Category Archives: Education

Cranberry Lake Park: Here Come the Migrators, There Go the Hibernators

 

New England Asters against a background of goldenrod at Cranberry Lake Park

Birds and butterflies flock to Cranberry Lake Park year ’round. The wide range of habitats there – a lake, wooded wetlands, huge meadows and acres of forest – provide food and shelter during the  summer for a wide range of different species. And migrators make it a regular stop-over in the spring and fall, this autumn being no exception.

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

Last week, little warblers flitted from limb to limb, keeping the birding group busy trying to spot them all by eye or ear. And in the meadows, the special “super-generation” Monarchs that hatched in late summer sipped from and floated above the asters and goldenrods before beginning their long migration to their wintering grounds in Mexico.

Migrating Birds Ride In, While Local Fledglings Bulk Up

A Sky Full of Migrating Broadwing Hawks at the Hawk Fest in Canada, 2018

When a north wind blows in the dark of night, getting out to the meadows in the morning can be a rewarding experience. Warblers and other migrators from farther north fly and float in using those winds to support them. As migration begins, being partially carried by the wind on a dark night saves energy and also avoids hawks and other predators that fly in the sunlight.

The birding group heard and saw the first flush of these seasonal nomads on their September visit to Cranberry Lake Park. Our first encounter was with a busy Black-and-White Warbler tracking up, down and around tree trunks on the Hickory Lane that runs down the western edge of the park. A tiny bird moving fast in dense shade meant that none of the birders got a decent photo. But since these beautifully patterned warblers wear the same plumage fall or spring, here’s a springtime shot when foliage was less of a problem!

The Black-and-white Warbler moves around branches much like a nuthatch.

Unfortunately, I missed most of the warblers on the Cranberry Lake Park bird walk by suddenly feeling ill. So fellow birder and fine photographer Joan Bonin was kind enough to share a few of her photos with me! Thank you, Joan! The group spotted a Magnolia Warbler (Setophagia magnolia) in its fall plumage, which as you’ll see in my photo on the right below is a lot different from its spring courting colors! It’s headed for the Bahamas like the Black-and-White. I hope the devastating hurricane there doesn’t mean trouble for them. Best of luck, little birds!  [Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.]

Joan got a shot of a Black-throated Green Warbler (Setophaga virens) which is also headed to the Bahamas. It too wears less flashy plumage in the non-breeding season.

Ben caught sight of a  Chestnut-sided Warbler (Setophaga pensylvanica). Using his description and The Warbler Guide by Tom Stephenson and Scott Whittle, I think it probably was either a female in fall plumage or a first year male or female, because it had a clear breast with no chestnut streaks on its side. Since no one got a photo, I found one from a  generous photographer who uses the name “thejasperpatch” at the iNaturalist.org website. Thank you!

A female or first year Chestnut-sided Warbler by iNaturalist photographer thejasperpatch (CC BY-NC)

The male Chestnut-sided is one of my favorites because of its varied color and pattern. These tiny birds are headed for Central or South America to hang out with a flock they forage with every year – much like human friends who meet up in Florida each winter! Here’s my photo of a male prepared to charm the ladies in his spring plumage.

The Chestnut-sided Warbler spends each winter with the same group of tropical birds in Central or northern South America .

Ben also heard the slightly rough-edged,  two or three note song of the Yellow-throated Vireo (Vireo flavifrons), but the birders could never spot it in the thick foliage. Vireos often accompany warblers on migration. This one was probably planning to spend the winter in the Bahamas too, though they also winter in Cuba. The yellow “spectacles” are one of its distinguishing features. Here’s a photo by fine photographer BJ Stacey at iNaturalist.org .

A Yellow-throated Vireo by BJ Stacy at iNaturalist.org (CC BY-NC).

Fledglings need a bit more sustenance before heading south. Before I departed on birding day, I got a quick photo of a  juvenile Eastern Towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus). It jumped excitedly from branch to branch, waiting for its parent, who periodically flew in to quickly stuff food in its beak. According to the Stokes Guide to Bird Behavior (Vol. 2), adult Towhees feed their fledglings for about a month after they leave the nest. At first the young stay in dense foliage, then gradually wait in more exposed places like the one in the photo below. Shortly, this young one will join with other juvenile Towhees to eat and hang out together like any adolescent. Fortunately, understanding adult towhees will allow them to cross their territories to do so.

A juvenile Towhee waited anxiously for its parent to bring food.

A week earlier in the same area, my husband and I had heard a male Towhee making his territorial “wheeet” call. When we spotted him, he gave us a sharp warning glance. I wondered at the time if his young were nearby. Maybe that alert male was the hard-working parent feeding the youngster that we birders saw a week later. I’d like to think so.

The Towhee went on alert once he spotted us.

On a cool, wet morning, a fledgling House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) perched on its own, looking out across a meadow. Other young wrens called to one another farther along the trail, so this one was probably waiting for an adult occupied with feeding its siblings. Before they migrate, wrens become quiet and remain hidden in the greenery frequently where they winter in the southern Gulf states and Florida. Southerners miss out on the male’s glorious spring song. Aren’t we the lucky ones?

A Wren fledgling appeared to be out on its own one cool wet morning but it’s likely that its parent was nearby, feeding its siblings.

Joan Bonin also snagged a photo of a  Broad-winged Hawk (Buteo platypterus) who was probably headed south toward the tip of Florida or Cuba. In autumn, huge “kettles” of these birds with thousands of individuals make their way south together. (See photo of a “kettle” at the top of this section.) Two birder friends and I saw a huge circling flock last year at the Hawk Fest in Amherstburg, Ontario, though this year the festival was canceled at the last minute  by a  storm severe enough to bring down trees. All this severe weather is a serious threat to migrating birds!

A Broad-winged Hawk flew over the Cranberry Lake birders, heading toward the tip of Florida and Cuba.

Monarchs Everywhere on a Cool, Autumn Morning!

The migration of the “super-generation” Monarchs is well underway. These heroes of the insect world – the last generation of Monarchs to hatch here in the upper Midwest and Northeast  – will live for 8 months, instead of the 5-7 weeks of all other Monarchs. They make the entire two-month journey of 3,000 miles to Mexico, spend the winter, and then fly back north to mate. There they lay the eggs for the first of the 4 to 5 generations of short-lived Monarchs who will successively produce their progeny, eventually ending this relay in Michigan each spring.

A Monarch, its proboscis ready for its next sip, flies above the Showy Goldenrod.

Alone at the park on a cool, wet morning, I saw twenty-one Monarchs in my first ten minutes! I stopped counting, took a few photos and then just enjoyed the sight of them slipping up out of wet greenery where they’d spent the night. They shivered upward, shedding dew, looking like vivid autumn leaves reversing their descent. It seemed that with every step I took, more of them rose from the moist meadow. A peaceful, quite magical sight. Here’s a short slideshow of just a few of them on the plants on which they’d rested the night before.

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Monarchs were feeding close together as in this photo with two Monarchs in the foreground and one that’s just an orange blur in the background. Aren’t they just spectacular in their golden setting? What beautiful, delicate and surprisingly tough long distance athletes they are!

Two Monarchs feeding close together on Showy Goldenrod, and one in the distance, an orange blur.

Other Wings Over the Meadows

The dragonflies and their slimmer relatives, the damselflies are on the wing in late summer and early autumn, too. In August, we saw a dragonfly that was new to me, the Slaty Skimmer (Libellula incesta), with a dark blue body and black head. It was above the lake trail which is lined with wooded wetlands, this dragonfly’s favorite habitat, according to the Odonata Central website. Ben got the best photo of it.

This Slaty Skimmer perched in the open, probably trying to attract a mate.

Meadowhawk dragonflies (genus Sympetrum) mate and lay eggs in July and August so they are plentiful right now. Determining a specific species in this genus is not possible unless you’re an expert with one in hand. But the males are almost always red and females and juveniles are usually yellowish brown or black and many have chevrons on their abdomens.

I was fortunate to get an identification on one Meadowhawk I saw because it had some distinctive features like yellow legs, a generally unmarked thorax and a scoop-like spatulate end to its abdomen. This is likely a female Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinum) as identified by people more experienced that I on the “Odonata of the Eastern United States” Facebook page.

An Autumn Meadowhawk rests in the sunlight on a September morning.

According to the Minnesota Dragonfly Society website, “Some dragonflies…point their wings forward and down in order to reduce exposure to sunlight and, perhaps, to reflect light and heat away from their bodies.” On really hot days, they’ll point the tip of their abdomen straight up toward the sky to have as little exposure to the sun as possible. Getting warm or cooling down take some acrobatics from these cold-blooded creatures!

Damselflies, another member of the order Odonata, are always busy in the summer and early fall at Cranberry. Unlike dragonflies who generally rest with their wings spread outward, most damselflies rest with their wings closed.  One family of damselfies, the Spreadwings (family Lestidae), cling to plants with their wings just slightly spread. This Spotted Spreadwing (Lestes congener) at Cranberry Lake Park in September shows this common wing position for spreadwings. How about those eyeballs!

I love the big, blue eyes on this Spotted Spreadwing damselfly!

The female Slender Spreadwing (Lestes rectangularis) can almost disappear with its clear wings and its unusually long, gray-to-black body, especially since it loves the shade.

Slender Spreadwings love the shade and that’s where I found this one.

Now admittedly, the Tussock Moth’s Caterpillar (Euchaetes egele) isn’t fluttering just now, but it plans to! Of course, it will need to chew on quite a lot of Milkweed before it builds its cocoon and waits until spring to transform. The adult moth’s chunky yellow body lined with black dots  is hidden under a pair of subtly elegant beige wings. I’m still on the hunt for the moth (which you can see at this link), but for now, I’m enjoying the floppy, mop-head look of the black and orange caterpillar.

Milkweed Tussock Moth caterpillars will soon spin a cocoon where they’ll spend the winter until they emerge with wings in the spring.

 

Amphibians Still Visible, but…Hibernation Awaits!

A small Green Frog (Rana clamitans) at the edge of Cranberry Lake in September will soon settle on the muddy bottom and breathe through its skin throughout the winter.

In August, I saw a lot of tiny amphibians near Cranberry Lake! The young Leopard Frog  (Rana pipiens) my husband I saw will shortly be heading for the bottom of the lake to spend the winter just as the Green Frog above does – on top of mud on the lake bottom, breathing slowly through its skin.

The Leopard Frog has been in decline since the 1980’s but can be see in several of our parks.

When the temperature drops, the tiny Wood Frog (Rana sylvatica) that Ben picked up on the bird walk will travel upland to hibernate inside a log or under leaves. According to National Geographic’s website, once its body starts to freeze, its liver produces a kind of internal “anti-freeze,” a very sugary glucose solution which is then packed into the cells so they don’t collapse, like human cells do when frozen. The little frog will survive if no more than 67% of its body freezes. Its brain activity stops, its heart stops and it’s frozen solid! But in spring, it thaws and hops away! It can even tolerate our Michigan freeze-thaw-freeze cycles! By the first frost, this little one will be bigger and ready for the big adventure!

This tiny Wood Frog will freeze solid during hibernation this winter and thaw in the spring!

So many Eastern American Toads (Anaxyrus americanus) were springing from under our feet in August that we had to be cautious not to step on them! They often hatch simultaneously and may stay together for some time afterward. Once cold weather sets in, they can dig a hole up to 3 feet deep with their hind legs and essentially back into the hole, the dirt falling in to cover them as they get deeper. Then their metabolism slows as it does for all hibernators and they remain in torpor for the winter.

Eastern American Toads often return to their natal ponds year after year.

The tiny Gray Tree Frog (Hyla versicolor) is bright green when it’s young  (see left below),  but becomes gray, brown or green, usually with a black pattern, when it matures (right below). Though the mating season is over for them now, the males are singing in September anyway, especially when it rains. We hear one singing from an unused hood vent outside our kitchen window! Like the wood frog, it can survive when its body freezes, thaw out in the spring, and be just fine.

Fall Has a Special Kind of Excitement, Doesn’t It?

A Sheet Spider’s web between Showy Goldenrod at Cranberry Lake Park

We often think of the fall as brilliantly colored falling leaves – and of course, that’s coming. But in this early part of fall, as days occasionally turn crisp and nights get chilly, so much more is going on!

Spider webs bejeweled in dew shine in the morning sun as spiders prepare to snag more insects before cold weather begins.  Bright yellow goldenrods are now complemented by purple flowers, like New England Aster. Acorns and hickory nuts tumble to the ground and are quickly stored away by squirrels and chipmunks. Large hatches of tiny, late season Red-legged Grasshoppers spring from the grass below our feet as we hike the trails. They must hurry to grow, mate and lay eggs before the ground hardens.

Some birds disappear for a while to change into their winter colors. Others relinquish the territorial fierceness of breeding season to gather in huge flocks, flying in formation or whirling high overhead. Small ones fly singly through the dark, only stopping to eat and rest, before moving on.

And we humans stock our larders with summer produce – berries in the freezer, peaches in bottles, apples at the fruit stand. We repair a leak in the roof, wash the dust off the storm doors, pull jackets and sweaters from the backs of closets – or make arrangements to pack up and migrate south with the birds. All of us animals, human and otherwise, know that as day and night equal out at the equinox, preparations must be made! And so it begins….

THIS WEEK IN STEWARDSHIP: Wetland Grass Identification is Fun!

While the crew was hard at work, one of the members, Grant, attended a wetland grass identification workshop through Michigan Wetlands Association. Dr. Tony Reznicek from the University of Michigan taught the class – he is widely considered a sedge expert (and a good teacher!), so it was quite a treat to learn from him. Over the two days of the workshop the group visited several wetland habitats to examine the wetland grasses occurring there. The class members were from different parts of the state, different organizations, and different stages in their careers, which made the workshop a great place to learn.

The first day the class visited a fen wetland where they identified a rich diversity of grasses. At this particular fen they found little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), blue-joint grass (Calamagrostis canadensis), marsh wild-timothy (Muhlenbergia glomerata), and Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans).

20190906_BakertownFen
At the Bakertown Fen the class found little bluestem, bluejoint grass, and Indian grass. Too bad that wall of glossy buckthorn is creeping in!

The next stop that day was a bog, where they saw a different set of grasses that grow in a bog compared to a fen. At this bog some of the highlight species were cotton grass (Eriphorum virginicum) and wool grass (Scripus cyperinus), as well as other species of plants like poison sumac (Toxicodendron vernix).

20190906_BuchananBogAKAMudLake
Entering the Buchanan Bog. Cotton grass (Eriophorum virginicum) and wool grass (Scirpus cyperinus) were highlights here, while avoiding poison sumac!

The final stop for the day was on the St. Joseph river, where they not only found an abundance of wetland grasses, but also the biggest ragweed (Ambrosia) field anyone in the class had ever seen!

20190906_JasperDairyRdPark_Ragweed
Ahhhh-choo! The biggest giant ragweed patch ever 😦

The second day started at Warren Dunes State Park where the class got to see the many different grass species found in forested wetlands. During this stop, they saw rice cutgrass (Leersia oryzoides), deer tongue (Dicanthelium clandestinum), wood reed (Cinna arundinecea), and fox grape (Vitis labrusca, a rare viney species).

Then the group hiked through the dunes to an interdunal wetland, where one of the smallest bladderwort species in Michigan lives (Utricularia subulata), as well as Lindheimer panic grass (Dichanthelium lindheimeri), and Tickle grass (Agrostis hyemalis).

20190906_WarrenDunes_InterdunalWetland
Checking out the interdunal wetlands at Warren Dunes State Park

The final stop for the workshop was one of the best tamarack fens in Michigan. At this spot we saw many tamarack trees (Larix laricina). This stop has many species we had previous seen at different stops like Big blue-stem (Andropogon gerardii), Marsh wild-timothy (Muhlenbergia glomerata), and Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans).

20190906_PhragmitesAtParkInNiles
Unfortunately many of our wetlands are being degraded by invasive species like invasive Phragmites. Dr. Reznicek is holding a stem of this large wetland grass here.

Through this workshop, Grant got hands-on experience with many species of grasses. He also got to practice his grass ID skills – grasses can be some of the most difficult plants to identify! We continually improve our land stewardship skills so that we care for the natural areas in Oakland Township’s parks.

Photos of the Week: Expanding Nature’s Color Palette at Charles Ilsley Park

Cardinal Flower (aka Red Lobelia) and Great Blue Lobelia in a moist swale at Charles Ilsley Park

In the previous post, I collected all the gold and black vividness of August at Charles Ilsley Park – in blossoms, birds and butterflies.

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

But of course, Ilsley in August had lots of other hues. Nature seems incapable of limiting itself to just two colors in any season. So let’s see some of the other colorful brushstrokes from nature’s palette.

 

Stewardship Pays Off in Shades of Lavender in the Central Meadow

Lavender flowers emerged in the central meadow when a small wetland area was restored.

In the last few years, vernal pools have formed in the center of Charles Ilsley Park and a stream suddenly appeared crossing a trail on the east side of the central meadow. Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township Stewardship Manager, realized that a farmer had once laid tile to drain those ponds. By pulling out some of the  broken tiles, Ben restored a wetland area where the water can now seep underground instead of across the trail. As a result, a beautiful variety of lavender wetland flowers now bob and sway above the grass stems there.  Tall, erect Blue Vervain (Verbena hastata) branches into tapering spikes covered with tiny flowers frequented by many kinds of bees.  The smaller,  lavender Monkey Flower (Mimulus ringens) was a delightful new wildflower for me. These seeds were part of the wetland seed mix that were planted as part of the restoration process. After so many years of farming,  very few native species remained, so stewardship staff designed a diverse wetland mix to help these areas recover. And nearby where dry, prairie soil begins again, a balding Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa) left a beautiful pattern as it shed its petals. [Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.]

Birds and a Jazzy Insect Add Blue to the Ilsley Palette

A couple of blue birds made their contribution to the color scheme. A juvenile Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis) with just a few of its azure feathers showing, hid deep within the  the leaves of a giant oak along the entrance path. My photo attempt was hopeless. But a few days later, another small bluebird perched in an oak in my front yard. In the photo below, it seems to be studying the ground just before it swooped down and picked up a caterpillar. Well done, little bluebird!  A tiny Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher (Polioptila caerulea) popped in and out of the shrubbery along the edge of the meadow. Even adults of this species are only 4-5 inches long and weigh 1-2 ounces! This little flycatcher twitches its white edged tail to stir up insects when surrounded by plants, though as you can see below, it probes bark for insects and their eggs as well.

A young Eastern Bluebird spotted and later caught a caterpillar below.
Gnatcatchers search tree bark for any insect or spider.
A Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher twitches its tail to scare up insects, but gnats actually don’t make up much of its diet.

If you see a large dragonfly helicoptering over the flower tops, it’s probably a Darner (Aeshnidae family. They are the largest dragonflies in North America, with the fastest flight and the keenest eyesight. The female has a needle-like ovipositor at the end of her abdomen so that she can slit open stalks and insert her eggs – hence, the name “darner.”  (My husband remembers relatives calling them “sewing beetles!”) They spend most of their time in the air on their powerful wings, so I was glad  to find this Green-striped Darner (Aeshna verticalis) resting for a moment on some dried Curly Dock (Rumex crispus). What an elaborate color scheme and pattern on this big beautiful insect!

The Green-Striped Darner’s compound eyes are so large that they almost touch. So it has great eyesight!

Stewardship brings Red, White and Blue to the Golden Western Meadow

Ben noticed a moist swale in the western meadow as he was planning for the prairie planting and spread some wildflower seed from plants that love “wet feet.” What a lovely treat to see Cardinal Flower/Red Lobelia (Lobelia cardinalis), white Swamp Betony (Pedicularis lanceolata) and Great Blue Lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica) thriving within a low spot in a dry, sunny meadow! Charles Ilsley Park introduced me to a second new wildflower when I saw these Swamp Betony for the first time in August.

One of our eagle-eyed birders took a photo of a third new flower to add to my “life list,” Dotted Mint/Horse Mint (Monarda punctata). This Monarda, in the same genus as our lavender Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa),  has successive whorls of creamy white  blossoms dotted in dark purple growing above one another along its stem. Ben had included this flower in the seed mix when this meadow was cleared and planted as part of prairie restoration. I hope we see more of it! Thanks to Vinnie Morganti for loaning me her photo of this interesting tri-level  flower.

A three-story bloom on these lovely Dotted/Horse Mint stems!

Nature Loves Earth Tones

Of course, browns and greens are always the backdrop of nature’s palette. A soft brown fledgling with a striped breast played peek-a-boo with me through some shrubs one afternoon. I could hear its begging chirp from beyond the plants, but it took a while before it really peeked out into the open. Can you spot its tiny head near the center of this photo? (You might need to click on this photo to get a better look.)

A tiny brown bird poked its head in and out of the greenery at Ilsley.

Finally, it came out for more than a split second so I could snap a photo. I checked its identification with local birding expert, Ruth Glass. I proposed that it was a young House Finch (Haemorhous mexicanus) and she  agreed it was. These little birds drive their parents nuts with begging constantly for hours around our feeder so I thought I recognized that insistent chirp!

A fledgling House Finch finally stops in the open for more than a few seconds.

A group of little brown House Wrens ((Troglodytes aedon) chattered away in an oak along the treeline, darting here and there among the branches. At last, one came out to look around.

A fledgling House Wren peers down from a bush after several minutes of begging calls.

Almost immediately an adult wren appeared to scold me for being there. I snapped a quick photo and departed, so as not to incur more wrath from an annoyed parent!

An adult Wren arrived on the scene and asked me to go away in no uncertain terms! Such a scold!

As fall arrives, nuts and seeds add more rich brown shades and lovely greens. The lime green nuts of  Walnut Trees (Juglans nigra) hang like tennis balls from limbs around the park and the Black Oaks sport clusters of bright green acorns with patterned brown beanies.

My candidate for this year’s most beautiful brown, though, are the  teardrop-shaped, russet seeds of the Foxglove Beardtongue/Penstemon (Penstemon digitalis). In mid-summer, this native wildflower stands tall, while sprouting graceful white blossoms. Its seeds and dark red stems now are almost as visually appealing as its flowers!

Harvesting the Last of Summer Colors

A wonderfully large and mysterious wetland I saw at Charles Ilsley Park for the first time in August

Isn’t that wetland above a lovely harmony of greens?  This wetland extends a long way on the north side of the far west trail that leads to the Wynstone subdivision west of the park. This one is  large, mysterious and full of life as most wetlands are. I just “discovered” it after many walks in Ilsley and felt like a visitor to an alien world.

I listened to the raucous begging of a Green Heron fledgling down in the bushes ner the water and caught a glimpse of an adult stuffing food into the youngster’s bill. Just a glimpse, no photo – but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to take in all the green-ness to remember on a black-and-white winter day.

Summer is clearly waning, now. The butterflies look tattered and worn. The summer wildflowers are brown and seeding. But we have lots to look forward to. The meadows now brimming with goldenrods will soon be splashed with purple asters. The migrating birds, wearing more sedate winter colors, and the last of the “super generation” Monarchs will be riding north winds toward warmer climes. Leaves will reveal the dramatic colors they’ve hidden under all that chlorophyll since they “greened up” in the spring. So maybe, like wise stewards, we should store up as much color as we can while the supply is plentiful. We may need the memory of it on a January day.

Charles Isley Park: Dressed in the Gold and Black of Late Summer

Do me a favor, would you? Imagine standing in front of a huge meadow full of tall grass and wildflowers dancing in a soft breeze. You can hear crickets and cicadas singing in the deep grass. Now turn your computer’s volume to about half and click on the arrow in the image below. (You’ll hear a little of the wind in the microphone.)

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

There! That’s a bit of what it’s been like at Charles Ilsley Park in the last few glorious weeks of August.  Goldfinches sing as they swoop in their roller coaster flights across the fields that are burnished with goldenrod. Butterflies, with golden wings fluttering, sip sweet nectar from the giant thistles. And all of this gilded beauty is backed by the sounds of a summer breeze sighing in your ear and the buzz of cicadas and crickets. That’s about as close to pure glory as my life affords.

The Glow Began in July…

The eastern path through the central meadow at Charles Ilsley Park on July 15, 2019

Let’s just say the Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta) got magnificently carried away in the central meadow at Ilsley. Perhaps the contractor who planted wild seed last year had a wee bit too much of them in the mix? But I didn’t hear anyone complain when the meadow was literally blanketed in black and gold. By early August, they had browned, leaving behind seeds that will provide nourishment for migrators and winter birds.

Nature Comes Back with a Second Wave of Gold

A female Monarch (Danaus plexippus) stares out at me from a Black-eyed Susan finished off from the intense heat of July. Her wings are a lovely soft gold underneath.

In their place, though not quite as abundant, came a close relative, the buttery yellow Brown-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia triloba). Instead of a single flower on each stem like their black-eyed cousins, these Susans produce branching stems with profuse, but smaller blossoms which create a similar sunny effect.

Brown-eyed Susans emerged just as the Black-eyed Susans faded, though not in quite the same profusion.

Of course, August always brings waves of different Goldenrods to keep the gold coming in late summer. Right now, I commonly see three different ones: the cascades of Canada Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis), Stiff Goldenrod  (Solidago rigida) with its ramrod stems lined with clinging oval leaves and bouquet-like sprays of Grass-leaved Goldenrod (Euthamia graminifolia) which is from a different genus of the Aster family. Later in the month, we’ll begin to see the  upright, lemon yellow plumes of Showy Goldenrod (Solidago speciosa) doing its part to keep the fields golden right into September. (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

The Gray-headed/Yellow Coneflowers (Ratibida pinnata) add their droopy charm to the fields too, though their best days are behind them for this season. And the tall spikes of Common Evening Primrose (Oenothera biennis) are topped by gold blossoms that stay open from evening until early morning, and later on cloudy days as well.

I love how native plants host so many insects in an era when the insect world is suffering from plunging numbers all over the planet. Here two False Sunflowers (Heliopsis helianthoides) standing next to each other hosted a Soldier Beetle (Cantharidae family) and the nymph of a Katydid (Tettigoniida family). Have a closer look at the amazing length of the katydid’s antennae by clicking on the right photo. One of the ways you can tell a grasshopper from a katydid is that grasshoppers have much shorter antennae than the very long, fine ones you’ll see on the nymph below.

Out in the far west of the park at the edge of the woods, a tall, striking, yellow flower with very unusual blossoms caught my eye. Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township Stewardship Manager, identified it for me as Wingstem (Verbesina alternifolia)and indeed, its flat stem had narrow “wings” on either side. Wingstem flower heads cluster at the top of the 3′-8′ stem. Each bloom is actually a flower within a ring of flowers. The “disc florets” in this plant are the tube-shaped flowers that thrust outward from the center of the flower head. What looks like a ring of petals around the central disc is actually a ring of “ray florets” and each of them is an individual flower that has the ability to produce its own seed. In botany, “florets” are individual flowers within a flower head, whereas what we see as individual petals on ray flowers are really three petals fused together. And how about those curly little stigmas that we see whimsically protruding from the ends of the disc florets! What a fun wildflower!

Wingstem is not seen a lot in Michigan, but it’s now growing in two of our parks!

Wingstem has a limited distribution in Michigan, so we’re lucky to have them. These Charles Ilsley Park plants grew from seeds that Ben collected at the township’s Blue Heron Environmental Area, which was the only place he’s seen them in the township. It’s exciting to know that the seeds Ben planted at Ilsley have taken hold, so that we now have two parks in which this unusual native plant has found a home.

Birds Matching the Black and Gold Landscape

Let’s Start with A Goldfinch Saga!

American Goldfinches (Spinus tristis) – Unlike most other birds, Goldfinches start mating around mid- to late-July when the thistles bloom, which is a source for both nesting material and food for them. Once the first broods fledge in early August, most Goldfinches mate a second time.

On August 9, Mike and Joan Kent, birding friends, took a walk at Ilsley and spotted a nest in a thistle.  Joan peeked in and saw 3 eggs. They noticed a lot of Goldfinches nearby and assumed it was probably the nest of one of them. And that was that, until…

On our Wednesday bird walk on August 21, Vinnie Morganti, another member of our bird group, spotted the same nest located within the thorny stems of a tall Bull Thistle (Cirsium vulgare). A Goldfinch’s cup nest  is woven from plants and root fibers and lashed to a bush or plant with spider silk. Then it’s lined with thistle down which makes it close to waterproof inside. A small masterpiece. This pair chose a location which probably deterred predators, though it may have been a bit hard on the parents’ wings while feeding!

A Goldfinch nest tucked into a thistle and lined with thistle down

Peeking into the nest, I discovered  4 baby birds. Fellow birder, Tom Korb, got a photo of the blind and slightly fuzzy hatchlings by valiantly sticking his cellphone into the thistle above them. Tom and I decided to share monitoring these little birds until they fledged and report our findings to Cornell’s Nestwatch , a citizen science site we use for our township nest boxes.

Goldfinch hatchlings, probably about four days old,  cuddled up in a cup filled with plant down. Photo by Tom Korb.

We bird monitors are trained not to go to a nest more often than every 3 – 5 days. So when I returned to the park the following day, I stood far off looking through a long lens. Imagine my delight when I saw one little head popping up above the nest! I don’t know if it could see the meadow yet. Perhaps it was just enjoying the breeze ruffling its Einstein hairdo!

The fuzzy head of a goldfinch hatchling facing out into the meadow, perhaps to catch a breeze.

I came back to monitor on August 24 hoping to get a photo inside the nest despite the thistle’s thorns. I’d brought along the fancy, black leather gloves my mother had given me years ago to wear to  the theater – but here I was using them to reach inside a thistle! I could picture my mom laughing and shaking her head – but the gloves worked beautifully! In the photo, I could see the opened eye of at least one little nestling, though the rest were snoozing in their sturdy nest cup. It appeared that the beige tips of feathers might be emerging from their dark sheaths. We think now that they were about a week old in this photo.  They’d come a long way  from those blind babies in just 3 days!

Three days after we first saw them, their eyes were opening and their yellowish-beige feathers began to emerge from their sheaths. They were about a week old.

At our August 28 bird walk in another park, Mike Kent told us about his wife seeing the nest at Charles Ilsley Park on August 9.  Good news for us monitors, because that allowed us to use the guidelines on the Nestwatch site to estimate the age of the Goldfinch hatchlings more accurately. After the bird walk, I accompanied Tom on his monitoring trip to the Ilsley nest. What a change! Little heads peered up over the nest edge – eyes and beaks open. According to the Donald W. Stokes’ Guide to Bird Behavior (Vol.1), during their first week after hatching, Goldfinch nestlings are quiet but will silently reach up for food if the edge of the nest is tapped. In the second week, these nestlings begin making a lot of noise – but wisely only do so when a parent arrives with food. Tom got a great photo of the bright red mouth of a begging, but silent, youngster!

The bright red inside the nestlings mouth makes a nice target for its parent when feeding! Photo by Tom Korb

That day, all the nestlings, now about 11 days old, looked bright and alert, peeking out into the world and fully feathered. The Stokes Guide explained that those white blobs on the nest are fecal sacs, the avian equivalent of soiled diapers. Goldfinch nestlings are quite fastidious. The first week after the young hatch, adults carry the waste sacs away from the nest. But starting in the second week, little goldfinches back up to the edge of the nest and drop these little packages over the side!

A nestling peers at me from the nest at 11 days old, surrounded by the fecal sacs that  it and the others have dropped over the nest edge.

My last turn at monitoring the nest was on August 31 – and the nest was empty. The nestlings had become fledglings. Our estimate is that they fledged on their 12th or 13th day after hatching. The nest was remarkably clean inside (if not outside) which might have meant a healthier, more comfortable environment for the nestlings.  

I could hear a fledgling begging far off in a stand of thistle and through my binoculars, I thought I saw a couple of small birds fluttering among the stems. A female flew in among the thistle, perhaps feeding “our” fledglings from her second brood. A male seemed to be on sentinel duty nearby before he flew off to gather more seed. Off into the world for our Goldfinch fledglings! And the end of our nesting saga.

Hard-working Goldfinch Adults

While the females incubate a second brood, male Goldfinches  are on their own in feeding the first brood – which can be as many as seven fledglings, according to Cornell’s nestwatch.org! Begging calls of first brood youngsters could be heard a week ago as young fledglings pursued their harried parents around the park or called from the treelines to be found. This little Goldfinch fledgling seemed a bit more mellow than the rest.

A goldfinch fledgling watching for its father and no doubt hoping for a meal.

The Goldfinches’ primary food source is thistle seed so I’ve seen males all over the fields with thistle down (pappus) hanging from their beaks. They dig industriously into the seedhead, pull out the down, carefully nibble off the seeds and then let the down fly. Stokes informed me that they feed partially digested seed to their  young, as they also do for the mate during her first week on the nest. Quite a responsibility!

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More Gold and Black Birds!

In a bush in the far west meadow, I saw a flash of yellow and took a quick couple of shots as a bird perched for a moment and then flew.  I wasn’t sure what I’d seen. Local birding expert, Ruth Glass, identified it as a female Baltimore Oriole (Icterus galbula.) She told me that by now most of our summer orioles have left for Central or South America with their young, so the one I saw was likely a migrator from further north.

The birding group saw other birds sporting lovely yellow trim. A trio of Cedar Waxwings (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched far above in a bare tree. Through binoculars, two clearly had the yellow bellies and yellow tail bands that identify this handsome bird. Juveniles have a fainter black mask and some brown streaking on the breast, but in this distant photo against a gray sky, it’s hard to tell if any of them were juveniles or adults .

Cedar Waxwings added their bright yellow bellies and yellow-tipped tails to a golden August morning.

Ruth Glass also helped me identify a strange looking dark bird that mystified me. She said she was “95% sure” it was a male Indigo Bunting (Passerina cyanea) molting from his brilliant blue breeding colors  into his mostly brown non-breeding colors which are similar to the female Bunting. This mottled look is common for males during the molt. I would never have guessed! Thank you, Ruth!

A male Indigo Bunting in the midst of his molt into brownish non-breeding colors

Some large dark brown birds also added contrast to all the gold around them. A trio of Turkey Vultures (Cathartes aura) rested on a broken snag near the edge of the center field. Through the trees on my way into the park, I saw one of them spreading its magnificent wings to the sunlight. They do this to warm them, stretch them, or to expose any bacteria on them to air and light.

A turkey vulture spreading its wings to the sun.

Around the corner, two other vultures perched on a broken snag. This one made me smile, because it looked as though it was appealing for a little sympathy. I’m afraid vultures don’t get much appreciation, though I think their soaring flight is graceful and the cleanup services they provide are crucial. Really, though, the bird was just preparing to preen.

Another vulture looks like it’s asking for sympathy, but it’s really just starting to preen.

The first vulture suddenly flew straight up in the air and landed rather awkwardly on a branch that was much too short. It fluttered clumsily right, then left, until it finally found its footing. Is it my imagination or are the other two a bit embarrassed by the graceless landing skills of their compatriot? Probably, my imagination….  (Tap arrow to play and to pause for reading captions.)

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Butterflies Complement the Color Scheme

This August the huge, dramatic Giant Swallowtail butteflies (Papilio cresphontes) arrived in Charles Ilsley Park in large numbers. One afternoon about two weeks ago, perhaps a dozen of them landed delicately on the large purple blooms of Bull Thistle, or hovered in front of them, extending their long proboscises to sip while avoiding the thorns. I don’t know if this thistle is a favorite plant for these big butterflies or if they were just the biggest blooms with the most nectar when they arrived. They chased each other over the fields, creating a shimmer of gold and black all over the central meadow.

A Giant Swallowtail, one of many at Ilsley in August, sips nectar from a Bull Thistle.

You’ll note that the one above has a few missing pieces on its wings and that the black edges look a bit worn. I compared the very tattered dorsal (upper) side of one I saw on thistle at Charles Ilsley Park in late August with the fine specimen I saw on Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa) at Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park in late July a couple of years ago. I wondered if the difference in wear and tear was due to feeding among thorny thistles or perhaps just the normal battering big wings take after an extra month of foraging and mating. I’m guessing a bit of both.

These dramatic swallowtails have expanded their range further north since about 2001 when first frosts became more uncommon in September – perhaps an effect of global warming. They lay their eggs on plants that will act as hosts for their larvae, which includes two of our abundant natives, Swamp Milkweed  and the Solidago genus of Goldenrods.

The Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) made its elegant contribution to the black-and-gold meadows. These high-flyers raise 2-3 broods each summer. Their caterpillars spin a remarkable chrysalis that matches dead wood very closely. It’s held in place by a thin string of silk on one end of the chrysalis and a silk pad at the other. That’s where the caterpillar spends the winter. There’s a remarkable photo of a Tiger Swallowtail’s chrysalis at the bottom of this Wikipedia page. Be sure to click on it to enlarge so you can tell where the bark ends and the chrysalis begins! My photo below shows the tiny hairs on the swallowtail’s wings – the closest my camera has ever come to a Tiger Swallowtail, I think.

The blue spots at the bottom of her rather ragged wings tells me that this is a female Tiger Swallowtail. Perhaps sipping at thistles has taken its toll on her as well as the Giant Swallowtails?

Three small Lepidopterans played a role in the color scheme. Like the members of the Swallowtail family (Papilio),  a female Black Swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes) found Bull Thistle a good choice for nectar in this transition time just before the Goldenrods reach their full glory and other fall asters emerge. I admit I appreciate the non-native Bull Thistles more this year, having seen how much sustenance they’re providing after a torrid July brought an earlier end to the bloom of so many wildflowers. A Clouded Sulphur (Colias philodice) paused on the drying leaves of a Queen Anne’s Lace. I’ve wanted to see a chrysalis of these small butterflies ever since I read it described as “yellow with a pink zipper”! No luck yet.  And the Ctenucha Moth (Erebidae family) did a fine job of contrasting its black wings with the yellow Grass-leaved Goldrod.

So much gold!  And I didn’t even include the gold and black bumblebees, wasps and honey bees foraging among this late summer landscape! Such riches, eh?

Late Summer Serenity

Sometimes life does come full circle.  Standing at the edge of the meadows at Charles Ilsley Park with sunlight falling on a fluttering, buzzing,  golden landscape, I could feel the deep sense of calm and quiet that I relished in our township in my childhood. On just such a morning then, I would stand on the sturdy limbs of a rugged old tree overlooking a wild pond or spread my blanket in the short grass near the shore and breathe in the comforting scent of warm earth and grass. I feel so fortunate as an older woman to still experience that certainty of being part of something big and beautiful that nature offers all of us if we take the time. I wish that for you, too.

Postcript: Watch for More Ilsley Photos!

Of course, Charles Ilsley Park offered me much more than gold and black in its rich diversity:  a wet spot in a field suddenly blooming with red and blue wildflowers, a fuzzy brown House Finch fledgling peeking through the greenery,  lavender blossoms emerging from the seedbank where a moist swale was restored, a dramatic Darner dragonfly decorated in a pattern of blue and green and more. So rather than extend this blog, I’ll create a shorter photo blog later this week to fill in the rest of the color palette at Charles Ilsley Park.  Hope you can drop by!

THIS WEEK IN STEWARDSHIP: Battling Oriental Bittersweet

The stewardship crew has been busy managing more invasive woody shrubs along the Paint Creek Trail and at Bear Creek Nature Park. One invasive woody shrub species we would like to highlight is oriental bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus). Bittersweet can be found in a wide range of habitats from woodlands to marshes. It’s a woody vine that will wrap around other plants and trees, covering the vegetation completely and killing them in the process. The twining stems can even climb up to the top of mature trees!

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Oriental bittersweet climbs anything it can. The weight of its heavy vines can take down mature trees and smother ground vegetation.

One way to identify bittersweet is by its extensive, bright orange roots. The leaves are alternate along the stem (not in pairs), with toothed margins. The leaves often have a roundish body that tapers to a long tip, but can vary in shape. Its flowers are a pale greenish-yellow and can be found at the base of the leaves along the stem. Bittersweet produces small orange fruits, which makes the vines popular in holiday wreathes.

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Ripe bittersweet fruits are attractive with their orange and red contrast, but don’t be fooled! Bittersweet will take over if you throw your holiday wreath in the woods. Photo by iNaturalist user Ganeish, used with permission CC-BY-NC.

This aggressive invasive species can produce large populations from just one seed! Small root fragments can also regenerate, making it difficult to remove completely. Birds and small mammals enjoy the fruits and help this invasive species travel long distances – however the fruits are poisonous to humans and livestock. Don’t spread bittersweet with your holiday wreath!

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So if you see the crew out in the parks and would like to learn more about bittersweet and how to identify it, please stop to ask questions!