringHearing/2023_StatewideResults.pdf" style="color: #954f72;">https://dnr.wisconsin.gov/sites/default/files/topic/About/WCC/2023/SpringHearing/2023_StatewideResults.pdf</a><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </span></b></span><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">On 5/17, look before dawn for Jupiter just below the waning crescent moon. We’re up to 15 hours of sunlight on this day!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> The new moon occurs on 5/19. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> On 5/23, look for Venus two degrees below the waxing crescent moon.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> And as we grow closer to summer solstice, the days are now growing longer by less than two minutes a day. As late as this spring has been, summer solstice is not far off.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Quote for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </span></b></span><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><i><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” </span></i></span><span class="MsoHyperlink" style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">― Rainer Maria Rilke<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-48495192620858911912023-04-28T08:24:00.000-07:002023-04-28T08:24:09.740-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for April 28, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">A Northwoods Almanac for April 28 to May 11, 2023 </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Midwest Sandhill Crane Count <o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The annual Midwest sandhill crane count took place on Saturday, April 15, the last day of our week of other-worldly hot, sunny days before we got another foot of snow. Mary and I have paddled a section of the Manitowish River for three decades counting cranes every April, and this had to be the warmest, calmest morning of any crane count we’ve ever experienced – 42° and no wind. Heaven.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> We were on the river by 5:50 a.m. with good friend and ace photographer, Bob Kovar, and from the get-go, we heard a pair of sandhills doing their unison call. If you’ve not heard the unison call, the carrying power and synchronicity of the male and female is remarkable. The male calls first, and instantaneously (in 0.2 seconds), the female follows. The male crane flips his head nearly straight up and produces a single call. The female crane responds by raising her head at a 45 degree angle and emitting 2 to 3 shorter, higher pitched calls. This call reinforces the pair bond, helps to defend a territory, and serves to avoid conflict among other territorial adults. The calls are so loud that they can be heard up to 2.5 miles away.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlugu64GPkweNMTwirxm1a0V9UnmgOuJRJfFXXU0TlzIR2Qlr3LWkYzOVWivq1nF3vA1jHw4Rq8Q4IJvdVkxKEGSGIpTkuAl7jHQPQnGZdi1_QkNAWLqNTKyHG-zd-kbY7EvZQYDnWFx7UNdb7mPM4Srb4Kks4XJA18_mnsGN1TdZJd3GsuUxoBLsW5A/s1000/Mary%20Burns%20on%20the%20Manitowish%20River%204:15:23%20photo%20by%20Bob%20Kovar.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1000" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlugu64GPkweNMTwirxm1a0V9UnmgOuJRJfFXXU0TlzIR2Qlr3LWkYzOVWivq1nF3vA1jHw4Rq8Q4IJvdVkxKEGSGIpTkuAl7jHQPQnGZdi1_QkNAWLqNTKyHG-zd-kbY7EvZQYDnWFx7UNdb7mPM4Srb4Kks4XJA18_mnsGN1TdZJd3GsuUxoBLsW5A/w400-h245/Mary%20Burns%20on%20the%20Manitowish%20River%204:15:23%20photo%20by%20Bob%20Kovar.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary watching a bald eagle, photo by Bob Kovar</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I must admit, however, that we’re never just out there to count cranes, though that is the initial motivating force. We’re out there to experience the first paddle of the spring while the river is in flood, the waterfowl that have just returned, the beaver and otter and muskrats that are active, and the first crazy songbirds that are either passing through or are here to stay.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The Manitowish loves to meander, but the annual spring flood allowed us to just paddle across the oxbows, conserving time and energy. But we really didn’t need to conserve either of those, because the current in the floodwater pushed us right along, allowing me to paddle with ease while Bob shot photos in the bow of the canoe.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Highlights included perhaps a dozen trumpeter swans along the way, nearly all of which gave us close fly-bys; many beavers, a number of which were concealed and startled us by whacking their tails as we cruised by; good numbers of waterfowl, with buffleheads, surprisingly, being the most common of the lot; and an array of early songbirds, the most exciting of which was our first winter wren of the year.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Flooding<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The Manitowish remains in very high flood as of this writing (4/21). Thank goodness for our floodplains spreading out and absorbing so much of this water! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLnAq7hGG69E8FrOR4niD9kwbDRVYWKU9VIqcSAdvfnO8mruubfuuYaCk4zs0V8deVX9XTpTgMRuryA3v4EN653RrQSPSUa-F4Y5Qn7wAyF7a8HNzwrCcDgyIGFvCTsCVo_UXnBsYnHlVJJAJYYCLyqzmPCLEOJkaxaIp_TeYtBd27wtdrC1n76fydMQ/s4000/Manitowish%20in%20Flood%203%204:19:23.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLnAq7hGG69E8FrOR4niD9kwbDRVYWKU9VIqcSAdvfnO8mruubfuuYaCk4zs0V8deVX9XTpTgMRuryA3v4EN653RrQSPSUa-F4Y5Qn7wAyF7a8HNzwrCcDgyIGFvCTsCVo_UXnBsYnHlVJJAJYYCLyqzmPCLEOJkaxaIp_TeYtBd27wtdrC1n76fydMQ/w400-h300/Manitowish%20in%20Flood%203%204:19:23.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manitowish River in flood below our house</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I don’t wish to diminish anyone’s personal loss due to floods – catastrophic floods are just that, catastrophic – but we often have a knee-jerk reaction to annual natural floods as disasters, when it’s essential to remember that floods have always existed and actually provide ecological benefits. The difference today is that floods often do more damage than they did historically, and we often have brought the damage on ourselves. When we build on floodplains, drain wetlands, channelize waterways, farm up to the edges of rivers, build dams and determine that one side benefits at the expense of the other, and pave thousands of acres of land with asphalt, the ensuing result is that we see more floods and experience greater destruction.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> What occurs to a river during a flood? A healthy river will usually absorb all but the most catastrophic floods. The riparian plant life holds the shoreline soil in place with its network of roots, while the leaves of shoreline shrubs and trees further protect the groundlayer from the pounding and erosive forces of heavy rainfall. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Sometimes a flood scrubs an area clean of vegetation, but most vegetation has adapted to regenerate quickly. For instance, silver maples and willows actually depend on floods, flowering and going to seed immediately in the spring, so the seeds are ready to drop on exposed riverbanks when the floodwaters recede. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Floods cleanse older organic materials like dead plants from the floodplain into the river, and replace them with newer materials. The floodwater also scours the long strings of filamentous algae, as well as other plants, off the riverbed. Afterward, plant populations often explode due to the nutrient-rich organic debris fueling a growth spurt all the way up the food chain. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Floods transport wood and rock debris that eventually drops out of the river’s flow and provides new structure within the river. Since different fish need different habitat structure for spawning, feeding, and resting, floods are actually key events in shaping and maintaining high-quality fish habitat. Recent studies on rivers have concluded that on average a river needs to “mobilize” (i.e. flood) its channel bed every other year in order to provide ideal spawning habitat. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> During floods, rivers cut new channels, resculpt older ones, and clean silt out of spawning gravels. Floodplains work simultaneously to soak up the high water and then release it slowly, keeping the river flowing in drier months. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Rivers, and the life within them, survive through resilience. A healthy river is self-sustaining and self-healing. Destruction of one life leads to new life in a dynamic ebb, flow, and flood. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The Manitowish River where we live floods nearly every spring after snowmelt. The difference is that no one has built on the floodplains. Still, someday we may get a 100-year deluge rain, and the river will rise and flood us. But for now, we gaze on the overbank flows with curiosity, wondering where the ducks and swans are, rather than wondering if we will survive the flood.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Winter Severity Index to Date<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Since 1975, the Winter Severity Index (WSI) has been used across Wisconsin to predict the impact of winter on deer herds. WSl is calculated by adding the number of days with a snow depth of at least 18 inches (1 point for each day) to the number of days when the minimum temperatures were 0°F or below (1 point for each day). Days when both conditions occur are scored as 2. These points accumulate throughout the winter from December 1 to April 30. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> A WSI of 49 or less is considered mild, 50-79 is moderate, 80-99 is severe, and 100 or greater is very severe. Many WSI snow depth readings are taken by WDNR staff biologists and additional snow depth and temperature readings come from National Weather Service stations across the state.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> As of March 31, four counties have exceeded 100 points – Douglas (117), Iron (113), Bayfield (110), and Washburn (108) (see the map). And we still have April to count, which should add more points for snow depth. Note how quickly the points decline as one goes south – Iron County, for instance, has nearly three times as many points as Oneida County. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFW0Ds5RaniJFGZgOLPQar434yYAzuIfrtkdP0dQVvy7hmLEE77I-BLl8yfHSeq4yT-WxisoH4wiVJl3G5k0C4ba7CkOlm1HHvdL3Xuzb3rUdTD3LvtWJi9U9Q44BzzvSf_Nm-eJjrNalQEmGw8rfh5quWJWz_NXzOVQbaNMdPcTwL2n8q1UamnZIkug/s1700/Winter%20Severity%20Index%20for%202022-23.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1576" data-original-width="1700" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFW0Ds5RaniJFGZgOLPQar434yYAzuIfrtkdP0dQVvy7hmLEE77I-BLl8yfHSeq4yT-WxisoH4wiVJl3G5k0C4ba7CkOlm1HHvdL3Xuzb3rUdTD3LvtWJi9U9Q44BzzvSf_Nm-eJjrNalQEmGw8rfh5quWJWz_NXzOVQbaNMdPcTwL2n8q1UamnZIkug/w400-h371/Winter%20Severity%20Index%20for%202022-23.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> What I find intriguing about this year’s index is that almost all of those points have come from snow depth exceeding 18” in the northernmost counties, and not from temperatures below 0°. We’ve had a very mild winter temperature-wise, but we’ve had a severe winter in terms of snow depth.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> There’s lots of wiggle room in WSI’s very general equation. My question is how do the impacts differ between a high score based predominately on cold winter temperatures compared to a high score based predominately on high snow levels? And how does one take into account the difference between nights that are -5° compared to those that are -35°, both of which score the same 1 point? Extreme cold temperatures require far more energy expenditure for animals to stay warm. Likewise, how does one account for the difference between 20” of snow compared to 40” of snow, the deeper snow requiring far greater effort to wade through?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I’ll be very interested to see both the deer survival rates and the reproductive rates when our spring finally arrives. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Sightings – Sparrows! Juncos! Evening Grosbeaks! Blackbirds! Oh My!<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b>Our remarkably warm weather during the week of April 9 to 14 brought in a lot of migrating birds. But that gorgeous weather was immediately followed by a week of snow and sleet and cold rain, which concentrated all those birds at area feeders in a frenzied attempt to survive. We had a small army of dark-eyed juncos, American goldfinches, evening grosbeaks, red-winged blackbirds, common grackles, and black-capped chickadees, among many other species, covering our decks and areas below our feeders. And the sparrows! American tree sparrows, white-throated sparrows, fox sparrows, and chipping sparrows all arrived in large numbers, as did Brewer’s and rusty blackbirds. And that’s not to mention the ever-present red squirrels. All we could do was pour out more and more sunflower seeds and hope the weather would change soon.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Some first-of-the-years (FYI):<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/7: FYI saw-whet owl calling in Manitowish<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/8: Purple finches returned in large numbers, and FYI brown-headed cowbird <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/9: FYI northern flicker<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/10: FYI American woodcock<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/11: FYI mourning cloak and Compton tortoiseshell butterflies<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/12: FY ospreys, and FYI dragonflies (species unknown)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/13: FYI belted kingfisher<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/14: FYI turkey vultures, Wilson’s snipe, ring-necked ducks, greater yellowlegs<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/15: FYI blue-winged teal, winter wren, bufflehead, coot, yellow-bellied sapsucker, horned larks (large flock!), rusty and Brewer’s blackbirds.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_IHtXuyQLoWi0hom1jHc9rI7aKHFcS2gp9K-KacctvrZC1S1VmbKPUgfbc8cxgeHN0jhbD0qPR5qj_xhPECskt3KN7d3fdGfZ4QE-QNl5jVTqWWPTXAHSI15Tm9gls8cQTES5J57o9ZM56V371N8_dc_rjrrtw6uERuh5ajMLio_4LRNVHzrCflWjg/s932/rusty%20blackbird%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="902" data-original-width="932" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_IHtXuyQLoWi0hom1jHc9rI7aKHFcS2gp9K-KacctvrZC1S1VmbKPUgfbc8cxgeHN0jhbD0qPR5qj_xhPECskt3KN7d3fdGfZ4QE-QNl5jVTqWWPTXAHSI15Tm9gls8cQTES5J57o9ZM56V371N8_dc_rjrrtw6uERuh5ajMLio_4LRNVHzrCflWjg/w400-h388/rusty%20blackbird%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rusty blackbird photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/16: FYI ruby-crowned kinglet, and 11 white pelicans at Powell Marsh WMA<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;">4/17: FYI chipping sparrows<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Global Temperatures<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> March 2023 will go down in the books as tying for the second warmest March on record. Temperatures globally were several degrees above average in most places.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> March represents the 529th month in a row with temperatures exceeding the 20th-century average. That’s more than 44 years straight without a single comparatively cool month.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In the United States, March was a mixed bag. The western U.S. experienced temperatures several degrees below average, whereas considerable warmth was present most of the month over the East. Boston, for example, was 2.5 degrees above average while San Francisco was 3.3 degrees below normal.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Worldwide, March came on the heels of the fourth warmest February on record. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In mid-March, average ocean water temperatures surpassed 70 degrees for the first time on record. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="wpds-c-cydrxm" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Since preindustrial times, Earth has warmed 1.9 degrees F<span class="apple-converted-space">.</span></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> For planet-watching in May, look after dusk for brilliant Venus and Mars both high in the southwest. Before dawn, look for Jupiter low in the east-northeast and Saturn in the southeast.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The full moon (the “Flower” or “Planting” moon) occurs on May 5.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The peak Eta Aquarid meteor shower is best seen in the predawn of May 6, but bright moonlight will obscure most of the event.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><i><span style="background: white; color: #050505;">One gram of moss from the forest floor, a piece about the size of a muffin, would harbor 150,000 protozoa, 132,000 tardigrades, 3,000 springtails, 800 rotifers, 500 nematodes, 400 mites, and 200 fly larvae. These numbers tell us something about the astounding quantity of life in a handful of moss.</span></i><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> –</span></span><b><span style="color: #050505;"> </span></b><span style="color: #050505;">Robin Wall Kimmerer</span><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-934378086932886102023-04-13T11:38:00.003-07:002023-04-13T11:39:13.170-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for April 14, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: repeat white;">A Northwoods Almanac for April 14-27, 2023 </span></b><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;">Sightings: First-of-the-Year (FOY)</span></b><b><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white;"> </span></b><span style="background: repeat white;">With the return of spring bird migration comes the annual excitement about seeing the first robin, the first sandhill crane, the first common loon, etc.<b> </b>It’s like seeing old friends returning after a long getaway. And if one is lucky enough to have a banded bird return that you know has nested on your property before, that’s an added bonus of truly greeting an individual you know.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> So, here you go (note that my records only show species accounts up to a week before publication when my column is due to the paper):</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 3/26: FOY red-winged blackbirds, FOY Canada geese in Manitowish</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 3/27: FOY common grackle, FOY northern harrier in Manitowish </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 3/29: FOY dark-eyed juncos in Manitowish</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 4/2: FOY sandhill cranes in Manitowish</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 4/3: FOY American robin in Manitowish</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 4/3: FOY common and hooded mergansers, John Randolph, Minocqua Fish Hatchery</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wsxMJZpriXFwiOiqUugOBB6G2fpjVyORNlGeZgynuQNCXdGhWGJVVif1twBSoZ3kFMpmXaq1cyiuprhZbDZg75NHZqE6rJNtRz3qrLWdZ14jcJMuBkGVVW2D0uzhx9jdo6QIZ7tNwbT6PmmXsxYL8gYf_zby4MHFUYqQsQxwd01a-X5qVx4jdQ39xQ/s1315/hooded%20merganser%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom%20copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1315" data-original-width="921" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wsxMJZpriXFwiOiqUugOBB6G2fpjVyORNlGeZgynuQNCXdGhWGJVVif1twBSoZ3kFMpmXaq1cyiuprhZbDZg75NHZqE6rJNtRz3qrLWdZ14jcJMuBkGVVW2D0uzhx9jdo6QIZ7tNwbT6PmmXsxYL8gYf_zby4MHFUYqQsQxwd01a-X5qVx4jdQ39xQ/w280-h400/hooded%20merganser%20photo%20by%20Bev%20Engstrom%20copy.JPG" width="280" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hooded merganser photo by Bev Engstrom</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 4/3: FOY merlin, Susan Brandt in Minocqua</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgw8vy7ayhAds2-WH6Yn7czcbus2CrArfRJb_99LgIxg71dx5sbhwtL-5828RGMp8a0BWDSDcDyTBqflxuoO1yUp6oiEtopIWk9MydcSHHU-Ri5UBYtUqbUQh4vDEdYAJFj6LuPr9lCIRotJLTCngOkhERYkqfuRl0Yzr7PZM9EpOX7I1GgT7QiDIRFA/s640/merlin%20photo%20by%20Susan%20Brant.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgw8vy7ayhAds2-WH6Yn7czcbus2CrArfRJb_99LgIxg71dx5sbhwtL-5828RGMp8a0BWDSDcDyTBqflxuoO1yUp6oiEtopIWk9MydcSHHU-Ri5UBYtUqbUQh4vDEdYAJFj6LuPr9lCIRotJLTCngOkhERYkqfuRl0Yzr7PZM9EpOX7I1GgT7QiDIRFA/s320/merlin%20photo%20by%20Susan%20Brant.jpeg" width="214" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Merlin photo by Susan Brandt</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 4/6: FOY yellow-rumped warbler, Bob Kovar in Manitowish Waters</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> 4/6: FOY song sparrow, fox sparrow, and hooded merganser in Manitowish</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> Oh, I should also report that the Manitowish River opened below our house on 3/24. Last year it opened on 4/1, and in 2021, it opened on 3/17, just to show the variability.</span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white;"> And I should note for the record that the last week of March was superb for crust skiing, which is a relatively infrequent winter occurrence. We have to have a deep snowpack, and then above freezing temperatures during the day, and below freezing at night to create a hard crust. </span><span style="background: repeat white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #141827;">Land Trusts Presentation<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #141827;"> Are you interested in helping to permanently protect shorelands, woodlands, and other natural resources, now and into the future? Learn how a land trust can be an important tool for conservation in this presentation with three board members from the<span class="apple-converted-space"> Northwoods Land Trust (NWLT). </span>The program is on April 17 at 7 p.m. at the Mercer Public Library (715-476-2366), and is free and open to the public. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #141827;"> NWLT is a nonprofit conservation organization that has helped protect over 15,000 acres of woodlands, wetlands, and wildlife habitat and 81 miles of water frontage in Iron, Vilas, Oneida, Forest, Florence, Price, and Langlade Counties in northern Wisconsin. Presenters at this program include<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><strong><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">Ron Eckstein</span></strong><b>,</b> retired DNR wildlife manager;<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><strong><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">Cathy Techtmann</span></strong><b>,</b> Environmental Outreach State Specialist and Professor, Community Resource Development UW Madison-Division of Extension; and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><strong><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">me.</span></strong><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #141827;"> There’s been a lot of misinformation tossed around about land trusts. Come find out the real stories.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #141827;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;">Birdsong Returning!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"> I love this writing from Rainer Maria Rilke in his book <i>The Inner Sky: Poems, Notes, Dreams</i>: “I’ve figured it out, something that was never clear to me before – how all creation transposes itself out of the world deeper and deeper into our inner world, and why birds cast such a spell on this path into us. The bird’s nest is, in effect, an outer womb given by nature; the bird only furnishes it and covers it rather than containing the whole thing inside itself. As a result, birds are the animals whose feelings have a very special, intimate familiarity with the outer world; they know that they share with nature their innermost mystery. That is why the bird sings its songs into the world as though it were singing into its inner self, that’s why we take a birdsong into our own inner selves so easily. It seems to us that we translate it fully, with no remainder, into our feelings; a birdsong can even, for a moment, make the whole world into a sky within us, because we feel that the bird does not distinguish between its heart and the world’s.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"> I went out this morning, April 5<sup>th</sup>, and was greeted by a cascade of birdsong, primarily by the 70+ American goldfinches that have taken up residence. But also by a male cardinal, by a dozen red-winged blackbirds, by another dozen common grackles, by black-capped chickadees, by red-breasted and white-breasted nuthatches, by several pine siskins, by evening grosbeaks by the first robins that have finally arrived, and by an array of other species now all awakening hormonally to spring and all that that means. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"> What a pleasure. What a blessing! Even though it was 35°, and the snow was still ridiculously deep, with more snow forecast for the afternoon, the birds were singing. I wonder sometimes what I will miss most when I finally leave this Earth, and high on the list will be birdsong. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"> It’s not only their musicality, their vitality and vituousity, their joy if you will. I think of the winter wren, a 4-inch-long bundle, whose song has been described as if “he were trying to burst his lungs,” and “as if the very atmosphere became resonant.” Donald Kroodsma, after effusively praising the winter wren’s voice in his book <i>The Singing Life of Birds</i>, writes, “I experience [its] performance on another level. The wren family originated in the New World, and this wren is the only one that has escaped the New World, now occurring all across Asia and Europe, even into northern Africa . . . Literally, then, the sun always rises on this wren, and his song is heard around the world. I like to imagine waiting in the early morning darkness at Cape Spear, the easternmost point of Newfoundland, where dawn first greets North America each day. There, these wrens are among the first to sing . . . Each wren seems to shout “pass it on,” and, half a second into the infectious charge, the male on the next territory to the west responds, and the next, and the next, each with an intensity as if his own song were to be heard around the world. All along this front, where dawn’s first light sweeps over Newfoundland, “pass it on” radiates from thousands of bills thrown wide, each singer pausing after his first song only after the next hundred wrens to the west have heeded his call.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"> “This dawn-and-wren-wave progresses to the west, and I imaging surfing this wave, keeping pace with the light and the song . . . In the span of 24 hours, this wren’s dawn signature sweeps the world. It knows no political boundaries, honors no demilitarized zones, around the globe, dawn is continuously celebrated. My knees are weak, my head dizzy from the intoxicating ride.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"> Yes, birdsong. What a gift.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSOcDQCCEdXhgytEcij0-RYw6-rQJtXl2ytA_TZGZQrWz4OW0EexZBg6L7wZ2pkdfo2dXg0PFGQCwpmz9LKkBXpX6Km5npx5EYpaXuZa6qq23nT8cp3Qt4IiiXaaotzQQIR0VMU2yNzMmbu1nlPq-Qb2GmF3DvZ8NSTDYqKRTSQ06ecSpzEt2jlBEmQ/s2400/winter%20wren%203.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1601" data-original-width="2400" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSOcDQCCEdXhgytEcij0-RYw6-rQJtXl2ytA_TZGZQrWz4OW0EexZBg6L7wZ2pkdfo2dXg0PFGQCwpmz9LKkBXpX6Km5npx5EYpaXuZa6qq23nT8cp3Qt4IiiXaaotzQQIR0VMU2yNzMmbu1nlPq-Qb2GmF3DvZ8NSTDYqKRTSQ06ecSpzEt2jlBEmQ/s320/winter%20wren%203.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">winter wren</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #141827;">Earthworms Are Non-Native Invasives <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I recently gave a talk on the common trees and shrubs of the Northwoods, and I was surprised to learn how few people know the story of how damaging earthworms are to our northern forests. I’ve written about this issue a number of times before, but because of its importance, the story bears repeating. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> I realize saying earthworms are evil is deeply counter-intuitive for those of us raised on stories of how good earthworms are for soil, which is true for gardens and farms. However, it’s absolutely not true for forests.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Earthworms are an invasive species. After the last glacial retreat, no native earthworms lived in the Great Lakes region. But in the last century, we have introduced at least 15 species of worms, spread initially by European settlers, and then hastened along by anglers using the worms as fishing bait. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> This means that since the glacial retreat over 10,000 years ago, our forests developed in the complete absence of earthworms. Thus, annual leaf decomposition evolved to be controlled by fungi and bacteria, which work so slowly that the accumulation of leaf litter exceeds the rate of decomposition, resulting in the formation of a thick, spongy duff layer on the forest floor. In a rich sugar maple forest, for instance, the duff layer can be up to four inches thick, insulating the ground and keeping it cool and wet in the spring. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In response, herbaceous plants like trillium, bloodroot and trout lily have adapted over those thousands of years to germinate and root exclusively in this thick, moist, cool mat. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> However, as the worm population has grown, the worms have rapidly consumed the duff layer in as little as a year or two, literally eating the duff out from under the seedling plants. <span style="color: #1e1f21;">By doing so, the worms have altered the physical and chemical properties of the soils, changing the pH, the nutrient and water cycles, and disrupting the symbiotic relationships between soil fungi and tree roots. By the worms removing the protective duff from on top of the soil, they expose the ground to sunlight, allowing the soil to get hotter, dryer, and more compacted, which in turn allows rainwater to run off faster.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> A 2016 study published in the journal “Global Change Biology” involved research by more than two-dozen scientists examining the impacts of worms on forest ecosystems. <span style="color: #1e1f21;">Scientists from the United States, Canada and the German Centre for Integrative Biodiversity Research at Leipzig University worked on this species diversity project, which joined research from 14 separate studies. </span>They found that <span style="color: #1e1f21;">as worms eat the leaves on the forest floor, big trees survive, but many young seedlings perish, along with many ferns and wildflowers, all of which changes the composition of trees in a forest. The earthworms amplified the negative effects of droughts, climate warming, and deer grazing on native plants.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #1e1f21;"> The study also showed that worms helped prepare soils for invading species like buckthorn and garlic mustard which evolved over millennia in Europe right along with the worms.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #1e1f21;"> Worms also made the soil better-suited for grasses and sedges to move in. Have you noticed woodlands in our area that appear to have what looks like a lawn as an understory? Grasses do better in dry, warm soils – their fine roots can better absorb nutrients and water compared to tree roots. The grasses and sedges are native and common components of forest ecosystem – they aren’t “invasive” species. But they are able to outcompete other native </span>species like large-flowered and nodding trillium, Solomon’s seal, blue cohosh, Canada mayflower, wild ginger, red baneberry, lady fern, bloodroot, bellwort, and the many others that do best in cool, moist soils.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Add in the effects of browsing by over populations of white-tailed deer, and the vegetative impacts were seen as profound.<span style="color: #1e1f21;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The good news is that earthworms move very slowly, less than a half mile over 200 years. The bad news is that in northern lake districts like ours, lakes are often less than a mile apart, so the worms have eventually spread from the lakeshores and meet in the woodland middle between the lakes. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <span style="color: #1e1f21;">In some parts of southern Minnesota, with better soils, there are now 200,000 nightcrawlers per acre. And that doesn't include angleworms, which can be as thick as 400,000 per acre – all of them digesting plant material and leaving the forest floor more bare. Minnesota is probably 90 to 95 percent infested with foreign worms, the researchers say.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #1e1f21;"> Bottom line? “The earthworm invasion has altered the biodiversity, and possibly the functioning of the forest ecosystems, because it affects the entire food web as well as water and nutrient cycles,” said Dylan Craven of Leipzig University in Germany, lead author of the study. Added Lee Frelich from the University of Minnesota’s Center for Forest Ecology, “When you change the structure of the soil, which everything else is based on, the ecological cascades are going to ripple through the entire ecosystem.’’ </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #1e1f21;"> So, </span>what can you do? Well, very little about the existing earthworms now in our forests. But if you fish and ordinarily dump your leftover worms in the woods, cease and desist. And if you have a compost pile or garden full of worms next to the woods, please bury a metal barrier around the garden to prevent the earthworms’ dispersal. <span style="color: #1e1f21;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #333333;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2349612444457154016.post-68725001699200772212023-04-07T09:03:00.005-07:002023-04-07T09:03:50.977-07:00A Northwoods Almanac for early April, 2023<p> <b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;">A Northwoods Almanac for March 31 – April 13, 2023 </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;">Hopkins Bioclimatic Law<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">With our Northwoods spring lurking somewhere over the southern horizon, the question is when we’ll see some of that warmth. Well, one way to get an estimate of when we can expect spring to arrive is via “Hopkins Law.” In the early 1900s, </span>American entomologist Andrew Delmar Hopkins developed what he called the Bioclimatic Law, which hypothesized that phenological events in North America were shifted by four days for every 1° latitude north, every 5° longitude west, and every 400 feet of elevation increase. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Doing the math, (one degree of latitude is 69 miles and there’s 60 minutes in one degree of latitude), this means spring moves north at a rate of 17 miles per day. So, for example in Manitowish, we’re 250 miles from Madison. Divide 250 miles by 17, and that equals 15 days. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> However, we’re also over 700 feet higher in elevation – Madison is 873’ and Manitowish is 1600’ – so we have to add another 7 days to spring’s march northward. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Thus, in Manitowish, we’re 22 days behind Madison in the arrival of spring. Tulips just blooming in Madison on April 1 will bloom up here on average on April 22. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The Bioclimatic Law was established through observation of the Hessian fly (<i>Mayetiola destructor</i>), an insect pest on many cereal crops. Hopkins proposed his rule of thumb to predict when wheat could safely be sown without risk of attack. Years later, Hopkins suggested that the Bioclimatic Law could be applied generally to many phenological events in plants, insects, and animals.<b><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> To be sure, Hopkins law is by no means universally accepted. One researchers writes, “The depiction of the relationships involved is too rigidly defined to fit the diversity that I have come to know in nature.” So, for instance, proximity to the Great Lakes throws the law off, as does proximity to mountains. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Nevertheless, Hopkins’ work continues to be cited almost a century later, and for mixed <span style="background: white;">forest communities like where we live, one analysis showed that spring green‐up varies predictably along broad geographic gradients consistent with the Bioclimatic Law. The researcher does throw in the caveat that variation in timing at individual sites will occur with unusual temperature and precipitation events, so there are lots of exceptions.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> All this is to say, hang in there. Cabin fever is running amuck, I know, but spring is near.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><b><span style="background: white;">Sightings: American Goldfinches, Sharp-shinned Hawk, Pine Siskins<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b><span style="background: white;">At our feeders in Manitowish, we are currently inundated with American goldfinches – 80 or so! They arrived in force about a month ago, and continue to enjoy the bounty of sunflowers seeds that we provide.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> To complicate matters, however, a sharp-shinned hawk arrived two weeks ago, and is a frequent presence in the trees above our feeders. The birds scatter to the four winds whenever he/she is outed, usually by the alarm calls of the local blue jays, so we know to look for the hawk whenever the feeders are bereft of birds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> I have a devil of a time differentiating a sharp-shinned hawk from a Cooper’s hawk. They’re virtually identical, though a Cooper’s is substantially larger on average than a sharpie. But a female sharpie can almost be as big as a male Cooper’s (female raptors are larger than males), so size can’t always be used as a determinant. You have to use a combination of field marks to draw a conclusion, and even then, I’m seldom 100% certain. So, we may have an adult male Cooper’s, but that’s an ID differentiation that is meaningless to the birds at our feeders since both species avidly eat songbirds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> Meanwhile, the goldfinches are starting to molt, which clearly tells us spring is on the way. All birds molt at least once a year to replace weathered and/or worn-out feathers. Some only molt once a year, like blue jays, but others molt twice, the spring (breeding) molt usually resulting in more brilliant coloration in particular for the males.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> Finally, a small flock of pine siskins showed up at our feeders on 3/20 after being absent nearly all winter.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><b><span style="background: white;"> </span></b></span><b><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;">Turtles Still “On Ice”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> </span>Our northern turtles survive the winter underwater either on top of the sediments or buried in them, but are also known to move around on occasion. <span style="background: white; color: #050505;">Their body temperature goes down to around 34°F and remains that cold all winter long, which allows them to reduce the amount of oxygen they need. </span>Once underwater, their lungs shut down, their blood oxygen levels drop to near zero, and they start to rely on cloacal respiration. The blood vessels around the cloaca (their butt) are able to take up oxygen directly from the water. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> If oxygen levels drop very low, snapping and painted turtles can switch to anaerobic respiration, which does not require oxygen. This can cause lactic acid build-up, but t<span style="background: white; color: #050505;">hey can deal with it because they've got a heavy shell with a lot of calcium and carbonates in it that neutralize the acids. So, the shell, in addition to offering physical protection, helps maintain their body chemistry while they're living underwater. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Sandhill Cranes Returning, and Time for The Crane Count<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Sandhill cranes usually begin returning to our area by the first week of April. Like great blue herons, they return before the ice is off our lakes, often feeding along the shorelines of creeks and rivers that open well before our lakes. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <span style="background: white;">Cranes are socially monogamous, often with long-term pair bonds, so most return already mated. In our area, they typically </span><span style="background: white; color: #232323;">select nest sites in or near seasonally flooded (non-woody) wetlands, while avoiding forested uplands. The presence of shallow water with emergent aquatic vegetation is very important. The nests are constructed of a mound of aquatic vegetation, grass, mud, sticks, and moss.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> Once the eggs are laid, they share incubation duties equally during daylight hours, but only females incubate at night; thus females perform about 70% of the total incubation.</span><span style="background: white; color: #232323; font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif;"></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="toggleup"> </span>The annual Midwest sandhill crane count takes place on April 15. In 2022, over 1,200 people in Wisconsin participated, their effort resulting in a count of 11,513 cranes. In Oneida County, 41 sites were observed by 51 counters, with 153 cranes tallied.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> If you’re interested in participating in Oneida County, email Bob and Jan Dall at <a href="mailto:janbobdall@gmail.com" style="color: #954f72;">janbobdall@gmail.com</a>, or call 715-401-3214.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> For Vilas and Iron counties, email Hannah Gargrave at the North Lakeland Discovery center at <a href="mailto:hannah@discoverycenter.net" style="color: #954f72;">hannah@discoverycenter.net</a>, or call 715-543-2085.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Sandhill cranes have had an incredible recovery over the last 70 years. Only a dozen pairs were known to occur in Wisconsin in 1936, but through various concerted conservation efforts, now an estimated 90,000 thrive in the Eastern United States.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> By the way, counting is actually very easy – the hard part is getting up early! So, if you are worried that you don’t know enough to participate, it’s really rather simple to listen for their exceptionally loud unison calls, and jot down when you hear them. That’s fundamentally all there is to it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="toggleup"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>2023 Great Backyard Bird Count <o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The 2023 Great Backyard Bird Count in February exceeded all expectations. Organizers estimate that more than 555,000 participants from 202 participating countries made the latest count the best ever. Participants reported 7,538 bird species and uploaded more than 151,000 photos, videos, and sounds. The highest number of checklists submitted came from the U..S., with India second, and Canada third.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Colombia took the crown as the country with the most species reported, with a mind-boggling 1,293. Ecuador and India followed, both reporting more than 1,000 species. The U.S. ranked tenth with 669 species.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> In Wisconsin, 134 species were reported on 4,807 checklists from all 72 counties.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b>IPCC Report<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, or IPCC, recently issued a report that marks the conclusion of an eight-year, international effort to analyze the best and most current scientific understanding about climate change. It synthesizes a voluminous amount of research on everything from the physical science of the world’s climate system, to the vulnerabilities of economies and ecosystems, to ways of reducing the impact of global warming and building resilience.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Here’s the bottom line: Without major policy and behavior changes, the average global temperature is likely to rise above the internationally determined benchmark of 2.7°F above pre-industrial temperatures, likely within the next decade. Scientists estimate that’s the point beyond which climate disasters may risk irreversible damage to Earth’s ecosystems.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> The report is crystal clear about the cause: “Human activities, principally through emissions of greenhouse gases, have unequivocally caused global warming. Widespread and rapid changes in the atmosphere, ocean, cryosphere and biosphere have occurred. Human-caused climate change is already affecting many weather and climate extremes in every region across the globe.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> Here's the final kicker if we choose to not act: No matter what we do now, temperatures will continue to increase because greenhouse gas emissions are cumulative. Think of the atmosphere as a bucket – what we put into the air 50 years ago is still there, and what carbon dioxide that we continue to put in will be there for another 300 to 1,000 years. Other heat-trapping gases, such as methane, have shorter lives, but they cause greater increases in temperature.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> So, what do we have to do? We literally have no choice but to limit human-caused global warming to net zero CO2 emissions. Please remember that net zero does NOT mean we don’t emit any more carbon – that’s impossible. It means instead that we figure out how to remove carbon from the atmosphere at the same rate we are emitting it, and that IS possible.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> See the report for yourself: <a href="https://www.ipcc.ch/report/sixth-assessment-report-cycle/" style="color: #954f72;">https://www.ipcc.ch/report/sixth-assessment-report-cycle/</a>. This is the very best science the world has to offer. We all owe it to our children and grandchildren to actually read it and not play politics.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;">Celestial Events<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> </span></b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;">For planet watching in April, look after dusk for brilliant Venus high in the west, and for Mars high in the southwest. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> Before sunrise, look for Saturn rising in the southeast.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> The full moon – the “Awakening/Grass Appearing/Maple Sugar Moon” – occurs on April 5, and we’re up now to 13 hours of sunlight. Who knows – the snow may actually start melting!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> The average date for ice-off in the Minocqua area is April 17, so we’re getting close.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #050505;">Thought for the Week<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #050505;"> “The more you watch the river, the more you understand what it means to apply the adjective “alive.” And it’s in those ways, just with regard to the river, the birds, or other components of the place that we separate out and name, that you begin to get an understanding of what this place is . . . The place itself is not all that important. It’s your intimacy with the place that’s really important. You can learn about God anywhere is what it comes down to. You just have to pay attention.” – Barry Lopez, <i>Syntax of the River</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p>John Bateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236364863685763320noreply@blogger.com0