Field Note: Rx for Restoration? Fire??? Yes, Indeed!

Some of the fire crew gathered under the Big Oak during a pause in this spring’s burn. Note that the crew kept the fire from singeing the oak’s trunk, though it’s fire-adapted like all oaks. It was done out of deference to all the changes the Big Oak has experienced this year. Photo by Ben VanderWeide.
Text and some photos by Cam
Mannino

Eight years ago, when I first heard about prescribed burns, I thought “What? That’s pretty counter intuitive. Why would anyone apply fire to help plants?” Luckily, I learned about these restorative burns from Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township stewardship manager; he had the answers.

After recent highly successful prescribed burns at Bear Creek Nature Park, I thought it might be time to discuss this seemingly strange process once more.

[Please Note: Due to an absurd mistake on my part, nearly all my photos of this spring’s Bear Creek burn were lost. I heartily thank volunteers Bob Schrader and John Reed as well as Grant VanderLaan and Ben for sharing their photos for this blog. My apologies to the fire crew for messing up big time!]

The History of Fire in our Prairies

For thousands of years, rolling prairies and oak savannas, dotted with native wildflowers and widely spaced oaks, carpeted our area of southeast Michigan. Lightning strikes periodically set the trees and fields ablaze, creating large wildfires. The Anishinaabek people that lived here also made regular use of fire, clearing land for crops and attracting game with the tender new plants that rise after a fire.

An oak with minimal competition at Charles Ilsley Park in spring. This landscape of rolling prairies and big oaks is similar to the landscapes of the past in Oakland Township.

As a result, our native plants became fire-adapted. They “learned to live with” fire and even benefit from it. Trees like the oak in the photo above developed thick bark, especially at the base. Some like jack pines (Pinus banksiana) even require fire to trigger their pine cones to release seeds. For others the chemicals in smoke, the heat of the fire itself, or removing accumulated thatch cues dormant seeds to germinate.

Fire Becomes an Ally in Restoration

Today, while renewing our native plants, fire also discourages or even eliminates many aggressive non-native, non-productive plants that invaded our fields, forests, and remnant prairies after agriculture ended. Their leaves and fruits are either toxic or drastically less nutritious for our native birds, native insects and their caterpillars. Fire acts as an ally in restoration by knocking back these plants that didn’t evolve with fire and therefore never adapted to it. Other invasive plants like crown vetch, Phragmites, invasive bittersweet, and swallow-wort respond positively to fire, so burning is often paired with other management techniques if these plants are found in area to be burned. Our native plants can then provide the nourishing, healthy food on which our wildlife depends.

Planning the Prescribed Burn

As Stewardship Manager, Ben plans the burns long ahead of time, choosing areas with good potential for restoration, especially ones with invasive and/or non-native vegetation. If the burn will encompass flat or gently sloped land, Ben often uses his staff plus trained volunteers to set and manage the fire. (Look for our annual training day each February if you’re interested!) He hires licensed contractors to conduct burns that involve large areas, forests with lots of dead wood, or steep hills which present more challenges. [Please note that any prescribed burn should only be done by trained personnel! Detailed knowledge and experience are required for a safe burn.]

Volunteer fire crew preparing to burn, March 2016.

Volunteers meet with Ben and the stewardship crew before the fire to review his burn plan in detail. The Parks and Recreation Commission provides our local crew with hard hats, fire-resistant clothing and face shields, as well as walkie-talkies so that crew members can communicate with one another during the burn. All members are trained to acknowledge instructions given to them by the crew leaders and to report any changes in their location or fire behavior during the burn. Once the neighbors have been notified, prescribed fires occur on days with the right wind speed, wind direction, and humidity. A fire weather forecast also gives the crew clues about how well the smoke will rise and disperse. Before the burn begins, the crew removes logs and large fallen branches near the edge of the burn unit and/or douses them with water from backpack canisters that can be refilled from a large tank carried in the crew’s truck .

Ben monitors the wind before and during the burn to prevent the smoke as much as possible from carrying into nearby neighborhoods. The natural areas stewardship staff creates or checks “burn breaks” around the perimeter of the “burn unit” days, weeks, or months before the burn day. A burn break can be pond, stream, or other naturally occurring feature, or it might be a trail, road, parking lot or other human-constructed thing that doesn’t have fuel for the fire to burn across. Burn breaks are also created around bird nest boxes, utility poles, or other fire-sensitive objects inside the burn unit.

Igniting and Monitoring the Fire

The crew first ignites the fire on the downwind side of the burn unit, creating a slow “back burn” that creeps against the wind into the burn unit. Fire slips in droplets from the tip of a drip torch as crew members walk slowly around the edges of the unit, carefully starting the fire. The crew allows the fire to create a wide burned area on the downwind side before moving around to the edges, or “flanks.”

The crew lights a back burn on the downwind side of a burn unit to create a safe, wide burned area.

As the crew spreads the fire around the flanks, it slowly spreads inward toward the center of the burn unit.

North of Bear Creek’s Center Pond, volunteer Vinnie Morganti spreads fire with a drip torch while Grant Vander Laan monitors with a water backpack. Photo by Bob Schrader.
Fire moving to the center of the slope from two directions near the Bear Creek Nature Park lookout point. Photo by John Reed.

The fire burns around and under trees and shrubs. Most larger trees have thick bark that easily protects them from a quickly passing fire. Many small trees and shrubs are top-killed by fire, but most resprout vigorously afterward. In fact sumacs, willows, and some other native shrubs grow better if they are occasionally pruned back by fire. In my photos below, fire burned right under a fire-adapted small oak during the second burn and when it passed on, the little oak and its spring leaf buds showed no damage. If small oaks are top killed by fire, they resprout vigorously from their huge roots.

While the basic tools of prescribed burns are water tanks and drip torches, some crew members carry tools like a flat-backed fire rake or a fire flapper to separate burning embers or rub sparks or embers into the ground. Once the fire dies down, these tools and the water tanks are used to put out any smoldering material during “mop up.”

Wondering about the Impact on Wildlife?

I worried about this, too! But having witnessed many burns at this point, I’ve learned that once the smoke starts, creatures move quickly out of the burn units. The fire crews never burn a whole park in one day, so there are always unburnt areas in the park where moles, snakes, mice and insects can find refuge quickly. In fact, the crew tries to work the fire upwind so that rabbits, squirrels and other creatures smell the smoke sooner and have time to escape to other areas in the park or beyond.

Some animals and insects retreat to underground nests, like the ants. Remember that our native insects have been dealing with fire for thousands of years and react quickly to smoke. Our pollinators and their caterpillars will benefit greatly in future weeks from the increased population of nutritious native plants created by the longer growing season and the natural fertilizer as the nutrients in the dead plant material are returned to the soil. Many native plants flower more vigorously after a burn, creating a bountiful buffet for our pollinators.

Of course, I’ve also seen a Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) and an American Kestrel (Falco sparverius) high in the trees calmly ignoring the smoke blowing across their eyes as they watch carefully for possible prey.

Ben checked one of the burned fields at Bear Creek a few days after the March 21 burn this spring, and found American Robins, Red-winged Blackbirds, and others enjoying the easy food options on the Western Slope. Here’s his video of what he heard as he looked across the blackened field! Quite a chorus! The nearby unburned fields were much quieter.

A chorus of excited birds after the first burn at Bear Creek Nature Park this spring. Video by Ben VanderWeide.

Smaller birds and other animals benefit by foraging in the burn unit after the fire is out. The morning after the first burn, I came back to find American Robins (Turdis migratorious) all over the fields, snatching up worms or insects and a few Dark-eyed Juncos (Junco hyemalis) busily pecking their way around the blackened areas.

Sowing Native Seed After A Burn

After the second burn at Bear Creek Nature Park this year, Ben sent this assessment to volunteers and staff:

“The burn jump-started the next phase of our restoration work in these burn units! Today [March 31, 2023] between breaks in the rain, we will spread a locally-collected native seed mix on the burned areas to help increase the native plant diversity. It usually takes 3-5 years for plants growing from seed to establish and become noticeable, so you won’t see the results of this seeding for a while. You will see the response from naturally occurring native plants, and from native plant seed that we spread years ago! Look for more growth and flowering from our native wildflowers and prairie grasses this summer!”

More from Ben: “In a few weeks you’ll start to see green growth emerging in the burn units. Early season burns often take a bit longer to green up compared to areas burned in April or early May. Later this spring and early summer we’ll scan through the burn units to look for invasive plants like crown vetch, teasel, and swallow-wort. Later summer or early fall the stewardship crew plans to scan through the burn units to spot treat invasive shrubs that were top-killed by the fire. Next spring we hope to repeat the burn, seed, and invasives monitoring sequence. This process has produced good results as an alternative prairie restoration technique for old field/pasture in Wisconsin (check out this webinar for more info – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvMy–MMM2c), so we’re trying it in the fields at Bear Creek Nature Park.”

Ben was so right about the greening up process. Here’s the Western Slope after the March 21 burn and what it looked like about a month later on April 22.

Fire’s Big Payoff

As Ben says above, planting native seeds means a 3-5 year wait for the full bloom to appear while the plants grow deep roots. But if conditions are right, the result can be just amazing and well worth the wait!

Here’s one example that I cherish. In April of 2014, Ben burned the Eastern Prairie at Charles Isley Park. I didn’t get there in time to get a photo that year, but on the left below is a burn photo there from another year. After the 2014 burn and other work to prepare the field, Ben planted native wildflower and grass seed in fall 2015. And look at what a glorious show we had by 2018!

Of course every park, every habitat is different, so we can’t quite expect such a magnificent bloom every time. And the flowers calm down and thin out a bit over time as they sort out their competition and wait for another fire. But I think this 2014 to 2018 transformation is what made me a convert to prescribed fire.

Sometimes I find an even bigger thrill simply seeing a native plant emerge whose seeds were waiting in the soil for years, or small, stunted plants that persisted for years under invasive shrubs. Freed of thatch and invasive shrubs, warmed, fertilized, showered with rain, they finally emerge again into the sunlight. And I love that renewal. Here are just a few wildflowers from different parks that have staged a comeback after prescribed burn and other restoration efforts over recent years.

The Inspiring Persistence of Nature

Native trees, shrubs and wildflowers are an inspiration for me. They’re tough, seasoned survivors, having lived here for thousands of years while coping with Michigan’s changeable weather and rocky, glacier-scraped soil. Native Wood Poppies (Stylophorum diphyllum) in our backdoor garden, some buried unceremoniously under huge piles of dirt by utility workers shortly after planting, just came back and kept on blooming. When our native Clematis (Clematis occidentalis) arrived from the grower looking like a bent, possibly dead stick, I planted it anyway. It bloomed with lavender blossoms during June last year. Insects skeletonized the leaves of our Zigzag Goldenrods(Solidago flexicaulis) its first year, but they leafed out and bloomed a year later.

Once native plants establish their deep roots, they take care of themselves and their needs are few. They can thrive in poor soil, tolerate drought, fight off predatory insects with their own chemicals and insist on survival without frequent watering or fertilizer. And as you can see in our parks, they can even thrive after fire, for heaven’s sake!

It’s a sad fact that native plants face a host of challenges caused by us, the brilliant but heedless species, Homo sapiens. Invasive trees, shrubs, grasses and flowers from afar were transported or purchased here by you, I and our forebears. When they escape from our yards into natural areas, they transform our fields and woodlands into dense thickets of a few non-native species. Our native habitat relies on pollinators for survival, but their numbers continue to plummet because we unwittingly chose, and in most cases continue to choose, pretty non-native plants whose leaves malnourish or kill caterpillars, the next generation of insects. And of course few of us have seriously reduced our reliance on fossil fuels which create the newly extreme and erratic climate that wreaks havoc on the complex relationships that sustained nature in a healthy, finely tuned ecosystem for millennia.

But now we know, right? And here in Oakland Township, we’re doing our best to provide native plants with a new lease on life. First, we preserve open areas and then we work to restore them to health. So when Ben and the stewardship crew ignite their drip torches, I’m delighted. We’re taking nature’s side, trying to restore native habitats in our parks and for many of us, in our yards and gardens. That’s the side I want to be on – and I’m betting you do, too. I mean, it makes so much sense! After all, nature can survive without us, but we definitely cannot survive without nature! So let’s just do what we can with what we know now. Let’s see how much progress we can make in our little green corner of the world before we leave it to the next generation.

False sunflower and bee balm flowering at the Paint Creek Heritage Area – Wet Prairie the summer after a 2016 burn.

Field Note: Restoring the Past and Preserving the Future in the Wet Prairie Woodlands

On a gray day in mid-December, while buzzing about trying to complete a myriad of Christmas errands, a message appeared on my phone from Dr. Ben VanderWeide, Oakland Township’s Stewardship Manager. He wanted me to know that he and a small crew were working in the woods at the Paint Creek Heritage Area – Wet Prairie.

Text and photos by Cam Mannino

Aha! Ben knows that restoration of that particular woods is of special interest to me! So when a free moment appeared, I grabbed my camera and headed north on the trail from Silver Bell Road to see the transformations taking place in one of my favorite restoration projects.

A Reminder about an Historic Change in Paint Creek

As I’ve explained in a previous blog, for eons Paint Creek wandered through the floodplain west of the Paint Creek Trail just north of Silver Bell Road. But in the late 19th century, the stream bed was moved to accommodate the railroad that ran along what is now the Trail. Since then, the water in the original bed comes from rain, snow melt, and some groundwater. After human intervention dramatically altered the water flow (or hydrology) of the area, non-native bushes, vines and trees invaded the wet meadows and moist open woodland along the former stream bed.

The new, non-natives had distinct advantages. Their predators – insects, fungi, animals – were left behind in their countries of origin. They could easily compete with native plants whose predators are also native. The open tree canopy closed, and the woodland floor darkened. And over the next century, invasive shrubs and vines gradually choked off or shaded out most of the native plants that had bloomed for millennia in the woodland and wet meadows and along the former creek bed.

A 1963 aerial photo showing the old bed of Paint Creek (blue), the core wet-mesic prairie area (green), and the current active restoration area outlined in red.

The Restoration Process Begins to Unfold

Most of the work at the Wet Prairie since its acquisition in 2003 had concentrated on the core wet-mesic prairie and the wet meadows to the south. In 2018, a parks prescribed burn contractor conducted a controlled burn in the north half of the park which top-killed huge thickets of non-native brush. Restoration was off and running! But much more was needed, of course, and heavy equipment was impractical in a delicate, very moist area.

So in late 2020, Ben, stewardship specialist Grant VanderLaan, staff from Six Rivers Land Conservancy, and volunteers took on the monumental task of cutting and carefully burning as many non-native bushes and vines as possible in the northern wet meadows and woodland. In some areas, careful application of herbicides to stumps and small re-sprouts followed in order to eliminate invasive species while doing as little harm as possible to any native plants still struggling to survive beneath the non-native thickets. It was an exhausting, laborious process, but what a transformation was taking shape!

This past autumn, the crew’s goal was to continue to increase light reaching the woodland floor to help the special mix of woodland wildflowers, grasses, and sedges return. To do this they reduced the number of fallen ash trees caused by emerald ash borer damage, removed any last invasive shrubs, and thinned trees that were choking out the remaining oaks in the area. As they’ve done annually for several years, volunteers also collected and cleaned a record amount of native wildflower and grass seed from local populations. The Wet Prairie woodlands were an ideal location for sowing some of it once this fall’s work was completed.

Small Winter Fires of Brush and Fallen Logs Release Nutrients Back to the Soil

Piles of branches and logs from old dead falls piled where the canopy is tall and open.

In mid-December, Ben’s message appeared on my phone with a photo of a small part of the work area. Amazed at what I saw, I left Christmas prep behind and headed to the Wet Prairie. The work crew was small by then – just Ben, Grant and hard-working volunteers George Hartsig and Jon Reed. They had removed a remarkable amount of non-native shrubs and vines and piled them along with the ash deadfalls and thinned saplings in open areas where low fires on moist ground could not reach the canopy. Then they’d set the piles ablaze on the wet soil and tended the fires until they had turned to ash. Wet winter days are ideal for this work and I was happy to see plumes of white smoke rising in multiple spots throughout the woodland when I arrived.

Multiple fires burned in the moist woodland, tended by Dr. Ben, stewardship specialist Grant VanderLaan and volunteer George Hartsig.
A section of the woodland restoration area with burn piles smoking in the distance in the current work area.

I was delighted to see the woods opening further with the restoration work. Now patches of sunlight and rain could nurture the woodland floor, and struggling wet meadow plants could grow. Another part of the moist woodland could breathe again.

The “Comeback Kids”: Native Plants Return and an Iconic Bird Responds to Restoration

Though invasive plants had decimated many of the native species that once bloomed on the forest floor and along the banks of the stream bed, a few hardy survivors appear each year as restoration continues. Last year, in an area along the Paint Creek Trail formerly blanked by thickets of bittersweet, privet, glossy buckthorn and autumn olive, a gorgeous carpet of native Golden Alexanders (Zizia aurea) emerged on its own! Imagine how long those native wildflowers had waited for the sun and the rain!

Last summer, the stewardship crew spotted a Red-Headed Woodpecker (Melanerpes erythrocephalus) exploring a possible nesting cavity on a dead tree at the Wet Prairie. These birds prefer woodlands with open canopies and plenty of standing dead trees, just the conditions that restoration work had provided over the years (with some help from the emerald ash borer, in this case.) A hopeful sign that restoration will encourage the return of other species!

A Red-Headed Woodpecker at Paint Creek Heritage Area – Wet Prairie in summer 2022.

During my December visit, Ben pointed out some of the remaining green leaves or dry stems of sturdy native plants that have emerged since restoration granted them their days in the sunshine and rain.

A Final Step for this Year: Sowing Native Seed

Sadly, few native plants survived the long years of domination by non-native species. Ben would like to return more native wildflowers and grasses to this special woodland. So as the fires burned low this winter, Grant used a leaf blower to open patches around the cleared area to allow native seed to reach the soil. And George spread the collected seed mixes in the woods – a mesic savanna mix for consistently moist areas and a sunny wet meadow mix for wetter spots.

Isn’t it cheering that native seed prefers to be sown in the coldest months? It’s so counter-intuitive and I love that! In fact, many native seeds need the cold to germinate. Then these hardy native plants spend about three years growing deep roots until they fully bloom, ready for Michigan’s unpredictable weather. We’ll have to be patient, but with luck, the wait will be worth it. Here are a few of the plants we can hope to see taking up residence in the woodland at the Wet Prairie once they’ve established their deep root systems. (Click on black boxes at the edge of the frame to move through the slideshow below.)

Looking to the Past to Help the Future Flourish

Ostrich Ferns (Matteuccia struthiopteris) under the open canopy in a restored area within the Wet Prairie Woodland in 2021

As I watched the fires on that gray December day, I felt that Ben and his stewardship plans were not only restoring an ancient ecosystem that nature had developed over thousands of years. Restoration will also make it possible for nature, with a bit of help from us, to once more determine what will develop and thrive there in the future. At an online workshop I attended in November, Gregory Nowicki of the US Department of Agriculture summed up restoration with a quote he found that perfectly captured what I felt as I watched those fires slowly burning down in the Wet Prairie Woods.

Restoration uses the past not as a goal but as a reference point for the future. If we seek to recreate the temperate forests, tall grass savannas, or desert communities of centuries past, it is not to turn back the evolutionary clock but to set it ticking again.” (Falk 1990)

Yes! Nature knows best and humans, even with the best intentions, have interfered with ancient processes that supported a healthy, highly varied habitat. Those carpets of invasive plants appeared in our parks because humans moved them here from distant lands. But in Oakland Township, we are lending nature a helping hand, letting it get back to work at filling our parks and natural areas with healthy habitat that supports the birds, animals, and insects that share the benefits of nature’s bounty with us. What a Christmas gift Ben gave me when he sent me that text!

Prairie Fen Series – Recognizing a Fen Neighbor

Welcome back to our prairie fen series! The first post took a broad look at what prairie fens are and why they exist. In this post, we will focus on key plants that act as indicator species for a prairie fen community. Using mostly pictures taken from our township’s own fens, we will also dive into the vegetation zones that characterize these unique habitats.

I have been fortunate enough to visit each prairie fen in our township parks. I am always amazed by the diversity of plants I find at each of these sites. I started this series because I had little knowledge of what a prairie fen was, and no idea that I lived among them. Unlike other wetlands, I found that prairie fens blend extremely well into the surrounding environment. Maybe this is why I and so many others were estranged from these fen communities that are my close neighbors here in southern Michigan! A fen could be right under your nose in your local natural area or even your backyard! I hope this post may guide you if you hope to get acquainted with the wondrous prairie fen.

Our prairie fens

We have three prairie fen habitats in three different parks. Each site is unique with its own plant community, land use history, and threats.

We have prairie fen habitat in three of our township parks: Draper Twin Lake Park, Paint Creek Heritage Area – Fen, and Fox Nature Preserve. The plants that have greeted me at these prairie fens ranged from recognizable prairie and wetland species to more specialized flora able to survive in difficult environments. With their unique conditions, prairie fens are biodiversity hotspots for plants, animals, and insects in Michigan.

As the book Exploring the Prairie Fen Wetlands of Michigan states, prairie fens typically support twice the plant species found in bogs. Although both fens and bogs exhibit difficult growing conditions, with pH ranges in the extremes, fens exhibit a wider diversity of vegetation types. My last post gave us an important clue to why this is: fens are fed by groundwater seeps. Not all parts of the fen get equal volumes of calcium-rich water, resulting in different growing conditions and different sets of plant species in each fen zone.

Even the topography of a fen depends on the flow and composition of groundwater. Wetlands are usually associated with depressions in the landscape. However, prairie fens can be found as domes within a wetland, on slopes, and in low-lying areas along lakes and streams. Basically, wherever calcium and magnesium-rich groundwater percolates to the surface in southern Michigan, there could be a prairie fen!

When identifying a prairie fen, do not exclude areas that form a mound or on a slope. Figure from Exploring the Prairie Fen Wetlands of Michigan

Other conditions such as peat accumulation and disturbances, both natural and human-caused, can play a role in fen vegetation types. According to Michigan Natural Features Inventory (MNFI), these zones in a fen may include wooded fen, sedge meadow, marl flat, and inundated flat. As reported by the Michigan DNR, the sedge meadow is typically the largest part of a fen, while the wooded fen is found in slightly elevated uplands around the edges. Historically, naturally-caused fires and those lit by Native Americans would burn into prairie fens and maintain a more open structure. Today, the wooded fen may occupy more of the fen and the sedge meadow less due to fire suppression throughout Michigan.

The four vegetation zones of prairie fens. Note that the prairie fens in our parks are not large enough to have all of the four vegetation zones present. All photos are from our township prairie fens except the marl flat, which was taken in Springfield Township.

Prairie fens can look different from one another depending on hydrology, topography, and fire history, so it may be tricky to determine if a wetland is a prairie fen. Luckily, we can use certain plant species as fen “indicators.” Prairie fens have high pH levels due to the calcium and magnesium carbonates in the groundwater, and some plants are only found in these calcareous conditions. Identifying these specialized “calciphile” plants would bring you to a prairie fen classification without having to identify each plant species in the community. However, the lower the habitat quality, the more difficult it is to determine if a habitat is a prairie fen remnant since cattails and other generalist wetland plants typically increase in abundance after disturbance.

The Michigan State University Extension resource on fen evaluation is helpful for all levels of habitat quality. They recommend surveying in late August and early September when many of the calciphilic species are in bloom. Some of the species listed below are calcium-loving, while others occur both in fens and a variety of other wetland types. Continue scrolling to see prairie fen indicator species found in each of the vegetation zones.

Wooded fen

Larix laricina – Tamarack

Eastern Larch, also known as tamarack, is a conifer that breaks all the rules. It is a deciduous conifer that also prefers to grow in the toughest conditions. Tamarack trees are often indicators of all types of peatlands, no matter the pH, but can grow in other wetland types too. Soon they will be turning bright yellow and will eventually lose their needles. The clusters of needles on short shoots that form firework-like sprays from the branches distinguish tamaracks from other conifers in Michigan.

Toxicodendron vernix – Poison Sumac

Similar to tamarack, poison sumac can be found in both acidic and calcareous wetland soils, mostly in southern lower Michigan. I often find that the leaflets of the compound leaves point upwards to the sky. Poison sumac has light gray bark and is less “twiggy,” or finely branched than many other trees and shrubs after it drops its leaves. The photo above (right) shows the awesome fall colors that they will change into. Poison sumac may also be found scattered throughout the sedge meadow zone. Note that species may overlap in several vegetation zones.

Sedge meadow

Parnassia glauca – Grass-of-Parnassus

Grass-of-Parnassus is not a grass, although the smooth stem does tend to blend in with the surrounding grasses. This flower also has nothing to do with Mount Parnassus in Greece. Grass-of-Parnassus is only found in calcareous conditions, making it an ideal fen indicator species.

Pycnanthemum virginianum – Virginia Mountain Mint

Not sure why the common name has mountain, however, the mint part of the name is very suitable. If you are not sure about the ID of a mint, look for the square stem and rub a few leaves between your fingers. Most mint species have that characteristic aromatic fragrance. Common mountain mint occurs in wet meadows like a prairie fen but is not specific to fens. If you look closely at the flowers they are speckled with purple.

Ohio Goldenrod and Riddell’s Goldenrod

Ohio goldenrod (Solidago ohioensis) is easy to identify by its lower, rosette leaves that get quite large, have one central vein, and are flat. The upper stem leaves do not get as big as the lower leaves. The leaves of Riddell’s goldenrod (Solidago riddellii) fold inward like a paper airplane and taper to a point at the end. They have three veins obvious near the base of the leaf blade. Both species have a flat-topped inflorescence and are calciphiles, meaning they are adapted to calcareous soils.

Marsh Bellflower and Kalm’s lobelia

Marsh Bellflower (Campanula aparinoides) on the left and Kalm’s lobelia (Lobelia kalmii) on the right are both calciphilic species that can easily be overlooked among the larger species in the sedge meadow. It is worth crouching down to see these delicate flowers.

Dasiphora fruticosa – Shrubby Cinquefoil

I see this shrub everywhere in residential landscaping. That being said, it is naturally found in alkaline soils and is an indicator of calcareous conditions. In Michigan, it is mostly found in high-quality wetlands.

Rhamnus alnifoliaAlder-leaved buckthorn

Alder-leaved buckthorn is our only native buckthorn and is generally a calciphile found in high-quality wetlands. Although they are a good indicator of prairie fens, they can be tricky as they look similar to their invasive relative; common buckthorn. I can tell the difference as the leaf tips are more pointed than common buckthorn, and the leaf veins more prominent.

Bog Birch and Sage Willow

These low-lying shrubs are great indicators as they tend to stand out and are easy to identify. Both bog birch (Betula pumila) on the left and sage willow (Salix candida) on the right prefer calcareous soils. Bog birch has small oval-shaped serrated leaves while sage willow has striking white-hoary leaves.

Inundated flat

This vegetation zone can be found on the edges of lakes or streams and is dominated by various sedges and rushes. Sedges and rushes are typical in inundated flats and are super cool, but since they are not easy to identify we won’t discuss them in detail here. The Fox Nature Preserve fen is the only prairie fen in our parks with an inundated flat.

Marl flat

Marl flats have strong groundwater seepage and are therefore highly alkaline. Due to the high pH, only species adapted to extreme conditions can survive and the flats are sparsely vegetated. Our township’s prairie fens do not contain marl flats.

Marl flat landscape was taken at Shiawassee Basin Preserve in Springfield Township.

Cypripedium candidum – White Lady’s Slipper

Marl flats contain the most radical plants from rare orchids to carnivorous species such as sundew and pitcher plants.

The most rewarding part of this season was finally being in on the secret of prairie fens. Now that you have been acquainted with some botanical residents of prairie fens, I hope these communities are no longer strangers. To protect imperiled ecosystems I believe we first need to be able to recognize them as fellow neighbors. Only by understanding its parts can we understand the needs of the community as a whole.

Stay tuned for the final post in the series! We will broaden our lens and discuss human-caused threats prairie fens are facing, and what our stewardship team is doing to help.

Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park: Summer’s Long Goodbye Begins

The northern meadow at Stony Creek Ravine, partially fenced off for wetland restoration

Summer’s slow demise in late August/early September urged me to acknowledge the need for letting go. Tiny warblers seem to suddenly disappear as they head south. Canada geese begin their practice runs, forming loose “V’s” while trumpeting across the sky. Hummingbirds feed ravenously at any available nectar, gaining 25-40% of their body weight before the long journey to Mexico. Some fledglings still flutter, cry and pursue their parents for a meal; others hone their newly acquired foraging skills. Spiraling through the trees, they seek out the feast of eggs or caterpillars that the pollinators left behind. The meadows quiet down as molting birds hide their bare heads in the greenery hoping to be unseen. Wasps buzz above our outdoor meals, struggling to supplement diminished sources of food.

Text and photos by Cam Mannino

I spent quiet hours at the newer, eastern section of Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park during these waning days of summer. Come join me in the thinning sunlight and share the ebullience of young birds, the sprays of grasshoppers beneath my feet, and the persistence of butterflies on late summer blossoms that are hallmarks of this transitional season of the year.

Birds, Experienced and Not-so-experienced, Forage and Flutter

A flock of Barn Swallows gathered on a fence at Stony Creek Ravine after foraging over the wetlands for flying insects

I spent my days at Stony Creek Ravine exploring the open fields visible from the top of the Outlook Hill in the eastern section of the park. Much of this area is fenced in to protect small shrubs and trees planted in the re-emerging wetlands. Thousands of native plants were sown there when the old drainage tiles from previous owners were broken to allow water to flow again to the surface. In the spring, pools form and migrating waterbirds glide in for a bit of R&R.

Right now, though, the fenced-in sections are moist but little standing water remains after a hot summer. Social birds flock to the fences to chatter together. Solitary birds, some unusual ones this season, forage within the fence boundaries. Other just need a place to periodically perch while scouting for seeds among the tall grass and flowers within or around the fencing. My photographer friend, Bob Bonin, generously shared some of his excellent photos of birds he came across while patiently waiting near the fence line. It was the right place to be, as you’ll see below!

Young Fledglings Practice Their Foraging, Flying and Landing Skills

One of my mornings at Stony Creek Ravine was in the company of Stewardship Manager Dr. Ben VanderWeide’s Wednesday bird walks. As we entered the park, we spotted several young Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) whisking in and out of the shrubbery, bits of blue on their wings shining in the sunlight. Three of them spent a remarkable amount of time exploring a hole in a distant snag. We wondered if, being cavity nesters, they were just curious about holes in general or if this hole might have been the one from which they fledged only weeks before.

Three young Bluebirds took turns looking into this hole in a snag. Had it maybe been their nesting hole? We’ll never know, will we?

On another visit, an adult Eastern Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus) regally surveyed the area from the tallest branch of a bare tree. Perhaps the adult I saw (below left) was keeping its eye out for its offspring, a juvenile that Bob Bonin saw a few days earlier (below right.) Both birds will shortly be heading to forests in South America where they will feast on fruit during the winter. [Click on photos to enlarge.]

Bob also spotted a female Orchard Oriole (Icterus spurius) and perhaps one of her offspring. Like their bright orange relatives, the Baltimore Oriole, these birds build pouch-like nests. They breed in our parks each year but are less noticeable to most of us. The male is a dark russet orange and black and the female is yellow. Orchard Orioles depart for their overwintering grounds earlier than many other birds, so by now they’re on their way to Central America.

I fell instantly in love with this little puffball. Local bird expert, Allen Chartier, tells me it’s a juvenile Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia). This young bird can relax a bit longer than the distance migrators. Song Sparrows travel around just enough during the winter to keep themselves out of the worst of Michigan’s cold season.

This wee Song Sparrow juvenile can use autumn days to perfect its foraging skills. It will need them to handle a Midwestern winter.

A few other small birds appeared for me along the fence line. A little Eastern Wood-Pewee (Contopus virens) sings one of the most recognizable calls of a summer day – the rising “Pee – weeeee?” that sounds like an oft-repeated question. Birdsong beginners, like me, appreciate a song that identifies this little flycatcher who can be difficult to spot otherwise. Bob Bonin spotted a little Chipping Sparrow (Spizella passerina) who’ll be heading off to Florida before long. And he also saw a young Field Sparrow (Spizella pusilla) with its telltale pink/orange beak and feet.

Breeding Season Over, Adult Summer Visitors Relax Before Migration

My friend Bob brings patience as well as skill to his photography. He caught sight of two birds at the park that people rarely see and waited until he got the shot he wanted. One was a “leucistic” Savannah Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis) which means that it had partial pigmentation loss. Unlike the complete loss of pigmentation of albinos which also causes white, pink or red eyes, leucistic animals have partial pigmentation loss and their eyes are dark. Bob also waited over two hours for a closeup of another unusual bird, a Sedge Wren (Cistothorus stellaris) as it foraged for spiders and insects down in the dense grass, sedges and small shrubs within the fence. This is ideal habitat for Sedge Wrens, but since they are unpredictable nomads, we can’t count on seeing them every year.

Stony Creek Ravine hosts some more common summer residents as well – and we’re always glad to see them as well.

The plaintive cry of a Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) fell from the trees around a marshy area filled with sedges (genus Carex), ancient, grass-like plants that thrive in moist ground. When it suddenly appeared overhead, I caught it twice with my camera, once like a magnificent arrow streaking across the sky, and once in mid-scream from a prey’s eye view. Glad I’m too big to be carried away for dinner!

The fierce glare of a red-tailed hawk against the summer sky. What a striking, powerful predator!
The cry of a Red-tailed Hawk must put fear in the heart of every rabbit or field mouse within earshot.

Down Below, Butterflies, Bees and Late-Season Grasshoppers Harvested the Last of Summer’s Bounty

One of late summer’s most glamorous residents appeared in August, the glorious Giant Swallowtail (Papilio cresphontes), North America’s biggest butterfly. If you’d like to attract some to your garden, two of its favorite native plants are Rose/Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) and all of the goldenrods, both of which bloom in late summer and early fall If you can also tolerate thistles, they seem to favor them quite a lot more than we do!

At first glance, it’s easy to confuse the black and gold-spotted dorsal ( upper) sides of the Giant Swallowtail and the Eastern Black Swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes,) especially if they’re flying. But compare the ventral (lower) side of the wings. The underside of the Giant Swallowtail’s wings are yellow and the Eastern Black’s (below) are black. I was lucky to see both feeding at thistles during my visits to Stony Creek Ravine.

Smaller butterflies and moths float and flutter in the grass as well, of course – and one well-fed caterpillar just chews its way along.

As regular readers know, I’m intrigued by insects of many kinds and want to convince all comers to just enjoy them. So here are some of my other favorites during late summer at Stony Creek Ravine.

Hardy Native Wildflowers Mix with Plentiful Non-natives until Restoration Advances.

A glorious spread of native wetland Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia fulgida), a relative of the other Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) that thrives in all types of open habitat.

Though the fields in the eastern section of the park have been cleared of many non-native shrubs, native wildflowers are not plentiful yet in the fields at Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park. The long stretch of native wetland Black-eyed Susans in the photo above is a glorious exception. Restoration of a healthy habitat with more diversity has begun with seed planting at this large park, but it will take several years to come to fruition. So I have to smile seeing sturdy native blooms holding their own amidst the non-native plants on the Outlook Hill, in the surrounding fields and near the wetlands. Here are some of the other stalwart native competitors declaring their presence at this amazing 268 acre park.

One native plant that’s rampant at the park this year may not please everyone – Common Ragweed (Ambrosia artemisiifolia.) So if you suffer from hay fever, now is not a good time for your visit! Please remember, though, ragweed pollen is dispersed by the wind; that’s why it ends up in noses. So please don’t blame your sneezing on innocent goldenrods that bloom at much the same time. Their pollen is heavy and falls right to the ground, far from sensitive noses!

Common Ragweed, photo by iNaturalist.org photographer pes_c515 (CC BY-NC)

Oh! And One Creepy Fungus that I Just Have to Share!

One of the benefits of being in a birding group is having more eyes and ears seeking out interesting details in the landscape, plus access to other people’s areas of expertise. For example, the energetic, hardworking summer natural areas stewardship technicains each year provide me, at least, with younger eyes and ears, youthful enthusiasm and a knowledge base more updated than mine!

In late July, while walking up the path to the ravine, Emma Campbell, one of this summer’s technicians, stopped to comment on a spiky bump in the trail that most of us stepped around, assuming that it was just a sharp piece of root. But Emma carefully broke off one small portion and finding it white inside, correctly identified as a fungus spookily called Dead Man’s Fingers (Xylaria polymorpha). Evidently it’s a common fungus that grows from rotting wood; as you can see below, this one emerged around the remains of a stump. What a Halloween-ish discovery! Thank you, Emma! Wish I could have creeped out some friends with this one when I was a kid!

A fungus called “Dead Man’s Fingers” for obvious reasons.

The “Oohs” and the “Ughs” of Nature’s Impulse to Keep Fostering Life

Unless you are a hopeless romantic, every close observer of the natural world knows that nature is not all “sweetness and light.” The lives around us in nature can be both big and beautiful like the Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) or small and homely like the Fall Webworm (Hyphantria cunea). It can be full of tenderness, like birds tirelessly feeding their young or ruthless in its need to survive, like a hawk tearing the flesh of its prey. It can be inspiring like a flight of fall geese or macabre like the Dead Man’s Fingers fungus. But whatever qualities it has for us humans, nature itself doesn’t judge and never despairs. Against all odds, nature just proceeds eon after eon in service of sustaining life, whatever that takes. The “nature of nature,” as it were, is to adapt, survive and assure the existence of the next generation.

We humans, as just another species, would do well to take a lesson from the creatures and plants that surround us. We cannot afford to despair as our behavior changes the climate, threatening life on this special blue planet. Generations could stretch on into the future indefinitely if we would do as all other creatures have evolved to do – adapt, change, survive and above all, work hard to ensure that long after we’re gone, life continues on a healthier path than we’re on right now. If we do, our grandchildren and their descendants will honor our efforts and that honor will be well deserved. Let’s not disappoint them.

A Fragile, Wet Prairie Full of Encouraging Discoveries

A patch of familiar native plants near the southwest end of the Wet Prairie – Bee Balm, Black-eyed Susan and Butterfly Weed

Ah, the excitement of meeting interesting and beautiful strangers, eh? After all, it’s the premise of so many stories from childhood on – that moment when you’re surprised and delighted by a face you’ve never seen before. Novelists and script writers have thrived on it for centuries, it seems.

As many of you know, I’m new to the presence of native wildflowers in the landscape. Since I started volunteering with Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township stewardship manager, he’s introduced me to a bevy of native blooms emerging beneath my feet that I was completely unaware of, despite years of being an outdoor enthusiast. So when Ben kindly alerted me to some unusual wildflowers that he’d spotted at the Paint Creek Heritage Area – Wet Prairie on the Paint Creek Trail this July, I set out to find these inhabitants of the township that I’d never met before.

[Please note: As you’ll see below, the Wet Prairie is a very special and fragile place, so you’ll find it has no trails. It is technically best described as a wet-mesic prairie, according to the classification from Michigan Natural Features Inventory. Ben and his crew go there to perform important restoration work. I’m allowed to go there periodically with permission from Ben in order to bring some of the beauty of this unusual habitat to our residents in a way that doesn’t injure this special natural area. So please observe it only from the trail.]

Why Our Wet Prairie is Wet, Unlike Your Stereotypical Prairie

The original bed of Paint Creek north of the Wet Prairie before it was moved to its current position to accommodate the coming of a railroad. It fills with rain and snow melt each spring.

I don’t know about you, but in the past, I’d always envisioned prairies being like the ones in the Laura Ingalls Wilder books or western movies – big flat, dry, sunny places out west somewhere. But early on in one of Ben’s workshops, I learned that our area of Michigan was covered with oak savanna and prairie before European colonization. In that era, Paint Creek meandered in a curving flow through what is now woods and fields that surround the Wet Prairie. Periodic fires – both natural ones and ones set by indigenous people – kept the Wet Prairie free of shrubs and trees, making it a moist but sunny spot. Perhaps some of my new floral acquaintances this July first settled in then.

Loading gravel onto rail cars from a location along the Paint Creek Trail, c. 1920 (Photo courtesy of the Oakland Township Historical Society)

In the late 19th century, a railroad company moved Paint Creek east to its current position along the trail. Sparks from the trains continued to cause repeated wildfires along the track near the Wet Prairie which not only knocked back large vegetation but also favored native plants that had adapted to fire over the centuries. Shortly after the railroad arrived, an ambitious local resident began mining gravel from the current site of the Wet Prairie and loading it on train cars to sell in Detroit. Though the creek wasn’t feeding the prairie any longer, the land removal meant that the water table, with its rich collection of minerals, was left very near the surface. As a result, native wildflowers that require mineral-rich moisture could find a comfortable home there, and must have been abundant enough to establish in the newly exposed area.

Ben felling a few trees that shaded out rare plants on the Wet Prairie

In recent years, Ben and his stewardship crews have removed many invasive shrubs and trees that encroached on the prairie when the railroad was abandoned and eventually replaced by the Paint Creek Trail. Many of the special plants here have also benefited from the crew’s periodic prescribed burns over several years which eliminate a layer of dead thatch and allow open areas for native seedlings adapted to fire to take root. As a result of that stewardship work and perhaps the abundantly rainy spring this year followed by weeks of sunlight, some wildflowers that I hadn’t met before appeared in the Wet Prairie. I was delighted to meet them. Hope you will be, too.

The Beautiful Strangers that I First Met This Summer

The first two plants below have a special designation at the University of Michigan’s Michigan Flora website. About 45 years ago, botanists and ecologists created a system for rating the faithfulness of individual native species to high-quality natural communities that retain some of the native flora found in early surveys done circa 1800. Native plants are given a score between 1 and 10, 10 being the best for indicating a habitat that is very special. Non-native plants have no score. Native plants adapted to human or natural disturbance and found just about everywhere, like boxelder, score a zero on what’s called the “Coefficient of Conservatism,” or C value. Species that are found almost always in high-quality natural communities have a high C value (greater than 7).

False Asphodel and Prairie Loosestrife in the Wet Prairie are scored a perfect 10. The presence of these native wildflowers, and others with high C values indicates that the Wet Prairie is a rare remnant high-quality natural area. This natural area hosts some of the plants that likely bloomed more widely throughout southeast Michigan before agriculture, industry, logging, and mining arrived in the early 19th century. Nature fostered a rich diversity of plants then which included these wildflowers. So the Wet Prairie producing two flowers that are rated at 10 on the scale this year is impressive! And as you’ll see below, three others are scored at 8 as well. Their appearance is a strong indicator that restoration is working in Oakland Township.

If Ben and I had seen False Asphodel (Triantha glutinosa) earlier in the season, it might have appeared to have reddish tips like the photo on left by Nate Martineau at inaturalist.org. When we saw it, however, a hot July had changed them to brown. Now in August, the sepals have folded up over the developing fruit capsule which turns red as the tiny seeds inside mature. This little wildflower feeds a wide variety of bees, wasps and butterflies. It grows largely in high quality areas all over the country and can form colonies; I hope it forms one in the Wet Prairie!

I originally identified the nodding yellow flowers in the photo below as native Fringed Loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata), which I’d seen at the Wet Prairie before. But the centers of the Wet Prairie blossoms weren’t red like the ones with which I was familiar. (I didn’t notice until later that the leaves were radically different as well!) Ben later explained that the new ones were native Prairie Loosestrife (Lysimachia quadriflora) which prefers moist prairies and fens rich with chalky, calcium-rich soils, making it an ideal native resident in our Wet Prairie. This wildflower also scores a 10 in the Conservatism scale for being an indicator of ancient habitat here. The restoration work of the stewardship team over the last several years seems to have been rewarded this year!

Ben helped me locate native Harebell (Campanula rotundifolia) at the Wet Prairie. I’d only seen the nursery version (cultivar) which popped up once in the woods at my home. This delicate native beauty likes full sunlight. It may have bloomed at the Wet Prairie this year after shade trees at the prairie edge were thinned in recent years. Lots of native and non-native bees draw nectar from Harebells.

When Ben took this photo, the Harebells still looked lovely despite beginning to fade. What a graceful shape and soft lavender hue. Photo by Ben VanderWeide

Here and there I spotted stalks of Pale Spiked Lobelia (Lobelia spicata). This lovely, but short-lived wildflower requires full sun, but needed those days of spring rain we had in May to keep its seedlings alive. According to a website I find useful, illinoiswildflowers.info, this lobelia attracts a whole host of native bees, including miner bees, little carpenter bees, mason bees, leaf-cutting bees, plus butterflies and other pollinators. What a contribution this plant is making!

Pale Spiked Lobelia attracts many native bees in its short life. They come for its nectar rather than its pollen.

Northern Bedstraw (Galium boreale) likes the partial shade at the edge of the prairie. It spreads by rhizomes, underground stems beneath the soil. According to the website of Friends of the Eloise Butler Wildflower Garden in Minnesota, indigenous peoples used the roots to create red and yellow dyes and later, settlers used its fragrant, dried foliage to stuff pillows and mattresses.

Northern Bedstraw can grow to over 3 feet in partial shade. Photo by Ben VanderWeide.

Ben spotted a tiny flower that I was unable to find during my visit, native Whorled Milkwort (Polygala verticillata). Its central spike is only about 3/4 inches tall and it’s surrounded by tiny flowers that never fully open but have pink stamens protruding from the blossoms. I’m so glad Ben got a photo; I’ll look for it again next summer.

I like the spiky leaves and pink-tipped blossoms on the very small Whorled Milkwort. Photo by Ben VanderWeide

Glamorous Acquaintances That I Catch a Glimpse of Now and Then

Each year the Michigan Lily (Lilium michiganense) produces more of its dramatic, nodding blooms in various restored areas of the township. Please don’t confuse it with any other orange lily! It is distinguished by its downward facing blossom consisting of 6 six spotted petals/tepals curving dramatically upward, and a cascade of 6 stamens with dark anthers (the male flower parts) and a long pistil (the female part). Michigan Lily has whorled leaves, while the non-native tiger lily used in landscaping has alternate leaves that often have purple-brown bulblets where leaves meet the stem. Monarchs (Danaus plexippus), Great Spangled Fritillaries (Speyeria cybele) and even Spicebush Swallowtail butterflies sip nectar from our dramatic Michigan lilies!

Five stunning blooms on one stem of Michigan Lily at the Wet Prairie! Photo by Ben VanderWeide

Showy Tick-trefoil (Desmodium canadense) emerges in mid-summer and lasts about 3 weeks. Its shapely pink-lavender blossoms don’t provide nectar, but the pollen is sought after by many pollinators and the leaves provide food for the caterpillars of two lovely, small butterflies – the Eastern Tailed Blue (Everes comyntas)and Gray Hairstreak (Strymon melinus) – among others.

Beware! Showy Tick-trefoil produces hairy seeds pods that are distributed by sticking tenaciously to passing animals and human clothing!

Shrubby Cinquefoil (Dasiphora fruticosa), a member of Rose family, may not initially look as elegant as some of the other native flowers in the prairie, but it boasts a Conservatism Coefficient of 8, which means that it’s another strong indicator that that Wet Prairie is a high-quality natural area. Like false asphodel and prairie loosestrife, shrubby cinquefoil prefers to grow in areas with calcium and magnesium-rich groundwater or soil.

Elegant and Important Old Friends that Arrive in Late Summer and Fall

I look for these wildflowers each year on the Wet Prairie and last shared them in detail in a Wet Prairie blog from October of 2020. Look at the link for more information about these very special plants. Two of them, Grass of Parnassus and Fringed Gentian score an 8 on the Conservatism Coefficient scale, like the Shrubby Cinquefoil – more evidence of a high quality area with wildflowers that thrived in this area for centuries.

More Old Friends and Some of their Insect Partners and Visitors

Here’s a slideshow of native plants I’ve loved in the Wet Prairie over the years and some of the insects partners that frequent them.

The Delights of Discovery

A native Bumblebee departs a fading Bee Balm blossom at the Wet Prairie

I’m always beset with a marvelous sense of discovery the first time I’m introduced to an unusual plant like False Asphodel or a fascinating specimen like the Great Golden Digger Wasp. And once I see them, I want to learn what a new friend of mine referred to as their “stories,” e.g., their contributions to sustaining life in a particular habitat, their mating rituals, their migration patterns or overwintering sites, and on and on.

Of course, like most of you kind readers, I can’t possibly remember every detail shared here. But it’s satisfying to have recorded and shared that they live here with us. I want to be ever more aware of how we humans are just one species embedded in nature’s huge, intricate design that sustains us.

I’m glad you’re here to share these experiences with me. Together we can keep working to restore what humans have – often unwittingly – disrupted, damaged or even destroyed on this little blue planet. Perhaps our growing curiosity, sense of wonder and respect for nature’s brilliance will inspire us and our descendants to live a bit more modestly among our wild brethren. We can always hope, right?