A Northwoods Almanac for 10/11 – 24/24

 A Northwoods Almanac for 10/11 – 24/24  

 

Estivant Pines

         Mary and I recently spent three days in the UP’s Keweenaw Peninsula, where the highlight of the trip was a hike in the Estivant Pines Nature Sanctuary, a site considered the largest and best stand of remnant white pines left in the Upper Midwest. Over the last 20+ years, Mary and I have scoured the region looking for the best stands of remnant old-growth forest, and we both agree with that assessment – the Estivant Pines represents the best of what few remnant pine forests we have left. 

         The Nature Sanctuary was originally part of a 2,400-acre tract of land owned by Edward Estivant of Paris, who sold it to Calumet and Hecla Mining Company in 1947. It was then sold in 1968 to Universal Oil, which proceeded to cut down 300 acres of nearby forest and began plans for future logging. Hearing of this, the Michigan Nature Association (MNA) led a three-year statewide fundraising campaign to purchase 200 acres of the Estivant Pines from Universal Oil in 1973 and succeeded in making the initial acquisition. Three additional acquisitions occurred between 1989 and 2019, bringing the sanctuary to 570.5 acres.

         Two loop trails totaling 2.5 miles showcase the towering pines and forest. The 1-mile Cathedral Grove loop passes some of the largest and oldest giant white pines, growing more than 125 feet tall and dating back 300 years. One pine on this loop was determined to have germinated around 1695 after a wildfire swept the ridge. 

         Much of this sanctuary sits on a high ridge of volcanic bedrock that dates back to the earliest period of Earth’s history, some 1.1 billion years ago. Multiple glaciers left behind a very thin layer of soil that can support plant life but generally is not deep enough to anchor a 100-foot-tall tree. To compensate for the lack of soil, most of the pines have grown roots deep into fractures and crevices in the bedrock. Some trees have been lost to windstorms, but remarkably few have fallen considering that the sanctuary sits at an altitude that varies between 200 and 500 feet above lake level, which leaves these trees exposed to powerful winter winds that blow across Lake Superior. In the winter, the sanctuary can get more than 275 inches of snow.

         We measured the diameter of many of the pines, the largest of which was 45” in diameter at breast height. Many were between 36” and 42”.

45" diameter white pine in the Estivant Pines

 

         Below the emergent pines at Estivant, sugar maple and balsam fir dominate with very few young white pine seedlings or saplings in the understory. This can’t be explained by a paucity of seed production, since white pines begin seeding at 20 to 30 years and typically have good seed years every 3 to 5 years.

         Most projections suggest that the white pine will decline in future decades, while sugar maple and balsam fir will increase. White pine re-establishment is usually thought to require major disturbances such as fire or windstorms for reproduction in late-successional stands like this. Other studies , however, report the ability of white pine to reproduce in canopy gaps. In an extensive survey of regional white pine forests, one researcher (Fahey 2011) found that although most pines (white and red pine) were established after large wind and fire disturbances, around 35% of pines successfully re-established after smaller gap disturbances.

         Change is always the name of the game in forest communities. Carbonized tree stumps and little bits of charcoal strewn across the Estivant landscape point to a large wildfire that swept through the area in the late 1700s and likely wiped out most of the white pines that had been standing there. Just as the towering, mature pines today prevent the young pines from growing underneath, those earlier pines likely prevented few new ones from growing beneath them. 

fire-scarred white pine, photo by John Bates

         So, who knows what the future will bring for these aging relicts? It was white pine that made Michigan the nation’s leading lumber-producing state from 1860-1910, and nearly all – 99.8%+ - were cut down. What a shame it would be if this last marvelous stand, by far the largest in Michigan, failed to sustain its community of pines.

 

Orange Peel Fungus (Aleuria aurantia)

         On a far tinier scale in the middle of a different trail near Houghton-Hancock, Mary and I came across a number of  bright orange, cup-shaped mushrooms that resemble orange peels strewn on the ground. The species name, “aurantia,”  derives from the Latin word aurantia for, you guessed it, “orange.” 

         Orange peel fungus grows throughout North America, but can also be found in Chile and in Europe fruiting mainly on bare disturbed soil.

Orange peel fungus, photo by John Bates

         The orange color is derived from a chemical similar to carotenoids found in trees like sugar maple, which causes the leaves to turn a brilliant yellow and/or orange. 

         It’s said to be edible, but not choice. We don’t collect wild mushrooms, preferring to allow them to be enjoyed by others during their brief life. But it’s important to remember that picking mushrooms doesn’t kill them – the mushroom is the fruit of the fungus, akin to an apple on an apple tree.

 

Hawk Ridge

            As of 9/29, six weeks into the fall migration count at Hawk Ridge in Duluth, the professional counters have tallied over 40,000 raptors! If non-raptors (like waterfowl and songbirds) are included as well, they have counted over 170,000 total birds, of 148 different species!

            The biggest raptor day for 2024 was on 9/20 – here’s what their write-up said: 

            “The raptor flight began early, and Sharp-shinned Hawk (SS) and Kestrel movements built to a steady flow all day. Shortly after 0900, the first Broad-winged Hawk (BW) kettle appeared on the western horizon. The BW flight slowly built into larger and larger kettles, mostly overhead, until groups reached a maximum size of 800-1000 birds! . . . Low and slow Sharp-shinned Hawk and kestrels delighted onlookers hundreds of feet below the massive kettles. By days end, nearly 900 SS and over 15,000 BW had passed by the overlook!”

            A few days later on 9/22, yellow-rumped warblers took the stage, with 5,794 passing over the ridge.

            The bird of choice in the first week of October was the American robin – 7,160 cruised past the ridge on northwest winds on 10/3. 

 

Baby Snapper Survival

            Jeff Kenkel wrote on 10/1: “We have a long, shared,  gravel road to our eastern Presque Isle place. At two locations it crosses the creek which emanates from the lake we are on. We frequently see turtles here in the spring looking to and laying eggs.  We always wonder if/ how many will survive. 

            “Rather suddenly, about a week ago, several holes were dug roadside in both crossing locations by what I presume was a racoon . . . How sad, I thought, to have made it this long and perhaps only days away from hatching, only to be devoured by a predator.”

            I have written in the past about the very long odds of success that our native turtles have of making it to adulthood. Here’s the best summary I’ve seen in the literature (from Susanne Kynast):

            “Reproductive success is highly variable due to the unpredictable environment. The weather during the incubation period plays an important role since embryos develop only at temperatures above 20°C (68°F) . . . 

            “In northern populations, short cool summers with high amounts of precipitation cause frequent years with complete reproductive failures. However, because survival from year to year is naturally so high for adults, reproductive failures in one year have normally little impact on lifetime reproductive success and population stability . . . 

            “Predation on nests is also extremely high. [Up to] 94 % of nests are annually destroyed by mammalian predators (skunks, raccoons, mink, red foxes), but yearly variation is high . . . Only about 14% of all clutches emerge annually. 

            “However, the lucky undisturbed nests in good years can produce up to 50 hatchlings. Still only about 15 hatchlings will leave a successful nest . . . 

            “If the air and surface temperature is too low, hatchlings attempt to overwinter in the nest, a strategy which is successful in the south, [but] in the north this strategy is fatal, and the hatchlings freeze to death . . . 

            “All those factors together cause huge fluctuations in reproductive success from year to year. It is possible that only one year of ideal climatic conditions for nesting and hatching out of 5 to 10 may be enough to maintain or increase the population, but only if nest predation is also low in that year. Predation on hatchlings and juveniles is still heavy especially during the first year, and only slightly lower during the 2nd and 3rd year. They get eaten by raccoons, mink, weasel, skunks, herons, and large fish while they are still under three inches (7.6 cm) in length.             “The probability of survival from egg to adulthood is 1 in 1445 individuals, the probability of survival from hatching to adulthood 1 in 133. This results for female snappers in a probability of death between hatching and breeding age of 99.17%. Annual recruitment into the breeding population (the number of juveniles reaching maturity in any given year) is only 1 to 1.8%.”

 

Fall Colors? And First Frost

            As of 10/4, our autumn colors have been relatively drab and dull, with occasional exceptions of brilliant red maples and sumac. My best guess is that our very dry weather over the last two months has conspired to reduce the vibrancy of color. But, I’ve been fooled many times before trying to project the scope and reasons for our autumn display, so time will tell.

            Our first frost finally occurred on the morning of 10/4, which might hasten the colors.

 

Celestial Events

         As of 10/14, we’re down to 10 hours and 59 minutes of sunlight. Look this night after dusk for Saturn just below the waxing gibbous moon.

         Look on 10/17 for the full moon – the “Hunter’s Moon” or “Falling Leaves Moon” – which will be this year’s closest, and therefore largest, full moon. 

         Our average low temperature drops to 32° as of 10/17, this for the first time since April 26. We now begin (for Minocqua) a string of 194 days on average that will be at or below 32°.

         Look for the peak Orionid meteor shower during the predawn of 10/21. 

 

Thought for the Week

            If the only prayer you said was “thank you,” that would be enough. – Eckhart von Hochheim

 

A Northwoods Almanac for 9/27 – 10/10/24

 A Northwoods Almanac for 9/27 – 10/10/24 

 

Eagles Migrating

            Jerry Crabtree in Hazelhurst emailed me on 9/17 saying, “We witnessed 10 bald eagles congregating and circling high up to the north of our lake. Five of them eventually headed south. Are they starting to migrate?  We have had a pair on our lake for many, many years.”
            Eagles are currently migrating out of the north, and actually migrating began a lot earlier in the month. Hawk Ridge in Duluth had a high count of 234 bald eagles passing over the ridge on 9/2, 189 on 9/7, 99, on 9/6, 86 on 9/8, 71 on 9/9 and 51 on 9/12. And they’re still coming.

            I asked Ron Eckstein, retired WDNR wildlife manager and eagle bander extraordinaire, about where the migration of our local eagle population takes them to, and I was surprised at his answer. Juvenile and two-to-three-year-old eagles fan out, going as far south as major reservoirs in Oklahoma and Tennessee, as well as along major rivers like the Ohio and the Mississippi.

            However, adult eagles– five-years old and older – all stay in Wisconsin, though some may dally on the other side of the Mississippi River in Minnesota. They apparently choose to stay closer to their breeding territories, whereas the younger eagles are more footloose (wingloose?).             Breeding bald eagles return to their nesting territories very early in the “spring,” typically by late February or early March, and are typically on nest, incubating eggs by April 1. 

 

Sightings: Cedar Waxwings and Robins Migrating, Snappers “Migrating” Too

            Mary and I can vouch for the fact cedar waxwings and American robins are currently migrating, because a flock of each one of these species has been in our yard eating every last mountain ash berry, elderberry, nannyberry, and dogwood berry we have. I’ve determined that robins were named as such because they are in fact robbers! I’ve asked them to please leave some berries for our anticipated Canadian winter visitors, the pine grosbeaks and bohemian waxwings. But no, the greedy little devils have taken them all. 

            I laugh at myself for getting mad at them – we did plant the trees specifically for birds to utilize. I just have to accept I have no control over when that happens.

cedar waxwing, photo by Bev Engstrom

            Snappers: Chuck Stonecipher on Circle Lily Lake in Manitowish Waters helped 22 baby snapping turtles find their way across the road on 9/18. Our very warm September has likely made it possible for most, if not all, snappers to hatch out and leave their nests this fall rather than for some to overwinter in their nests. The tiny snappers’ emergence is a migration of sorts, too, albeit far shorter, but not without all the dangers inherent in any migratory journey.

baby snapper, photo by Mark Westphal

 

Aspen Dieback

            Jill Wilm in Presque Isle wrote to me: “I’ve noticed that a great number of the aspen trees have lost their leaves prematurely and the fallen leaves are brown/black/curled and clearly diseased. Any idea what’s going on with them?”

            I almost always refer these questions to Linda Williams, Forest Health Specialist for the WDNR in Rhinelander, who really knows her stuff. 

             Her response: “This year we had a lot of rainfall in the spring and early summer that promotes fungal disease. Very early in the growing season the leaves of many aspen trees were heavily infected by leaf disease. Those leaves remained small and off-color for the entire growing season, although they didn’t develop the typical dead leaf blotches until more recently. It was easiest to see the small leaves and off-color leaves from a distance, especially when trees growing nearby had normal non-infected leaves. The diseased leaves are what you see dropping at this time. 

            “I sent in a number of samples earlier this summer and so far Marsonina Leaf Spot is the primary culprit, with Phylosticta Leaf Disease and Venturia Leaf Blight showing up on a few of the samples. We are still analyzing samples as well, just in case we missed something.  

            “All of these leaf diseases will not kill the tree.  Some trees may have been a little stressed by not having fully functional leaves for the growing season, and those trees may be attacked by Bronze Poplar Borer, which will start by attacking a few branches in the very upper parts of the tree and can kill some of those upper branches, but that damage may not show up until next year. 

            “Next year your trees should leaf out normally. Some of them may end up with some upper branches that die, but overall I anticipate that they should be ok next year. And if we have a more normal amount of rainfall next year we shouldn’t see as much leaf disease.”

 

Freshwater Jellyfish

            Bob McGucken from Mermaid Lake in Presque Isle wrote to me on 9/16: “I have been on this 67 acre (56 feet deep) lake for 26 years now. Approximately 5 weeks ago, I noticed thousands upon thousands of freshwater jellyfish. I have never seen these in the 26 years that I have been on the lake. They were still present as of yesterday. What would cause there to be a sudden explosion of these creatures? Why have I never seen them before?  I spend a lot of time on the water every year, so I am pretty certain that I would have noticed them if they were present in the past.”

         If you’re not familiar with freshwater jellyfish, they are quarter-sized, typically hover in the water column from several inches deep to as far down as one can see, and are translucent with a cross shape on their back. 

range map for freshwater jellyfish

         It’s thought that the jellyfish are one of two species native to China, both of which (Craspedacusta sowerbii and C. sinensis) live in the Yangtze River. Freshwater jellyfish were unknown outside of China until 1880 when the jellyfish were found swimming in a large, water-lily tank at the Royal Botanic Gardens outside London, England. Four years later in 1884, immature jellyfish polyps were found in a stream in Pennsylvania.      

            The earliest record of freshwater jellyfish in Wisconsin was in 1969 in a farm pond in Sauk County where wood ducks are speculated to have carried them to the pond. Since then jellyfish have been found in upwards of 100 different water bodies in the state. The last record I’m aware of was from 2020 in Hunter Lake in Vilas County. These "jellyfish waters" vary in size from tiny ponds to lakes 9,842 acres in size (Lake Mendota) and 236 feet deep (Big Green Lake). 

            Why did the jellyfish just show up this year in Mermaid Lake? The US Geological Service website says this: “Craspedacusta sowerbii more often exist as microscopic podocysts (dormant "resting bodies"), frustules (larvae produced asexually by budding), planulae (larvae produced sexually by the hydromedusae), or as sessile polyps, which attach to stable surfaces and can form colonies consisting of two to four individuals and measuring 5 to 8 mm.”

            Well, that’s a lot of difficult scientific terminology, but it does tell me that when folks ask why freshwater jellyfish have suddenly shown up in their lake, the jellyfish may actually have been there for many years in one of the forms described above. 

         The literature on the jellyfish’s natural history in Wisconsin says to look for jellyfish when lake shallows warm rapidly during spring. The jellyfish emerge in mid-June and are restricted to a narrow band of water temperature between 65 to 75 degrees. If the water surface of a lake becomes warmer than 75°, as some of our lakes do during hot summer afternoons, the jellyfish congregate in deeper water where they can find their preferred temperature range. 

         The jellyfish feed on zooplankton and capture even larger prey, such as water mites and insect midge larvae. Their impact, if any, is unclear. While their preference for large zooplankton could influence zooplankton species structure, no one knows if this is an issue.

         These tiny jellyfish are not dangerous to humans. The mature jellyfish live a few weeks, release eggs, and die.

          

Germany’s Use of Renewable Energy – For the Record

         In his closing statement during the recent presidential debate, Donald Trump made a comment that earned a pointed response from the German government: “You [Kamala Harris] believe in things like we're not going to frack, we’re not going to take fossil fuel . . . Germany tried that and within one year they were back to building normal energy plants.”

         Germany’s Federal Foreign Office responded immediately: “Germany’s energy system is fully operational, with more than 50% renewables. And we are shutting down—not building—coal and nuclear plants. Coal will be off the grid by 2038 at the latest.” 

         Germany’s electricity system has made a steady shift from fossil fuels and nuclear to renewables. Wind, solar and other renewables were 54 percent of the country’s electricity generation last year, an increase from 24 percent in 2013.

         However, outside the electricity sector, Germany has struggled to make a shift away from fossil fuels, including for heating buildings and for transportation. Natural gas is the major fuel used for heating buildings in Germany. The country got the majority of its natural gas from Russia, but phased down those purchases in 2022 in response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. They’re now building liquid natural gas terminals to process natural gas imports from other countries.

         The point here is that is that energy use is complex and varies from country to country. As examples, Albania, Iceland, and Paraguay obtain essentially all of their electricity now from renewable sources (Albania and Paraguay 100% from hydroelectricity, Iceland 72% hydro and 28% geothermal). In Scotland, renewable energy technologies in 2022 generated the equivalent of 113% of their overall electricity consumption. Ethiopia produces 123% of its own annual electricity needs. See https://www.iea.org/countries for energy production for every county in the world.

         What is simple about energy use, however, is the need for both major political parties in the U.S. to fully support investment in renewables and actions to reduce carbon emissions. The transition to net zero – the balance between the amount of greenhouse gas that's produced and the amount that's removed from the atmosphere – is reachable and inevitable. The debate has to be about how to execute the conversion as far and as quickly as feasible, not whether to do it.

 

Celestial Events

         For stargazing in October, look after dusk very low in the northwest for brilliant Venus, high in the southeast for Saturn, and for Jupiter rising in the northeast around 8 p.m. 

         Before dawn, look high in the south for Mars.

         The new moon occurs on 10/2. It will be at its apogee – the farthest from Earth in 2024 at 252,597 miles.

         On 10/4/1957, Russia launched Sputnik 1, the first artificial satellite to orbit the Earth. Sixty-seven years later, the most recent figure I can find on the current number of satellites comes from May 2024 – 9,900. 

         On 10/5, look after dusk for Venus about 3 degrees above the waxing crescent moon. How much is 3 degrees? Holding your hand at arm’s length and looking up, your pinkie finger is one degree, while your closed fist is 5 degrees.

 

Thought for the Week

            I cannot pretend I am without fear. But my predominant feeling is one of gratitude. I have loved and been loved; I have been given much and I have given something in return . . . Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure. – Oliver Sacks

 

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

 

A Northwoods Almanac for 9/13-26, 2024

 A Northwoods Almanac for 9/13-26, 2024

 

Nighthawks! 

8/26/23 was a nighthawk flight to remember. Between 6 AM and 4 PM at Hawk Ridge in Duluth, MN, counters tallied nearly 12,000 nighthawks flying along the shore, most of those coming earlier in the day. Some single flocks were over 1,000 birds. 

Then, shortly after 5 PM, the floodgates opened again and didn’t stop until sunset. Hundreds of nighthawks were passing every second. There were easily thousands of birds in view at any given moment! 

Between 5pm and dusk, over 23,000 nighthawk had flown by, bringing the cumulative daily total to over 35,000! 

These were unprecedented numbers and exceptionally encouraging for a species that has seen an overall decline. Cornell’s “Birds of the World” notes that recent Breeding Bird Survey data suggest a substantial decline in numbers of this species, perhaps owing to increased predation, indiscriminate use of pesticides leading to lowered insect numbers, or habitat loss. Nighthawks are listed as Threatened in Canada – a decline of about 50% has been noted there over the past three generations. In the United States, nighthawks are considered critically imperiled or imperiled in Connecticut, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Delaware.

nighthawk, photo by Mark Westphal

 

Blue Jay and Broad-winged Hawk Migration

            Blue jays may remain over the winter at your home, or they may migrate. What triggers an individual to stay while another leaves is unclear, but blue jays have been on the move. On 9/1, counters at Hawk Ridge in Duluth tallied 1,122 blue jays flying over the ridge. The Hawk Ridge record count for blue jays was just last year on 9/10 when 14,054 cruised by, so there are more to come. 

While most blue jays are permanent residents, it’s believed that about 20 percent of the population regularly migrates. Breeding jays may be migratory one year, sedentary the next, then again migratory in a subsequent year. Adult jays that presumably breed at one location may summer substantially farther south in subsequent years. And sometimes jays captured and marked as adults during winter have been recaptured substantially farther south in subsequent winters.

In other words, blue jays do whatever the heck they want any given year, and no one really knows why.

            Broad-winged hawks are the usual stars of the show at Hawk Ridge. The record count was over 101,000 on 9/15/2003, with the next highest count at nearly 48,000 on 9/18/1993. Weather conditions have to come together perfectly for massive flights like these, the best scenario being three days of rain to ground the birds in mid-September, then a blast of cold with winds out of the north or west to release all those that have been waiting out the rain.

            Hawk Ridge holds a weekend festival every September, which I highly recommend attending. Bird migration research and education programs have been shared with visitors throughout the world each fall at Hawk Ridge for over 50 years. This year’s event occurs from 9/20-22 – see www.hawkridge.org. If the winds are right, you can have the birding thrill of a lifetime. And if the winds are wrong, well, you’ll have a lovely time overlooking Lake Superior with hundreds of other like-minded, but disappointed folks.  

 

Nodding Ladies’-Tresses

            Mary, Callie, and I found a colony of nodding ladies’-tresses orchids in flower in late August, and as of 9/5, they’re still in bloom. The white flowers grow in a tight spiral on a tall stem, and each blossom “nods,” or tips down slightly, giving it its name. They are thriving in a recently mowed meadow, which apparently is a habitat they prefer along with roadside ditches. One doesn’t tend to think of orchids living in such disturbed habitats, but this species excels there, and over time disappears as the site matures.

nodding ladies'-tresses, photo by John Bates

            I wasn’t sure what a “ladies tress” was, so I looked it up and found that it refers to the inflorescence which resembled to some highly imaginative soul the braided locks of hair worn by women. To come to this likeness I think would require a full bottle of wine first.

 

Trees and Shrubs for the Birds

Over the years, Mary and I have planted an array of tree and shrub species to attract birds to our yard, and our efforts have paid off. Shrubs and vines currently in fruit include pagoda dogwood, red-osier dogwood, gray dogwood, nannyberry, downy arrowwood, American elderberry, grapes, Virginia creeper (aka woodbine), blueberries, and high-bush cranberry. Plus we have volunteer raspberries and blackberries for the taking.

            The birds have already cleaned out our serviceberries (aka Juneberries), currants, chokecherries, and a lot of our crabapples, but we have a good crop of mountain ash berries and rose hips still awaiting the fall migration, and hopefully some of those will still be left for Canadian birds visiting our yard this winter. 

our honey harvest on 9/2 from our 2 hives

            Early autumn is a good time to plant trees and shrubs for attracting birds. I recommend getting a 16 page booklet published by the Wisconsin Society for Ornithology – “Creating a Bird-Friendly Yard with Native Wisconsin Plants” by Mariette Nowak. Download the pdf at https://wsobirds.org/images/pdfs/BeyondBirdFeederBookletFINAL.compressed.pdf. 

 

Wildlife Damage – Ticks Lead the Way

            I’m currently being tested for chronic Lyme disease, and it’s a pricey process. Going through this reminds me of a column I read back in February from Pat Durkin comparing the costs of Lyme disease in Wisconsin to wildlife damage claims.

            He wrote, “During 2022, the state recorded 91 babesiosis cases, as well as 17 cases of ehrlichiosis, 53 cases of Powassan virus, 511 cases of anaplasmosis, and 5,327 cases of Lyme disease. A 2016 study by the National Library of Medicine estimated each Lyme disease case costs society about $2,000 and each patient $1,200. That’s 6,044 diagnosed tick-borne diseases at $2K each for Wisconsin, totaling an estimated $12.1 million in medical costs for 2022. 

            “According to the DNR’s 2022 report on wildlife damage claims and abatements . . . agricultural damage in [the] 26 northern counties in 2022 was:

            “$40,372 from turkeys, 98% of the statewide $40,990 total.

            “$65,131 from elk, 100% of the statewide total.

            “$137,535 from black bears, 92% of the statewide $148,744 total.

            “$270,951 from white-tailed deer, 25% of the statewide $1.06 million total.

            “For comparison, wolves caused $171,386 in damage in 2023 . . . and $177,000 on average from 2019 through 2023 across their range in Wisconsin's northern and central forests.” 

            To put this into further perspective, it’s hard these days to buy a decent two-bedroom home in the Northwoods for under $300,000. Thus, wolf damage isn’t even equal to the cost of a single house. And keep in mind, deer cause far more damage than all other wildlife species combined.

But none of them cause as much damage as ticks.

            

Thinking of Moving to Phoenix?

On 9/3, temperatures in Phoenix, AZ, hit 100 degrees for the 100th day in a row. The longest previous 100-degree streak was 76 days in 1993. This year has seen an uninterrupted stretch of 100-degrees days at least 3½ weeks longer than in any other year since records began in 1896. The streak, which began on May 27 with a high of 102, shows no sign of ending. Long-range forecast models suggest that highs could reach the century mark or more for two more weeks.

For comparison, last weekend on 9/6 and 9/7, the highs here were predicted to be in the upper 50’s, to which I say, “Hooray!”

 

Autumn Equinox

The official autumnal equinox varies from year to year, occurring between September 20 and September 23. This year it’s on the 22^nd, and on this day, the sun’s direct rays will move across the equator and continue to migrate south, slowly bringing spring to the southern hemisphere and winter to the north. The sun rises on the equinox at around 6:51 a.m. and sets at 6:49 p.m. Now our days will be getting shorter by more than 3 minutes every day.

The ancient Celts called the passing of the autumn equinox Mabon. Mabon marked the end of the grain harvest, and was considered a time of thanksgiving when most of the crops were reaped and life’s abundance was so appreciated. 

As an “advanced” society, we note the passing of solstice and equinox as little more than quaint, old-timey notions. Most of us are so far removed from spring planting and fall gathering, harvesting, and storing that these events have faded in significance.

Mary and I are still trying to honor the fall gathering. We have already canned strawberry-rhubarb sauce and peaches, frozen many quarts of blueberries, and harvested 13 quarts of honey from our two hives on 9/2. We’ve also been eating kale, carrots, zucchini, peas, tomatoes, beans, and various herbs from the garden, with applesauce from our apples yet to come.

As of 9/6, we’ve yet to have a frost. In these days of climate change, the first frost date keeps moving into later September, so the garden continues to keep on giving. For the first 20 years that we lived here, 1984 to 2004 or so, we always had a frost around August 20.

 

Celestial Events

            The full moon – aka the Harvest Moon or Acorns or Leaves Changing Color Moon – occurs on 9/17. A partial lunar eclipse will be visible that evening. The moon will just graze the Earth’s umbral shadow, and become noticeably darker for about 30 minutes on either side of the the maximum eclipse at 9:44 p.m. Only 8% of the moon’s diameter will be covered. 

The steady golden light just below the eclipsed moon will be the planet Saturn.

 

Thought for the Week

It dims slowly, the greening does, a slight paleness at first, from Emerald Forest Green to Pear and Moccasin brown, Chantilly and Guacamole, a yellowing of stems scattered here and there blanched by shorter days and cooler nights, curling at the edges like old photographs, fading into sepia-toned memories, and there is something comforting about this time of year, a rainy day reprieve, a rest day in between the uproar of Spring and before the brilliant crescendo of Autumn, the meticulous preparation for the long dark quiet of Winter. – Bob Kovar, Manitowish Waters

 

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

 

A Northwoods Almanac for 8/30 – 9/12, 2024

 A Northwoods Almanac for 8/30 – 9/12, 2024  

 

Sightings – Bottle Gentians, Bryozoa Colonies, Trumpeter Swan Cygnets, Sandhill Cranes, Turtlehead

            Bottle Gentians: On August 12, I paddled Plunkett Lake with a large group from ICORE – Iron County Outdoor Recreation Enthusiasts. Besides just the pleasure of being with folks that love wild lakes, the botanical highlight of the trip was the sighting of bottled, or closed, gentians growing on moss-covered logs laying in the water. I rarely see bottle gentians, and I’ve never seen them growing of what I call “bog logs.” These are trees that fell into water decades ago, were slowly colonized by mosses, and then were eventually colonized by shoreland/water-edge plants.

            Closed gentian flowers require a physically strong pollination partner. Large native bumblebees are one of the few insects that can pull the petals apart to get down to the nectar, and they’re rewarded for their effort by discovering the high sugar content in the nectar – 40%! Almost equal to a Mountain Dew! One naturalist describes them as the “soft drink” of the native plant world. 

The flowers have blue tips until they’re pollinated, and then the tip turn white. The blue flower tips apparently signal to the bees that they’ve not been pollinated and there’s some very sweet nectar awaiting them. 

Thoreau wrote of their intense blue: “[It is] a transcendent blue . . . bluer than the bluest sky.”

And in 1917 Herbert W. Faulkener wrote this about the bumblebees that enter the flowers: “I have had the pleasure of seeing a bumblebee thus enter a closed gentian with an assurance that proved he was an old burglar, experienced in ‘breaking and taking.’”

bottled gentian, photo by John Bates

Bryozoans: Cathy Trochlell sent me an email with a photo of a bryozoa colony: “I found four of these really interesting jelly-like things in my lake. Three are the size of a child's head and the fourth is the size of a softball. Feels like hard rubber. Any idea what these are?” 

Every year someone asks me about these remarkably odd creatures. I assure them that they’re not alien brains, but rather tiny colonial animals that are fairly common in our lakes and streams. Some 20 different freshwater species occur in North America and form colonies that range from moss-like growths to basketball-size gelatinous masses. The large, hard gelatin-like masses are what we most commonly see, and are called Pectinatella magnifica. Each colony is made of many individual creatures called “zooids” that are microscopic animals with a mouth, digestive tract, muscles, and nerve centers. They feed by filtering tiny algae and protozoa through a crown of tentacles (lophophore), and most are found attached to plants, logs, rocks and other firm substrates. They’re harmless and indicate good water quality.

bryozoa, photo by Cathy Trochlell

Trumpeter swan cygnets: Bob Von Holdt in Preque Isle sent me a photo and a short note to tell me the six trumpeter swan cygnets that he’s been watching since May have survived. Mary and I have likewise been watching a family of three cygnets all summer on Powell Marsh, and they are getting quite large. Trumpeter swan cygnets typically fledge at around  100 days after numerous practice flights, so we should see them up in the air sometime in September. 

 Immature trumpeters usually overwinter with their parents and return with them to the general breeding area the next spring, but then have to make it on their own. 

trumpeter swans, photo by Bob Von Holdt

Sandhill cranes: Eric Benn sent a note with a photo of a pair of cranes meandering about the side of their home in Presque Isle. He wrote, “Mid-morning on Wed 17 July we glanced out the lake-facing windows of our home on the North end of Armour Lake in Presque Isle. Walking quite deliberately up the side of the rough grassy area beyond the garden retaining wall were a pair of Sandhill Cranes. They proceeded along the side of the house and briefly looked around the turn-around in front of the house and eyed the driveway . . . They crane-walked back along the side of the house and proceeded down the fairly steep incline through the ferns, shrubs & woods toward the lake.

“We enjoy hiking the trails/berms at Powell Marsh and enjoy sighting cranes (at a distance) there, and we periodically see them roadside or in fields away from the highways when we're south of Eagle River, Rhinelander, etc. But I was certainly not aware that they explore predominately wooded areas adjacent to our N Woods lakes.

“What a delight. I take this to be an encouraging sign that the crane population is robust enough that they are expanding or exploring areas where they aren't frequently observed.”

I responded: “Sandhills seem to be both more common and more tame these days. Folks have them in their back yards, we see them on the edge of busy roads, etc., and I don’t really have an explanation why. Cranes apparently are very quick to acclimate to human presence, because many don’t take off at first sight of us. I don’t know why they don’t spook, but we are grateful recipients!”                                 

Turtlehead: The beautiful and unusual flowers of turtlehead have come into flower, their presence always signaling the curtain soon to close on our summer. At first glance, they might appear to be a white closed gentian, but the flower petals are not fully closed like the gentians – the top lip arches over the lower lip giving the unique appearance of a turtle’s head.

Turtlehead’s scientific name Chelone glabra derives from Greek mythology and a nymph named Chelone who insulted the gods; in punishment, she was turned into a turtle. Other common names include codhead, fish mouth, shellflower, snakehead, and snake mouth. 

turtlehead, photo by John Bates

 

Hummers Departing

Our local hummers are typically long gone by September 10, unless the weather stays uncharacteristically warm. But please leave your hummingbird feeders up until the end of the month, just in case any migrating hummers are still coming through. The myth that hummers won’t leave if you don’t take down their feeders is just that – a myth. Hummingbirds haven’t survived for thousands of years in our area without knowing when it’s time to get out of town. Hummers can’t tolerate cold nights, and they know it. 

 

Nighthawks Coming Through

Nighthawks begin migrating in later August, but continue their migration into September. We have watched them an hour or so before dusk on many occasions. Their hawking of insects and darting flight easily give their identity away even at a long distance. 

Nighthawks are neither exclusively night creatures nor hawks, but they bear a strong resemblance to a falcon, and they’re most often seen in the early evening. They feed on the wind by simply opening their mouths wide and swallowing whatever flies in – think of them as a flying vacuum cleaner. They flit erratically like butterflies or bats, in quick, glancing angles, and exclusively hawk insects, particularly flying ants, beetles, and mosquitoes. You might have seen them at night around a streetlight, working over the flittering moths. 

Most are heading for mid-continental South America, wintering from southern Brazil to Argentina. 

 

Monarchs Also Soon on the Move

In September, the vast majority of eastern monarchs fly southwest, funneling through Texas and finally assembling by the tens of millions in the 9,800 to 11,000-foot-high mountains west of Mexico City. The monarchs’ bodies are nearly 50 percent fat by the time they arrive in Mexico, providing enough energy to tide them through the winter. This fat is also needed to fuel them on the first lap of their flight north in the spring. Considering the body weight of a butterfly, this amount of fuel seems impossibly inadequate, but it somehow provides the energy stores needed for survival. 

No monarch makes the round trip to Mexico and back to the Northwoods. The adults who left Mexico this spring began a migratory relay, stopping to lay eggs along the way and then dying. Their larvae hatched, pupated, and new adults emerged. The next generation then flew north and arrived in our fields and forests. Summer monarchs only live three to five weeks, compared to the eight or nine months of the overwintering monarchs, so two generations may be raised during the summer before the fall generation heads back to Mexico.

As a result, the adults heading south now have never seen Mexico. How they know the way is one of the many wonders of the natural world.

 

Hemlock Wooly Adelgid Coming Our Way

            The Michigan Department of Agriculture and Rural Development recently verified a new detection of invasive hemlock woolly adelgid (HWA) on trees on a private property in Leelanau County, which is in the northeastern corner of lower Michigan. With this new detection, Leelanau becomes the ninth county in the state with active hemlock woolly adelgid infestations, joining Allegan, Antrim, Benzie, Mason, Muskegon, Oceana, Ottawa and Washtenaw counties. At risk are the estimated 170 million hemlock trees growing in Michigan forests.

Eastern hemlocks grow from the southern Appalachian region into northern New England and as far west as northwestern Wisconsin. Hemlock wooly adelgids have wreaked havoc everywhere they’ve appeared, with most areas losing 80% to 90% of their hemlocks. 

Mild winters significantly contribute to the adelgid’s spread, yet another reason for doing everything we can to stop climate change.

 

Celestial Events

            It’s almost impossible to believe it’s nearly September, but here we are! For planet-watching in September, look after dusk extremely low in the west-northwest for brilliant Venus and for Saturn rising in the east-southeast. Prior to dawn, look for Mars high in the southeast and Jupiter high in the south.

            The new moon takes place on 9/2. Look after dusk on 9/5 for Venus about one degree above the waxing sliver moon. 

            We’re down to 13 hours of sunlight as of 9/7.

 

Thought for the Week

“Be so little distracted, your thoughts so little confused, your engagements so few, your attention so free, your existence so mundane, that in all places and in all hours you can hear the sound of crickets in those seasons when they are to be heard.” – Henry David Thoreau, 1851

 

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

 

A Northwoods Almanac for 8/2- 8/15/2024

 A Northwoods Almanac for 8/2- 8/15/2024  by John Bates 

World’s Most Productive Loon Breeds Again

            From the Seney National Wildlife Refuge: “Fe, the oldest documented Common Loon, hatched two chicks last week . . . the young were, at minimum, Fe’s 41st and 42nd offspring, extending her record for the species. Most of her prior chicks were begot with her long-term consort, ABJ, during their quarter-century partnership, but since their split in spring 2022, Fe has produced young in two of three breeding seasons. Prior to first coupling with ABJ in 1997, she hatched at least seven chicks with a color-marked male known as Dewlap. 

            “The qualifiers attending Fe’s age and lifetime productivity are necessitated by her initial banding in 1990 as a successful mother, when she was at least four years old, the threshold for Common Loon reproduction. As her earlier life history in the 1980s is a mystery, Fe could well be older than 38, and with more than 42 progeny to her credit.

            “One of Fe’s 2024 young perished, from an unknown cause, within days of hatching . . . of the roughly one in five [loon chicks] who do not live to fledge from Seney in the fall, most disappear early, when as downy buoyant corks they are most vulnerable to predators and other antagonists . . . Across 35 years of monitoring Fe has – assuming her second chick makes it to autumn – fledged 86% of her offspring.”

 

Stable Wolf Population in Michigan’s U.P. Over Last 14 Years

            The 2024 winter wolf population survey estimate from the Michigan DNR found a minimum of 762 wolves in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. “This year’s survey findings are statistically consistent with our wolf population surveys for the past 14 years,” said Brian Roell, the DNR’s large carnivore specialist. “When a wild population reaches this stable point, it is typical to see slight variations from year to year, indicating that gray wolves may have reached their biological carrying capacity in the Upper Peninsula.”

            In other words, Michigan’s U.P. wolf population has achieved an equilibrium between availability of habitat and the number of wolves that habitat can support over time.

 

Wild Roses, Boneset and Spotted Joe-Pye-Weed

            I paddled Upson Lake in northern Iron County on 7/20 and was impressed by the abundance of wild roses along much of the shoreline. Mid-to-late July offers three of the most beautiful wildflower fragrances in the Northwoods: Wild rose, common milkweed, and spreading dogbane. Walking by an abundance of any of these with a slight wind to dance the perfume your way and that’s about as close to heaven as one can get.

Wild rose, photo by John Bates

            I also spied an array of boneset along a beaver dam that was holding back about three feet of water on the lake, water that is on its way down a short unnamed creek into the Potato River. Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) has always intrigued me because of its name. Was it really somehow used in the treatment of broken bones? In Mary Siisip Geniusz’s remarkable book Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have to Do Is Ask, she states that “boneset’s chief virtue is that it is specific to the periosteum tissue around the outside of a bone. When a bone is broken, this tissue may be cut. For the bone to regrow properly, this tissue has to be mended, and this plant helps the body do that.” 

boneset, photo by John Bates

            John Eastman in his book Swamp and Bog writes, “It reportedly became one of the most effective relief medicines during nineteenth-and early twentieth-century flu epidemics.” And it was used a treatment for “breakbone” fever, now called dengue fever, which was characterized by severe pain in the joints.

            Boneset is also known as “shield and lance plant” because of the way the leaves appear to be pierced by the stalk, the stalk acting as a “lance” to pierce the leaf’s “shield.” See the photo. 

            Joe-Pye-weed (Eutrochium maculatum) got its name as the Anglicized version of an Algonquian medicine man named Zhopai who used a combination of Joe-Pye and boneset to cure typhoid fever (read the full story of Zhopai in Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have to Do Is Ask). Joe-Pye usually rises six or more feet tall on wetland edges and produces 9 to 22 tiny pink to purple flowers in a flat-topped cluster.

Joe-Pyne weed, photo by John Bates

            Eastman notes that numerous Native American tribes “regarded the flowers as good-luck charms, especially effective for winning at gambling.” So, next time you head off to the casino to lose your mortgage money, try taking a bouquet of Joe-Pye along and see if that helps. You never know!

 

The Invisible Present

            UW Limnologist John Magnuson coined the phrase “the invisible present” to describe how we’re often unable to make sense of the present if we don’t have accurate data from the past. He was referencing environmental changes that happen outside of speeds and timeframes that go unperceived: A glacier retreating, a river or lake slowly losing fish, effects of DDT on songbirds, forests changing, loons declining, and on and on.

            Because our time scale is so short – our lifetime – and our memories are so fallible, we are limited in our ability to notice changes, and even more limited in interpreting cause-and-effect relationships. The changes are hidden to us – they’re invisible.  

            Magnuson said in order to make the present visible, we need accurate historical memory via long-term research, and the longer, the better. The longest continuous environmental record in the world is of the flowering date of cherry trees in Kyoto, Japan. From 812 AD to the present, 1212 years of data, the cherry blossom time series shows the average peak bloom date was relatively stable for about 1,000 years, from about 812 to 1800. But then, the peak bloom dates slope abruptly downward, revealing a shift earlier and earlier in the spring. In 2023, the peak cherry blossom happened on 25 March — the earliest date since recording began.

            Here in the Northwoods, Magnuson, along with many other scientists, was trying to answer broad questions like what is normal for a lake? What are average water levels, dissolved oxygen, various nutrient concentrations, fish populations, etc.?

            All of us non-scientists ask the same sort of questions: Weren’t there more birds at my feeders last year?  It seems rainier this year – is it? Is it rainier than a decade ago? Boy, the mosquitoes are terrible – are they worse than ever? What about ticks – were they even here 20 years ago? Seems like there were more fish here a decade ago – is that true?

            The problem with most scientific research is that it’s on a 3-year grant cycle for someone’s PhD or on the length that meets the requirements of a grant funder. A short timeframe is only a snapshot, and incapable of answering long-term questions. For instance, water levels are still high on lots of lakes in our area – is that normal? Well, yes! UW Trout Lake Limnology Lab has long-term data on lake levels showing that on average we go through 13-year cycles of high and low water (see the graph). We had very low water levels beginning in the early 2000s through 2012, but then our precipitation increased and water levels quickly shot back up. The result has been a dieback of many shoreline shrubs and trees, and an alteration of emergent and submergent aquatic vegetation that isn’t adapted to such continuous high water.

           

 Bottom line: We can’t understand historical change nor predict future change without long-term research. Without it, it’s like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle without the reference picture. 

 

Swamp Candles, A Native Loosestrife

            Swamp candles or bog loosestrife (Lysimachia terrestris) has come abundantly into flower, lighting up many wetland edges. Unlike purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) which often completely takes over a wetland, swamp candles are native and have no aspirations to conquer their plant neighbors.

Swamp candles, photo by John Bates

 

            Herein is the problem with common names. The two species are unrelated. A rose may be a rose by any other name, but not so with loosestrifes.

            The name Lysimachia was given in honor of Lysimachus, a bodyguard to Alexander the Great. Legend has it the Lysimachus pacified a raging bull by waving a branch of loosestrife in front of it, the plant being known for its calming properties over 2,000 years ago.

            According to more recent folklore, swamp candles were still said to have soothing powers over animals, leading people to tie a branch of the plant to the yoke of oxen to make them easier to handle.

 

July 21 and 22 Were The Hottest Days Ever Recorded on Earth

            Global temperatures hit the highest levels in recorded history on Sunday, July 21, and then were bested on July 22. On those days, triple-digit temperatures in the western United States fueled out-of-control wildfires, while around much of Antarctica, temperatures were as much as 22 degrees Fahrenheit above normal. 

            The historic days come on the heels of 13 straight months of unprecedented temperatures and the hottest year scientists have ever seen. The average temperature for the year is almost certain to exceed 2.7 Fahrenheit above preindustrial levels – surpassing what scientists say is the threshold for tolerable warming.

 

Celestial Events

            For planet watching in August, look after dusk for Venus very low in the west-northwest and Saturn rising in the east-southeast. Look before dawn for Mars and Jupiter both high in the southeast.

            The new moon occurs on 8/4.

            The midway point between summer solstice and autumn equinox takes place on 8/6.

            The famous Perseid Meteor Shower averages 60 meteors per hours and occurs from 8/10 to 8/13 with the peak during the predawn on the 12^th. The meteors are colorful, frequently leave persistent trains, and tend to strengthen in number as late night deepens into the wee hours before dawn, so make a point of getting up early. The shower is often best just before dawn.

            On 8/14, look for Mars just north of Jupiter in the early morning hours.

 

Thought for the Week

            “Everything depends, of course, on whether you think landscape is dead matter or whether you think it is a living presence.” – John O’Donahue