A Northwoods Almanac for 10/28

 A Northwoods Almanac for 10/28 – 11/10/22  by John Bates

 

2022 State of the Birds

            The U.S. Committee of the North American Bird Conservation Initiative recently released their 2022 State of the Birds report, and their findings included this good news: Waterbirds and ducks in the U.S. have increased by 18% and 34%, respectively since 1970. Their increase is attributed to investments in wetland conservation, including the Federal Duck Stamp program and contributions from excise taxes and license sales to hunters.

            Now the bad news: More than half of U.S. bird species are declining. 

            Within that number, U.S. grassland birds are among the fastest declining with a 34% loss.

            Shorebirds, too, are down 33%.

            It was the first comprehensive look at the nation's birds since a 2019 study showed the loss of nearly 3 billion birds in the U.S. and Canada, about 1 in 4 birds, over the last 50 years. 

            What to do? Start here: America's Wildlife Act, a bill passed by the House of Representatives but awaiting a vote in the Senate, would provide about $1 billion annually to states and tribes for nongame wildlife management. The grants must be used for innovative recovery efforts for species of greatest conservation need, species listed as endangered or threatened, or the habitats of such species. 

 

Loon Migration

            In a lengthy study done primarily in our area and northern Minnesota, 232 common loons were captured and banded during the summers of 2009–2016, including 204 adult and 27 juvenile loons (Kevin Kenow, et al. “Migration patterns and wintering distribution of common loons breeding in the Upper Midwest,” Journal of Avian Biology, 6/9/21).Geolocator tags were attached to the adults and 31 of them (all males) received satellite transmitter implants. The researchers recovered 111 geolocator tags from 134 of the geotagged adult loons that were recaptured or discovered as carcasses. 

            The satellite telemetry and archival geolocator tags were used to determine the migration patterns and wintering locations of the breeding adults and young of the year. They found that the median date of adult loon departure from their breeding lakes was from October 16 to 22. Thus, most, if not all adult common loons from Minnesota and Wisconsin are now on their way south. But in the study, the researchers found that they typically first headed east to northern Lake Michigan off of Door County, and their length of stay there averaged 27 days, often not departing until late November. They then gradually worked their way south along the lake before typically making their overland journey to the Gulf of Mexico off of Florida. Many briefly stopped at reservoirs in southeastern states, though a few stopped in Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania, finally arriving in Florida around November 26.

            The chicks are left behind to fend for themselves, but the research showed that many fly from their natal lake to feed on a nearby lake which is richer in fish – they need all the energy reserves they can store up for migration. They then typically waited until close to ice-up to make the leap southward, foregoing Lake Michigan, their DNA telling them what direction to go and how far. Like the adults, however, most stopped briefly along the way at various lakes and reservoirs, and like the adults, they ended up arriving on their wintering grounds in the Gulf in late November to early December. Thus, the first fall migration of juvenile loons is much more direct and relatively quick compared to the fall migration in adults.

            The study found that among the adults (103) and juveniles (23) that completed fall migration, most wintered in the Gulf of Mexico (80% of the adults and 91% of the juveniles), with smaller proportions wintering off the southern Atlantic Coast or on impoundments in the southeastern United States.

            Given the likely wintering distribution of common loons breeding in the Upper Midwest coupled with the occurrence of the 2010 Deepwater Horizon (DWH) oil spill, the researchers were concerned about the effect of the spill on wintering loons. A separate study (done by Deepwater Horizon Natural Resource Damage Assessment Trustees) reported that common loon mortality was estimated from 530 to 812 individuals with additional lost productivity of 31 to 98 fledged loons during 2010 and 2011 due to the mortality of the breeding-age birds.

            An aspect of common loon life history that remains largely undocumented are the causes, timing and location of mortality among young loons following their departure from their natal lakes. Survival rates of loons during their first few years of life are much lower than that of adults. Band recovery data also indicated that while some of the juvenile loons may remain on wintering areas year-round their first two years, northward movement along the Atlantic Coast during summers was common, and included distant movements to places like the Gulf of St. Lawrence and Nova Scotia.

            It’s noteworthy that it’s believed that most (93%) of the breeding adult population of common loons occurs in Canada, with only 6% occurring in the United States. Of the proportion that occurs in the United States, about half are thought to occur in the Great Lakes states of Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan.

 

“Old-growth” Clubmosses

            At a recent talk I gave in Stevens Point, I asked eminent retired botanist Dr. Robert Freckman about literature I’d seen over the years stating that various species of clubmosses can be very old, well over a hundred years. He amended my time frame, saying that some are thought to live 1,000 years! This was a startling revelation to me.

            Nearly everyone in the Northwoods is familiar with clubmosses, but may not know them by that name. The most common is “Princess Pine,” which is absolutely not a pine, but rather, a clubmoss. All clubmoss species superficially resemble a conifer seedling to a casual observer, but clubmosses seldom grow taller than 6 inches, and they produce spores – not cones with seeds. Those who think clubmosses are tiny pine trees must wonder why they never grow up.

            Clubmosses are perennial evergreens, and vegetatively reproduce by sending out “runners” along or just below the ground surface that root down at intervals. New shoots may pop up at the roots, or the stem just continues to elongate further, walking itself slowly through the woods while the tail end dies off.

            In late summer and early fall, little club-shaped structures grow from the tips of the shoots in most species. Each of these “clubs” packs thousands of spores, and if you just tap one of them when they're ripe, a yellow powder billows out, catches any wind present, and the spores float to their new homestead site in the woods. Some of the clubs are on slender stalks that look like a candelabra setting for a romantic vole's dinner.

            Clubmoss spores found their way into a remarkable number of early products, but most remarkable of all was the creative person who discovered the spores to be explosive, and thought to use them to produce the pan flash for old time cameras.  

            The clubmoss reproductive cycle closely resembles the complexity of ferns, but clubmosses belong to a group of plants called “fern allies” (sounds like NATO or something), which have the same structural characteristics and general reproductive process as ferns. The difference between ferns and their allies is that ferns have large flat fronds with branching veins, while the allies have needlelike or scalelike leaves with just one unbranched vein. In other words, the fern allies don't look a bit like ferns, and each ally variety looks quite different from all the rest – clubmosses look a bit like mosses but really more like miniature conifer trees; horsetails look like a piece of jointed bamboo often with coarse hairs; quillworts might be mistaken for clumps of grass or the long stems of young onions.

            Of most importance though is the 17 or so years it takes clubmoss spores to grow through their alternate life stage and into the next generation of spore-bearing plant. Given the enormous numbers of clubmosses that are still picked every year for the wreath-making industry, clubmoss populations have suffered and their recolonization of forest areas lags well behind the harvest. If you pick them for wreaths, cut them off above the ground – do not pull them out. Better yet, make your wreaths out of balsam fir branches rather than the clubmosses. It seems only reasonable that we should not  be picking plants that may be up to 1,000 years old.

 

Tamarack Gold

            Tamaracks have fully turned gold by late October, and many are dropping their needles, or have lost all of them already. It’s the last brilliant flash of color in our rapidly fading autumn, and they’re much to be admired and grateful for. 

            As the oddball independent among the trees – a conifer that is deciduous – the question often arises as to why this is our only conifer that drops its needles in the fall, and it’s one that’s not easily answered. One thought is that the soft needles of tamaracks are more susceptible to snow damage and water loss than other conifers, so it makes sense to drop them. 

            The benefit to having needles rather than broad leaves is that they can withstand a great deal more abuse compared to leaves, and they aren't as attractive to insects. Conifers make small, sturdy leaves built for structural integrity. The leaves have a small surface area, and they’re coated with wax that reduces water loss. 

            The downside of this conservative strategy is that these leaves are relatively costly to make. And the structural components that make needles tough allows less room for the chemicals and cellular structures needed for photosynthesis, which is likely why evergreen needles tend to photosynthesize at lower rates than the leaves of broad-leaf trees.

            Do the softer, smaller needles of tamaracks allow it to photosynthesize more rapidly than other conifers, and make the needles easier and less costly to produce in the spring, thus balancing their loss in the autumn? I’m not sure, but we are certainly the benefactors of the colorful process.

 

Celestial Events

            To observe planets in November, look after dusk for Jupiter and Saturn in the southeast, and before dawn for Mars in the southwest.

            On 11/4, look for Jupiter just a few degrees above the waxing gibbous moon. The full moon occurs on 11/8.

 

Thought for the Week

            “An interesting question to ask yourself at night is, What did I really see this day?” –  John O’Donohue.

 

 

A Northwoods Almanac for 10/14/22

 A Northwoods Almanac for October 14-27, 2022  by John Bates

 

Piping Plovers, A Good News Story

            The Great Lakes population of piping plovers fledged 150 chicks in the wild this year from 72 distinct breeding pairs, the greatest number of chicks fledged since the population was listed as federally endangered in 1986. Of those 72 pairs, 48 were in Michigan, with the stronghold for this population at Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. 

            In Wisconsin, Long Island in the Apostle Island chain had a record-breaking six nests, which produced a total of 22 fledglings. At Cat Island in Green Bay, plover pairs successfully fledged 11 wild chicks out of 12 chicks that hatched, an impressive 92% fledge rate.

            For a chick to be considered fledged, it must live until at least 23 days old, which is three weeks that plover chicks are running around busy beaches and are incapable of flight, making them vulnerable to predation, dogs off leash, and human disturbance. Volunteers at nesting sites spend hours each day checking on the birds, educating beachgoers, and protecting plovers from the myriad of threats.

            Despite the steady increase in pairs, the population is still only about halfway to the minimum recovery goal of 150 breeding pairs. Nevertheless, this is great news!

 

Cliff Germain, 1923-2022

            Cliff Germain passed away recently at 99 years old, his passing of importance because he was hired in 1966 as the first staff ecologist and program manager of Wisconsin’s State Scientific Areas Program, later renamed the State Natural Areas Program (SNA). The program had its start in 1951 as the nation’s pioneer statewide natural area protection program leading the way for other states to follow. 

            Under Cliff’s guidance, the Wisconsin SNA program grew into the largest and most successful of its kind in the country. SNAs protect the “last great places” left in our state, from  native natural communities, to significant geological formations and archeological sites, thereby providing some of the last refuges for rare plants and animals. We’re now blessed with 673 SNAs designated in the state, encompassing over 400,000 acres.   

            Later on, Cliff also was instrumental in bringing together nature preserve professionals from eight states and The Nature Conservancy in 1974 , where the idea to form a national organization of natural areas was born. Consequently, in 1978 the Natural Areas Association (NAA) was created, with Cliff as a founding member.  

            In 1987, NAA honored Cliff with its very first George B. Fell Award for lifetime achievement in the natural areas profession, the Association's highest award,  In 2002, the Germain Hemlocks SNA in Oneida County was named after him, and in 2014, Cliff was inducted into the Wisconsin Conservation Hall of Fame.

            I never had the opportunity to meet Cliff, but I’ve led numerous hikes in the Germain Hemlocks, and the beauty of the site speaks volumes about his work and his legacy.

 

Holmboe Conifer Forest SNA Dedicated into the Old-Growth Forest Network

            On 10/6, Holmboe Conifer Forest State Natural Area was added as a designated forest to the Old-Growth Forest Network, a national organization whose goal it is to locate and designate at least one old-growth, protected forest in every forested county in the United States. The Network estimates there are approximately 2,370 out of 3,140 total counties in the U.S. that have native forests, so this is an enormous undertaking to say the least. The organizers work not only to identify forests for the Network and ensure their protection, but also to inform people of the forest locations and to build an alliance of people who care about forests. Homboe is the 177^th forest now recognized by the Network.

            The forests they choose to designate all have formal protections in place that ensure that their trees and ecosystems are protected from commercial logging, and all are open to the public so that everyone can experience them 

            With the addition of Holmboe, four forests are now dedicated in Wisconsin: Cathedral Pines SNA in Oconto County, Plum Lake Hemlock Forest SNA in Vilas County, Muskego Park Hardwoods SNA in Waukesha County, and now Holmboe Conifer Forest SNA in Oneida County.

            If you’re not familiar with Holmboe, it’s 32 acres of relict hemlock-hardwoods located smack dab in the heart of Rhinelander along the Pelican River, just across from the city's sewage treatment plant and next door to a gravel plant, both reminders of what this site could so easily look like if not for early conservation efforts. The forest was donated in 1965 to The Nature Conservancy by Frithjof Holmboe and his son, Thorvald. In 2007, the Conservancy donated the preserve to the Northwoods Land Trust for long-term protection and management.

            The stand contains a few remnant old hemlocks (200+ years) amongst a mature stand of hemlock, white pine, and red pine that is reputed to be around 125 years old. The biggest pines reach over 100 feet with diameters around 36” dbh, and the hemlock may also push 100 feet. Two loop trails follow along steep moraines, making the hike a bit rugged.

            It’s a unique place of beauty and quiet within a small urban environment, and is relatively unknown to even most locals. I highly recommend it!

 

Sightings – Migrating Lapland Longspurs, American Robins, Trumpeter Swans

            On three different occasions over the last few weeks, Mary, Callie and I have seen flocks of Lapland longspurs feeding along the dikes at Powell Marsh Wildlife Area. This is a notable sighting because Lapland longspurs breed across vast areas of the Arctic and are sometimes the only nesting songbirds in these extreme locations. The bird not only nests in North America’s arctic tundra but also is circumpolar, breeding across Greenland, Iceland, and the far reaches of northern Scandinavia and Russia.

            They winter in prairies, open weedy and grassy fields, grain stubbles, and any open ground that has little snow cover and provides access to seeds. Huge flocks can sometimes be seen in the Great Plains of the Dakotas.

Lapland longspur range map

            The breeding male is gorgeous in spring, but sports less vibrant colors in the fall.

Lapland longspurs in flight at sunset on Powell Marsh

            Far more common, of course, are American robins, who migrate through our area in droves in late September and October. We see them usually the last week of September as a large flock descends on our crabapple trees, nannyberries, and mountain ash trees, and strips them bare. We planted those species specifically to feed wintering birds, so I’m often unhappy about their gluttony. I know they need food in their migration, but I’d like them to leave half for the grosbeaks and waxwings we hope to see in the winter.

            Robins are still migrating through in good numbers. The high number so far at Hawk Ridge in Duluth was 3,658 on 10/5.

 

Hawk Ridge Migration Numbers

            Speaking of Hawk Ridge, I wonder if any of you can guess (no looking ahead!) what bird species is usually the most commonly seen in the fall at Hawk Ridge? Broad-winged hawks hold the record day of 101,698 on 9/15/2003, and the record seasonal high of 160,703 that same year, but those numbers were anomalies. This year, at least as of 10/7/22, the total number of broad-wingeds is 39,419, and their migration is fundamentally over.

            So, drum roll, the bird with usually the highest numbers . . . blue jays! As of 10/7, 60,133 blue jays had flapped by the counters on the ridge. Cornell’s “Birds of the World” says this about blue jay migration: “Individuals that depart an area in autumn may be replaced by those migrating from farther north. However, distance traveled by migrants varies, and, in most areas, many jays are resident year-round; the proportion that migrates is probably not >20% of the population even in northern parts of the range . . .  Breeding jays may be migratory one year, sedentary the next, then again migratory in a subsequent year, although this pattern is probably uncommon. Similarly, an adult jay that presumably has bred at one location may summer substantially farther south in subsequent years. Likewise, jays captured and marked as adults during winter have been recaptured substantially farther south in subsequent winters.”

            So, what does this say about the blue jays currently at your feeders? Well, it says that unless the birds are banded, you have no way to know if the birds are the resident breeders that have been dominating your feeders all summer, or whether they’re migrants passing through or migrants coming to stay for the winter.

 

Odd Fungi and Slime Molds

            As long as we have sufficient rain, autumn excels in producing mushrooms and slime molds, In recent walks, we’ve found four tiny and fascinating species: blue stain fungus, witch’s butter fungus, orange peel fungus, and salmon eggs slime mold, and they all look like their names suggest.

            Blue stain is usually just seen as a general blue tinting of a decaying log or branch. But occasionally one gets lucky to find the fruiting stage where the wood is covered with tiny brightly-hued caps.

Blue stain fruiting bodies magnified

            Witch’s butter also goes by the equally wonderful name of “yellow brain fungus” and is a common jelly fungus. Witches’ butter deceptively appears to grow on a wood substrate. However, the fungus is parasitic on other wood decay fungi. They appear to be growing on wood substrate because the mycelium of the host fungus on which they subsist grows inside the wood and is consequently not visible.

            Witch’s butter may be so named to suggest that it was deliberately deposited by a witch to cast an evil spell. Various folk legends of Eastern Europe associate witches’ butter with the hex of a witch; according to this superstition, the only way to remove the spell was to pierce the gelatinous talisman with holes to drain the fluid to dehydrate and consequently extirpate it. However, this would likely have little effect, as the fungus is capable of rehydration during moist weather conditions, which would then restore the spell.

            It’s always a problem defeating witch’s spells.

            Orange peel fungus is stemless, lays directly on the ground, and grows in open areas along woodland trails in clusters. It often fruits in places where the soil has become compacted, and in fact, that’s where we found it – right in the middle of a compacted hiking trail. Apparently, this is an edible mushroom, but is reputed to have no taste.

            Finally, salmon eggs slime mold looks exactly like I imagine salmon eggs look like, except these are miniature versions living on dead branches of both conifers and hardwoods. Slime molds consist of numerous amoeba-like organisms that come together when their food source is depleted and form a fruiting body and spores. Most slime molds are acellular (plasmodial), and while feeding, they are like one giant amoeba cell with thousands of nuclei. Check out PBS Nova’s special on “The Secret Mind of Slime.” I guarantee you will be amazed.

Thought for the Week 

            “Humans aren’t as good as we should be in our capacity to empathize with feelings and thoughts of others, be they humans or other animals on Earth. So maybe part of our formal education should be training in empathy. Imagine how different the world would be if, in fact, that were ‘reading, writing, arithmetic, empathy.” – Neil deGrasse Tyson 

 

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 9/30/22

 A Northwoods Almanac for 9/30 – 10/13/2022  by John Bates

 

Hawks!

            I’ve been watching the Hawk Ridge website all September wondering when the big push of broad-wing hawks would finally occur. For this time of year, comparatively few hawks had been soaring over the ridge due to warm southerly breezes – the birds need a westerly or northerly wind to sail south on. 

            That all changed on 9/20 when the winds turned to the west and then to the north, and 4,440 broad-wings cruised by. The next day, 9/21, 9,108 sailed over. And then came the big flight on 9/22 when 12,020 were observed, and over 5,000 were counted between 9 and 10 a.m. alone!

            Broad-wings that migrate through our area typically compress their migration into a two-week peak period between September 10 to 25. Everything comes down to wind direction and the availability of thermals, because broad-wings spend most of their flight-time just gliding. They capture a warm thermal coming off a rockface or open ground, spiral up in that column of air often to a couple thousand feet (maximum altitude of most migrants is estimated at less than 2,500 feet), set their wings, and glide. For every foot they drop in altitude, they glide out 11 feet. So, if they drop 1,000 feet, they’ll have gained 11,000 feet of southward migration – over two miles! 

            Cornell’s excellent website, All About Birds (allaboutbirds.org), says this is “one of the greatest spectacles of migration. . . . A swirling flock of broad-winged hawks on their way to South America, also known as ‘kettles,’ can contain thousands of circling birds that evoke a vast cauldron being stirred with an invisible spoon.” 

            That’s an accurate image, because if you are lucky enough to see a large kettle of hawks swirling by, it’s effortless – they just circle all around one another like deep water slowly going down into a well. 

            They don’t fly all that far in a given day, with daily distances on average varying from 60 miles in six hours of unfavorable conditions to 300 miles in six hours of ridge flight with a favorable wind. 

            Researchers estimate they spend 40 days in migration, seemingly in no hurry to reach their wintering grounds in Central or South America. 

            The numbers of broad-wings seen at Hawk Ridge from 9/20-22 follows a typical pattern of increasing numbers during a cold front, as most migrants are sighted on the second or third day following the front, when winds ebb and thermals increase. 

            They concentrate their migration in mid-September for a variety of reasons. During September, the sun is still high enough in the sky to create updrafts and thermals necessary for their migration. If they wait any longer, these thermals won’t be as strong or predictable.

            Fall migration also coincides with dragonfly and damselfly migration, which enhances opportunistic feeding. While they’re a generalized predator, taking a wide variety of food items like amphibians, insects, mammals, and juvenile birds, they have a propensity for amphibians (mainly frogs and toads), which may also explain their migration schedule since amphibians go into hibernation early in the fall. 

            Generally, broad-winged hawks store little fat for the trip, so conserving energy is critical, as is being able to feed along the way. 

            As they head south, their route narrows in parts of Central America, concentrating their numbers. People describe these pinch points, such as Veracruz, Mexico, and Panama ,as a “river of raptors” – peak one-day flights of over a half million have been recorded in central Veracruz.

                        

Feather ID

            Ever pick up a feather and wonder what it was? I’ve just learned about “The Feather Atlas,” an excellent resource for figuring out feathers: https://www.fws.gov/lab/featheratlas/idtool.php?fbclid=IwAR2cEVCoH5ibCXFkAJq2zGGfF20tTkrmtytG2vdfLiijZA2eQAQClRkHEoE

 

Door Bluff Headlands County Park

            A few weeks ago, Mary and I helped a friend return to Washington Island in Door County, and on our return home we stopped to hike at Door Bluff Headlands County Park, a unique park for its ancient cliff-face white cedars which are likely many centuries old. The park is part of the larger Niagara Escarpment rock formation which rises 200 feet above the Bay's shore. The cliffs are punctuated with ledges and fractures that support a vertical, talus slope forest of white cedar with Canada yew, mountain maple, red pine, basswood, and red elderberry. One cedar in nearby Ellison Bay, only one inch in diameter, was determined to be 250 years old. A little south in Peninsula State park, a 507-year-old white cedar was discovered on Sven’s Bluff on the eastern edge of the SNA in 2005, and another white cedar at Fish Creek south of the park proved to be 616 years old. It’s very likely that older cedars occur on the bluffs, but very few have been aged. 

            Also of note for the Door Bluff Headlands is its history. Edwin and Grace Walker, Ino Walker and William and Anne Duncan sold 123 acres to the county for $1 in 1944.  In 1977, William and Lyn Swift and William and Miriam Over also sold 33 acres of adjacent land to the county for $1 with the premise that the “land be forever used as a park.” Work to develop the park – building restrooms, trails, a well, and a picnic area with grills was halted. In 1970, only a scenic road was created as it was decided to keep the park in its natural state as a sanctuary.

            So, the trails are unmarked, though they're well-maintained, and no trail maps are posted. 

            One other note of historical importance, rock art was found on the cliffs at the Door Bluff Headlands – red painted canoes and numerous other figures that date to 1000-1499CE.

            It's a marvelous site, well worth anyone's time.

 

Sightings: Moose, White Turkey, First Frost

            Two sightings of a young bull moose occurred recently: one on Payment Lake in Mercer on 9/19 and another on Sandy Beach Lake in Powell (southern Iron County) on 9/20. Typically, these observations are considered to be a young male out on a long walk-about looking for, well, who knows – love is the most likely. Rutting or mating season occurs from mid-September to mid-October, so that’s the easiest speculation.

            A friend near Harshaw sent me a note wondering about how common it is to see a white turkey – he’d seen one in early September among a flock of normally colored reddish-brown turkeys. Well, the literature says turkeys come in four additional colors – smoke, red, black, and white – all caused by genetic mutations. Smoke is the most common color morph, and biologists estimate 1 in every 100 wild turkeys come in this muted coloration. A smoke-morph bird is a light gray with graphite and black details along the body, wings, and tail, but still with a bit of blue and pink coloration on its head and neck. 

            A red-color morph is very rare and harder to identify (look for rust-red tail feathers), while the white-colored versions are caused by albinism and the black ones by melanism. Albino turkeys are estimated to be 1 in 100,000.

            Our first frost fin Manitowish finally occurred on 9/23. We’ve lived here full-time since 1984, and in our first 20 or so years, we always had a frost around 8/20. Frosts now are at least a month later.

 

Charles Wright School

            Last week, the North Lakeland Discovery Center hosted 27 9^th graders from the Charles Wright School in Tacoma, Washington, for six days of outdoor education. I had the opportunity to hike with them at the Van Vliet Hemlocks State Natural Area, and I was most taken by the response of one of the students who had just arrived a month ago in the U.S. from China. I had asked about the “soulfulness” of walking in this old-growth forest, and his response was deeply felt. He said he lives in a big city where he has only ever heard a constant sound of traffic and people – he had never heard silence. And he was really moved by it. He said he had never felt peace before. 

            Some folks question the value of maintaining old-growth – his response is one reason.

 

Celestial Events

            Looking for planets in October? After dusk, look for Jupiter rising in the east and Saturn in the east-southeast. Before dawn, look for Mars in the south. On 10/5, look in the evening for Saturn about 4° above the waxing gibbous moon. On 10/8, look for Jupiter about 2° above the nearly full moon. 

            The full moon – the “Hunter’s” or “Falling Leaves” moon – occurs on 10/9. 

            October 4^th marks the launch by the Soviet Union of Sputnik 1, the first artificial satellite to orbit the Earth. It sent a radio signal back to Earth for three weeks before its three silver-zinc batteries ran out. It continued in orbit for two months until atmospheric drag caused it to fall back into the atmosphere and burn-up on the 4th of January 1958, triggering the “Space Race” between the U.S. and the USSR. 

            As of 1/22, there are now 4,852 satellites in orbit, with the U.S. owning the most – 2,944. China ranks second with only 499.

            And, if you haven’t noticed, we’re losing sunlight rapidly. By 10/14, we’ll be down to 11 hours of sunlight.

 

Thought for the Week

            In reference to ancient white cedars growing out of the Niagara Escarpment on the Bruce Peninsula in Ontario: “There is nothing like it in Canada,” said Peter Kelly, a member of University of Guelph’s Cliff Ecology Research Group. “These cedar trees have been living on these cliffs for over 1,000 years, including two trees that sprouted from seed before the year 700 AD . . . The oldest of the living trees began life shortly after the death of Mohammed, the founder of Islam, and before Genghis Khan and the Viking colonization of North America.”

 

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 9/16-29, 2022

 A Northwoods Almanac for 9/16-29, 2022  

 

Orchids!

            Around 39 species of native orchids occur in Wisconsin’s Northwoods, many of which are associated with wetlands, whether they be cedar swamps, bogs, fens, marshes, or other soggy classifications. But this summer, Mary, Callie and I spotted three species of orchids right along some of the dry dikes at Powell Marsh, two species of which we had never seen before. To be sure, the orchids were off the edges of the sandy dikes and in some damper ground, but still, we were quite surprised to spot them in areas that are regularly mowed and frequently walked.

            I want to tell you about two of the species. On July 9, Mary and I found numerous patches of ragged fringed-orchids (Platanthera lacera) along a portion of one of the dikes. 

ragged fringed orchid, photo by John Bates

What made it more remarkable to us was that we had walked this area many times over the last 38 years and had never seen them! I imagine they were always there, but we weren't observant enough to spot them. Just another lesson in how you think you know a place, and you really don't, as well as a lesson in how a place changes throughout the summer. The natural world changes day to day, and the idea of saying “been there, done that” about any place only suggests how little one understands about nature.

            The species name lacera is Latin meaning “torn,” which aptly describes the deeply cut, or fringed, lip of the flower, while Platanthera comes from the Greek platys meaning “broad or wide” and anthera meaning “anther” (anthers are the part of the male stamens that hold the pollen). 

            The flowers are nocturnally fragrant, attracting night pollinators like sphinx moths, so we’ll have to go out in the evening next summer to inhale their fragrance.

            And in early September we found a dozen or so nodding ladies’ tresses orchids (Spiranthes cernua) along a different dike, and only in one small area. 

nodding ladies' tresses, photo by John Bates

Ladies’ tresses are one of the last of the orchid family to bloom in all of the Northeast, and accompany our more common early fall flowers like goldenrods and asters. The common name derives from the way the flowers are displayed – they appear a bit like a woman’s braid, which is the old meaning of “tress.”

            I usually think of orchids as being species of older, stable environments, but nodding ladies’ tresses are a pioneer species, rapidly colonizing disturbed habitats, and thriving only in the early stages of succession.

            In reading about ladies’ tresses, I came upon something I’ve never observed, most likely for lack of my paying attention. Bees pollinate ladies’ tresses, and the literature says that if you “observe a bee visiting a colony of the plants, you will find that the insect always starts at the bottom of the spiral spike of flowers and works its way up to the top, then flies to the bottom of the next plant’s spike, works upward, etc.” Apparently, this is a perfect example of coevolution, because the lower flowers of the ladies’ tresses mature first and are ready to receive pollen, whereas the upper flowers are less developed and can only give pollen. Thus, a bee picks up new pollen from the top flowers of one plant, flies off to the next, starts at the bottom flower, and delivers the pollen to the mature lower flowers, fertilizing the flowers.

            I’ll not only watch for this in the future, but I’ll also remember to smell the flowers, which I failed to do – they are said to have a mild vanilla scent.

            I was curious how many orchids Mary and I have seen in northern Wisconsin over the years, and out of the possible 39 species, we’ve only tallied 18, so we have a lot more exploring to do.

             

Wild Rice

            I’m fascinated by the beauty, utility, and complexity of wild rice, so I attended Susan Knight’s recent presentation on wild rice at the North Lakeland Discovery Center to learn more. Susan works as a research scientist for the UW Trout Lake Limnology Station, and is an ace aquatic botanist, well-known in our area for the many presentations she has given to lake associations. Over the last two years, she and others have engaged in a study of wild rice to try and determine why wild rice is on the decline on many sites throughout the Upper Midwest. The Great Lakes Indian Fish and Wildlife Commission in Odanah reports a 50% loss of rice across 40 Wisconsin waterways since 1985, and especially over the last six years. Areas like the southwest basin of Allequash Lake, which historically have supported extensive rice beds, are now nearly devoid of rice.   

wild rice flowers, photo by John Bates on Aurora Lake

         

            The difficulty with studying wild rice is that it naturally, and often annually, changes in abundance, and  the environmental factors that influence its abundance are not well understood or monitored. Wild rice is a finicky annual aquatic grass, and factors such as spring temperatures and water levels affect its abundance. So, one has to be careful in analyzing short-term changes. The long-term question is why some rice lakes are doing well while others are failing, and how does one tease apart “normal” variation from “abnormal” variation?

            This study has a different approach. While most wild rice projects look at populations in late summer, this study focused on looking at wild rice through the entire growing season, following the rice from early spring onward, and developing tools to assess the health of the population throughout its life cycle.

            The researchers chose six local lakes to study: two that are doing well (Aurora and Wild Rice lakes), two that are doing poorly (Allequash and Irving lakes), and two that impacted by invasive species (Island and Oneida lakes). They sampled every two weeks in shallow and deeper waters for variables in water temperature, dissolved oxygen, the percentage of other aquatic plants like water lilies that compete with wild rice, and the amount of thatch on the lake bottom (leaf stalks of the rice), as well as counting the stems of rice over various transects, the height of the rice, and sampling for seeds in the sediments.

            The results? Well, they’re inconclusive. Studying an annual like wild rice that varies naturally over time requires long-term monitoring and long-term data sets to be able to say anything definitive, and this has only been a two-year study.

            Wild rice, Susan says, is under assault by things like higher-than-average water levels for the past half-decade, big rain events in spring that might flush wild rice seedlings downstream, milder winters that might allow more perennial vegetation to encroach on their habitat, and more waterfowl, especially swans, that eat the entire plant and don’t wait for seed production and increased development along our lakes and streams. Invasives like curly-leaf pondweed and Eurasian water milfoil are also of concern, as are the unnatural water level fluctuations created by dams designed to mitigate flooding and provide electrical power, but not to promote rice populations. Shoreline development is another factor, as is the decline in water quality in certain areas from sulfide mining.

            It’s complicated! Defining what’s “normal” is an exceedingly difficult task, as surprising as that may sound. Every lake is different. Let me repeat that: Every lake is different. Parsing out the possible factors impacting rice on one lake may not apply to the next lake, and so on.

            We’ve always had natural cycles of high and low waters, and variations in the intensity of rainfall, but are these cycles more extreme now? The answer is yes, and perhaps that’s where much of the blame will be found. But the impact of our expanding trumpeter swan population browsing the young stems may also be a significant factor.

            Further study is clearly warranted, because keeping viable wild rice populations matters not only to people but to a host of wildlife species. I hope the Trout Lake study can be funded over the long-term, so we can get closer to understanding how to conserve our wild rice beds.

 

Lapland Longspurs

            Mary and I hiked one of the dikes at Powell Marsh on 9/5, and had a flock of five Lapland longspurs land in front of us. This is notable because Lapland longspurs breed at the edge of the tree-line across vast areas of the Arctic tundra and are only occasionally seen in migration through our area. They winter in open fields across the central states with their greatest abundance on the Great Plains from South Dakota to Kansa.

            They’re a sparrow-like songbird that for non-birders in the fall may be classified as yet another LBB (little brown bird), but in their breeding plumage, the male is absolutely striking, with a black face, a yellow stripe above the eye, and a rufous nape.

 

Fireweed Seeds

            Fireweed has lost its lovely magenta flowers, and has now gone to seed. The seedpods split apart lengthwise releasing 300 to 500 seeds per pod - a single plant can produce up to 80,000 seeds! They’re all attached to a silky down that is easily carried far away on a wind. A 1987 study found that up to 50% of fireweed seed plumes cruise on winds higher than 300 feet, and can travel for a hundred miles or more where they hope to settle on bare soil, particularly after a fire, and can germinate.

 

fireweed in seed, photo by John Bates

Celestial Events

            Autumn equinox occurs on 9/22. Our days are now growing shorter by over three minutes every day. The sun will set this day nearest to due west, and will rise nearest to due east on 9/24. In the Lakeland area, we actually hit almost exactly 12 hours of sunlight on 9/25, then it’s the long decline in sunlight until winter solstice on 12/21, and the gradual return of more sunlight leading up to the spring equinox in mid-March.

            The new moon occurs on 9/25.

            If you haven’t been out looking for planets in the night sky, try looking after dusk for Jupiter rising in the east – it will be visible most of the night. Saturn also rises before sunset in the southeast and is observable all evening.

            Mars rises before midnight and is visible before dawn in the south, while Jupiter is bright in the southwest. 

 

Thought for the Week

            “The land retains an identity of its own, still deeper and more subtle than we can know. Our obligation toward it then becomes simple: to approach with an uncalculating mind, with an attitude of regard . . . be alert for its openings, for that moment when something sacred reveals itself within the mundane, and you know the land knows you are there.” – Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams

 

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 September 2-15, 2022

 A Northwoods Almanac for September 2 – 15, 2022  

 

Albino Hummingbird

            On 8/13, Cydney Welter sent me a photo of an albino ruby-throated hummingbird taken by Jolie Wood from Mosinee at her lake cabin rental in the Boulder Junction area. Jolie and friends saw it for the first time on 8/11, and it stayed around through 8/13 when she went home. Cydney noted, “It has not been to her feeders, but loves her bee balm plants.”

photo by Jolie Wood

            Over 300 species of North American birds and animals, from whales to snails, have been recorded as having some form of albinism or its many variants. In humans, about one in 20,000 people have one type or another of albinism. Mammalogists estimate that one in 10,000 wild mammal births results in a true albino. In birds, one study of 30,000 wild birds captured in mist nets in Southern California found only 17 displaying some degree of albinism, or one in 1,764 birds.

            Note this from the National Organization for Albinism and Hypopigmentation: “A common myth is that people with albinism have red eyes. Although lighting conditions can allow the blood vessels at the back of the eye to be seen, which can cause the eyes to look reddish or violet, most people with albinism have blue eyes, and some have hazel or brown eyes. There are different types of albinism and the amount of pigment in the eyes varies.”

            The same holds true for birds or mammals. Relative to the white deer seen so frequently in our area, these are indeed albinos despite the fact that their eyes are not red, but rather are a greenish-blue. Years ago, I contacted Dr. William Oetting at the Institute of Human Genetics at the University of Minnesota to determine if our local white deer were indeed albinos. I sent him close-up pictures of two of the deer, and through a series of correspondences, he concluded, “Without confirming this with molecular testing, both of these deer have tyrosinase negative oculocutaneous albinism. There is a lack of pigment in the hair, skin and eyes of both deer.  A close-up of the eye of the yearling shows a lack of pigment in the iris (green-blue).”

 

Nighthawk Migration

            Late August into early September is the time to observe nighthawks in migration in the early evening. Jennifer Heitz reported seeing dozens of nighthawks over the Wisconsin River near Tomahawk on 8/26 around 6 p.m., and the next night, a handful over Ballard Lake. She noted, “They’re so beautiful. I know fall is coming when I see them.”

photo by Bev Engstrom

            As of 8/28, the nighthawk migration has yet to come into full swing, so by the time you read this on 9/2, there may still be numerous nighthawks coming through.

            Over the last two weeks of August, thousands of nighthawks typically fly over Duluth like clockwork during their marathon migration to South America. It's the largest known migratory concentration of the common nighthawk in the world. The reason they concentrate through Duluth is Lake Superior, because birds don't like flying over such a huge body of cold water. So, when nighthawks from all over western Canada migrate south and east, they eventually hit the big lake, and when they do, they veer to the right, eventually flying over Duluth. Counts over the last 13 years have usually totaled between 20,000 and 25,000.
            In Canada, the population is estimated to be declining 6.6 percent per year, but that isn’t what’s been seen so far over Duluth. The expectation, however, is that the counters will see a major drop in upcoming years, which is why counts like this are so important to document actual numbers.

            So, as I encourage readers every late summer into early autumn, keep an eye on the sky during early evenings for nighthawks. Their erratic flight is a telltale identification trait, as is the bold white bar on the underside of each narrow wing.

 

Hawk Ridge, Duluth, MN

            September is THE month for seeing enormous numbers of raptors migrating over hawk Ridge in Duluth, while August acts as the prelude to the big flights. As of 8/28, 4,030 birds had been observed flying over Hawk Ridge, including 84 species. 

            The counters tally not only raptors, but songbirds. Cedar waxwings have dominated the count to date at 1,399, with nighthawks coming in a distant second at 594. Bald eagles have led the raptors in numbers with 177.

            The big numbers come in mid-September when broad-winged hawks make their annual push south. Broad-winged hawks are one of the few raptor species known to deliberately migrate in large groups, often observed in “kettles” composed of thousands of individuals that usually develop in very specific weather conditions. The record daily high was 101,698 on 9/15/2003!

            Most other raptors, like sharp-shinned hawks, migrate singly or in in small groups. Still, the record daily high for sharpies was 2,515 on 9/24/2017, so other raptors can come through in large numbers, too. 

            Raptors come through in October as well. The record daily high for red-tailed hawks took place on 10/24/1994 with 3,988 observed.

            Over the entire autumn, the total numbers are really impressive. From 1991 to 2013, Hawk Ridge’s fall migration averaged 76,000 migrating raptors.

            Of course, most birds migrate at night, and aren’t seen by the hawk counters. But sophisticated radar technology now makes it possible to estimate the number of birds flying over an area on a given night. So, on the Hawk Ridge website, click on “BirdCast,” which will take you to a page that estimates the total number of birds that migrated over St. Louis County on any given evening, as well as telling you what altitude, flying direction, and speed they were flying at, and the expected species that were likely part of that migration. For instance, on the evening of 8/27 into the early morning of 8/28, 15,700 birds were estimated to have crossed St. Louis county that night, most of whom were flying at an altitude between 1,000 and 1,500 feet, and at a flight speed from 15 to 35 mph, with the peak of the migration occurring from 10 p.m. to midnight.

 

North American Hawk Count

            If you’re interested in knowing about when and where all raptor migration is occurring across North America, go to the Hawk Migration Association of North America's website which has raptor migration count data and site profiles for over 300 North American hawkwatch sites. Here you can find hawkwatch sites by site name or location, as well as view hawkwatch profiles, their maps and data, and more.

            So, for instance, on 8/26, the Corpus Christi, Texas, hawkwatch counted 9,238 Mississippi kites passing over their count site, along with 10 swallow-tailed kites, 33 broad-winged hawks, 2 Cooper’s hawks, and one Harris’s hawk.

            The next day, 8/27, in Veracruz, Mexico, 4,445 Mississippi kites were observed cruising by their hawk watch site, along with 2 ospreys. 

            Go to https://hawkcount.org to look at all the daily reports across the continent from Oregon to Maine, and north to south from various sites in Canada to Panama.

 

Sweet Fern

            Sweet fern (Comptonia peregrina) grows prolifically in our area in sandy, wide-open, sun-lit places. One can tell at a glance the poor quality of a soil by the presence of sweet fern. But sweet fern fills a necessary niche. By colonizing logging roads, old fields, and other disturbed sites, sweet fern helps to stabilize the soil. Sweet fern also fixes nitrogen, meaning it can convert nitrogen from the air rather than taking it from the soil, and so improves the soil it’s found on. Like other plant pioneers, sweet fern makes the bed for future plant species to grow in.   

photo by John Bates

            If you're looking for fern-like qualities, like spores, you aren't going to find them – it’s a flowering shrub. Sweet fern produces separate male and female flowers in the spring before the leaves appear, the male flower clustered at the end of the branches in short catkins, and the female flower found below. The fruit is a green bur-like structure that reminds me a little of a mace, a medieval weapon with a spiked metal head.

            Crush the highly aromatic leaves, and you might smell something akin to sage, and indeed its other common name is “Indian sage.”  

            I learned recently that in the time before refrigeration, Ojibwe people kept their blueberry harvest fresh by lining their birchbark storage containers with sweet fern, which often grows right alongside blueberries. The leaves of sweet fern apparently produce a compound called gallic acid, which is a potent anti-microbial and keeps harmful bacteria like salmonella from growing on the berries. I’ve read that its Ojibwe name is “giba`iganiminzh,” meaning “it covers the berries.”

            Sweet fern once had a host of medicinal uses – as an external lineament for bruises and for rheumatism, or taken internally for colic, to cure diarrhea and dysentery, or drunk simply as a tea. The Mohegans applied the cooled tea to cure the rashes of poison ivy. The crushed and dried leaves fragrantly scented pillows and clothing as well, and were used by American Indians to flavor meat. I have heard of its use for bronchial ailments, and its "Vicks"-like smell would seem to support that usage.  

            And when added to a fire, the smoke supposedly will help keep away mosquitos and horse flies, though I’ve never tried this.

            

July Warmth

            July 2022 was the third warmest in the 128-year record for the contiguous U.S., according to NOAA. Generally, temperatures were above average and/or record-warm across nearly all of the Lower 48, with Texas having its warmest July, May-July and April-July on record. 

 

Thought for the Week

            “We don’t see things as they are. We see them as we are.” – Anais Nin