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