A Northwoods Almanac for August 23, 2019

A Northwoods Almanac for August 23 – September 5, 2019  

Sightings

Over the last several weeks, we’ve had a hummingbird clearwing moth (Hemaris thysbe) patrolling the bee balm flowers in our perennial garden. Found in the sphinx (hawk) moth family Sphingidae, these moths hover while feeding on flower nectar. We’ve identified three species in our yard over the years, but I’ll bet there’ve been more and we’ve just failed to notice them.

At one and a half inches long, hummingbird clearwings are only half the size of a ruby-throated hummingbird, but they beat their wings at the same impossibly fast rate, and nectar at many different flowers, so it’s easy to think you’ve just discovered a new species of hummingbird. The quick way to know you don’t have a bird is that the moths sport two long antennae, a feature birds simply don’t have.

hummingbird moth photo by John Bates

In caterpillar form, the hummingbird moth is a beautiful lime green with spots along its side and a horn on its back end. They feed on the leaves of honeysuckles, dogbanes, viburnums, snowberries, and others. When the caterpillars are full grown in autumn, they drop to the ground and winter in cocoons in the leaf litter. Since leaf litter is essential to their survival, raking your fall leaves for an immaculate lawn is a death sentence to them; yet another good reason to forsake the rake.  

Late August Flowers

In bloom now: various goldenrods, large-leaf asters, and turtlehead, among many others. 

            Most everyone recognizes goldenrods, but exact species identification is difficult given the many species found in the Northwoods. Goldenrods spread through underground rhizomes which send up new shoots every year. Colonies of clonal goldenrod can become very dense and large, and some are estimated to be 100 years old. 

goldenrod photo by John Bates

            The reputed healing power of goldenrods was the source of the genus name Solidago, meaning in Latin “to make whole”. Ojibwe Indians called it the “sun medicine”, and used it for fevers, sore throats, chest pains, and other ailments. 

            Hay fever sufferers in late summer often blame the flower plumes of goldenrod for their ills, but the blame belongs mostly with ragweed. Goldenrod is insect pollinated, not wind pollinated like ragweed. Insect pollinated plants send very little pollen into the air because the pollen is too heavy; thus goldenrod is absolved of hay fever blame. 

We have many species of asters, varying greatly in color, size, and habitat. But the most common aster in relatively open woods is the large-leaf aster, often forming dense clonal colonies that exclude virtually every other plant species. 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.

William Quayle in 1907 wrote that asters were “stars fetched from the night skies and planted on the fields of day.” Asteris 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”). Autumn days in the Northwoods are brightly colored not only by the changing leaves but by these hardy flowers which can last well into October.

Finally, when we see turtlehead in flower, it tells us unequivocally that summer is coming to an end. The flowers of this plant look, with a little imagination, like the heads of turtles. Thus, turtlehead was given the scientific name Chelone glabra, because in Greek mythology, the nymph Chelone insulted the gods and in punishment was turned into a turtle. Glabra is from the Latin word meaning “smooth” because of the lack of hairs on the stems and leaves.

turtlehead photo by John Bates 

Goldfinch and Cedar Waxwings: Last to Nest

            Insect-eating songbirds are heading south to stay ahead of the frosts, but American goldfinches and cedar waxwings may still be feeding their chicks. Cedar waxwings often breed late in the year, apparently timed with the availability of summer-ripening fruits. If they nest a second time, they may lay eggs in late August or even later. Unlike many other bird species, their populations have increased during the last 20 years over much of North America likely due to the ever-increasing edge habitats that support fruiting trees and shrubs, especially where farmlands regenerate to forests, and the planting of fruiting trees and shrubs in rural and urban areas. 

Goldfinches normally wait to nest until late June or early July which is thought to be due to their close relationship with the flowering of thistles, an important food plant. In the Northeastern U.S, they may lay eggs as late as mid-August. If there is time for a second nesting, the female abandons the first brood to her mate, then leaves to find another mate.

Hummers on the Move

Late August means it’s time for hummingbirds to be departing. The males leave first, sometimes as early as mid-July. The females follow next, and then the young, who are left to migrate for their first time all alone. Like nearly all juvenile birds that migrate on their own, their DNA is preset to send them a certain direction for a certain distance, which in their case is to Central America. You can follow the migration of hummingbirds on the Journey North website: www.journeynorth.org/hummingbirds. 

Hummingbirds double their weight as they prepare to fly thousands of miles, so keep your feeders out into early October to help provide energy to those who are coming down through our area from Canada.

A Pond is a Lake by Any Other Name

When does a pond become a lake, or a stream become a river, or a hill become a mountain? Well, it’s all semantics, since there is no official definition for any of these terms. But the attempts at definitions become important when there’s regional pride involved – then, the definitions become a matter for debate. In Wisconsin, we have 15,074 lakes, according to our WDNR. On the other hand, our neighbor Minnesota, the “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” counts a paltry 11,842, according to their DNR.  

But here’s where the definitional rubber hits the road. Minnesota defines a lake as a body of water greater than 10 acres in area. In Wisconsin, we define a lake as a waterbody over 2.2 acres, a size at which most of us would just call a “pond.” In fact, 60% (over 9,000!) of our 15,074 Wisconsin lakes are so small they don’t even have names. If our Wisconsin DNR used Minnesota’s standard of 10 acres, we’d be bragging about just 5,898 lakes. And interestingly, if Minnesota’s applied its own definition of 10 acres or more to waterbodies within its boundaries, they actually have 11,842 lakes. Thus, Minnesota license plates should read “Land of 11,842 Lakes.”

Why not claim the greater number? Well, Chamber of Commerce types believe it’s too much of a mouthful to say, so Minnesota has chosen a number both easier to say and to remember – 10,000! It’s inaccurate and understated, but also a clever marketing ploy!

So, where can we turn for “the truth” on these definitions? The U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) should be our “go to” source, but are they? Nope. The USGS has no official definition of a lake – it lists lakes and ponds in a single category, as well as mountains and hills in a single category, and rivers and creeks in one category. 

To confuse matters further, sometimes rivers widen, and we call the widening a “lake.” Consider the Manitowish River which has Sturgeon Lake and Vance Lake just below the Rest Lake Dam, as well as Benson Lake further downstream, all of which are rather small widenings of the river. When does a widening become a lake of its own? Well, consider that lake property sells for more than river property, and you may have the answer.

I should add that this isn’t just a Midwestern debate. In Massachusetts, Thoreau’s Walden Pond measures 65 acres, which is definitely a lake by both Minnesota and Wisconsin standards.

Hottest July Globally in the 140-Year Record  

The average global temperature in July was 1.71 degrees F above the 20th-century average of 60.4 degrees, making it the hottest July in the 140-year record, according to scientists at NOAA’s National Centers for Environmental Information. The previous hottest month on record was July 2016. 

Nine of the 10 hottest Julys have occurred since 2005—with the last five years ranking as the five hottest. Last month was also the 43rd consecutive July and 415th consecutive month with above-average global temperatures.

Average Arctic sea ice also set a record low for July, running 19.8% below average – surpassing the previous historic low of July 2012. And the average Antarctic sea-ice coverage was 4.3% below the 1981-2010 average, making it the smallest for July in the 41-year record. 

Demonstrating the difference between local weather and global climate, some localities were cooler in July: Parts of Scandinavia and western and eastern Russia had temperatures at least 2.7 degrees F below average. 

87 Percent of Americans Still Unaware There's Scientific Consensus on Climate Change       

According to a report published in July, only 13 percent of Americans were able to correctly identify that more than 97 percent of all climate scientists have concluded that climate change is real. Given the consequences of our lack of knowledge and resultant inaction, we’re surely tempting a profoundly difficult fate for ourselves, but in particular for our children. 

Celestial Events

            The new moon occurs on 8/30. On 9/5, look after dusk for Jupiter two degrees below the waxing moon. 

Thought for the Week

            “I’m thinking it’s a paltry sense of wonder that requires something new every day. I confess: Wonder is easy when you travel to desert islands in search of experiences you have never imagined, in search of something you have never seen before, in search of wonder, the shock of surprise. It’s easy, and maybe it’s cheap. It’s not what the world asks of us. 

            “To be worth of the astonishing world, a sense of wonder will be a way of life, in every place and time, no matter how familiar; to listen in the dark of every night, to praise the mystery of every returning day, to be astonished again and again, to be grateful with an intensity that cannot be distinguished from joy.” – Kathleen Dean Moore, Wild Comfort

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

A Northwoods Almanac for 8/9/19

A Northwoods Almanac for August 9 – 22, 2019  by John Bates

Derechos

A “double derecho” (pronounced "deh-REY-cho") event caused extensive wind damage across most of northern and central Wisconsin during the evening of July 19th and the morning of July 20th. The derecho on 7/19 traveled 490 miles, beginning in east-central Minnesota, traveling through northwest, central and northeast Wisconsin, and finally dissipating in lower Michigan. The second derecho on 7/20 covered 860 miles and spread wind damage from western South Dakota across central and northeastern Wisconsin to northern lower Michigan. In total, the two derechos also produced 14 confirmed tornadoes in Wisconsin.

The most damage occurred across the northern/eastern half of Langlade and western Oconto counties where a “macroburst,” a large downburst of straight-line winds up to 100 mph, damaged just about everything over a path 15 miles wide and 25 miles long. Tens of thousands of trees and power lines were snapped or uprooted across the counties.

Derechos aren’t new to Wisconsin. The largest one on record, at least that I’m aware of, was the July 4^th, 1977, derecho which developed over western Minnesota producing frequent winds of 100 mph through northern Wisconsin. The downburst storm crossed eastern Minnesota and north-central Wisconsin, and, within four hours, snapped off tens of thousands of trees in a path 166 miles long and up to 17 miles wide. Broken and uprooted trees littered an estimated 850,000 acres of forest, of which 7 percent (60,000 acres) was virtually leveled. 

To place such an extraordinary hand upon the landscape, the 1977 storm had to come from extraordinary circumstances. Temperatures at the top of the enormous thunderstorm anvil clouds dropped to approximately –74°C (-101°F).This extraordinarily cold air fell rapidly toward the earth, warming as it fell, and then spread horizontally along the ground in the direction the storm was moving. As the tempest crossed northern Wisconsin, it generated 25 separate downbursts with the highest winds reaching 150 miles per hour. 

In the southeastern part of Sawyer County, the derecho winds hammered the Flambeau River State Forest where winds were estimated to have reached 135 mph. Nearby, the “Big Block,” the largest area of virgin forest left in Wisconsin, was completely destroyed. 

In total, the derecho traveled 800 miles in 14 hours from western Minnesota into northern Ohio, and approximately 1,000,000 acres of forest were badly damaged or destroyed 

The word "derecho" was coined by Dr. Gustavus Hinrichs, a physics professor at the University of Iowa, in a paper published in 1888. Hinrichs chose this terminology for thunderstorm-induced, straight-line winds because derecho is a Spanish word which can be defined as “direct” or “straight ahead.” Tornado is also a Spanish word, so Hinrichs was matching derecho with its opposite.

A derecho by definition is a family of erratic downburst winds which must be at least 240 miles in length. When warm, humid air rushes into a thunderstorm, colder air falls violently toward the earth's surface, hits the ground, and spreads out horizontally, sending damaging winds across a wide area. Think of it like turning the faucet on full blast in your kitchen sink – when the water hits the bottom of the sink, it splatters horizontally. Same deal for most derechos.

One other massive derecho worth noting also occurred on July 4^th, but in 1999. The Boundary Waters-Canadian Derecho was an international derecho that traveled 1,300 miles and lasted 22 hours.The storm manufactured cloud tops up to 65,000 feet high and generated winds in excess of 100 miles per hour, snapping trees in a swath nearly 30 miles long in the Boundary Waters and from 4 to 12 miles wide. One paddler described being in the middle of the storm this way: “I could only see about twenty feet into the soupy air. With the wave tops being blown off the lake and the rain, it was like being in a wind tunnel while being sprayed with a fire hose.”

Over a half-million (585,000) acres of forest suffered damage – an estimated 25 million trees – including one-third (367,000 acres) of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in the Superior National Forest. Many of the nearly 3,000 paddlers in the BWCAW that day faced an entanglement of biblical proportion—how to portage canoes and gear through a baffling snarl of horizontal trees, as much of the forest was tipped 90° onto its side. 

August Flowers 

            Flowering in the fields and along roadsides: goldenrods, black-eyed Susans, sweet clover, wild asters, Queen Anne’s Lace, hawkweeds, fireweed, milkweed, wild bergamot, birds-foot trefoil, butter-and-eggs, chicory, evening primrose, fleabanes, spotted knapweed, mullein, tansy, self-heal.

On the shorelands: turtlehead, jewelweed, Joe-Pye-weed, steeplebush, meadowsweet, swamp milkweed.

jewelweed

In the shallow water: arrowhead, purple bladderwort, smartweed, pickerelweed, bulrushes, cattails, pondweeds, wild rice.

beds of smartweed

Edible berries in fruit: raspberries, elderberries, thimbleberries, elderberry, wild grapes.

Fireweed – The Healer

            Fireweed is in flower along most roadsides and open areas, its four-petaled, rose-purple plumes standing tall, and not to be confused with purple loosestrife, which has seven petals. Fireweed may be one of the most abundant plants in the northern hemisphere, growing from 20 to 70 degrees North latitude all around the world. 

Flowering begins at the bottom of the spike and proceeds upward, the lower flowers dying and producing three-inch-long curved seed pods. The seedpods split open lengthwise, each one producing 300 to 500 seeds attached to a silky thread that carries the seed on the wind. One study found that 20 to 50 percent of fireweed seeds travel on winds at altitudes higher than 300 feet, and may travel for hundreds of miles. Since an average plant produces 40,000 seeds, that’s an enormous distribution!

The seeds germinate on open disturbed soils, often rising in utter profusion after a fire or an avalanche in the mountains. It’s said to clothe the tundra in the far North and was one of the first colonizers in the heavy ash after Mount St. Helens erupted in 1980. During the WW2 firebomb raids of London in 1940 and 1941, fireweed was seen in “great meadows” in the bomb rubble.

So, it’s a healer, what ecologists call a “pioneer” plant, colonizing sites harmed by humans and nature, and bringing them back to life. The plants may only last a few years following their flush, because they are quickly succeeded by other pioneers like blueberries, bracken ferns, raspberries, and blackberries, which live much longer lives. But the fireweed’s work is to be the first to restart life on bared soil, and for that, we should be grateful. 

Migration Already in Motion

            Shorebirds have been passing over us and heading south for nearly a month already. Very few stop in our area simply because we don’t have great shorebird habitat like Chequamegon Bay to our north and Horicon Marsh to our south. We also have very few nesting shorebirds in northern Wisconsin, so their departure goes largely unnoticed.

            We do, however, very much notice songbirds when they leave, and most of the songbirds that winter in Central and South America will start migrating as early as mid-August. We tend to think of autumn beginning in mid-September, but songbird DNA tells them to get out of town before the first frosts kill most of their food base – insects. 

Webworms

Fall webworms are appearing on many shrubs and trees now. These are native caterpillars that form a loose webbing over branches and feed on the leaves. The good news is that fall webworms are more of a cosmetic issue than a truly harmful insect.

If you want to remove them, open up the webbing using a long stick to allow predators, like songbirds, to get at the caterpillars. Or you can use the stick to roll up the webbing and then place the entire web in a container of soapy water for a couple of days. Don’t do what I recently did, which was try to burn them with a torch. I likely did more harm to one of our mountain ash trees than the insects might have done.

Smooth Green Snake and Garter Snake

            Mark Westphal, ace photographer near Manitowish Waters, sent me photos of both a garter snake and a smooth green snake. His photo of the garter snake shows the snake displaying its forked tongue, which makes it look rather fierce. 

           Truth is, however, that a snake uses its tongue to gather scents from the surrounding air, which it transfers to a gland called the “Jacobson’s organ” in the roof of its mouth. This organ then sends the “taste” information to the snake’s brain which interprets what it’s contacting. So, a snake flicking its tongue at you is doing nothing more than determining what kind of critter you are.

Smooth green snakes are relatively uncommon in our area, and eat mainly insects like crickets, grasshoppers, and caterpillars, but also beetles, spiders, centipedes, millipedes, snails, slugs, and sometimes amphibians. They’renon-aggressive and non-venomous, and quite pretty.

They’re also super easy to identify – smooth green snakes are the only snakes in eastern North America that are entirely bright green on their upper surfaces. This camouflages them in their mostly grassy habitats like marshes, meadows, open woods, and along stream edges. 

Celestial Events

            On 8/9, look for Jupiter about two degrees below the moon. Look for Saturn almost on top of the moon on 8/11 and 8/12. The Perseid meteor shower occurs from 8/8 through 8/13, but it peaks during the night of 8/12 and into the early morning of 8/13. The Perseids average 60 meteors per hour. Unfortunately, the full moon will occur a few days later on 8/15, so the nearly full moon on 8/12 will create a rather bright backdrop. 

Update on the Loon-Mallard Adoption

            The mallard chick is full grown, and still riding on the backs of its adopted loon parents. See the attached photo kindly shared by Linda Grenzer.

Thought for the Week

Senegalese poet and naturalist Baba Dioum: “In the end, we will protect only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught.”

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