Tag Archives: Brown Thrasher

Draper Twin Lake Park (Eastern Portion): A Rainbow of Butterflies, Fledglings Foraging and a Golden Prairie

The Northern Prairie on the east side of Draper Twin Lake Park in July

In June, the prairie pictured above at Draper Twin Lake Park was a sea of white Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) and Ox-eye Daisies (Leucanthemum vulgaris) dotted with golden Sand Coreopsis (Coreopsis lancelolata). Today, as you can see, it is carpeted in the bright yellow of Gray-headed Coneflowers (Ratibida pinnata). Such a remarkable transformation in only one month! (You’ll want to park near the small garage at 1181 Inwood Road to visit the east side of Draper Twin Lake Park.)

Text and photos by
Cam Mannino

Last week Ben VanderWeide, our township’s Natural Areas Stewardship Manager, had to mow large sections of the golden prairie to prevent seed production in the invasive and aggressive Spotted Knapweed (Centaurea stoebe). We hope the mowing will reduce knapweed abundance and give native plants a competitive edge as they continue to fill in throughout the field. The prairie, though, is still a beautiful sight since it signals the return to our parks of graceful native wildflowers and grasses that sway in a summer breeze.

Native Canada Wild Rye nods and sways within the gold of the Draper prairie.

Native Wildflowers Invite An Abundance of Butterflies

The more our prairies are restored, the more they attract a whole panoply of colorful butterflies. Giant Swallowtails (Papilio cresphontes) seem to be everywhere this summer. It may be that our hot July has encouraged more of them than usual to migrate up from the south to breed. And once they arrive, our prairies provide generously for them. This huge butterfly flutters constantly while feeding, though it floats elegantly between flowers, beating its wings briefly and then gliding along.

The Giant Swallowtail flutters constantly while feeding though it is an elegant flyer.

An Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) swooped out of a patch of Plumeless Thistle (Carduus acanthoides) and soared across the prairie.  I believe the blue spots at the bottom of the wings mean it was a female. I never noticed before that they have such a fancy striped body!

An Eastern Tiger Swallowtail female exits from a stand of Field Thistle.

Red-spotted Purples (Limenitis arthemis) love open areas on forest edges, which makes the prairie at Draper Twin Lake Park a perfect habitat. Their blue/black appearance makes them easy to confuse with Black or Spicebush Swallowtail butterflies. The big difference is that all Swallowtails are so called because of the characteristic drooping points at the bottom of the hind wings. Red-spotted Purples have scalloped hind wings but no “swallowtails.” (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

A small Viceroy (Limenitis archippus) butterfly landed on a Queen Anne’s Lace flower (Daucus carota) in front of the birding group.  Mike Kent, a fellow birder, slowly and gently extended his finger and this little one climbed right on. A few moments after this photo, it started “tasting” his skin with its long proboscis! Quite a magical moment!

A Viceroy butterfly climbs onto a birder’s finger from a nearby bloom.

A few smaller butterflies and other flying insects are fluttering across the prairie this summer. The Eastern Comma (Polygonia comma) is an early spring arrival and looks a bit battered by now.

An Eastern Comma that looks a bit battered!

The tiny white Carrot Seed Moth (Sitochroa palealis) is a non-native from Europe who, consequently, sips on many non-native European plants like Queen Anne’s Lace or here on non-native Spotted Knapweed. Thanks to Dwayne Badgero on the Butterflying Michigan Facebook page for identifying this one for me.

The Carrot Seed Moth is a non-native who feeds largely, though not exclusively, on non-native plants like the spotted knapweed shown here.

I saw the lovely American Copper (Lycaena phlaeas) on the Draper prairie earlier in the season, but never got a shot.  The photo below is one I took at Cranberry Lake Park.

I saw an American Copper on the prairie, but this photo was taken at Cranberry Lake.

This juvenile male Widow Skimmer (Libellula luctuosa) has a faint white band on its wing which will get bolder as it matures. Also, its abdomen will slowly develop a white covering. The adult females have no white band and keep the darker abdomen with the golden stripes.

The juvenile male Widow Skimmer has a faint white wing band that will be more noticeable when it matures.

Carolina Locust (Dissosteira carolina) used its stiff wings to fly up onto a Gray-headed Coneflower as the birders walked by.

A Carolina Locust grasps a Gray-headed Coneflower.

Hard-working Bird Parents are Busy Feeding the Young

On entering the eastern side of Draper Twin Lake Park last Sunday, my husband and I heard a clamor in a snag (standing dead tree) on the eastern edge of the field. A large band of Barn Swallow youngsters (Hirundo rustica) were hanging out together, a few still being quickly fed by their parents.  Stokes’ Guide to Bird Behavior (Vol. 2) explains. “Often groups of juveniles from first broods gather into flocks and feed and perch together.” We counted over 20 in or near the snag at the same time. Later that same week, Ben reported having 50 or more Barn Swallows flying right next to him and his mower as he worked on the prairie. Very social birds! Young Barn Swallows have shorter, rounder tails, rather than the longer, deeply forked ones of their parents. (Use pause button if time is needed for captions.)

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Two larger fledglings appeared on the trail between the marsh and parking area. They hopped along the edge, pecking at the earth in a desultory fashion, but repeatedly stared up longingly into the trees. We didn’t recognize them at first. Then my husband noticed a sharp clicking in the trees and we suddenly spotted an adult Brown Thrasher (Toxostoma rufum) moving stealthily through leafy branches overhead. Aha! These were two juvenile Thrashers out practicing their foraging skills! The telltale field marks are the light colored heads, scalloped backs and gray (rather than yellow) eyes.

Brown Thrasher adults are notoriously hard to see. On Sunday, the adult stayed hidden in tangled bushes, vines and leafy branches, as Thrashers most often do. But after a frustrating few minutes, the annoyed adult emerged and demonstrated his displeasure at our proximity to its young with a yellow-eyed glare and a wild tail display!

The adult Brown Thrasher show his irritation at our presence with a fantastic tail display.

In spring, high in the treetops, Brown Thrasher males sing their wildly variable song, made by mimicking Flickers, the Tufted Titmouse, the Cardinal and others. And that click we heard overhead on Sunday was an alarm/warning call that both Cornell Lab of Ornithology and the Stokes’ Guide describe as sounding like a smacking kiss! And it does! Listen to both the creative chaos of the song and smack! call at this Cornell link.

Restoring Our Natural Heritage in So Many Ways

Donna Perkins, a birder and one of our volunteer nest box monitors, waist deep in goldenrod on a summer morning.

The hard work of Ben VanderWeide and his crew in clearing, seeding and tending the natural areas of our township is paying off magnificently. Just as expected, the wildflowers and grasses flourish when given the opportunity. And as they return to their former glory, back come the butterflies, the grasshoppers, the dragonflies, and the bees. And after them, we hope, may come more of the prairie birds that used to live with us, like the Eastern Meadowlark (Sturnella magna), Henslow’s Sparrow (Ammodramus henslowii), and perhaps even the long absent Northern Bob-White (Colinus virginianus). Already less common prairie birds, like the Savannah Sparrow  (Passerculus sandwichensis) which I saw earlier this summer at Draper Twin Lake Park, are looking for mates as they ride the stems of prairie plants.

Ben’s stewardship program is also helping to restore bird populations and providing citizen science data by setting up nesting boxes in two parks and along the Paint Creek trail. The volunteers who monitor these boxes watched multiple broods of Eastern Bluebirds, Tree Swallows, House Wrens and Black-capped Chickadees go from egg to fledgling just this year.

Birders on a Wednesday morning in July at Draper Twin Lake Park.

And let’s not forget us humans. We’re also out in the our parks more these days! As Ben, his crew and volunteers restore our colorful prairies, people come out to enjoy the natural areas that township residents have been committed to preserving and protecting for many years. Our birding group has grown consistently year by year, exploring and recording bird sightings for Cornell’s eBird citizen science program even on the coldest winter, the rainiest spring and the warmest summer mornings. The schedule is under “Events” at the top of the page. Please come join us! Ben will even lend you binoculars. We’re restoring ourselves as well while we preserve, protect, and delight in our small green corner of the world.

Footnote: My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: inaturalist.org; Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology at Cornell University; Wikipedia; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela; Butterflies of Michigan Field Guide by Jaret C. Daniels, A Guide to Bird Behavior Vols.1-3 by Donald W and Lillian Q.Stokes, and others as cited in the text.

Cranberry Lake: Summer Ushers in Birds, Butterflies and Blossoms

Wild Geraniums along the Hickory Lane

 

Blog and Photos by Cam Mannino

Summer finally made its appearance all over the woods, meadows, wetlands, and forest edges of Cranberry Lake Park.  After a prescribed burn this spring, geraniums and trillium emerged under the huge Shagbark Hickories that line the park’s western edge. Summer birds, including the tiny warblers and other new arrivals, are singing lustily to establish their territories and attract interested females as they begin to build nests. Butterflies are just starting to dance above the greenery in the dry meadows. And the hibernators – like snappers, raccoons and  leopard frogs – get back in action after their winter snooze. The transformation from spring to summer has well and truly begun.

Birds and Blooms in the Large Sunny Meadows

Small Yellow Warblers (Setophaga petechia) welcome visitors from the high treetops just north of the parking lot. The male with his chestnut-striped breast sings his “sweet-sweet, I’m a little sweet” song as he darts here and there, frequently out of sight in the greenery. Luckily a female with much fainter stripes ignored me while probing for insects in some smaller trees.

A female Yellow Warbler probed the branches of a small tree near the western entrance to the park.

At the edge of the big northern meadow one afternoon, I heard the two buzz call that Ben identified on an earlier birdwalk. As I scanned the bushes with my binoculars, a lovely Blue-Winged Warbler (Vermivora cyanoptera) filled my view. By the time I raised the camera, it was gone. Joan Bonin, a gifted local photographer and birder, kindly offered her stunning photo taken a week later at Port Huron State Recreation Area.  Thank you, Joan!

This gorgeous photo of a Blue-Winged Warbler was taken by local birder and photographer extraordinaire, Joan Bonin.

Red-eyed Vireo (Vireo olivaceus) made a brief appearance in a small meadow opening at the edge of a forested wetland. Evidently these little birds sing incessantly, especially on warm summer afternoons. In fact, Cornell reports that one determined male “sang 22,197 songs in the 14 hours from just before dawn to evening, singing for 10 of those hours.” I missed both his song and a photo, but another gifted local photographer and birder, Bob Bonin (Joan’s husband), kindly shared his lovely photo taken at the Tawas migration site last year. Thanks to Bob, also!

Local photographer Bob Bonin’s fine shot of a Red-eyed Vireo taken at the Tawas  migration site last May.

Steve, a fine birder that I met at Bear Creek Park, commented on the last blog that he’d seen an Indigo Bunting (Passerina cyanea) at Cranberry Lake in the last two weeks.   Cornell ornithologists report that all blue birds actually have no blue pigment in their feathers. “Their jewel-like color comes instead from microscopic structures in the feathers that refract and reflect blue light, much like the airborne particles that cause the sky to look blue.” Since Steve saw the bird and I didn’t, here’s that  bright little piece of sky in another beautiful shot by Bob Bonin.

Indigo Buntings sing as many as 200 of their two or three phrase songs per hour at dawn according to Cornell Lab.

Butterflies dance across nearly every sunny or dappled area of Cranberry Lake. In a shady corner near the northern meadow, an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) paused for just a moment before sailing high into the treetops and away. The band of blue spots at the bottom of the hindwing (plus the orange center spots) marks this one as a female.

A female Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly paused in the shade before fluttering off into the treetops.
Black Raspberry blooms

A smaller, but equally striking butterfly, the American Copper, sampled the blossoms of Common Blackberry bushes (Rubus allagheniensis) that have multiplied mightily since the recent burn.

According to Wikipedia, the male Coppers set up “small territories which they will defend vigorously against rival males or indeed any unlucky passing insect. Even the shadow of a large bird passing overhead is enough to elicit a response.”

It’s clear where this medium-sized [edit:  My memory failed me.  It’s actually very small!] butterfly  got its name, eh?

An American Copper butterfly rests on a grass stem between the multiplying Blackberry bushes.

This female Eastern Tailed-Blue butterfly (Cupido comyntas) doesn’t wear the beautiful blue that her mate flashes when he flies. But you can still see a bit of blue in her modest gray. These medium-sized butterflies almost disappear when they land and fold their wings, which are light gray underneath.

A female Eastern Tailed-blue butterfly is a more muted gray-blue than her brighter blue mate.

Along the Hickory Lane, More Bird Song and Early Summer Blossoms

On an early bird walk, a Brown Thrasher (Toxostoma rufum) belted out its complex mimicry song from the top of a tree on the Hickory Lane. If you enjoy the Gray Catbird’s mix of other birds’ calls and the odd noise,  you’ll love (as I do) the crazy mix of continuous loud song from the thrasher. That morning he was too high up for a good photo. Fortunately  a few days later, a tired thrasher, preparing for sleep on a cool spring evening at Gallagher Park, struck a pose for me.

This Brown Thrasher was preparing to sleep on a cool evening – one leg tucked up under his feathers which were fluffed for warmth

Along the lane,  a tiny mimic (listen to the second recording at this link), the Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher (Polioptila caerulea), busily fluttered and hopped about a tree trunk foraging for insects. How I’d love to see their nest!  Cornell Lab says they “use spiderweb and lichens to build small, neat nests, which sit on top of branches and look like tree knots.”

The Blue-gray Gnatcatcher cocks his tail with its white outer feathers this way and that as he searches for insects – but not many gnats, despite its name!

On a later visit, a male House Wren (Troglodytes aedon), bubbled with spring song. Despite their diminutive size, wrens can be fierce in asserting ownership over a preferred nesting hole, even dragging out eggs of other birds or pecking larger adult birds. Wrens need to maintain a narrow range of temperature for their eggs to hatch which might explain their fierceness over nesting sites. Perhaps this male’s insistent song was just a first salvo in the competition.

The effervescent singing of a House Wren on the Hickory Lane.

In the area between the Hickory Lane and the large marsh to the east, a strange upward sliding call made my husband and I stop and listen one afternoon. We never saw the singing male, but we did spot the female Swainson’s Thrush (Catharus ustulatus), that I originally thought was a robin from its stance.  Sorry for the slight blur of a quick photo.

A female Swainson’s thrush stopped with us to listen to the hidden male singing his ascending whistle of a song.

Below these avian songsters, early summer blossoms came burgeoning forth after a recent prescribed burn. The lane was filled on both sides with the Wild Geraniums (Geranium maculatum) you see at the top of this blog. A small white plume poked through leaves of what Ben tells me is either red or white Baneberry (g. Actaea). The actual baneberries that form later are highly toxic, so please don’t eat them! (They’re very bitter so you wouldn’t like them, but children might be tempted because they’re very colorful and shiny.)

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Two varieties of the same flower also bloomed on the lane.  Solomon’s Seal (Polygonatum biforum) produces its blossoms beneath the stem and its leaves are smooth below, unlike a nearly identical plant, Downy Solomon’s Seal (Polygonatum pubescens) that has fuzz on the underside of the leaves.

Solomon’s Seal hangs its blossoms below the stem, as does Downy Solomon’s Seal but the undersides of leaves on Solomon’s Seal are not covered in downy fuzz.

False Solomon’s Seal (Maianthemum racemosum), on the other hand, produces its flowers on a stem that stands above the leaves. Odd name. Perhaps the name was given by someone fooled into thinking at first that it was Solomon’s Seal? Who knows….

False Solomon’s Seal carries its blossoms on a stem above the leaves.

Early Summer in the Shadowy Wetlands near Cranberry Lake

Cranberry Lake has a wonderful collection of vernal pools and woodland ponds as well as the lake itself. I’ve come to love these areas because they are always rich with wildlife, especially birds!

I heard the easily-identified “witchedy, witchedy” call of one of my favorite small migrators, the black-masked Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichas). He was in a favorite location, in low bushes near a wetland. I never got to see the ones that I heard repeatedly at Cranberry Lake, but I saw this one the following week at Charles Ilsley Park.

The Common Yellowthroat sings his “witchedy-witchedy” song from low bushes, usually located near a wetland.

In a forested pool, a Common Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina) had draped its head over the edge of a log, evidently eating plants below. At first, I thought it had been beheaded somehow! But on hearing me crunching in the twigs, it lifted its pointed snout into the air, quickly slid backwards into the water and disappeared. So all I got was this odd, headless shot.

A snapper in a forest pond with its head submerged eating plant material, no doubt.

A few minutes later, a male Common Grackle’s (Quiscalus quiscula) iridescent head shone in a ray of sunlight on the same log. Clearly frustrated at finding nothing to eat beneath it, he tossed that irritating, useless chunk of bark into the water.

A male Common Grackle tossed his chunk of bark into the water after checking and finding no edible insects underneath. At least that’s how it appeared.

One of summer’s pleasures is being escorted along a trail by dragonflies and damselflies – and then I managed to shoot one swooping over the water when I reached at Cranberry Lake.  Perhaps a mating flight?

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In April, lovely little blossoms with pink scallops and ruffled edges emerged on the native Highbush Blueberry (Vaccinium corymbosum) near Cranberry Lake. A few weeks later, the fruit was beginning to form. I hope birds, animals and we humans leave some berries uneaten so it keeps spreading!

When I reached Cranberry Lake, I found two Sandhill Cranes (Antigone canadensis) standing on a sandbar near the shore. One of them “gave me the eye” between the old stems of purple loosestrife.

A Sandhill Crane at Cranberry Lake turns a wary eye my way

On the way back up the trail from the lake one morning, Ben spotted a weary raccoon who appeared to have made a hasty bed in the fork of a tree after a night of foraging. It opened one eye as we birders peered from below.

A weary raccoon opens one eye to look back at us from what appears to be a hastily constructed napping place.

On the edge of the path heading toward one of the large meadows, I heard the snoring rattle of the Leopard Frog’s song coming from a nearby wetland. And then, oops! – one appeared right in the path between two wet areas. Nice to have frog song along with bird song on a summer walk!

The Leopard Frog’s appearance nicely matches its name. Its song is a low, snoring sort of rattle – very distinctive.

Nature by Ear as Well as by Eye

The forest pond where the Grackle and the Snapping Turtle spent a quiet afternoon.

To truly savor the pleasures of nature in early summer requires tuning my ears as well as opening my eyes. Though I’m just learning bird songs and frog songs, every time I identify a voice in nature’s chorus, I feel more connected, more embedded in the natural world. Listening, as well as careful, patient watching, begins to turn a green landscape into an intricately woven tapestry of life in which we humans are just one colorful thread.

Footnote: My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Stokes Nature Guides: A Guide to Bird Behavior Volumes 1-3; Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia;  Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela; other sites as cited in the text.