All posts by Cam Mannino

The Milkweed Connection: A “Welcome Home” for Our Superhero Monarchs

Monarch on Joe Pye (Eutrochium maculatum)

Great news! Reports from the Monarch Butterfly wintering grounds in Mexico say that this will be another good year for Monarch Butterflies (Danaus plexippus) in our area! Monarchs of the Midwest and Northeast count on us to provide a big pulse of wildflowers with nectar to sip and lots of Milkweeds (genus Asclepias) on which to lay their eggs. Monarchs are very choosy! Their caterpillars can only become butterflies by eating  the leaves of plants in the Milkweed family.

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

In February, Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township stewardship manager, hosted an interesting and  thorough presentation by Dr. Nate Haan of Michigan State University on the topic “Monarch Butterfly Ecology and Conservation.” So here’s  a bit of what he shared with us that might help you and I be prepared for the arrival of these beautiful pollinators. My thanks to Dr. Haan for his presentation and to the photographers cited in the captions of some photos below for helping me tell the amazing story of our “super generation” of Monarchs.

The Life of a Monarch from Egg to Adult

One end of the Monarch migration starts each late summer/ autumn here in Michigan and other Midwest and Northeastern states. Monarchs that traveled here in spring sip wildflower nectar, mate and lay eggs on the underside of milkweed  leaves. Their favorite milkweed is Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), though any milkweed in the Asclepias species will do. More about that later.

A monarch butterfly egg on the underside of a Common Milkweed leaf (Photo by Merav Vonshak (CC BY-NC) at inaturalist.org

Only about 2-10% of the Monarch eggs hatch in the fields, because they are food for a wide variety insects and spiders.  But for the lucky few, small caterpillars emerge from these eggs.  They begin by eating the egg itself and then going on to eat the leaves of the host milkweed plant. Milkweed has tiny silver hairs as a protection against predators, but over the eons Monarch caterpillars have learned to shave them off!  They then attach their hind end to the leaf and move in a half circle eating, which prevents most of them from getting stuck in the milky latex that gives milkweed its name. Then the little caterpillar molts, shedding its exoskeleton to become an increasingly more colorful and larger caterpillar. It takes them five molts to reach full size.

A Monarch caterpillar (probably a 2nd instar)  eating a milkweed leaf. Photo by permission from Tanya Harvey at http://westerncascades.com/2017/07/04/a-week-of-monarchs-and-milkweed-day-1/

The sticky, milky latex is the plant’s second defense against predators, because it can gum up a caterpillar’s mouth. But the fifth and last  molt of the Monarch caterpillar has found an even more effective way to defuse the threat than the first instar did. The large yellow and black fifth instar’s technique is to make a quick bite into the main vein of the leaf, releasing pressure and waiting until the liquid drains out.  Then they can continue to eat anywhere on the leaf. Here’s  my photo of a fifth instar eating Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) along the Paint Creek Trail.

A 5th instar Monarch caterpillar eating on Butterfly Milkweed

It takes 10-14 days for the caterpillar to complete 5 molts.  It then leaves the milkweed behind, finds a horizontal surface, attaches itself with a silk pad and molts again. This time the caterpillar creates an opaque green chrysalis with gold trim! The chrysalis hardens after a short time and the butterfly begins to develop inside. This pupal stage lasts for another 10-14 days.

A Monarch chrysalis, photo by inaturalist.org photographer Pam Kleinsasser (CC BY NC)

Finally, the chrysalis becomes transparent and the the butterfly emerges to dry its wings before taking flight.

Monarch emerging from its translucent chrysalis, photo by inaturalist.org photographer gvelazco (CC BY-SA)
A Monarch butterfly taking off on a sunny afternoon

The Super Powers of our Monarch “Super Generation”

The Monarchs fluttering over our parks in August and September are gifted with two super powers: they live much longer than other Monarchs, and they can fly over 3000 miles to overwinter in Mexico. I’ve cited this quote from National Geographic before in discussing monarchs but it bears repeating. According to Dr. Pablo Jaramillo-López, a research scientist at the National Autonomous University of Mexico “…when fall rolls around …, a special ‘super generation’ of monarchs that can live up to eight months will make use of air currents to wing all the way back to Mexico—a seemingly impossible feat for such a delicate-looking insect.”

Monarchs arriving in central Mexico for the winter. Photo by Carlos Dominguez-Rodriquez (CC BY-NC) at inaturalist.org.

It can take up to two months for our Monarchs to reach the mountains of central Mexico. They spend the winter there, protected by the micro-climate created by Oyamel, or “Sacred” Fir trees (Abies religiosa).

Monarchs wintering in Mexico, photo by Mario Castañeda-Sánchez (CC BY-NC) at iNaturalist.org

In the spring, our “super generation” monarchs then start the journey back to Michigan by flying as far north as Texas. After mating and laying eggs there, they die, and their offspring carry on the migration north. It takes four or five generations of Monarchs along the way, each living only 5-7 weeks (instead of 8 months!) for the last of our super-generation’s offspring to land with such exquisite delicacy on the wildflowers in our parks. As Dr. Pablo Jaramillo-López says in National Geographic, “This makes the migrating monarchs so unique as they are the same species but for some reason live much longer.”

Monarch on Grass-leaved Goldenrod (Euthamia graminifolia)

The Threats that Monarchs Face

A graph showing the general decline in the number of Monarch butterflies. Data from 1994-2003 were collected by personnel of the Monarch Butterfly Biosphere Reserve (MBBR) of the National Commission of Protected Natural Areas (CONANP) in Mexico. Data from 2004-2019 were collected by the WWF-Telcel Alliance, in coordination with the Directorate of the MBBR. 2000-01 population number as reported by Garcia-Serrano et. al (The Monarch Butterfly : Biology and Conservation, 2004)
The Monarch Joint Venture is a national partnership of federal and state agencies, non-governmental organizations, businesses and academic programs working together to conserve the monarch butterfly migration. The content in this article does not necessarily reflect the positions of all Monarch Joint Venture partners.

Monarch numbers go up and down but sadly, over the last two decades the trend is generally downward as you can see above. So what’s the problem?  As usual, there are multiple factors. Dr. Haan named five:

  1. Logging in their overwintering area in Mexico makes surviving in the mountains more difficult. The Mexican government and non-governmental organizations are working on finding sustainable projects that can support local economic alternatives for people living in the Monarch’s wintering grounds.
  2. Less wildflowers and more agricultural crops in the Great Plains and Midwest states. This leaves less nectar resources to feed the Monarchs and fewer milkweed stems on which to lay eggs for successive generations. Some farmers are changing their approach to their grazing and crop land to accommodate the Monarch’s need for milkweed.
  3. According to the Monarch Joint Venture website, OE (Ophryocystis elektroscirrha), a parasite can get on the wings of adult Monarchs, who then spread this parasite on the milkweed leaves when they mate or lay eggs. If caterpillars eat the leaves, they become infected with the pathogen that can cause a developing Monarch’s wings to be too weak to get out of its chrysalis and may shorten the lives of adult Monarchs. Tropical forms of milkweed sold by nurseries tend to be associated with this parasite and they should be avoided. Dr. Haan reported also that  Monarchs bred from more tropical areas, like Florida, may carry OE, too.
  4. Insecticides used on garden plants can be lethal to butterflies, as well as other beneficial insects. Perhaps the greatest problem is milkweed loss in the Midwest, which is the core breeding habitat for Monarchs.  Milkweed used to be much more common around and on farms.
  5. In the late 1990’s many farmers turned to Roundup Ready genetically modified seeds which makes their crops resistant to Roundup.  This allows farmers to spray Roundup on their crops,  which kills milkweed along with other unwanted plants without hurting their crops.   As a result, Dr. Haan said, scientists estimate that 40% of the milkweed needed by Monarchs, is gone, maybe a billion stems in the last 20 years, which coincides with the decline in Monarch populations.
MilkweedInCorn_NateHaan
Milkweed used to be a common weed in crop fields. Illustration by Nate Haan.

So How Do We Help Our Friendly Local Monarchs?

Well, we can use less insecticide and when we do use it, follow directions carefully. We can avoid growing non-native milkweeds that carry the parasite OE. We can plant milkweed to support developing caterpillars and nectar-producing native flowers to feed the adult Monarchs. Coneflowers, asters and goldenrods, and many other prairie flowers that prefer medium to dry soil and full sunlight flourish just when the super generation of Monarchs is beefing up for the long migration. Of course, lots of other butterflies, bees and other pollinators loves these flowers too!

 

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Varied Milkweed Species Feed Young Monarchs and Add Color to Our Fields and Gardens

Maybe the biggest  – and most beautiful – contribution we can make to the welfare of Monarch butterflies is to plant more milkweeds in our fields and gardens. Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) multiplies both by the parachuting seeds we all loved as children and by its extensive network of roots. So it can spread too quickly to be a great garden plant. But it’s perfect in big sunny fields or natural areas.

Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)

If you are lucky enough to have Common Milkweed on your property, it will help, Dr. Haan told us, if you trim/mow  down about a third of the milkweed stems on your property in late June or early July. He and his associate’s research shows that Monarchs prefer to lay more eggs on the tender stems that re-grow because they are easier to eat and more nutritious .

Graph showing how monarchs laid more eggs on new growth from milkweed stems mowed in mid-July (green-shaded area) than on milkweed unmowed (orange line) or mowed in mid-June (blue shaded area). Graph by Dr. Haan.

Since most of our milkweed plants are full grown by August, their leaves are old and tough and Monarch egg predators are present in large numbers. If you can trim or mow some of your milkweed plants in mid-summer, they will re-sprout and provide the softer leaves on which Monarchs like to plant their eggs in late July or early August for the migrating “Super Generation.” Those new stems also contain less predatory insects and spiders, meaning monarch eggs may have a better chance of surviving.

Luckily, If you’d like Monarchs in your yard or garden rather than a field, there are other kinds of milkweed for those settings. Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) tends to stay in one place. It needs a dry to medium moisture level and lots of sun. And what a beautiful orange to match the Monarchs! Other butterflies and pollinators love them too, of course!

Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) with a female Monarch

Swamp Milkweed aka Rose, Pink or Red Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) also loves sun, but as the word “Swamp” implies, it likes “wet feet” or at least medium to moist soil.

Swamp Milkweed blooming in August grows best in a moist spot.

If you have a shady area with medium to dry moisture levels, try planting the graceful Poke Milkweed (Asclepias exultata) with its cascade of bluish-white blossoms.

Unlike most milkweed, Poke Milkweed can grow in fairly shady areas.

Native plant nurseries (see the list in an earlier blog) can show you other native milkweeds as well. If possible, find ones that are Michigan genotypes since they will grow most easily and serve admirably as host plants for our Michigan Monarchs.

So Rewarding to Make a Difference, Isn’t It?

A “Super Generation” Monarch feeding on New England Aster before migration

Who knew, when I was a child, that milkweed plants would begin to diminish and the Monarchs would begin to decline as a result? And now we know, according to the recent summary of a biodiversity report, that as many as a million other species worldwide are in the same situation.

It’s easy to despair, I know – but let’s not! The best antidote to despair is always doing what you can in your own corner of the world and supporting others who share your concern for nature.

And in the case of the Monarch butterfly, it can be as simple as planting milkweed! Or it’s as easy as planting native flowers, grasses, shrubs, and trees in our yards instead of exotic plants. With no recent shared history, these exotic plants don’t always feed butterfly caterpillars and other beneficial native insects.  Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, it’s changing the non-native turf of your own lawn into large gardens filled with colorful native plants with paths of mowed turf leading from one to the next. Or it’s maybe creating a native prairie out of an old agricultural field like our township stewardship crew and some nature-loving homeowners are doing.

Eastern Prairie Ilsley July
Eastern Prairie at Charles Isley Park on July 12, 2018

All it takes is just caring, learning and getting started.  I’ve begun. The township parks stewardship crew has begun. Many of you have already begun.  What we can hope is that others will join us.

 

PHOTOS OF THE WEEK: Spring is a Super Busy Time for Stewardship!

 

Spring is an incredibly busy time for our stewardship manager, Dr. Ben VanderWeide. So many projects demand attention at once – and they all depend on so many variables! Planting native seed has to happen while the ground is still cold and wet. Prescribed burns, however, have to happen when the wind is low and from the right direction, and the plants are dry.

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

Meanwhile volunteer training and supervision is going on for vernal pool monitoring, nesting box monitoring and  burn crews. Whew! Here’s a sample of what went on in late March and April at just one location – Bear Creek Nature Park.

Seeding Mowed Areas with Native Seed

In late March, Dr. Ben and Stewardship Specialist Alyssa Radzwion began a project to spread the seeds of native grasses and wildflowers in the areas cleared by forestry mowing last fall. The hope is that these native plants can help prevent some renewed growth of the invasive shrubs that were removed. It’s a project that will take years of persistent work, but they made a good beginning.

Dr. Ben sowing native grass and wildflower seed at Bear Creek.

Monitoring the Life in Vernal Pools

In mid- April, the stewardship staff, a stewardship tech from the Six Rivers Land Conservancy (see Ian below) and a group of volunteers, including Parks Commissioner Dan Simon and his wife  pulled on tall boots and waders and ventured into the vernal pools in Bear Creek’s forest. The purpose is to monitor the health of these temporary pools, which are biodiversity hotspots in our forests.

Alyssa Radzwion and Ian Abelson of Six Rivers Land Conservancy observing tiny life in a vernal pool.

As usual, the crew found a surprising variety of creatures. Spring frogs, salamanders and many insects choose vernal pools as a good place to mate and lay eggs because they are free of hungry fish. The pools dry up and disappear in warmer weather, preventing fish from establishing if they are introduced.

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Nest Box Monitoring

For the second year, Dr. Ben has organized and trained a group of volunteers to monitor nest boxes from first nesting to the flight of fledglings. We “citizen scientists” report our data to Cornell Ornithology Lab’s “NestWatch” program. This year Ben added six boxes in Bear Creek Nature Park to the ones in Draper Twin Lake Park, Charles Ilsley Park, and along the Paint Creek Trail.  And I’ll be the Bear Creek monitor this year, which will be great! I’m hoping to count Eastern Bluebirds and Tree Swallows, and possibly Black-capped Chickadees or House Wrens where the nest boxes are closer to trees and shrubs. We might have Brown-headed Cowbirds to count too if those characters lay their eggs in any of the other birds’ nests!

The boxes were only up a day or so when Tree Swallows (Tachycineta bicolor) and Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) began to explore the boxes. I’m betting they are impressed with the real estate – new construction, a southeast exposure and a security system (metal predator guards to keep out raccoons, snakes, etc.). Between raindrops last Thursday,  I watched a pair of  Tree Swallows courting on one of the new boxes. They were doing their wet gurgling call to each other the whole time and touching beak-to-beak, while the male performed fancy wing displays. The male had just chased off a competitor, so he seemed excited!  It looks like an argument in the photo below, doesn’t it?  But I think it was just a lively prelude to mating.

What looks like an argument is just a lively display of courting behavior, I think.

I also found two completed Bluebird nests made of dry grasses in the new Bear Creek nest boxes, but didn’t get to see the female doing the building.  However, here’s a little Bluebird female I saw at Charles Ilsley Park  the week before bringing nesting material to her box.

A female Bluebird bringing nesting material to her box at Ilsley Park.

Much to my delight, four days later at Bear Creek Nature Park, I found the first egg in one of our new boxes – a Bluebird egg.  They lay one egg each day for 3-5 days and won’t start incubating them until all the eggs are laid. The eggs then generally hatch on the same day, making feeding the nestlings more efficient for the adult birds.  Remember, please, that only trained and certified volunteers are allowed to monitor the bluebird boxes so as not to cause too much disturbance at the nest!

First bluebird egg in the new boxes at Bear Creek.

Holding Prescribed Burns Using Trained Volunteers

The township uses prescribed burns to periodically refresh our fire-adapted native plants, which benefit from periodic fires. Some of these burns are complicated and require hiring professional burn crews. But many are conducted by a group of volunteers trained and supervised by Dr. Ben. In late April, previous volunteer crew members and some new volunteers practiced their skills with two small burns at Bear Creek Nature Park in the native gardens near the parking lot. Volunteers are an important part of the stewardship program and the teamwork is an great way to meet local people who care about the natural world. Consider joining us!

And a Celebratory Dance to End a Busy Month

Toward the very end of April, Dr. Ben arranged our annual Earth Day/Spring celebration: The Woodcock Dance Watch – and wow! This year’s dance was spectacular! This odd bird, with big eyes toward the back of its head, a stout body and a huge beak, does its unique aerial mating dance at dusk. After a short review of information about the American Woodcock (Scolopax minor), we toasted marshmallows while waiting for the sun to set. (Thanks to iNaturalist photographer Ty Smith for sharing his photo.)

Woodcock, photo by Ty Smith (CC BY-NC) at inaturalist.org

This year, one of our birding group members had been making almost nightly visits to Bear Creek Nature Park to watch one particular Woodcock who faithfully danced on the path near a certain puddle. So, as the sky darkened, ten of us gathered on the slope designated by our birder friend, Vinnie, and waited.

Dr. Ben with his wife, Debbie and birder Sigrid Grace

Suddenly, very close to us, the Woodcock landed on the path and started his dance. He began with a very odd bug-like buzz called a “peent” call while turning in circles, as he attempted to attract any available female. Then he took to the air with whirring wings, flying in lazy circles high in the air while burbling a different call. Finally he plopped back down right where he started. Without pause he started the “peenting” again, and the dance continued. It was an exciting performance! We all came away feeling it had been an evening well spent celebrating the spring rituals of the natural world.

A Busy Month for Nature and its Stewards

Ah, Spring! Little creatures slip into and out of ponds to begin mating. Seeds await the moisture and warmth they need to thrust new stems into the sunlight. Birds are busy migrating north, establishing territory, finding mates, building nests – even dancing!   And we humans are busy studying, recording and preparing  their habitat for another glorious summer!

Bear Creek Nature Park: Color! Song! A Sensory Trip Through Early Spring

The dry stalks of native Little Bluestem grasses paint a splash of soft orange on the somber canvas of spring..

Gray clouds blanket our April skies in Michigan – but the occasional bright blue day or a beam of pale sunlight slipping between the rain clouds can lift our spirits in a giddy instant. The earth emerges from its snow cover in shades of gray and brown – but summer birds return dressed in their spring finery, ready to join others in exuberant song.

Photos and text by Cam Mannino

Hibernators poke their heads from tree holes or slip out of the leaf litter or swim up from thawing ponds, ready to nurture a new generation of young. Early spring takes its time, offering us just a few tastes here and there of the colorful bustle ahead as the days grow longer.

Visitor Birds Fly In Bearing Color and Song on Their Bright Wings

I hope you’ve been able to open a window or step out your door to listen to the birds’ dawn chorus in the last few days. Just in case, I thought I’d play a recording I made outside our home last Sunday morning. If you increase your volume,  you’ll hear the insistent call of Northern Cardinal, the buzzing call of a Red-winged Blackbird, the “kwirrr call of the Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus), the “tweeeeets” of American Goldfinches (Spinus tristis) and in the background, Canada Geese (Branta canadensis) high overhead, plus a few smaller birds twittering along.  It’s a joyful noise after a cold winter.

The male Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) you heard above, of course, has provided splashes of scarlet against the snow all winter.  But now some old friends are arriving for the summer, brightening up an April day. Members of our birding group heard the high pitched whistling calls of Cedar Waxwings (Bombycilla cedrorum) and then spotted a small group that had settled into trees near a Bear Creek Nature Park wetland. The yellow tips of their tails and yellow bellies added a spot of sunshine on a blue/gray morning. Though Waxwings can stay here year ’round, I see Waxwings less often in the winter. I’m glad some of them choose to nest in Bear Creek each year.

One of a group of Cedar Waxwings seen by the birding group.

As a friend and I skirted the eastern edge of the Center Pond one afternoon, we heard a splash and looked up to see a female Belted Kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon) flying up into a tree with her quarry. She swallowed it, though, before I got her picture. Her blue and rust colored belts show that she’s a female.

The male has only one blue belt. Fortunately, last Sunday, the male was at the Center Pond. When my husband and I arrived, the kingfisher was very agitated, calling as he dashed from tree to tree. These kingfishers don’t sing. At best, their fast, rat-a-tat rattle provides the other birds’ vocals with a little background percussion.

The gorgeous male Wood Duck (Aix sponsa) brought more than his share of brilliant color to the chilly waters of the Playground Pond. Together he and his mate will scout for a nesting hole high in the top of a tree near water in the woods nearby. Wood Duck nestlings are “precocial,”  meaning born ready to go – eyes open, covered in feathers and, in their case, outfitted with claws for climbing. Only days after birth, they claw their way up to the edge of their nest cavity and leap into the air, following their mother’s calls below.  They fall harmlessly into the leaf litter or water and join her in the the nearest pond to feed. Amazing feat for a baby bird! The adult birds make quite a racket when taking flight, the male’s “zeet” call is very different from the female’s “oo-eek.”

Though Wood Ducks generally choose a mate in January, this one seemed to have arrived alone. A few days later, his mate showed up.

The diminutive Ruby-crowned Kinglet (Regulus calendula) repeatedly sang his lovely up-and-down spring song while he hopped about frenetically in a cluster of vines near the Playground Pond. Through the tangled branches, I could see the red crown raised slightly atop his head, but never got a clear shot. Luckily, gifted local photographer, Joan Bonin, got a lovely photo when a kinglet posed on a branch for her at Holland Ponds in Shelby Township. Thanks to Joan for sharing her excellent photographs for the blog!

In his brilliant iridescent green head, yellow beak and orange legs, the Mallard  (Anas platyrhynchos) seemed to be leading his more modestly dress mate around the Playground Pond one afternoon. But when the female Mallard spotted me, she turned and swam away, quacking insistently until the male looked around nervously, saw me and fled toward her, scrambling awkwardly across some submerged logs to catch up with his mate. By the way, that famous  “Quack!” is only given by Mallard females. Have a listen to it along with male’s very different call at this link.

A pair of mallards cruised the Playground Pond, keeping an eye on the Wood Duck.

Near the Walnut Lane, a wonderful ripple of song flowed down from the treetops. After a bit of peering around, high above I spotted an American Robin holding forth repeatedly with his up-and-down lilting spring song. I recorded his music and then looked up and took a photo from an angle I hadn’t noticed before. I got a worm’s eye view, you might say, of that very sharp, probing beak and felt glad it wasn’t being thrust in my direction!

Over in the marsh, the male Red-winged Blackbirds have been clucking and buzzing from atop the cat-tails for a couple of weeks as a way of establishing territory. Last week, the females began to arrive. Maybe their dark striping lets them blend safely into the shadows while they tend their nests among the stems down near the water. (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

And Then the Frogs Join the Chorus!

After one warm April day, the hibernating spring frogs broke into song. Every wetland at Bear Creek trilled with the high-pitched peeping of Chorus Frogs (genus Pseudacris) and lower chuckling gurgle of the Wood Frogs. Both have been frozen all winter with no heartbeat and no brain waves but enough built-in anti-freeze in their cells to somehow stay alive. And as soon as they warm up, they’re ready to sing!

The Wood Frogs, like the one above,  are easier to spot because they croak while floating on the surface,  flexing their legs in an occasional kick. The thrust creates concentric circles in the water around them, so I look for the little masked frogs in the middle of those circles. Most Chorus frogs are harder to see, usually huddled on, against or under logs. I haven’t spotted one yet this spring, (though their piercing songs can be deafening up close! Here’s a photo, though, from a previous year.

A Chorus Frog in mid-cheep.

Some of our local Chorus Frogs, Spring Peepers, (Pseudacris crucifer) are nocturnal. I imagine that the Bear Creek Nature Park neighbors are hearing them when the sun sets, or will shortly. If you see one sleeping on a leaf during the day as I did once, you’ll see the “X” on its back just behind its head, though it’s hard to see in this shot. Isn’t it tiny?

Spring peepers are the nocturnal spring frog you’re hearing at night.

Other Hibernators Emerge…

The Raccoon (Procyon lotor) that I watch for every year in the oak-hickory forest has already given birth to four kits.  One of them is what’s sometimes called a “blond morph”; it’s not an albino, just a different morph or phenotype of the raccoon. I saw a blond adult raccoon a few years ago in the same tree so that trait must be in the local gene pool. The four kits (one is barely visible at the back right) seem to be laying across their sleeping mother’s back in order  to get a good look at me. She’s probably catching up on her sleep after hunting all night to feed these youngsters!

Four raccoon kits , three of whom were checking me out. The one on the right is a light phenotype, which is unusual but not extremely rare.

A couple other hibernators made their first appearance in the last two weeks.  An Eastern Chipmunk (Tamias striatus), that had dozed off and on all winter in its multi-chambered den, emerged and just sat quietly in a patch of sunlight along the entrance trail. The light must take some getting used to after months underground, just waking now and then to eat stored nuts and seeds.

A quiet Chipmunk sat in the sunlight, enjoying being out its underground den after a long winter.

A pair of Midland Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta marginata) kept each other company on a log in the Playground Pond last week. The slightly warmer water must have signaled them to leave their winter torpor in the mud below and swim up into the light and air. I wondered if these two were a pair; the lower one maintained a steady stare at the higher one, who paid no attention while I was there. They both probably were just staring off into the distance, though, as turtles often do.

Painted Turtles emerged from the mud below into the light of a rainy day at the Playground Pond

Over in the marsh, a whole group of them gathered in the reeds and assumed exactly the same pose in order to soak up the sun on their dark shells.

A group of Painted Turtles bask in identical poses in the marsh.

A couple Snapping Turtles (Chelydra serpentina) surfaced in the marsh as well. One fed with its head down as it cruised the marsh, eating vegetation. It looked just like a slowly moving green lump! But the other, much smaller, was basking with its entire body encased in vivid green Duckweed (genus Lemna). It seems very content with the look, and probably feeling, it had created, eh?

A small Snapping Turtle basking in a covering of duckweed.

Plants Begin to Bloom…and Butterflies (and others) aren’t Far Behind!

Just as spring was breaking and icy puddles were melting, I came across a little stream burbling through Bear Creek Nature Park’s eastern woods. This streams runs out of the Center Pond toward the marsh, joining Bear Creek after it leaves the march. Such a lovely spring sound!

On the north side of the Center Pond last week, the Willows (genus Salix) bloomed and (hooray!) we got our first glimpse this year of butterflies – and other pollinators.  First we saw one of the hibernating butterflies, the Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa). It looked a bit ragged from having spent the winter in a tree cavity or under loose bark on the snow-covered ground. It’s often the first butterfly I see in the spring. Mourning cloaks generally don’t pollinate much because they sip tree sap or the honeydew of aphids, rather than nectar from flowers. This one might have been displaying in order to attract a female.

Mourning Cloak on a blooming willow.

On the same plant, a migrator, the Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta) posed. It does sip nectar but it also competes with other males for territory by showing off its flying skills. Perhaps that’s why this one was flitting busily from limb to limb.

A Red Admiral had migrated from the south, probably Texas, to land on this willow near the Center Pond last Sunday.

On one bloom, we saw what appeared a small Wasp (maybe suborder Apocrita). It seemed very busy enjoying the willow’s pollen.  According to Wikipedia, unlike the better known wasps, like Yellowjackets (fam. Vespidae), most wasps are solitary with each female living and breeding alone.

A solitary wasp on willow blooms.

Over in a wetland on the west side of the marsh, the strange blossom of Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) had thrust itself up out of the mud. Its purple and yellow spathe covers a tiny spike of petal-less flowers inside. The smell of skunk cabbage attracts early spring flies that pollinate this sci-fi looking blossom. It releases a skunk-like smell and a bitter taste when bruised which means most predators stay away, too. The stem of Skunk Cabbage remains beneath the ground and the green leaves rise after the flowers. Odd, how this eccentric plant with the nasty scent seems to reverse my expectations of how plants grow in the spring!

The flower of the Skunk Cabbage rises from the mud with a spike of tiny flowers protected by the purple and yellow cover of the spathe.

The brightest colors in the woods now, though, are the vivid greens of Moss (members of the Bryophytes). Spring light sifts through bare limbs providing enough sunlight to feed these interesting, ancient plants. The leafy green parts of moss are “gametophytes” that produce the gametes, sperm and ova. Once spring raindrops rinse the sperm across the surface of the moss to a waiting ovum, fertilization occurs and a tall thin “sporophyte” rises from the green surface. The sporophyte will eventually release it spores. These spores initiate thin filaments called the “protonema” out of which grow new gametophytes, starting a new patch of moss.

Here are what I’m guessing are three different stages of moss growing on the same tree near the marsh. Or maybe its three different mosses? I’m too much of an amateur naturalist to know.  I do know that I love the green glow of moss in the dappled light of the forest. (If you are knowledgeable about mosses, please feel free to correct my guesses and help me identify them! )

If mosses just don’t do it for you, don’t despair.  Thanks to last fall’s forestry mowing north of the pond, sun has already reached the sunny faces of the Blood Root (Sanguinaria canadensis). I admire its leafy cloak that rises with the flower wrapped inside.

Bloodroot bloomed early this year because sunlight reached it after the forestry mowing.

The first tender leaves and buds of the woodland wildflower, Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginica) are already rising at the feet of trees in the Oak-Hickory forest.

And out in the eastern meadow, a Pussy Willow (Salix discolor) began to bud a few weeks ago, while it peacefully hosts a wide assortment of developing insects within its pine cone-shaped Willow galls. Last Sunday, it had bloomed, but the insects didn’t seem to be issuing forth yet.

Slip on Your Boots and Your Raincoat!  Spring is Singing Its Siren Song

Song sparrow (Melospiza melodia) singing.

Spring’s a great time to act like a kid again. Try heading for the park on a rainy day and let the sounds and sights of spring cheer you like they did when you were small. Slosh through a puddle.  Squelch through some mud.  Leave your earbuds at home – and pause, eyes closed,  for a short serenade by a Robin or a Song Sparrow.  Use your binoculars to scan the wetlands for tiny frogs, their throats bulging with song. Let your color-starved eyes feast on  the yellow of a Waxwing’s belly, the emerald shine of a Mallard’s head,  the exotic, multi-colored pattern of a  Wood Duck’s plumage.  Swish your palm across a soft cushion of a vivd green moss. Perhaps even get close enough to a skunk cabbage to make your nose wrinkle. Our senses need a good workout after being indoors for so long.  Treat yourself to a walk in the park. I can pretty much guarantee you’ll come home  happier than when you left.  Works for me every single time.

Photos of the Week: A Birthday Gift of Vultures

On a cold April morning, a monumental figure appeared on the roof ridge of an empty house we can see through our woods.

A turkey vulture in full wingspread on a nearby rooftop.

We’d noticed a pair of vultures over the field next door, circling together, diving and turning, sculpting patterns in the cold morning air. Then a few minutes later, a monumental shape appeared on the roof ridge of an empty house through the woods. A Turkey Vulture (Cathartes aura) had landed and spread its powerful 5-6 foot wingspan.   But where was the other bird? Ah, peering through the trees, I spied a somewhat smaller vulture perched on top of the chimney, keeping its partner company.

Now a pair of vultures were visible through the trees.

Of course, I ran off to consult the Cornell Ornithology Lab website and found this: “Often, especially in the morning, they can be seen standing erect, wings spread in the sun, presumably to warm up, cool off, or dry off.”

Text and photos
by Cam Mannino

Wikipedia added to that list the possibility of  “baking off bacteria” which would have made more sense on a warm summer morning.  I suspected they might be a mating pair, though the breeding season can run a bit later in their northern ranges.

Since turkey vultures form long term bonds after a group courting ritual, perhaps I was seeing an established  couple – or possibly an older bird with a younger one, since the smaller bird seemed to have more of the immature’s gray around its eyes than the typical fully red head of an adult. I wasn’t sure.

Eventually, the larger bird joined its partner on the flat surface of the chimney cap. Vultures evidently like to perch on abandoned buildings or any surface which is slightly cooler than its surroundings.

The larger bird settled down next to its somewhat smaller partner.

They stood together for a short time. The smaller bird lowered its head, perhaps recognizing an elder bird or signaling a willingness for a partnership.

Once settled in, they looked at each other for a time, the smaller seeming to be somewhat submissive to the larger.

They then spent a long time preening, which could have been a precursor to mating, but most likely is also important for any bird that eats carrion.

Turkey vultures, unlike Black Vultures (Coragyps atratus), rarely, if ever, kill anything. Instead they cruise using their excellent eyesight and keen sense of smell to spot a freshly dead animal. Their bare heads and sturdy digestive systems make them virtually invulnerable to contracting  anthrax, botulism or other diseases in decomposing meat. Vultures and other carrion eaters function in our habitat as a constantly vigilant clean up crew. For all my park visits, I rarely see or smell the remains of a dead animal – which I appreciate.

Predators don’t mess much with adult vultures. But when owls, hawks, or eagles do occasionally attack them, they aren’t agile enough to be good fighters. Their defense is to hiss or just vomit nasty, acid stomach contents on their attackers – and baby vultures do the same when attacked by raccoons or possums. I bet no predator tries that twice!

Vultures are admittedly homely, awkward birds on the ground. They hop and waddle with their wings akimbo and struggle to take flight. But once lift off occurs, they are masters of the sky!

Vultures soar on thermals, their wings in a low V shape, rarely flapping their huge wings.

They rise swiftly,  riding warm air thermals, circling high into the sky in a teetering, V-shaped flight. Rarely flapping those huge wings, they soar gracefully across and above the landscape. Light shines through the tapered tips of their primary (flight) feathers, creating what appears to be a wide silver-gray band edging their dark wings. I see them that way on almost every hike.

So I felt very lucky to have been gifted – on my birthday no less! – with a glimpse of these impressive birds in a more restful, and even intimate moment. No mating occurred, though. Before long, they both flexed those dark wings, took a few beats, and sailed back into the sky.

Native Plants: Turning My “Green Desert” Lawn into Humming, Fluttering Habitat

A Native Green Sweat Bee on Native Wild Geranium

In  March, I spent two glorious days at the 32nd annual convention of the Wildflower Association of Michigan. Having worked with Ben VanderWeide, our township’s Natural Areas Stewardship Manager for four years, I’m still absorbing information on native plants at a ferocious pace.

Text and photos
by Cam Mannino

Like many of us, I’d never given much thought to the sources of plants surrounding my house. The lovely family that built our house no doubt thought of landscaping and gardening more as a decorative exercise than as a crucial way to establish beautiful and healthy habitat for insects, birds, and other wildlife. As a result, the small woods on one side of our property is full of non-native plants, shrubs and trees which do little or nothing to create habitat that supports wildlife. Luckily, the other side was left largely in native trees and our small slice of field carries an assortment of prairie plants and grasses.

Dr. Doug Tallamy, author of Bringing Nature Home:  How You can Sustain Wildlife with Native Plants, gave the keynote at this sold-out conference. He shared the science behind native plants in a completely engaging and easily understandable presentation. Dr. Tallamy and the other presenters opened my mind and put a hopeful smile on my face. Can our lawns and gardens really make a difference in preserving  the natural world? Their answer was an emphatic “Yes!” And I’m already envisioning a transformation outside my front door!

Why Bother with Native Plants, Anyway?

Native snakeroot that appeared when I began pulling non-native garlic mustard from our “green desert” woods.

Dr. Tallamy began by pointing out that it isn’t really a matter of native vs. non-native. Plants from other parts of the world aren’t “bad,” but as Lois B. Robbins, author of Lawn Wars, puts it “A plant that is well-behaved in its hometown will often lose its inhibitions in another locale and trash the place.” Alien plants can be aggressive in a new environment, crowding out native plants since the restraints present in their native lands are not there to stop them. They can require more watering and fertilizing because they aren’t used to foreign soil. And as you’ll see below, they are not able to feed most of our wildlife. The value of native plants is that they are perfectly suited to their habitat; they have evolved over millions of years to survive in their home environment.

As I discussed in an earlier blog, plants pass along the sun’s energy (and the earth’s nutrients and water) to all the creatures around them, humans included. Some are eaten both by us and by the other creatures in our local habitat. And some in each generation successfully reproduce, providing food for a next generation. But for that process to continue functioning, we specifically need… brace yourself… more insects!

Is It Possible to Be Welcoming to Insects???

Red Milkweed Beetle (Tetraopes melanurus ) on a Common Milkweed leaf.

We’ve all grown up in a world where insects are referred to as “pests” and routinely swatted, sprayed with deadly chemicals or fried in “bug zappers.” But the famous biologist E.O.Wilson calls them “The Little Things that Run the World.” Why? We first think of them as important for pollination, and they are. They pollinate 80% of all plants and 90% of all flowering plants. Without insects, most plants can’t reproduce.

Native Bumblebee on a wild sunflower

But there’s more to insects than pollination. Insects form the next ring out from plants in nature’s food web. They eat plants and when eaten themselves, they pass along the sun’s energy to fish, amphibians, reptiles, and of course, birds. According to Dr. Tallamy, insects and spiders “are essential dietary components for 96 percent of North American terrestrial bird species.” They eat them all year, even in winter, seeking out frozen or hibernating insects (or their eggs and larvae) for the protein they need to stay warm. They also need insects in order to raise their young in the spring and summer.

A male Yellow Warbler holds a bright green caterpillar at Bear Creek

Insect caterpillars are birds’ favorite food for offspring. Caterpillars, the larval stage of insects, pass along the most energy from plants to other animals. Bird feed them to their nestlings because they’re soft for tiny throats. Plus, they’re loaded with both fat and protein for little birds, and caterpillars are large. One fat caterpillar is easier for an adult bird to pluck up and ferry back to the nest than gathering up and delivering hundreds of tiny aphids, for instance. By the way, insects are 25% of a Red Fox’s diet and 23% of a bear’s. So mammals (including in many cultures, humans!) eat them as well.

So, How Does the Importance of Insects Relate to Native Plants?

It turns out that insects vastly prefer the plants with which they evolved. In fact, research shows that 90% of insects are specialists; they will only eat or lay their eggs on certain native plants. The Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus) is, of course, an extreme example. Out of the 2,137 genera of plants in North America, the Monarch’s caterpillar can eat exactly one – the milkweeds (genus Asclepias).

A Monarch caterpillar eating Butterfly Milkweed buds

The very reason butterflies and hundreds of thousands of birds go to the trouble of migrating north is the huge pulse of food produced each spring by our native plants and the insects that feed on them. Butterflies and other insects may lay their eggs on non-native leaves and stems if that’s all that is available, but once the caterpillars hatch, they often can’t eat them or can’t get enough nutrition to finish developing into reproductive adults. With fewer caterpillars, 90% of  birds have less to eat – and on it goes throughout the food web.

Dr. Tallamy compared native trees and non-native trees on his property and at the Holden Arboretum in Kirtland, Ohio where he does his research. He marked out areas of native and non-native plants and recorded  the number of caterpillars found on them over a set period of time. Here are results:

  • Native Oak – 419 caterpillars from 19 species
  • Native Wild Cherry – 239 caterpillars from 14 species
  • Non-native and invasive Callery/Bradford Pear – 1 caterpillar (a common tree in subdivisions and office parks)
  • Non-native Burning Bush – 4 caterpillars from 1 species
A Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus) emerging from nest building with wood shavings on its beak.

Dr. Tallamy shared the results of a study on Carolina Chickadees (Poecile carolinensis),  which need 6,000 to 9,000 caterpillars in a season to rear one clutch of fledglings! His student, Desirée Narango, compared chickadee breeding success in home landscapes with native plants vs. landscapes filled with non-natives.

The results were pretty dismal for lawns like mine. Non-native areas, like most of my current yard (and maybe yours):

  • produced 75% fewer caterpillars
  • were 65% less likely to have breeding chickadees
  • the nests contained 1.5 fewer eggs
  • the nestlings were 29% less likely to survive (not enough food!)
  • nests produced 1.2 fewer fledglings
  • the maturation of nestlings was slower by 1.5 days

Have a look at Just a few of the many species I’ve seen on one of our common native wildflower, Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa). (Use pause button for captions.)

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Have a look in your yard this summer. At the end of the summer, if I bother to look, I’ll find many more signs of insect munching on the big, leafy Black Oaks (Quercus velutina) in our front yard, for instance, than I will on our non-native Japanese Maples (Acer palmatum) or invasive Black Locust trees (Robinia pseudoacacia).

“No holes, no chewed leaves, no damage – sounds good to me!” you might be thinking. After all, that’s one reason that you and I have always liked non-native species and why nurseries like to sell them! If you want plants that are just decorative, that might work for you, but not for the nature around you. But step back a few paces and the chewed leaves of natives are hardly noticeable. I’m hoping my yard can be beautiful while also being more productive, filled with life and energy, more a working part of the natural world.

Some Questions You Might Be Asking Yourself

Dr. Tallamy respectfully described some of the questions and challenges other scientists have raised about  native plants and their importance. Here’s what his research and the research of others have shown that answered their concerns and maybe yours.

  • But I’ve seen birds and butterflies feeding on non-native plants! Ten percent of insects are generalists who can eat a wide variety of plants, but even their populations are lower on non-native plants than on natives. Adult butterflies and other native insects can often sip nectar or spread pollen from non-native flowers, thereby helping them take over fields! But unfortunately their caterpillars cannot grow to adults by eating non-native plants. As a result, insects in landscapes with few native plants  don’t reproduce effectively, their numbers decline, and the loss is felt throughout the food web.
Both the swallowtail and Monarch can feed on non-native bull thistle, but their caterpillars can’t survive on their rough, spiky leaves and stems.

Birds will also feed on non-native plants, but they often can’t get the nutrition they need.  For example, our native plants produce berries in the summer that have low fat and high sugar content, which is great for fledgling birds. In the fall, native berries are high in protein which is just what migrating birds and birds that spend the winter require. Non-native berries in the fall and winter are very low in fat and high in sugar, which won’t sustain birds on migration or in cold weather.

  • Isn’t this just some romantic notion about returning to an imagined pre-European settlement, pristine world – or even worse, a kind of horticultural prejudice against alien plants? Again, the issue isn’t good plants or bad plants.  If we want to restore habitat, we need plants that feed our local food web, that provide insects for food, and that provide shelter and nest sites for birds and other local wildlife. Native plants are just much more efficient and productive at doing that than non-native plants.
  • When does a non-native plant become native?  How long does it have to be here?  If non-natives acted in the food web like natives, we wouldn’t care how long it had been here. But they just don’t,  because insects don’t adapt to new foods quickly. The invasive, non-native grass Phragmites (Phragmites australis subspecies australis) feeds 170 plant-eating insects in its native Europe. But it’s been in North America for 300 years and only feeds 5 insect species here. Eucalyptus trees (genus Eucalyptus) feed 48 species in their native Australia. They’ve been in North America for a 100 years and feed only one!
  • How about planting cultivars of native trees bred for special colors or flowers, for example?  In general, when nursery-developed cultivars of native trees are planted, caterpillar abundance drops 65%.  Bees too are very particular about flower shape. When native flowers or trees are bred for double flowers instead of single ones, it can have a big impact on pollinators. Or if the leaf color is changed to red or purple instead of green, insect numbers drop. Changing to variegated leaves, changing height or berry size, however, may not be a problem.
  • Aren’t There Still Plenty of Native Insects in Wild Areas if Not Our Yards? Well, no, in fact, there aren’t. Here in the Midwest, 50% of our native bees have disappeared from their historic ranges in the last century.  Four bumblebee species declined 96% in the last 20 years.  25% of our bumblebees are already at risk for extinction.  50% of our mid- western native bee species have disappeared in the last 100 years. Globally, there’s been a 45% decline in insects since 1975 – almost half of the insects in the world gone in about 45 years! Germany has experienced a 79% decrease in insects! (On the bright side, Amsterdam has seen a 45% increase in bee populations since developing a policy of using native plants throughout the city.)

Many natural areas in our region (and yours too, probably) are heavily infested with aggressive non-native plants just like the woods on my property. That’s why our township stewardship program is always working to eliminate aggressive non-native plants and restore abandoned fields and forests to a healthy, diverse assortment of native plants. Many non-native plants have historically been promoted by nurseries and landscapers and then escaped into the wild. The seed of others arrived here in livestock feed or grazing grasses.

Some of you older readers may remember moths dancing in the headlights when your parents drove the car at night. Some people affixed bug screens to the fronts of cars to prevent insects from smashing regularly into the grill, hood or windshield. But no more. Unfortunately, every generation thinks the number of insects around them is “normal” when it’s actually been steadily declining for decades.

Major Causes of Insect Decline

We usually think of insecticides first when we hear about the decline in bee, butterfly or other insect populations – and they do have a powerful effect. And climate change is no doubt taking a toll as well.

But the fact is that we just don’t have enough natural areas full of native plants left on our planet to feed insects and hence other wildlife. Researchers estimate that half of the arable land on earth is now covered by agriculture or ranching. Corn and soy bean seeds, the most common agricultural plants in America these days, are often treated with insecticides which are designed to kill some insects. These plants are also wind-pollinated and so don’t provide nectar or pollen for insects.We have 770 million acres of rangeland in the US, an area 12 times larger than the state of Michigan! Ranchers are just now being encouraged to integrate native grasses after decades of growing largely non-native grasses. And our non-native lawns are actually the largest irrigated “crop” in the United States.

Commercial areas are built on former grasslands and prairies, then covered with asphalt. The Denver airport alone, for example, covers an area the size of Manhattan in asphalt. We have built housing in field after field, forest after forest and covered millions of miles in roads. That’s where we home owners come in…

Property Owners Can Now Play a Crucial Role in Restoring Natural Habitat

Eastern Prairie at Charles Ilsley Park on July 12, 2018

Non-native plants hold the upper hand in most natural areas that are not managed carefully. Luckily, our township’s stewardship program here is restoring native habitat in our parks every day. Former farm fields choked with non-native shrubs and plants are being restored to diverse and beautiful prairies like the one above, full of the color and insect hum of native plant communities. And we can do the same on a smaller scale right out our front doors.

Property owners –  home owners, businesses or towns –  are now our best hope for restoring native habitat for the benefit of wildlife and ultimately for ourselves as well. Currently, our yards are largely “green deserts” in the sense that they just don’t provide enough food, protection or nesting sites to support the food web and create healthy habitat for wildlife. At most American homes, like mine,  the lawn is a stretch of  non-native turf grass (the standard lawn grasses) and the gardens are still largely filled with non-native trees, bushes and flowers.

So what do you think? Can we declare a ceasefire with more of our insects? After all, only about 1% of all insects are even interested in us – and proper clothing, screens, and repellent can keep most of them at bay. Can we begin to add beautiful native plants to our non-native gardens, gradually turning them into beautiful habitats that flutter and hum with life? Perhaps some of us will even be adventurous enough to replace our sod carpets with a well-maintained variety of native grasses or interesting green sedges. Perhaps we can ask more companies and towns to install native plant landscapes. I’m so hopeful that we’ll see a new garden ethic, a renaissance of native plants, come to fruition in my lifetime. The visionary conservationist John Muir made the best case for preserving our native habitats:

“When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”

Suggestions and Resources for Introducing Native Plants to Your Yard and/or Garden

  1. Get a copy of Bringing Nature Home by Douglas W. Tallamy. The whole book is great. Chapters 8-12 are specifically targeted toward getting started with native plants in your lawn or garden.
  2. Look for native plants sales in your community.  This year the Oakland Township Parks and Recreation Commission sponsored a sale, for instance (orders are already in for this year). I’m aware also of yearly native plants sales in our area: North Oakland Headwaters Land Conservancy hosts a sale in Clarkston, and Cranbrook sells plants rescued from developments. If you look, you’ll find some near you if you live further afield.
  3. The best native plant sources provide genotypes from your state or local area. Here is a lists of plant suppliers in southern Michigan that we know. (Let us know if we missed any!)
    • Hidden Savanna Nursery near Kalamazoo grows Michigan native wildflowers, grasses, shrubs and trees sold in containers and plugs. Specializing in Southwest Michigan genotypes. They have several retail sale dates on weekends in spring and late summer.
    • Wildtype in Mason, Michigan. Largely a wholesaler but have three weekends in May and one in August for those of us buying retail and in smaller quantities. The retail catalog has helpful information about each plant.
    • Michigan Wildflower Farm near Portland, MI grows Michigan native wildflower and grass seed, and provides design, consultation, installation, and management.
    • Native Connections near Three Rivers, MI grows Michigan genotype wildflower and grass seed, design, consultation, installation, and management.
    • Go Grow Plant Natives near Charlotte, MI is a native plant nursery specializing in Michigan native shrubs,  trees, and wildflowers.
    • Designs By Nature, LLC. near Laingsburg, MI. A native plant nursery and native landscape consulting company. 517.230.2923, designsbynature@hotmail.com
    • The Native Plant Nursery in Ann Arbor grows only local native plant species from Michigan seed sources and produces a diverse selection of native perennials and a few species of native trees and shrubs. Often has a booth at the Ann Arbor farmer’s market.
    • She Is Growing Wild in Ada, MI grows and sells over 80 Michigan native species.  616.450.7407,  sheisgrowingwild@gmail.com.
    • DISCLAIMER: Oakland Township Parks & Recreation does not endorse or promote any business entity which produces or markets native plants or seeds, or which provides landscape design or installation services. The list of vendors is provided for informational purposes only. Information above is from the websites of the Michigan Native Plant Producers Association, River City WildOnes, and the Native Plant Guild. Links to websites included when available, otherwise phone numbers and email addresses.
  4. Beware of buying any plants or seeds treated with insecticides, specifically neonicitinoids, as they are harmful to insects despite what the label says about it being approved for human health. Also avoid seed mixes that say something very general like “prairie seeds.” You may get a glorious bloom the first year, but many of the plants are not local and could introduce invasive plants that you and your neighbors will battle later on.
  5. Get comfortable with bees and other pollinators as well as insects and their valuable caterpillars on your property. Dr. Tallamy made 400 of us laugh when he suggested “a ten step process. Step back 10 steps and you won’t notice the caterpillars!”
  6. Many native plants don’t need or like fertilizers or other soil amendments. Some do better without them. Some will take off too enthusiastically and try to take over your garden. Learn a bit ahead of time about which ones re-seed avidly and which tend to stay put. Be prepared to pull some out if they get too rambunctious.
  7. Start small and consider the neighbors. Native gardens can function as an advertisement to your neighborhood of the benefits of native gardening. Keep the edges trimmed or even decoratively fenced for a tidy look. Plant informally or formally; native plants need communities of other plants, but that can include massing colors and other popular approaches to garden design.
  8. Create mowed paths through your yard if you decide to try a native lawn, which is a larger undertaking. You want a native lawn to look tended and purposeful, not neglected.
  9. Be patient. Remember that native prairie plants here in Michigan, for example, need deep roots to handle drought. It can take up to 3 years for your new plants to reach full bloom. Learn which plants work in your soil ahead of time but also be prepared to switch things out that don’t work, if necessary.
  10. Take it one step at a time and have fun!