A Northwoods Almanac for 9/17-30, 2021  

            

Sylvania Old-Growth

            Last week, Mary, Callie, our friend Licia, and I spent three and a half days camping in the Sylvania tract of the Ottawa National Forest, taking long walks through the 15,000 acres or more of remnant old-growth still presiding over the area. We walked slowly, looking for mushrooms, slime molds, and anything unusual of note, while measuring the biggest sugar maples, hemlocks, yellow birches, white pines, and basswoods that we came across. And there were many. Our biggest diameter tree was a fire-hollowed yellow birch, 52 inches in diameter, and still living despite being hollow for its first 15 feet or more. 

yellow birch hollowed by fire

Close behind in size was a 51-inch diameter white pine, and then a 45-inch diameter grandmother sugar maple. One basswood topped 42-inches in diameter, while numerous hemlocks were three feet or more in diameter. 

white pine 50" dbh

            The question always arises of how old these trees might be, and the only thing one can say in these shade-dominated woods is that size doesn’t equal age. Some eastern hemlock and sugar maple saplings less than 2 inches in diameter have been aged over 100 years old. As small seedlings and saplings, both species possess extraordinary capabilities to wait a century or more in the forest shade for a windstorm to topple the tree above them and open up the canopy. The young trees live in a steady state of metabolic balance, gathering just enough light to survive photosynthetically, but not enough to grow upward or outward. A one-foot diameter, 30–foot-tall hemlock can easily be over 200 years old, having endured, suppressed by shade, until its moment arrives to shine in the sun. 

            To give you a recent example of this, good friend Rod Sharka recently carefully counted the rings of a large yellow birch that was blown down in the Guido Rahr Sr. Tenderfoot Forest Reserve, not far from Sylvania. Here’s how he described it: “I finally sanded down that yellow birch cookie I cut from the big yellow birch that came down on the Tenderfoot Reserve this past June, oiled it to accentuate the rings, and counted them the best I could. I'm reasonably certain that my count is accurate. Would you believe 373 years? And that was from a cookie that was cut about 20 feet above the base and measured about 25" in diameter. The first 15 feet or so were mangled, twisted, and dry rotted. That tree could possibly be over 400 years old. Note in the photo [see the attached picture] that I started counting from the cambium layer to the center pith. The first three straight pins are marking 100-year intervals with the last section to the center being 73 years. The rings in the first 100-year section counted were extremely tiny and required the 10X magnifier to even see, suggesting that this tree was basically loitering during the last century of its life.”

tree cookie photo by Rod Sharka

             When I talk about tree seedling waiting in the shade, I’m talking about a lot of trees waiting in the shade, sugar maples being the best example. Besides their ability to live in shade for decades, sugar maples also produce enormous quantities of seeds, varying in one 12-year study from 40,000 per acre to over 5 million per acre on the same site (an acre is 208 feet on a side, or about 2/3 the length of a football field). The result is huge numbers of young seedlings occupying the forest floor, commonly 20,000 less than 12" tall per acre. One researcher estimated that 4,000 young seedlings spring up every year under one mature sugar maple, totaling over one million seedlings in the life of a 350 year old tree. Out of those only about 5% (about 50,000) last into the second year; maybe 1,400 live to 10 years; perhaps 35 grow over 20' tall; two may reach 150 years old; and one may be lucky enough to reach maturity.

sugar maple sea

            One other factor to consider in what trees will ultimately make it into the canopy is the impact of deer browse. Deer eat on average about 5 pounds of woody browse per day in the winter. Hemlock really struggles to survive deer browse, but sugar maples can withstand being browsed for many years. Thus sugar maple is almost certain to dominate forests like Sylvania when the current old-growth declines.

 

Cedar Waxwing Gluttony on Mountain Ash Berries

            We’ve planted a dozen mountain ash trees on our property, two of which are large enough now to be producing a good crop of berries. One of the trees was absolutely loaded with berries, that is until a flock of at least 20 cedar waxwings descended on it on 9/11 and ate every last berry. A few robins joined in the merriment, as did some yellow-rumped warblers and purple finches, but they were far outnumbered by the waxwings. 

            Now, I love cedar waxwings. They and their cousins, bohemian waxwings, are the most nattily dressed of our songbirds, elegant in their plumage in the manner of someone wearing a  tuxedo to a ball. And we planted the mountain ashes specifically to feed birds – the berries aren’t edible for humans. But we planted the trees to support birds visiting us in the winter, like pine grosbeaks and the aforementioned bohemian waxwings, not to feed birds in the autumn on their migration.

            Well, no one told these cedar waxwings. First come, first served, I guess. We’ll not be an attractive restaurant to visiting birds from Canada this winter, but we’ll still have helped some birds on their transitioning into winter. I’ll fuss about it more in January, but for now, it was quite amazing to watch the gluttonous appetites of a large flock of cedar waxwings. 

 

Ironwood Seeds

            Over the last few weeks, Mary and I have seen many ironwood trees – or hop hornbeams – absolutely loaded with seeds. What’s unique about ironwood seeds is that they’re encased in what looks like little inflated papery bags, which some folks see as similar to hops, thus the alternative name. The small seeds are shed in winter and blow along the surface of hard packed snow, “snow skittering” being just another in a series of clever adaptations plants employ to distribute their seeds away from home.

Ironwood seed "pods"

            Why ironwoods are so successfully producing seeds this year is beyond my ken, but I’m pleased to see their abundance. Ironwoods are modest in all ways, from their lack of importance as a wildlife food (the literature says the tiny seeds feed deer, rabbits, ruffed grouse, red squirrels, purple finches, and perhaps others, but only to a minor extent at best), to their size in the forest understory (up to 30 feet), to their non-distinctive leaves that turn a subtle soft, gold in autumn. Donald Culross Peattie writes, “Everything about this little tree is at once serviceable and self-effacing. Such a member of any society is easily overlooked, but well worth knowing.”

            What ironwood does excel in is strength. At 51 lbs. per cubic foot (compare to hemlock at 20 lbs. per cu. ft.), ironwood is heavy and extremely hard, considered 30% stronger than white oak. In the pioneer times of wooden equipment, ironwood was the choice for tool handles and wheel axles and spokes. And as a firewood, it’s only real rival is shagbark hickory. If you want the firewood that gives off the most BTUs in our area, this is your baby. 

 

Sightings – Baby Snappers, Chestnuts, and Yellow-rumped Warblers

            On 9/2, Mark Westphal spotted a baby snapping turtle in an area of his yard. He sent a photo of it and noted, “In an effort to save the little snapper from our curious canines, I carefully picked up the turtle and placed it into an official turtle transportation device, better known as an empty ice cream container. I walked it down several hundred  yards to the edge of a nearby pond where I gently released it, hopefully giving it a slightly better chance of surviving. The photo of the turtle makes me smile and wonder. It brought to mind the William Shakespeare quote. ‘The eyes are the windows to your soul.’ The look in the baby snapping turtle's eyes is so ancient, so determined for such a tiny young creature.”

            Susan Aiken sent me photos of American chestnuts that are growing on a golf course in Bayfield, many, many hundreds of miles out of their range. She noted, “There are three locations, each with a couple of trees, separated by several hundred feet.” 

            In the 1800s, one in every four hardwood trees in North America's eastern forests was an American chestnut. Together, chestnuts and oaks dominated nearly 20 million acres of forest from Maine to Florida and west to the Ohio Valley. Every spring so many chestnut trees erupted in white blossom that, from a distance, the hills appeared white with snow. But none of this happened in Wisconsin, or Michigan, or Minnesota for that matter. The natural range of American chestnut barely reached the border of Ohio and Indiana, so seeing some chestnuts anywhere in Wisconsin is unusual and a sign that someone planted them.

            Lastly, yellow-rumped warblers were moving through our area in good numbers over the weekend and into the start of the week. Most warblers are insect-eaters and have left already, but yellow-rumps have a more diversified diet employing a variety of foraging techniques, from fly-catching to foliage-gleaning for insects, and they’re also able to expand their diet to include a substantial amount of fruit. So, they can stay a bit longer in the North Country before heading south. 

 

Logging Near Water

            A number of people have said to me that they feel the DNR has been logging too close to lake and river shorelines. Here’s an article looking at the issue: https://wisconsinexaminer.com/2021/09/07/a-hike-and-a-fight-northwoods-residents-say-dnr-is-violating-its-logging-rules/.

 

Celestial Events

            Tonight, 9/17, look in the southeast after dusk for Jupiter about 4° north of the waxing gibbous moon.

            The full moon, the “Harvest/Acorn/Leaves Changing Color” Moon, occurs on 9/20.

            The autumn equinox takes place on 9/22. The sun is now directly above the equator, and for us that means a brief moment when our days and nights are nearly equal to one another in length.

 

Thought for the Week

Beauty is not an extra luxury, an accidental experience that we happen to have if we are lucky. Beauty dwells at the heart of life . . . To recognize and celebrate beauty is to recognize the ultimate sacredness of experience, to glimpse the subtle embrace of belonging where we are wed to the divine. –  John O’Donohue

 

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 www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com.

 

 A Northwoods Almanac for 9/3-16, 2021  

 

Fires in Quetico Provincial Park and the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness 

            The smell of smoke has been in the air for several weeks now, burning lungs and eyes, most of the smoke originating from fires in the Quetico’s Provincial Park in Ontario and the Boundary Waters (BWCAW) in northern Minnesota. As of 8/27, there was a wildfire of nearly 100,000 acres actively burning in Quetico. But this was only part of the story. The largest Quetico fire was still only the fourth-largest of the 81 active fires in northwestern Ontario as of that date, all of which were contributing to the smoke. The largest fire, burning northwest of Kenora, had burned 495,859 acres.

            Over 31,800 acres had also burned as of 8/27 in the largest fire to hit the Boundary Waters region, and the Superior National Forest responded by closing the BWCAW on August 21 due to the increasing fire activity and the extreme drought.

            Good news came when steady rain fell across much of northeast Minnesota from 8/28-29 with some reports of more than an inch of rain, but then dry conditions and gusty winds returned the following day.

            What to make of it all? Well, it’s a classic head vs. heart issue. The heart hurts to hear of such loss, and if you’ve been there like we have, it hurts even more. But my head interrupts my heartache to remind me that fire has played the most important role for thousands of years in regenerating the forests of the BWCAW and Quetico Provincial Parks. Comparison of dates from major fires in the BWCA Wilderness suggest that conditions favorable to intense burns –  dense dry fuel, drought, and high winds – occurred in 1727, 1759 and 1864. The research of Dr. Miron Heinselman, author of The Boundary Waters Wilderness Ecosystem, showed that a major fire occurred somewhere in the BWCAW at least once every eighty years from about 1600 to present. He also found that the interval between burns in a specific area was only about eight years. 

            Here’s the kicker. White pine, a dominant tree in the BWCAW, is classified as a disturbance-dependent species. The amount and duration of white pine in most forests is directly proportional to the intensity of disturbance, in particular, fire disturbance. White pine needs a combination of extensive wind-throw and fire for successful re-establishment. They’re very susceptible to wind-throw because they’re tall and shallow-rooted. But wind-throw by itself is seldom adequate to regenerate white pines. Blowdowns followed by a drought often burn later, and that’s the best prescription for the continuation of white pines in an ecosystem.

            The US Forest Service’s own statistics say that only 2% of Minnesota’s original 3.5 million acres of white pine still exist, largely because of past hard cutting and the suppression of fire. Thus, today, forest tracts are being intentionally burned to both reduce the threat of uncontrolled blazes and to regenerate white pines.

            So. Smoke in the sky. Hard breathing. Stinging eyes. A disaster? Or a natural and necessary natural disturbance? Easy for me to say the latter when I don’t live there, my home isn’t in the path, and the trees I love aren’t being consumed. But, it’s always a balance, and sometimes a very difficult one to accept. 

 

Sightings – Great Egret!

            On 8/20, Dean Krofta sent me a photograph of a white bird with a note asking, “How common is this bird up here? This one has been on our lake in Lake Tomahawk the last couple days.” The photo he sent was of a great egret, a quite uncommon bird in Wisconsin’s Northwoods. Coincidentally during that same time period, another great egret was also being reported in Powell Marsh. 

            The sighting of a southern species like this always raises the question of what are they doing up here? Well, while Wisconsin is at the northern edge of the great egret’s range, during the 2006 breeding bird survey in Wisconsin, 10 breeding sites were found in the state. Their primary range, though, is well south of here along the Mississippi River and the Horicon Marsh/Lake Winnebago.

            Still, great egrets have been known to wander northward after nesting. One source writes that egrets can turn up almost anywhere in the summer, often traveling hundreds of miles north from their spring rookeries, for reasons no one can say. So while rare, it’s not out of their character to go on an adventure.  

            Most folks know great egrets only through seeing them used as the organizational symbol for the National Audubon Society. The decimation of this species and other wading birds for their feathers during the late 1800s and early 1900s sparked the formation of numerous conservation organizations. The slaughter of egrets and herons by plume hunters was finally ended with the signing of the Lacey Act in 1900, making it illegal to transport birds between states. The Migratory Bird Treaty in 1918 was the real turning point, however, permanently closing hunting seasons on insect-eating birds and non-game birds. The taking of nests and eggs of all migratory birds was also prohibited, while seasons were set on migratory game birds, marking a turning point in stopping population declines in a host of species.

            

Nighthawks and Cedar Waxwings

            Tim Kroeff sent me an email on 8/29 noting that he hadn’t seen any night hawks moving in the evening yet, but the cedar waxwings were sure having a grand time feeding out over the lake on insects. Tim’s email was well-timed, because the last week or so of August is the best time to see nighthawks. However, as of 8/31, we’ve failed to see a single one, nor has any reader of this column contacted me to say they observed a flight. 

            Hawk Ridge in Duluth is a usual hotspot for big numbers of nighthawks, but so far only 2,768 have been seen as of 8/30, with 8/20 being the biggest day with 1,635 passing over the ridge. While these numbers may seem big, in 2013, 42,916 Nighthawks were seen in August, with 30,874 being counted just on August  21. And over 29,000 were counted last fall in 2020. Perhaps more are soon to come, but usually by September, it’s just a relative smattering.

            In looking at the numbers posted for other species so far at Hawk Ridge, it looks like either a very slow migration or a very poor year altogether for birds. Time will tell, of course, but bird numbers were down in the spring count, and I’ve heard from other birders that the fall migration has been slim throughout the Northwoods.

            The common nighthawk is designated as a Species of Greatest Conservation Need by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources, while breeding bird surveys in Canada show that birds relying on flying insects are declining at about six percent per year. Partners in Flight has also identified nighthawks as a species in steep decline. Their loss in numbers may also have to do with their long-distance migration to wintering sites in Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Brazil, Paraguay, Argentina, and Chile.

            On the other hand, cedar waxwings, as Tim pointed out, are still very actively flycatching over our lakes and rivers. At the same time, they’re also in the process of migration. The count at Hawk Ridge on 8/30 totaled 1559 cedar waxwings. 

            Cedar waxwing numbers are experiencing the opposite of nighthawks – they’ve been increasing over the last 20 years, partly due to the use of berry-producing trees in landscaping and the conversion of agricultural land to forest. 

            Cedar waxwings breed late in the year, timing their nesting with the availability of summer-ripening fruits. Unlike most birds, they display no territoriality during the breeding season, instead socializing in flocks all year-round. They feed voraciously on both insects and fruits in the summer, and their high degree of mobility make them especially effective at dispersing seeds of fruiting plants.

            We occasionally see cedar waxwings in the winter, but most appear to migrate to areas further south where fruit is more abundant. Some migrate as far as Central America, but they’re known for moving around during the winter and don’t always return or stay in the same areas from year to year.

 

Yellowjacket Time

            If there’s an insect hovering around your soda can this time of year, chances are it’s a yellowjacket. Yellowjackets are actually wasps, and there’s 13 species of them in Wisconsin, most distinguishing themselves via their slender shiny bodies with yellow and black banding.             One researcher says, “Yellowjackets use soda and other sweeteners as a sort of ‘aviation fuel’.” The wasps have been busy building their colonies up to large numbers, but by August, the colony social structure starts to break down, food sources became more scarce, and the workers set out to forage for themselves. Starving, thousands seek out nectars and sugars, bringing them often into contact with humans. 

            They can be aggressive and appear to somehow communicate with one another where there’s a good source of sugar. And they can sting multiple times without dying, so one trapped in your shirt can wreak havoc. 

            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 wait out the winter before starting a new colony in the spring.

 

Honey Do List

            Mary and I extracted honey from our two bee hives on 8/30. 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 extractor. There’s a bunch of steps after that, but the final step is to turn the extractor on and let it spin at high speed to fling the honey off the frames and into a stainless steel barrel.

            One of our hives did well, but the other was weak – perhaps the queen wasn’t up to her royal tasks, or something else was amiss. We got about 24 pounds of honey, which was somewhat disappointing, but, oh my, is it good!

            Now the trick is to help the bees make it through the winter. The weak hive stands little chance, so we’ll likely try to combine it with our other hive and hope that the one strong remaining hive can make it through a northern Wisconsin winter.

            We lost both hives over the winter last year, so there’s an art to all of this, and we’re still learning.

            

Celestial Events

            Planet-watching in September all takes place early in the evening. Look for Venus low in the southwest, and Jupiter and Saturn in the southeast.

            The new moon occurs on 9/6. Look on 9/9 for Venus about four degrees below the waxing crescent moon. On 9/16, look for Saturn about four degrees above the waxing gibbous moon. To measure one degree, hold your little finger out at full arm’s length. To measure five degrees, hold three fingers out at full arm’s length. 

 

Thought for the Week

            “Each of us has the power to make our life into a work of art that expresses our deepest values. Don’t ask, Will my acts save the world? Perhaps they won’t. But ask, Are my actions consistent with what I most deeply believe is right and good. This is our calling . . . to celebrate and care for the world, even if its fate breaks our hearts.” – Kathleen Dean Moore