Cooper’s Hawk

Watershed Ridge Park: Virtual Hike #2 in a Pathless Park

/ Cam Mannino / Leave a comment

Welcome back to Watershed Ridge Park for our second virtual hike through this as yet pathless 170 acre park.  (If you missed the first hike, click here.) This week’s exploration will take us to the western area of the park, which is a little easier to explore than the east.  Starting in 2016, Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township natural areas stewardship manager, started habitat restoration in old farm fields which had grown into thickets of invasive shrubs. Forestry mowing eliminated the standing shrubs, and follow-up treatment and brush mowing  knocked back the invasive plants and shrubs in this area of Watershed Ridge. He then sowed in some wonderful native plants, including grasses which add a golden sheen right now to the upland slopes in the west of the park, as you’ll see a bit further into our walk.

WRP_AerialMap_Hikes2

Aerial map of Watershed Ridge in 2017. Hikes 1 in yellow. Hike 2 in red.

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

Starting from the parking lot on W. Buell Road (A), we’ll walk along the grassy edge (B) between two fields and head back into the woods to pay a visit to a pond full of singing frogs (C). Emerging from the woodland edge, we’ll enter a big, wild meadow that slopes to a small marsh (D). We’ll follow the forest stream from last week’s hike that burbles its way out of the large marsh to the park’s northeast (H).   It meanders from marsh to marsh before exiting under Lake George Road (E). Our return will take through the western farm fields (F,G) and back to the parking lot. So please, lace up your virtual boots and join me!

The Woods Filled with Frog Song!

As I headed out of the parking lot to the north one afternoon, a Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) advised me from deep in a tangle of vines,  to “Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer up!”  (Listen to the Cardinal under “Duet” at Cornell Lab.)

A Northern Cardinal amid a tangle of branches at Watershed Ridge.

Feeling even better than I did when I arrived – thanks to his greeting – I headed toward the woods north of the field to my right. Halfway there I realized that the ice had melted in the wetlands since my last visit, because I heard…frog song!

A wetland full of singing Wood Frogs at Watershed Ridge.

Arriving at the muddy edge of the pool, I spotted the concentric ripples that I was looking for. At the center of each was a Wood Frog (Lithobates sylvaticus). Wood Frogs spend the winter frozen solid under a log or in leaf litter. Miraculously, they thaw out as the weather warms and rush to nearby water to mate. Imagine how good it felt for this little frog to be stretched out floating at the surface on a spring day. The one below was just beginning to kick and recreate the ripples around him.

When mating, Wood Frogs float on the surface of the water and make a chuckling call to each other.

The whole throng of amorous Wood Frogs floated with their legs extended and kicked their back legs occasionally which kept the concentric circles ripping outward. Vernal pools tend to dry in warm, summer weather so the frogs start to mate quickly in early spring. They benefit from the absence of fish in vernal pools who might make a nice meal of the frogs’ eggs if they were present. Throughout the process of my observations, Wood Frogs make a throaty chuckling sound, as if they are as amused as I am by the whole spectacle.

Out of the Woods and Into the Big Meadow!

The big sloping, meadow that appears as you step out of the woods has been in the process of restoration for several years. Now in early spring, the meadow is sere, brownish gold and easy to traverse since winter snow tamped down last year’s stalks and new growth has barely begun. The marsh at the bottom of the slope (D) is edged in scarlet stands of Red Osier (Cornus sericea). This wetland is fed by the stream that runs out of the much larger marsh (H)  in the northeast section of the park.

Pano Meadow at WR (3)

The sloping Big Meadow in golden hues on a spring day.

In the summer, the Big Meadow is a challenging hike because the native grasses and wildflowers can grow waist-to-shoulder high. A view of the water is even more obscured in warm weather when the shrubs that surround the marsh leaf out. But what a glorious sight the meadow is on a summer day! Butterflies, dragonflies, and summer birds flutter, zip and soar above its changing summer palette of emerging wildflowers.

Ben’s panorama of the Big Meadow in August of 2017.

The Dry Uplands of the Big Meadow and Water Meandering Out of the Marsh

The upland slopes of the Big Meadow seeded during restoration with native Virginia Wild Rye

What’s loveliest about the uplands of the Big Meadow right now is the golden glow of large stands of Virginia Wild Rye (Elymus virginicus), a native grass that the stewardship crew seeded onto these graceful slopes.

Virginia Wild Rye , a native grass, sown by our stewardship crew as part of restoring the west side of the park.

The uplands of the Big Meadow are dotted by a variety of trees.  One of my new favorites has three different common names: Hop-hornbeam, Ironwood or Musclewood (Ostrya virginiana).  I love the latter because doesn’t the wood look like a muscular arm?

The trunk tells me why one common name for this tree is Musclewood.

I came across something in the uplands that I hadn’t seen before and didn’t initially identify. It think it was a deer rub, a spot on a tree where a deer has rubbed the area between its forehead and antlers. The sweat glands there will deposit a scent during the annual rut in order to “communicate a challenge to other male deer,” as Wikipedia puts it. The bark certainly looks like it’s been torn upward from below. If a naturalist or  hunter has any other idea about  how this shredded bark happened, though, please educate me!

What I think is a deer rub on a tree at the edge of the woods.

On a visit to the uplands on a sunny day in early March, I was surprised to find a patch of orange, gilled mushrooms. Mushrooms when the ice had barely started to clear from the marshes? My helpful friends at the Mushroom Identification Facebook page identified them for me as Flammulina velutipes, commonly called Winter Mushroom. According to the website fungusfactfriday, “it particularly likes warm spells in the winter and cold snaps during other seasons.” Though it’s theoretically edible, it’s evidently easily confused with a highly toxic mushroom called Gallerina marginata. So unless you are an expert, don’t try these if they show up on your own property.  And please don’t pick any mushrooms in our parks; they are a food source for squirrels and other animals. I found more detailed information on these fungi at a  University of Wisconsin website.

Winter Mushrooms at Watershed Ridge Park are theoretically edible but easily confused with another highly toxic one – so beware! And please don’t pick mushrooms in our parks.

Down near the marsh, the stream that found its way from the large northeast marsh moves on. It runs west at the bottom of the meadow, leaving a soft muddy surface perfect for the earliest of spring wildflowers, Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus). These strange,  pungent blossoms rise just above the mud; the stems remain below. This ancient and almost alien-looking flower produces temperatures from 27-63 °F, which assists the plant’s reproduction in a couple ways. The heat melts the snow around the emerging mottled hood (spathe). Early pollinators – flies and some bees – are attracted to the carrion-like smell which the heat carries out of the plant. The plant also provides them with a warm refuge from the cold – and while inside, the insects pollinate the flowers on the spike (spadix). Skunk cabbages are an ancient plant and live a long time because their roots contract each year, pulling the stems deeper into the soil. So as Wikipedia notes, ” in effect [skunk cabbage} grows downward, not upward”!  How’s that for an amazing feature!

Skunk cabbage blossoms and perhaps the emergence of their big green leaves?The stems grow underground.  Year after year the roots contract and pull them deeper into the soil.

Before long the flowers will wither, but huge green leaves will emerge, using photosynthesis to provide the energy for the underground growth. Here’s what the leaves looked like at a wetland in Bear Creek a few years ago.

As the blossom withers, the green leaves emerge to feed underground growth.

Near the edge of the marsh, a deer had met its end, probably serving to feed the coyote pups or the adults that I heard in the eastern woods last week. Not being a hunter, I’d never looked closely at deer teeth before. These were accompanied by a skull and some ribs; no doubt both the coyotes and the crows had picked them clean. A strange, melancholy sight, but then deer are so over abundant here that I don’t begrudge the coyotes a good meal at the end of a long winter.

A skull, ribs and these strange teeth tell of a coyote foraging for its family near the marsh.

The stream keeps flowing west toward Lake George Road through a drainage ditch excavated by a farmer at some point in the past. Leaving the meadow, it carves its way into the woods, creating mini-ravines that I needed to navigate in order to keep exploring. Along the edge of these ditches, trees have adapted in a variety of odd ways, like the snail-shaped tree (right below). Some of this flow, Ben says, will be strategically plugged in upcoming wetland restoration work, and in some wet parts of the western farm fields small berms will be placed to slow down water running off the fields, allowing the water to recreate the shallow ponds and saturated soil of years ago.  [Click to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.}

Eventually, the water finds its way into a small marsh right at the edge of Lake George Road (E on the map), between W. Buell and Stony Creek Roads. On the left is the view of the marsh from Lake George Road, the way I’ve seen it since childhood when I rode my bike past it. On the right is the view I finally got after 60 years or so – looking east from the wooded slope of  Watershed Ridge Park toward the road. A fun moment for me.

Looking east toward the small marsh from Lake George Road
Looking west from the woods inside the park across the small marsh

The stream runs under Lake George Road, taking a turn as it flows west toward Paint Creek. And in the shallows, multiple blossoms of Skunk Cabbage popped up like small bouquets from the muddy soil. A fine spring display!

Skunk cabbage cropping up within the stream as it flows past Lake George Road

Heading Back through Steeply Rolling Farm Fields

Wetland, farm field and woods – three basic elements of Watershed Ridge Park

Stepping out of the woods, into a farm field in the west of the park (F), I carefully negotiated my path across a small stream and around a little wetland, when I saw a small brown bird sail into some shrubs nearby. It turned out to be a returning  Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia); you can discern the spot at the center of its striped upper breast. This may have been a tired male scouting territory, since it wasn’t singing its spring song of several bouncy notes followed by a trill. Cornell Lab of Ornithology recordings demonstrate that Song Sparrows in other parts of the country sing somewhat different versions of the spring song. So I guess some birds have “dialects,” too!

A Song Sparrow’s field marks are a striped upper breast with a dark spot at the center.

This is one of the fields that the Ben hopes to slowly restore with the prairie plants that were here before European settlement. Wet areas and steep slopes that erode when tilled to expose bare soil will be planted with deep-rooted native grasses and wildflowers. Prairie plants provide food and cover for all kinds of birds and butterflies so those sloping hills will be not only a gorgeous sight,  but productive as habitat. Portions of the western fields and the big fields on the east side of the park, however, will continue to be farmed.

A beautifully shaped Eastern Cottonwood Tree (Populus deltoides) graces the edge of this field if you walk up the tree line – or if you see it at a distance as you head north from the parking lot. I love the delicate tracery of the branches now and wonder if it will look as beautiful to me once it’s leafed out. I’ll let you know.

The beautiful architecture of a Cottonwood Tree at one edge of a farm field at Watershed Ridge.

In the field nearest the road intersection (G), a small wetland provides a good spot to look for birds.  One shiny, late afternoon,  my husband and I spotted a crouching Killdeer within the glare off the water. I think it must have been a loner without a nest  yet, since it didn’t immediately fly away, keening its high-pitched call over the fields. 

The Killdeer was hard to see amidst the glitter of late afternoon sun – which seemed fine with bird who stayed perfectly still.

After stumbling into the open through some feet-snagging brambles between fields on another day, I startled a solitary Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) who’d settled peacefully on the little pond.

A Mallard lifts off from the small vernal pool in the corner of the field at Buell and Lake George.

And farther up the hill, I missed getting a photo of two Sandhill Cranes that must have been feeding there. Frustrating! But then, overhead, a Cooper’s Hawk sailed right above me and I just managed to get my camera pointed upward in time! A lovely compensation for scaring off three beautiful birds!

And with that lovely finale, I headed back to my car.

Nature’s Uncomplicated Generosity

A daytime moon over a farmed field at Watershed Ridge Park.

Thanks for traveling with me this week and last at Watershed Ridge Park. I still want to explore the eastern woods, but I’ll probably wait until drier weather to find my way around the large wetland there. And I’m anxious to see if the deer have left any woodland wildflowers in those moist woods. So perhaps May will be a time for Virtual Hike #3 at Watershed Ridge. We’ll see.

The moon over the field seems to be taking an afternoon nap with its cheek resting on a pillow of blue sky.

A friend of many years recently wrote that lovely phrase “nature’s uncomplicated generosity” when describing the solace of the wild. She let me borrow it here because it expresses two qualities I always appreciate when under a big sky – especially one with a sleepy moon in it! Wildness exists purely in the present moment; it doesn’t regret the past or anticipate the future. It just is. When we venture into nature, it offers itself to our senses with no real effort and yet is generous enough to sustain a continuous flow of experiences. For the hours I’m out exploring, my attention is drawn from one detail to the next, crowding out all the noisy thoughts that normally push me through the day. If you can get out in the fresh air in any way during this self-enforced exile, please do. Putter in your early spring garden, let a breeze cool your cheeks near an open window or outside your back door. Or during this solitary time, hike on the path that poet Robert Frost eventually chose, the one “less traveled by.” I think you’ll find, as I do, that it can make “all the difference.”

Draper Twin Lake Park: A Patchwork of Habitats

/ Cam Mannino / 1 Comment

I never know what I’m going to see or hear when I head into Draper Twin Lake Park. A large marsh separates the park’s two halves. If I start in the west side of the park, the shady trail is lined with moisture-loving plants and ends up at the fishing dock by the blue expanse of the lake.  If I park at the maintenance building  in the eastern half of the park, I ponder whether to circle left, passing a floating mat marsh, or head straight north to the beautiful restored prairie.

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

All the choices are good ones, so let me share what’s blooming, buzzing and singing in Draper’s quilt of habitats. And then you can do your own choosing some summer afternoon.

The Western Section:  A Shady, Short Stroll to the Lake… or the Case of the Disappearing Wildlife!

Western trail to the fishing Dock at Draper Twin Lakes Park

I feel a bit like the fisherman with his story about the “one that got away” in describing the western side of the park this June. Whether alone or with fellow birders, I heard a lot more than I saw – though some of what I saw was wonderful. You’ll see what I mean…

The trail from the parking lot was green and cool on a hot day. My first encounter was with a small Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) as I came around a bend in the trail. The bunny took one look at me and disappeared into the grass. In a fine article by naturalist Katie McKiernan in the Seven Ponds Nature Center newsletter, I learned more about the phrase “breed like rabbits.” The Cottontail female is usually pregnant while nursing her previous litter! They mate from March to August, so I’m guessing female rabbits look forward to the autumn! Since this year’s bunny dashed off without a selfie, here’s one from a few years ago that has the morning sun shining through its ears .

A young Eastern Cottontail with the sun shining through its ears

High in the treetops, hidden among the leaves, I could hear the signature  “Drink Your Teeeeea” song of the Eastern Towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus). Here’s my recording. You may need to turn up your volume a bit.

Despite some serious neck craning, neither I nor my fellow birders could spot any of the four we heard. But here’s a photo of one singing at Draper in 2017. All this lush foliage from the heavy rain is amazing, but not always the best for bird spotting!

An Eastern Towhee singing from a snag at Draper in 2017.

On a bird walk back in March of this year, the birding group was excited to see a pair of Cooper’s Hawks (Accipiter cooperii) in a bare tree near the lake.  We’d seen one near a nest there in 2016 and wondered if they had returned to nest near the lake again. What an impressive bird!

A Cooper’s hawk in March whose nest looked unfinished in June.

However, construction on a new house near the park border was making a lot of noise that morning and we wondered if that would affect their nesting. On my June trip, I hoped to see one, but wasn’t optimistic since we hadn’t spotted them with the bird group in April or May. While looking for the elusive Towhee, I caught site of a large, saucer-shaped nest high in a White Pine. The nest was difficult to see from every direction, a choice spot from a bird’s point of view..

What I think is a Cooper’s Hawk nest that had been abandoned by the pair that was here in March.

The nest didn’t look used; in fact it didn’t look as though it had been completed. Perhaps another missing creature? If this is the hawks’ abandoned nest, let’s hope they found a peaceful spot farther from the sounds of hammers and nails.

Luckily, other wildlife and some elegant plants did appear along the way to the lake. Lush purple native Spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis) bloomed in the dappled light under the trees. What appeared to be a Metallic Green Sweat Bee (genus Agapostemon) was gathering pollen on its hind legs. The contrast of the bright yellow pollen against the purple blossom must be a great signal to pollinators!

A Sweat Bee busily collects pollen on its hind legs in the center of native Spiderwort.

And nearby, I was delighted to see a bee among the drooping, elegant blooms of Tall Meadow Rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum). Since this pollinator seemed to be collecting pollen by smoothing it across its abdomen, it may have been a Leafcutter Bee (family Apocrita).

A bee spreading pollen on its abdomen, a characteristic of Leafcutter Bees.

I just have to show you this whole plant. Isn’t Tall Meadow Rue striking with its drooping pom poms?

Tall Meadow Rue makes a dramatic statement in moist shade.

As I neared the lake, I was greeted by a stand of giants, plants 4-8 feet tall with huge leaves. It turns out to be Cow Parsnip (Heracleum maxiumum), a plant that hosts huge numbers of bees, wasps, beetles and flies over the course of the summer. It’s a biennial which means it produces leaves, stems and roots one year, then flowers and seeds the next. Cow Parsnip can cause blisters or iritation if its sap on your skin is exposed to bright sunlight. But according to Wikipedia, Native Americans found many uses for it medicinally such as poultices from the roots for swelling or bruises and mosquito repellent from crushed leaves. They even made children’s flutes from this plant after removing the outer surface. Sounds like this beautiful and statuesque plant is best seen in its natural setting, though, not in my garden!

The 4-8 foot tall Cow Parsnip is gorgeous and host many pollinators, but its sap can cause sever blisters when affected skin is exposed to sunlight.

Down by Draper Lake, the Fragrant Water Lilies were beginning to bloom. The dragonflies will find them a great courting platform in the days to come, I imagine.

Fragrant Water Lilies on Draper Twin Lake

And among the aquatic plants near the fishing deck, a pair of Banded Pennant dragonflies (Celithemis fasciata) were already busy mating. The male clings to the stem and holds the head of the female. She clings to him, while curving her abdomen upward to receive the sperm. According to Wikipedia, this posture is appropriately called the heart or circle shape.

Banded Pennant dragonflies make a heart shape as they mate.

Since these dragonflies are in the Skimmer family (Libelluidae), the female will lay her eggs by “tapping the surface of the water repeatedly with her abdomen, by shaking the eggs out of her abdomen as she flies along, or by placing the eggs on vegetation.”

On the way back from lake, the birders and I saw an energetic little Chipping Sparrow (Spizella passerina) moving through the small trees. These small, pert sparrows with their chestnut cap and black eyeline prefer treed areas with open, grassy spaces – so you may have some on your lawn if you look closely!

Chipping Sparrows like to nest in treed areas with sunny grass for foraging. Your lawn might do!

A solitary walk one hot afternoon allowed me to share a moment with a young American Robin (Turdus migratorius). Where removal of invasive shrubs last year left some damp, open ground, the youngster landed and looked around. A Gray Catbird (Dumetella carolinensis) hiding in the shrubbery nearby sang its charming conversational collection of bird noises. I could never catch the Catbird out on a limb, so the Robin and I just spent a few quiet minutes together listening intently.

A juvenile Robin listens and looks around as a Gray Catbird sings in the shrubbery nearby.

I discovered a modest little summer wildflower peeking out of the grass. Lots of insects drink nectar from the tiny blooms of White Avens (Geum canadense) and the leaves are hosts for the caterpillars of many of them as well.

A modest summer native, White Avens, blooms in the partial sunshine at the edge of the trail.  It hosts many insects even though its blooms are tiny.

A Midland Painted Turtle ((Chrysemys picta marginata) sat calmly tucked within its shell in the middle of the path as I headed back to the parking lot. I’m guessing it was a female looking for bare ground in which to dig a hole and lay her eggs. Though it wasn’t an ideal spot, I kept my opinion to myself and I left her to it.

A Midland Painted Turtle sat in the path, perhaps looking for bare ground in which to lay her eggs.

The Eastern Section:  A Longer Hike Among the Winged Beauties of a Sunny, Flowering Prairie

The Northern Prairie in June never disappoints!

No question about which path to take this month! One Sunday, my husband and I headed straight out to the restored prairie, excited to see what was blooming and buzzing. Again this year, what a delight! Under a bright, blue sky, the slightest breeze made the thigh-high grass and wildflowers bow and sway to the musical accompaniment of bird song. What could be better?

On the Way to the Prairie

As we walked north, the music was supplied by two bright yellow birds. A male American Goldfinch at the tip of a snag trilled his quick, syncopated song that always seems to include a couple of loud “tweets.” And farther away, near the small marsh to the west, we spotted the Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichas) who is more common this year than ever! The male loves to sing his “witchedy” song from shrubs or low limbs near a wetland. (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

At our feet on the entrance path, a small American Painted Lady politely sat for her portrait in the short grass.

American Painted Ladies have only a 2 inch wingspan – but what a brilliant design!

The Common Ringlet (Coenonympha tullia), an even smaller butterfly at less than an inch a half, was fluttering from one grass stem to another on the path, perhaps to thwart being snatched by a dragonfly or other predator. Finally it settled for more than a split second. Nice barbershop stripes on the antennae!

The orange and gray Common Ringlet moves quickly in the grass, probably to avoid predators like the dragonflies.

Birds of  Various Sizes on the Prairie, including One Difficult Invasive Species

Reaching the prairie, I knelt among the tall grasses and wildflowers to take a shot and suddenly noticed the thin, gray neck and head of a Sandhill Crane (Antigone canadensis) just above the flower tops.

A Sandhill Crane appeared over the edge of a slope as it looked back at its two companions.

Actually, we ultimately saw three of them stalking slowly just under the crest of the flowering slope. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology informs me that in our region,  juveniles stay with their parents until they nest again in April or May and then form foraging groups with other juveniles out on their own. Since these birds had adult plumage and were similar in size, I’m guessing this group may have been just such a cohort of young Sandhills.

On top of the hill, a female Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis) defended her nest, perhaps from invasive House Sparrows (Passer domesticus). This Eurasian species, once called “English Sparrows,” have been ravaging some of the prairie nest boxes. Volunteer nest box monitors have found boxes with beheaded nestlings, an attack typical of House Sparrows, which compete with our native cavity nesting birds. House Sparrows can ruin the eggs or kill the young of bluebirds, tree swallows and other cavity nesters. When we find a box with eggs, Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Nestwatch program asks us to remove or addle them to help control the burgeoning House Sparrow population. Since they are so widespread and have such a harmful affect on native birds, they’re considered an invasive species and are not protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. So although it makes us more than a bit squeamish, we monitors try to comply! (Thanks to iNaturalist photographer avepel for the House Sparrow photo.)

A female Bluebird defending her nestbox from predators like the House Sparrow.
House Sparrow by avepel (CC BY-NC) at inaturalist.org
A House Sparrow egg removed from the nest by a nestbox monitor

 

On a happier note, a Field Sparrow (Spizella pusilla) found some food for its young in the tall prairie grass, snagging what appeared to be a dragonfly. In my limited experience, Field Sparrows are shy during most of the summer. But when it’s time to lay the eggs and feed the young, they’re good providers and so are a bit more visible. You won’t see Field Sparrows in an urban or suburban setting like House Sparrows; they insist on wide open spaces! As a result, their numbers are currently in decline, so I’m glad we’re preserving prairie for them!

This Field Sparrow found a dragonfly to take back to the nest which is probably in a low shrub nearby..

An Eastern Phoebe (Sayornis phoebe) flew to the ground and returned to a branch, its tail characteristically pumping up and down, as it also looked for insects in the tall grass.  I caught it just as it prepared for takeoff.

A Phoebe about to take off after an insect at the edge of the prairie.

Dramatic Dragonflies, Tiny Pollinators, and Other Unfortunate Eggs

More native summer wildflowers bloom with each passing day as the restored prairie comes to full bloom. The color and scent are attracting little pollinators and the dragonflies looking for lunch! These three native wildflowers were planted as part of the prairie restoration and are particular favorites of mine.

With my birding partners, I saw my first ever Calico Pennant dragonfly (Celithemis elisa) along the prairie loop path. Wow! We were all pretty impressed with this creature! The bright orange abdomen indicates a male and a young one, since the yellow spots near the wing tips turn red as they mature.

A young male Calico Pennant dragonfly landed on a grass stem on the prairie’s loop path.

The elegant Widow Skimmer dragonfly (Libellula luctuosa) landed along the loop path as well. The yellow and black abdomen indicates that it’s a juvenile and the just-developing white patches beside the dark wing patch means that this one is a juvenile male. With the birders, I saw another juvenile at a similar stage and when I got home, wondered if we’d seen one who’d narrowly escaped a predator. It seemed to be managing quite nicely, though, flying with no difficulty among the stalks of prairie grasses.

The Hoverflies (family Syrphidae) were busy finding nectar and inadvertently doing their large share of pollination.

A Hoverfly found a nice shady spot to sip nectar on this Sand Coreopsis

Another little Hoverfly clasped the stamen of a non-native Common St. John’s Wort  (Hypericum perforatum) blossom as it drank nectar. Dr. Parsons, the entomologist who helped me with hoverflies, says that hoverfly mouthparts are not like the long sipping straws of butterflies. Instead their mouthparts are soft with a hairy tip that sponges up nectar so that the mouth at the end of tip can draw it in. Normally the mouthparts are folded under the head, but they extend them like this little one is doing to reach for food. They can also liquify pollen with their saliva and drink it up as well. No wonder they distribute so much pollen!

A Hoverfly drinking nectar from a non-native wildflower

One of the nest monitors reported seeing a Snapping Turtle ((Chelydra serpentina) laying eggs on the west edge of the north prairie. But when my husband and I came across a turtle nest along the western side, some hungry animal – perhaps a raccoon or coyote –  had dug the eggs up for a meal. I can’t be sure we saw the Snapper’s nest. The egg remains look small enough to perhaps be those of a Painted Turtle or the much rarer Blanding’s Turtle (Emys blandingii ) that one of our bird monitors has seen twice on the trails as well.

A turtle nest robbed by a predator.

And down in the short grass, a small Amber Snail (family Succineidae) moved languidly along the path, oblivious of all the prairie drama above. Isn’t it interesting that they have eyes on the end of those translucent tentacles on their heads?

An Amber Snail whose eyes are at the end of the transparent tentacles on its head..

Nature Asks that We Love It, Warts and All

Sand Coreopsis in summer sunshine on Draper prairie

It’s a temptation to romanticize who and what we love, isn’t it? For me, nature’s always been full of creativity, beauty, harmony – and I’m not wrong about that. Watch a cardinal stuff a seed into its mates beak to woo her. Or see a a mother raccoon cope with a treeful of young after a long night of foraging. Or learn how trees feed their young through the miraculous network of ancient underground fungi.

But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to accept that there’s a fierceness to nature, too – not just tornadoes and floods but everyday survival fierceness: an empty turtle nest; the caterpillar that consumes its live host; an owl swooping down on a baby rabbit; a dragonfly snatched by a field sparrow.

And then there are burgeoning invasive species introduced by humans:  the house sparrow’s predation, the bittersweet vine choking the life out of trees, the zebra mussels changing the environment of the Great Lakes.

Nature’s solutions to life’s endless challenges and change may not always be pretty, but they have sustained our kind and all life on this planet for millennia. Each time I venture out into the natural world, I’m being shown the importance of honoring and preserving the complex, carefully balanced, interwoven systems that nature has worked out over eons. Until recently, humans were blind to those finely tuned systems and we have unwittingly done serious harm to them in multiple ways. But now we are beginning to see and understand what we’ve done. Now we know that these delicately balanced relationships can be restored if we have the will to do so. I’m glad our small green corner of the planet has made a commitment to doing just that.

Enjoying an Evening of Turtles, Salamanders, Frogs and, oh yeah, a Rattlesnake!

/ Cam Mannino / Leave a comment

Last Thursday, Ben VanderWeide, our township stewardship manager, hosted a well-attended event on rare/endangered “herps” (Herpetofauna), that is, amphibians and reptiles.

Blog and photos by Cam Mannino

Blog and photos by
Cam Mannino

At this time of year, talking about snakes, turtles, salamanders and frogs may seem a bit odd to you.  Actually though,  the Herpetology expert and presenter, David Mifsud of Herpetological Resource Management (HRM), told us that he sees Spring Peepers, Eastern Garter Snakes and Red-backed Salamanders moving around in Michigan winters when temperatures warm up as they have lately.    So for starters, here are three that he says we might look for during this winter thaw:

 

Garter snake closeup GC

Eastern Garter Snakes (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis) may be moving on warm winter days.

red-backed-salamander-1

You could see a Red-backed Salamander (Plethodon cinereus) in a vernal pool created by snow melt.

Spring Peeper largest size

Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer) can occasionally be heard/seen on a warm winter day.

And even if you don’t see one of these herps “in person” this winter, it’s just pleasant to think about springtime creatures in the dead of winter, right?  So here’s a brief trip through some of the important and lively information that David shared with about 30 of us last Thursday night.

Note:  Because some of these creatures are rare, some of the photos this week are courtesy of photographers at iNaturalist.org.  Please check the captions for names of these gifted people and many thanks to Creative Commons, iNaturalist and these photographers for sharing their work!

How Important are Amphibians and Reptiles?  Let Me Count the Ways…

  • Canaries in the coal mine. Amphibians and reptiles accumulate toxins and other contaminates in their bodies and most live both in water and on land.  So they are effective gauges (bio-indicators) of what’s getting into both environments.
  • Many eat invasive species.  For example,  the very homely Mudpuppy (Necturus maculosus), an aquatic salamander, favors eating invasive Zebra Mussels (Dreissena polymorpha) and  invasive Brown Gobies (Neogobius melanostomus), both huge problems in the Great Lakes. I grant you  this much-maligned aquatic salamander is not pretty. But it’s eating these invasive species, crayfish, worms,  and insect larvae! There’s no evidence that they reduce game fish populations (see Harding 1997). So please!  Return them with care to the water if you catch them on your hooks winter or summer.
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Mudpuppies eat invasive species not game fish. Photo by Marcus Rosten CC-BY. I lightened and cropped slightly.

  • Predator and Prey. Herps can be both predator and prey, meaning they’re important in nature’s food web.  For example, dragonflies, like the Widow Skimmer (Libellula luctuosa) on the left below,  lay eggs in vernal pools.  The  nymphs that hatch feed on the eggs of salamanders who deposit their eggs on sticks in vernal pools, as seen in the center photo.  But when the Tiger Salamander (Ambystoma tigrinum) on the right – an inhabitant mostly of western and southern Michigan –  reaches adulthood,  it in turn eats dragonflies.  This kind of food cycle helps keep a healthy balance between predator and prey in the ecosystem and builds the ladder system of the food web.
  • Our natural heritage. And of course, these creatures deserve our care because they are native to the habitats which are our natural heritage. And just as we preserve historic homes, we need to preserve the habitats for plants and animals that share our natural inheritance.
  • Just because. These beautiful creatures deserve a place to call home too!

And the Prognosis for Michigan Herps?  Uh, Not So Good…

Unfortunately, in Michigan and the Great Lakes Region, more than half of our species of amphibians and reptiles are declining. Why?

  • Amphibians and reptiles spend time on land and in the water. So those pollutants and contaminants that they accumulate, making them bio-indicators, can also kill them. Plastic beads in beauty products, pesticides from lawns and agriculture, hormones from our medicines in waste water, and agricultural run-off can affect these creatures.
  • Many reptiles have to live a long time in order to mature and reproduce.  The Blanding’s Turtle (Emydoidea blandingii), found in our township,  is listed as a Species of Special Concern in Michigan. It takes up to 20 years for these yellow-chinned turtles to mature enough to produce young and they can live up to 90 years! This one on a road near Draper Twin Lake Park is demonstrating one of the hazards – habitat loss or disruption.  In this case, a road cut through its habitat. If you see a turtle on the road and can safely do so, be sure to move it gently in the direction it was going or it will turn head right back the way it came. Turtles are very focused on getting to and from their breeding grounds!

    Blandings Turtle near Draper

    A Blanding’s Turtle has to survive up to 20 years before it produces young!

  • Creatures with long lives like turtles especially need connected habitat corridors since they require both water and dry land, where they lay their eggs. Here a Common Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina) is laying her eggs high on a sunny slope in Bear Creek before she returns to the pond. She demonstrates a common natural hazard. A female Snapper has a strong scent from living in marshes so it’s easy for predators – like foxes, coyotes, or raccoons – to track down her nest of eggs. And the mounds of earth she leaves behind are a big clue too!
snapper laying eggs

A Snapping Turtle leaves a strong marsh scent on her trail that lead predators, like raccoons, to her nest of eggs.

  • As cute, and as pesky,  as raccoons can be, they are serious predators of amphibians and reptiles and over-populated in some parks. Their numbers are often higher in urban areas than they would be naturally because they are “subsidized” by the food we provide unwittingly, such as our trash and the dog food we leave outside. After racoons leave the feast in your backyard, they return to a local natural area to snack on amphibian and reptile eggs, often causing over 90% nest failure. To keep park environments in balance between predators and prey, please remove food sources from around your home, and don’t transport trapped raccoons or other animals to our parks! 

 

raccoon in hole

Raccoons are efficient predators of “herp” eggs and young. So please don’t transport yours to the parks or we’ll have too many! This one peeked from a tree at Bear Creek.

Of course,  birds and other creatures prey on amphibians and reptiles as well.  This Cooper’s Hawk (Accipiter cooperii) is heading for quite a feast!

cr cooper's hawk with snake

A Cooper’s Hawk prepares to dine on a snake.

  • Unfortunately, salamanders and turtles are sometimes poached from the wild for pets, both by wildlife traffickers and uninformed parents and children. This has had a devastating effect, for instance,  on the very cute and tiny Spotted Turtle (Clemmys guttata) who’s only 3-5 inches long! And the same thing has happened to Box Turtles (Terrapene carolina) and even Common Snappers, which are sold overseas as well as domestically for supposed “medicinal” purposes.
spotted-turtle-cc-no-my-photo

Photo of the tiny Spotted Turtle by Todd Pierson (CC BY-NC-SA) whose numbers have declined due to treating them as pets.

The Leopard Frog (Rana pipiens), which appears in our parks, is also a Species of Special Concern in Michigan due to its declining numbers. This lovely frog with its emerald body and oval spots has unfortunately been poorly studied. So researchers still need to find the reasons for its distress.

leopard frog

The Leopard Frog’s numbers are declining and no one yet knows exactly why.

OK, but what about that Michigan rattlesnake???

emr_andrewhoffman2008_cc-by-nc-nd-3

Photo by Andrew Hoffman CC BY-NA-ND 4.0. No changes were made to the photo.

Most of us have heard of, but never seen, Michigan’s most venomous snake, the Eastern Massasauga Rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus catenatus) (a couple other snakes have weak venom that only causes irritation). This very shy, low-key snake only grows to about 2 feet long. According to Michigan DNR, it has one set of rattles at birth and develops more as it sheds its skin several times each year.  Its head is triangular like most rattlesnakes, though it is the smallest and least venomous rattler in the U.S.  Look also for a vertical eye slit and saddle-shaped spots.

The likelihood of you being bothered by this snake is low.  In 2016 it was listed as a Federally Threatened Species, which means its numbers are becoming drastically low.  And these snakes just want to avoid you. David reports having searched for this snake with a tracking device and after hearing a loud “beep” from his device, found it under the grass between his feet!  As he moved the grass aside, the snake silently slid over his shoe and away. That’s a conflict-avoiding snake! And a herpetologist with nerves of steel, I might add.

So if you do get to see one, consider yourself lucky. Don’t hurt or handle these docile snakes, since folks most often get bitten when harassing a snake that just wants to get away. Many bites are “dry,” meaning no venom. It takes lots of energy for the snake to produce the venom, and it doesn’t want to waste it! But if you get any kind of bite from this snake, see a doctor right away. Luckily, Dave informed us that no one in the US has died from such a bite in 100 years.

In spring, when these snakes are most active, they’re seen near wetlands, but they are likely to move to drier, upland areas in the summer. While they been seen recently at Stony Creek Metro Park in our area, we have no recent sighting in our township parks. Let us know if you see one!

Massasaugas overwinter for up to six months under logs, in small animal burrows and often in the “chimneys” created by crayfish, like this one.

A recently refreshed Crayfish hole among the detritus

A recently refreshed crayfish hole can hold many creatures over the winter, occasionally including Massasauga rattlesnakes.

Evidently, these burrows fill with ground water which maintains a more constant temperature in the winter than above ground – and that’s what important to an animal that can’t control its body temperature internally.  What’s amazing is that they often share these chimneys with other small creatures during the winter when all of them are in hibernation mode.  A kind of winter “condo” as David described it.  Imagine that!

Befriending Our Local Amphibians and Reptiles

Five turtles line up on a log at Bear Creek Nature Park.

The “Von Trapp Family”  Painted Turtles line up on a log at Bear Creek Nature Park.

Our parks are great places to see all kinds of “herps.”  Snappers and painted turtles cruise Bear Creek’s ponds and marshes.  Our wetlands in every park fill with a chorus of frog song every spring.  Snakes bask in sunny spots and quickly disappear into tall grass.  And in moist woodland uplands, salamanders emerge on the first warm night to make their way to vernal pools to mate and lay their eggs.  We need to care for these interesting creatures and their habitats  to be sure that they still thrive in our world when our children or grandchildren go looking for them.

Footnote:  My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: 
Harding, James H. (1997) Amphibians and Reptiles of the Great Lakes Region. iNaturalist.org for periodic photos;Ritland, D. B., & Brower, L. P. (1991); Stokes Nature Guides: A Guide to Bird Behavior Volumes 1-3, Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia; http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org; 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; University of Wisconsin's Bug Lady at www4.uwm.edu/fieldstation/naturalhistory/bugoftheweek/ for insect info; http://www.migrationresearch.org/mbo/id/rbgr.html for migration info; invaluable wildflower identification from local expert, Maryann Whitman and the website www.illinoiswildflowers.info; experienced birder Ruth Glass, bird walk leader at Stoney Creek Metro Park for bird identification; Birds of North America Online; Audubon.org; Nature in Winter by Donald Stokes, Trees in My Forest by Bernd Heinrich, Winter World by Bernd Heinrich, Savannah River Ecology Lab (Univ of Georgia); Tortoise Trust website www.tortoisetrust.org;  An Orchard Invisible: A Natural History of Seeds by Jonathan Silvertown; The Ecology of Plants by Gurevitch, Scheiner and Fox; other sites as cited in the text.

This Week at Bear Creek: Early Summer at Bear Creek – Serenity or Drama, Your Choice

/ Cam Mannino / Leave a comment

How can anyone resist Bear Creek Nature Park in late June?!

Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

Flowers keep offering up more and more color.  Fledglings are trying out their wings and begging their parents for food.  Trees whisper back and forth as the full green leaves of summer rustle and wave, soothing the frayed edges of our lives. But if you’re in the mood for a little excitement, you can always keep an eye out for the little dramas that snakes and other fascinating predators provide.  Some examples:

Find A Little Serenity…

Look at this clear invitation from what I like to call The Lane, the central path in the park lined with Black Walnut trees (Juglans nigra) that I imagine the farmer planted there years ago for nuts, beautiful wood and just their sheer magnificence.

Lane in summer

The central trail in Bear Creek, lined with native Black Walnuts, invites you to wander and explore a summer day.

Up near Gunn Road, there are water trails leading into the marsh where muskrats, ducks, and geese cruise into and out of the reeds in the summer sun.  The curviness of this trail, caught by my husband Reg this week,  makes me think it was made by a muskrat but Ben thinks its width might indicate a goose.  Or maybe a family of ducks?  Anyway, it makes me wish I could follow.

Water trail into the marsh

A trail leads into the marsh where we can’t follow. A muskrat, a goose, a family of ducks? Who knows?

Frog music is part of the charm of a summer day.  The Leopard Frog (Rana pipiens)is out and about now because the breeding season is past and they can wander away from the water.  They are beautiful spotted frogs and for reasons not quite clear, their numbers are falling in Michigan.  So keep an eye out for this emerald green, leopard-spotted frog wherever it’s moist.

leopard frog

The Leopard Frog’s numbers are falling in Michigan. But we do have them at Bear Creek!

The Green Frog Tadpoles (Rana clamitans)in the Center Pond are a-l-l-lmost frogs.  Here’s a nice big fat tadpole with tiny legs that Reg spotted there this week. And the bigger ones in the playground pond are already making their banjo-plucking calls!

tadpole w legs

A Green Frog tadpole in the center pond is developing tiny frog legs.

Insects add a lot of color and grace as they swoop over the meadows and ponds.  Out near the  marsh, you’re likely to see the elegant Widow Skimmers.  Here’s a  male with a black/dark brown band near his body and a white strip farther out on the wing,  but this one is immature.  When he’s fully grown, his abdomen will turn light blue.

Widow Skimmer male

This juvenile male Widow Skimmer has the dark wing band near his body followed by the white band characteristic of males, but his abdomen still has the gold stripes of a juvenile.

The female Widow Skimmer dresses only in somber colors without the white band,  though she shares gold stripes on the abdomen with the juvenile male.

widow skimmer female

The female Widow Skimmer dresses only in somber colors.

A rare sight but one that occurs this time of the year is the appearance of the Baltimore Checkerspot (Euphydryas phaeton), surely the most beautiful of this family of butterflies, called the Brushfoots.  I’ve seen one only once at Bear Creek,  but it was in the third week of June so be on the lookout!  This smaller butterfly (1.75″-2.5″) with orange-tipped antennae is eye-catching from above.

baltimore checkerspot top3

The upper (dorsal) side of the Baltimore Checkerspot is striking against the green grass.

And it’s even more eye-catching on the underside!  See that orange face?

baltimore checkerspot 4

The lower (ventral) side of the Baltimore Checkerspot is even more eye-catching than the upper (dorsal) side! Look at that orange face!

More modest members of the Brushfoot family, but much more common visitors, are the fritillaries.  Here is the smaller one we’re seeing now in June, which I think is the Meadow Fritillary (Boloria bellona), but again, don’t quote me.  (Anyone out there a butterfly expert?)

Meadow Fritillary

The Meadow Fritillary is a smaller, more modest member of the Brushfoot family of butterflies.

Ben tells me that in the woods near the marsh, the fruits of the  Wild Geranium (Geranium maculatum) are now springing open,  flinging out five seeds per plant!  Go geraniums!  While out in the Old Fields of Bear Creek,  native and non-native flowers turn their faces to the sun.  Here’s our native Old Field/Common Cinquefoil (Potentilla simplex) in one of the Native Plant Beds near the shed.

common cinquefoil

Old-Field/Common Cinquefoil is a native wildflower with a very invasive cousin seen below!

And here is its invasive cousin out in the fields, Rough-fruited Cinquefoil (Potentilla recta),  a cultivated version that appears much more often, unfortunately, than our native one!  You’ll see it on the way into the park from Snell Road once you leave the woods.

rough fruited cinquefoil 2

Beware of garden flowers that “naturalize.” What that means is that in the right situation,  they can be invasive like this Rough-Fruited Cinquefoil.

Rough-fruited Cinquefoil’s sharply defined, heart-shaped petals and paler color was no doubt  pretty in its original garden but unfortunately, it  “naturalized,” and is now taking the place of our native Old Field Cinquefoil which is only seen right now in the Native Plant Beds near the shed. Every time that happens, we lose a little of the rich diversity that nature provided us for us here in Oakland Township.

Other invasives aren’t necessarily cultivars,  human-bred plants.  They are  plants from other natural environments that end up here and  get carried away, growing aggressively.  Unfortunately, this applies to the prosaically named but quite pretty  Bladder Campion (Silene vulgarism).  This plant which is actually eaten in certain parts of the world, originated in Eurasia and is now found in Bear Creek on what I call the “Steep Slope Path”  that runs north/south on the western side of the park near Snell.

bladder campion

Bladder Campion, with the descriptive but non-poetic name, is an invasive plant from Eurasia.

However, this little beauty, Deptford Pink (Dianthus armeria), is a Non-Native that exists quite peacefully with our native plants, peeking shyly out among the Big Guys.   There’s some edging their way into the Native Plant Bed in the driveway circle but there’s some to enjoy as well on the path that runs along the west side of the playground pond.

deptford pink

The Deptford Pink is one of those non-native plants that co-exists with our native plants.

Appreciate Nature’s Dramas!

While all this color emerges and the air is filled with bird song, frog music and “tree talk,”  dramas unfold in Bear Creek as well.

Remember those Eastern Raccoons Kits (Procyon lotor) we featured in May?  Well, the mother  (here in a previous year) is in charge of feeding those kits until September.

raccoon in hole

Mother Raccoons need to feed their kits and are on the hunt for turtle and bird eggs, among other foods.

This week Ben saw evidence that part of their current diet is  turtle eggs which the raccoon (or perhaps a fox)  dug out of the soft earth where the turtle had laid them. Here’s the evidence I saw a few years ago.

opened turtle egg

A turtle egg probably dug up by a hungry raccoon or possibly a fox.

A Robin’s egg might be available too, which is one of the reasons, as reported last week, that Robins have 3 broods a year to keep their numbers up! Lovely “robin’s egg blue,” eh?

robin egg

Lots of animals eat bird eggs – squirrels if they happen across them, raccoons, foxes and snakes, though they swallow them whole!

Some interesting, quite harmless  snakes slide through the grass right now, so don’t let them startle you!  They’re much more afraid of you than you of them, believe me!  The small (9-12 inch), shy Brown Snake (Storeria dekayl) , which can be beige, brown or gray, appears now and then in the Bear Creek Old Fields, though it likes to spend most of its time under things – or underground, eating worms and slugs.  I particularly like the lovely tortoise shell pattern on the top of its head and the light stripe along its body accentuated by black markings.

brown snake

The shy Brown Snake with the tortoise shell pattern on its head likes to hide under anything available or simply stay underground!

Another beautiful, harmless but much longer snake (2-4 feet) is the Eastern Milk Snake (Lampropeltis triangulum).  The females lay their eggs right now in June.  Contrary to the old farmer’s tale, they do not milk cows!  They, like the Brown Snake,  prefer to hide most of the time.  According to the DNR’s website on Michigan snakes, they eat lots of mice  and  rats  but are “harmless to humans though they may vibrate their tails and bite if cornered or handled.”  So simply watch them glide gracefully and seemingly effortlessly away and all will be well.

Milk Snake

It’s June and the large, but harmless, Milk Snake is probably looking for a place to lay her eggs.

Of course, sometimes it’s the snakes that are the prey!  Just outside Bear Creek last June, we saw a regal but juvenile Cooper’s Hawk which had successfully caught what appeared to be an Eastern Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis). Cooper’s Hawks  chase medium-sized birds, their preferred prey,  through the trees and eat them if they’re successful. According to the Cornell Ornithology Lab, these chases result in a signficant number of Cooper’s Hawks fracturing their wishbones, even though they are very skillful flyers.  They can also make a meal of small mammals and snakes when necessary.  This young hawk is doing what Cooper’s Hawks do with prey, holding it away from its body until it’s dead. Always good to diversify your diet, I suppose.

cr cooper's hawk with snake

A young Cooper’s Hawk is about to make a meal of an Eastern Garter Snake.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

Earlier I mentioned Native Plant Beds.  When you visit the park from Snell Road, take a tour of the two Native Plant Beds to the north and south of the shed, as well as the native plants in the driveway circle.  Ben’s found some very easy-to-read, attractive plant signs that will help you identify some of what you are seeing.  I’m looking forward to the bloom of the Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium), delicate blue flowers balancing on grass stems!

Blue-eyed Grass

The Blue-eyed Grass in the Native Plant Bed south of the shed is preparing to open its beautiful blue eyes at the tips of the grassy leaves.

Out in the fields, The Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) has big, beautiful buds which open into their hearty, dusty pink flowers shortly.  Don’t you love how the green leaves have pink veins down the middle of them? (You can see that clearly in the bottom leaf here.)

milkweed

Milkweed buds are getting ready to open their dusty pink flowers all over Bear Creek.

And in the marsh and other wet areas, the native Button Bush (Cephalanthus occidentalis) is producing its perfectly round buds.  By mid-July, they will burst into bigger balls covered with tiny white flowers, each shooting out a long yellow-tipped stamen, looking like exploding fireworks or the old-fashioned sputnik!

button bush buds

In mid-July, the native Button Bush will burst into balls of many tiny white flowers each shooting out a long, yellow-tipped stamen. They’ll look like little sputniks!

I hope you’ll find the time some quiet afternoon to let yourself rest in the soothing sounds and beautiful sights of a walk in Bear Creek on a summer day. Or get your heart pumping at the site of a hunting hawk or a snake weaving its way through tall grass.   Time in nature is never wasted.