Tag Archives: Downy Woodpecker

LOST LAKE NATURE PARK: Goose Drama, a Star-studded Insect and More

Ring-necked Ducks – 3 males and a female – in Lost Lake

Most of the action at Lost Lake Nature Park in the last few weeks has centered around which pair of Canada Geese control which section of the lake. These normally mild-mannered birds can act like a flock of drama queens when establishing territory and nesting. When I arrived for the first time two weeks ago, the weather was still cold, but some geese tempers were simmering!

Text and photos
by Cam Mannino

 

I’d just read The Geese of Beaver Bog by Bernd Heinrich and supplemented my limited Canada Goose knowledge with Donald Stokes’ Guide to Bird Behavior, Volume 1 – so I was curious to see if I could read Canada Goose body language for the first time. Well, it was quite an exciting set of lessons from the geese themselves!

Then I went on to explore the more mellow residents of Lost Lake Nature Park and also fell in love with some wildflowers and a momentarily glamorous insect.

 Drama at the Lake!

When I stepped out of my car during my first visit, a male Canada Goose (Branta canadensis) and his mate saw me and moved away from the floating dock. The female swam calmly to the west end of the lake while the male patrolled the center.

The male Canada Goose keeping an eye on me from the center of the lake.

He turned his head toward me as I reached the dock and kept me in sight all the time. It was a cold day with a strong north wind, unusual for late April. As I walked along the shore toward the east, I heard the male goose honking wildly and turned to see him making a bee-line straight toward me across the pond! When he reached the dock, he took to the air and flew at me, honking wildly, his wings snapping just above my head. Needless to say, I did not raise my camera for a photo! He dropped heavily into the water behind me and gave what the Stokes guide called “the head flip,” stretching his neck high, shaking his head from side to side and giving what Stokes calls “quiet grunts” indicating that the goose is apprehensive or disturbed.

I was puzzled as to what I’d done to receive what was so clearly a threat. So after a few minutes, I moved back to the dock and finally noticed what should have been obvious before. A goose nest rested among the stalks on the island in the lake, lined with feathers from the female’s chest (a “brood patch”) and perhaps some cat-tail fluff. Silly me, I didn’t realize that the whole south side of the pond was this pair’s territory and they had started a family there!

A quite obvious goose nest probably lined with some of the female’s breast feathers and perhaps some cat-tail fluff.

On the far side of the pond, a second pair of geese were already nesting. Periodically the first male would venture somewhat toward the second pair and the male of that pair would stand with his neck very straight and his body tilted slightly forward. If I understand the Stokes Guide correctly, he was making an “I’m aware of you” signal to the other male, indicating that he sensed a possible confrontation. The first male circled away each time.

The male of a second pair raised his neck and head to indicate to the other male that he was approaching too close to his nest.

Later in that visit, the female goose of the first pair rejoined her mate near the nest. As she approached, they both began what Stokes calls a “greeting ceremony.” She would call softly “hink, hink” as she swam and he would respond almost simultaneously with his loud “A-honk!” When she reached him, she put her bill near his, almost tucking her head beneath his lower bill.

The female joined the male and they did a bit of the greeting ceremony, accompanied by soft calls.
The female placed her head right below the male’s during their greeting.

Then to my amusement, they both turned in my direction and seemed to be scolding me loudly for having dared to get that close to their beautiful nest! Look at the male’s eye turned right toward me and the female facing me directly! It was just a reminder….

The two geese honk loudly while facing me, perhaps as warning to not get so close to their nest next time!

On my next visit to the dock, it was the female who gave me the warning – a stern look as she sat on her nest. That neck position with a straight, lowered head aimed right at me is a threat pose. She remembered this possible trespasser with the camera!

The female goose takes a threat pose from her nest on my second visit. She knows a trespasser when she sees one!

On my third visit, she still kept an eye on me, but seemed more relaxed at my presence, just turning her head to let me know that I was seen. That extended wing may be creating a warm blanket for her eggs, if any,  as well as for her.

The nesting female was more relaxed on my third visit.

A week later, I saw what I thought might be my first pair quietly feeding near the nest. Female geese leave the nest for up to an hour during incubation and these two were very close to the nest. It was a lovely warm day and the eggs, if there were any, were probably quite warm under the loose feathers and cat-tail down. I also spotted a third nest at the west end of the lake with one goose standing over it and the female of the second pair on the north side was still sitting on her nest.

But the Canada Goose treat of the day was that, on my way home,  I stopped to see two adult geese down the road at a residential pond, standing guard over seven little goslings calmly munching on the fresh green grass.

A family of Canada Geese on residential property down the road from Lost Lake

Other Wildlife Around the Lake Seemed More Relaxed

On that third visit, I also got treated to a pair of very calm Hooded Mergansers (Lophodytes cucullatus) floating around the bend in the island not far from the female goose. I’ve always seen photos of male Hooded Mergansers with their hoods raised dramatically, as in this photo by inaturalist.org photographer, Liam O’Brien.

A Hooded Merganser by Liam O’Brien (CC BY-NC)

The male at Lost Lake, however, seemed calm and collected. Through the veil of dry stalks, I was able to catch a quick shot of him. His relaxed crest lay in a slight droop at the back of his neck. The patterns of color on his body and head are so lovely and his bright, golden eye shone like a small gem in his velvety black head!

A male Hooded Merganser cruised Lost Lake in a relaxed mode, his dramatic crest a droop of feathers on the back of his neck.

On the coldest days, the Ring-necked Ducks (Aythya collaris) on the far edge of the lake tucked their bills into their back feathers. I thought perhaps they were keeping a low profile against the icy north wind that drove quick, short waves across the pond. In this relaxed posture, they simply drifted with the wind.

A Ring-necked Duck tucked his bill into his wing feathers, perhaps trying to cope with the icy wind.

A gathering of Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta marginata) sun-bathed on the log where I’d first seen the Mergansers. This large one looked particularly content, despite its perpetual grimace.

Nearby, I think I kept hearing the snoring call of the Northern Leopard Frog (Rana pipiens). It’s as low as the Wood Frog’s, but less continuous and truly, very much like a snore! My recording was much too distant because the Leopard Frogs quieted every time I approached! But you can listen to one at this Macaulay Library link .

I didn’t know until this year that Leopard Frogs come out of hibernation from muddy lake bottoms in very early spring. I usually see them later in the spring or summer when they move into grassy areas. Here’s a picture of one a few summers back in just such an area at Bear Creek Nature Park. Snazzy spots, eh? 

Birds and Blossoms in the Wooded Areas

Lost Lake is surrounded by the high, dry hills cloaked by an Oak-Pine Barren. Birds flit in and out of the trees that surround the lake and the woods beyond. The rhythmic,  insistent call of the Northern Flicker (Colaptes auratus) sounded from the very top of a snag near the lake one sunny afternoon.

Male Northern Flicker high up on a snag over Lost Lake

In the photo that accompanies my recording below, you can see why he was once called the Yellow-shafted Flicker.

Nearby, in the grassy area just west of the caretakers’ house, a female Flicker was paying close attention! Male flickers have a black “mustache” on either side of their bill; females don’t.

A female Flicker seems to be listening to the male’s insistent call

Flickers are actually woodpeckers, though they spend a lot of time on the ground probing for their favorite food, ants. In fact, woodpeckers of several kinds busied themselves foraging on snags all over Lost Lake.That’s one of the reasons bird lovers leave dead trees standing in their woods when they can. They provide places to eat and nest for woodpeckers. Here a female Downy Woodpecker (Picoides pubescens) drills with great concentration on a dead limb, probably searching for beetle larvae.

The little Downy Woodpecker female is intent on finding some food in a dead limb.

A Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) hitched quickly from branch to branch, probably looking for a similar meal, though he may also have been establishing a territory since he periodically let forth with his kwirrrr call.

In the White Pines (Pinus strobus) near the caretakers’ house, the cheery, tweeting call of the American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis) can be heard almost any day! I imagine they frequent the family’s thistle feeder all day long!

An American Goldfinch sits in the White Pines near the caretakers’ house enjoying their thistle feeder.

Occasionally, I’d see an Eastern Phoebe (Sayornis phoebe) in the area, sometimes on a low limb or sitting on the upturned boat near the shore.  It’s always darting down near the water’s edge, probably seeking out insects, since it’s a flycatcher.

A Phoebe resting on the upturned boat before darting down to feed at the shore.

On my last warm day visit, an Eastern Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus) had flown in on a south wind the night before. It took off  from a branch as I stepped out of my car, but then landed near the water, just as the Phoebe had. Perhaps you can just see the spot of greenery in its beak in the righthand photo? Nesting material, methinks! (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

Resilient Spring Flowers Flourish After a Prescribed Burn

A prescribed burn on April 27 nourished and warmed the native plants in Lost Lake’s natural areas.

The native plants of Lost Lake are a hardy bunch when it comes to fire! Shortly before a Lost Lake prescribed burn took place on April 27, I spotted two clusters of a classic spring flower, the native Round-lobed Hepatica (Hepatica americana). Some were along the trail to the Oak-Pine Barrens and the ones below were just at the edge of the grassy area west of the caretakers’ house.

A classic of early spring, Round-lobed Hepatica bloomed at the edge of the grassy area west of the caretakers’ house.

The fire crew was alerted to the presence of these little beauties and did their best to avoid them, leaving the ones in the photo above completely untouched, and singeing the ones along the trail, but leaving some leaves and blossoms. The surprise was that when I came back a week after the fire, the hepatica which was untouched by fire had disappeared  – perhaps finished off by warming temperatures or by a grazing deer. But the singed ones along the trail had made a comeback! These fire-adapted plants were producing new leaves and blossoms already on the blackened forest floor! The nutrients from the last year’s dry stalks had been released back into the soil by the fire and the blackened soil was nicely warmed again – so up they came for a second chance in the sun!

Likewise, down near the burned shore of the lake, under the trees, a huge patch of another native plant, May Apples (Podophyllum peltatum) emerged from the darkened soil. Their umbrella-like leaves were just beginning to open in the dappled light.

The native May-apples, also fire-adapted, emerged from the blackened soil to bloom in shade near the pond.

And of course the fire couldn’t reach the leaves of the Fragrant Water Lilies (Nymphaea odorata) rising from beneath the water near the edge of the lake. I never knew just how the lily pad took shape. Evidently they come up vertically like a wide blade of green and then eventually lay back on the water surface, as the various stages in the photo below suggest. I’m looking forward to the summer blossoms that bloom in the morning.

Fragrant Water Lily leaves rise from beneath the water and eventually lay back to become the lily pad.

And One Very Cool Insect with Stars at Its Feet

A tiny Water-Strider (fam. Gerridae) rowed across the surface of a wetland at the foot of the slope in the Oak-Pine Barrens. This little creature literally walks on water! In the shadows, it was easier to see its body and legs covered in thousands of tiny hairs which keep its body dry and light enough to perch above the water as it forages. Its long, flexible, strong legs distribute its body weight evenly so it can move easily across the surface of the water – hence its irreverent other name, the Jesus bug!  It steers using those long back legs and pierces its prey with the claws on the middle of its front leg!

But suddenly, when this amazing little creature moved into the sunlight, a small reflection of the sun shone like a star where each leg met the waterline.  I was delighted and immediately decided that the Water Strider could be the “star-studded finale” on the blog this week!

Seeing this tiny rower motor about the surface of a wetland, listening to the snap of a goose’s wings right over my head, or coming upon little lavender flower faces peering  up at me from the grass – those moments are epiphanies for me. They illuminate the reality that despite the presence of nature’s most invasive species, i.e. we humans! –   nature endlessly tries to adapt and survive, even if it means walking on the water, challenging a trespasser or springing out of burned earth. Surely such skills, daring, resilience and sheer beauty deserve our loyalty, protection and thoughtful stewardship.

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 Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; maccaulaylibrary.org; Wikipedia; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net; A Guide to Bird Behavior Volume 1 by Donald W. Stokes,and other sources as cited in the text.

 

Cranberry Lake Park: Have Hope! Sure but Subtle Signs of Spring!

The solstice has passed; the days and nights get equal time. But when I’m shivering, my fingers and ears go numb in a stiff  wind, I struggle to hold on to the idea that we’re heading into spring. Until, that is, I head into the parks.

Blog by Cam Mannino

In mid-March,  water birds began splashing down in Cranberry Lake, finding any narrow stretch of open water within the ice sheet. They floated and fed – until one glorious morning, the whole lake turned liquid and bright blue! Migrating flocks honked, chattered and wheeled overhead. Some stopped to rest and feed before heading further north; others explored nesting sites. Our year ’round residents tuned up their spring songs. Territories must be established! Potential mates must be impressed! Best of all, the tiny frogs thawed after their frozen winter state – and now they are  singing! Can genuine spring, with its fulsome birdsong and burgeoning buds be far behind? I think not!

Water Birds Arrive Early, Despite the Ice – and the Muskrats Emerge, too!

It always impresses me that some of the first migrators to arrive in early spring are the water birds! They float, seemingly content, in the icy cracks that form as the sun begins to work on the frozen lake surface. Their cold water strategies involve body fat, oiled feathers, down insulation, and a circulation system which allows cool blood coming up from their feet to pass close to  warm blood traveling down, warming it as it returns to the heart. Below a group of Common Mergansers – black-headed males and brown-headed females –  glided along a thin channel of water on the far side of Cranberry Lake’s iced-over surface.

Common Mergansers – black-headed males, brown-headed females – find a small slit of open water at Cranberry Lake early in March.

Off in the distance, the Wednesday birders spotted the hunched silhouette of a Muskrat (Ondatra zibethicus) perched on the edge of the ice as a goose floated nearby. It slipped in and out of the water, hungry no doubt for food but also for a meager scrap of sunlight after living under the ice all winter!

Two sunny but cold days later, the ice had disappeared and the lake was bright blue and busy with migrating ducks and geese. Two Bufflehead (Bucephala albeola) and a group of Ring-necked Ducks (Aythya collaris)black-and-white males and brown females –   dove and surfaced as they foraged near a Canada Goose (Branta canadensis).

A group of Ring-necked Ducks and two Bufflehead dove and rose next to a Canada Goose as they rested and foraged in the lake.

I got a bit closer to a Bufflehead by checking from the opposite side of the lake. This lone male rocked along on the surface, bobbing under to feed every few minutes. Cornell Lab of Ornithology says Bufflehead accomplish this dive  by compressing their feathers to drive out the air and then pitching forward. A few seconds later, they pop to the surface like a cork and float on.

The Bufflehead dives underwater by pitching forward with its feathers compressed to squeeze out the air, making it less buoyant and able to submerge.

And that same cold morning, what I think was a large muskrat came steaming across the pond toward the eastern side. At the time, I thought this bustling swimmer was a Beaver (Castor canadensis), since there is a large beaver lodge on the western side of the lake. But I’m just not sure of that, so I’m sticking with it being a large muskrat. In the water, its tail looked wide enough to be a beaver, but as it approached the shore, it just didn’t seem to be big enough to be a beaver, unless it was a yearling. And beavers tend to swim with only their heads out of the water. In any case, nice to see this furry fellow plying the pond in the sunshine. What do you think? Big muskrat or young beaver?

The width of this swimmer’s tail made me think this was a beaver, but I think now it was a large muskrat.
From this nearing shore photo, it appears I’ve seen a large muskrat, rather than a small beaver.

Hearing the ancient bugle of the Sandhill Crane (Antigone canadensis), I quickly looked up to see two in the distance, flying into the far end of the lake.  Aren’t we lucky that they breed in our wetlands?

A pair of Sandhill Cranes fly in to check out the edge of Cranberry Lake as a possible breeding ground.

 Spring Songs Signal the Beginning of the Mating Season

As I approached the park one icy afternoon, bright spring music reached my ear – Western Chorus Frogs. These tiny frogs (Pseudacris triseriata – about 1.5 inches long!) are daytime relatives of the nocturnal Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer). They spent the winter frozen solid, no heartbeat, no brain activity, but protected by an anti-freeze of sorts that keeps their tissues from breaking down. Pretty amazing! They thaw out and start singing as the days lengthen. The first afternoon I scanned a wetland trying to see these tiny creatures that seemed to be singing right at my feet, but I could not spot one! So on a second try a few days later, I found a log to sit on near the wetland in the trees just east of the parking lot. After about 20 minutes with my binoculars, I finally spotted two (of the hundreds that were probably there!), the sacks beneath their chins bulging, as they tried to impress a female with their piercing calls. Have a look and a listen!

Two tiny Chorus Frogs with bulging necks sing to attract a mate in the shallow water of a wetland.

A male Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) sang from the tree tops in the eastern meadow, turning every few minutes to send his territory call in a new direction. He’s a bit faint on the recording below, so you might need to turn your volume up! I got a bit closer to another male in a bush near the parking lot later on. He was doing “call and response” with another cardinal hidden in the trees nearby.

And of course, the American Robins (Turdus migratorius) that went south to Ohio and Kentucky returned as well, joining the hardy ones that spent the winter here.

One of many Robins that have returned from Ohio and Kentucky to breed here in the summer.

His spring call is also a bit soft.  And he makes a longish pause before his second “tit whoo” call.

Woodpeckers, of course, use drumming to establish territories, rather than singing.  Both male and female Downy Woodpeckers (Picoides pubescens) attract mates and protect territories with drumming. You can hear their typical drum roll in this Cornell Lab recording which was put to use by the little female Downy below.

I get a huge kick out of hearing flocks of American Goldfinches (Spinus tristis) chirp in the shrubs and small trees. To my ear, they are the only bird that actually says “tweet, tweet, tweet!”  Have a listen at this link and see if you agree! The males are currently molting into their bright yellow summer outfits.

Groups of American Goldfinches are singing their “tweet, tweet” calls in Cranberry Lake Park right now.

On a bird walk one Wednesday, we heard the far distant, insistent drumming of a Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus). Mark, one of the great spotters in the bird group, finally located it with binoculars on a very distant tree, and suddenly its mate (we assumed) dove across the trail far ahead of us before slipping up and away between the trees. No chance for a photo.  But here’s an incredible closeup by talented photographer Monica Krancevic at iNaturalist.org.

Pileated Woodpecker by Monica Krancevic (CC BY-NC) at iNaturalist.org

The First Blooms and Some Sturdy Ferns Wait Patiently

The lovely red blossoms of the Silver Maple (Acer saccharinum) brighten gray days in early spring. They emerge on bare branches before the leaves and are pollinated by the wind before butterflies or other insects emerge and start to pollinate. Those big clusters of scarlet florets are a great food source for hungry squirrels in the spring, when food is scarce, since nuts and seeds are either already eaten or beginning to crack open and sprout.  Last week, I found these male (staminate) clusters fallen from the treetops onto the exposed roots of a large silver maple. I love how the red at the edge of the root echoes the red of the flowers.

The scarlet blossoms of a silver maple are echoed in the root of the tree itself.

Take a closer look at this cluster of florets, some still closed, others waving stamens that have already shed their pollen to wind.  Once pollinated, the female florets will produce winged fruits, called samaras.

A closeup of a cluster of male florets, some closed, some with their stamens already emptied of pollen.

Nearby on the trail to the lake, some sturdy ferns survived the winter with fertile fronds intact.  The brown beads below are the sporangia on the fertile fronds of the Sensitive Fern (Onoclea sensibilis) that carry the spores for this year’s crop of new plants. On the right, are the vegetative fronds that provide sugars through photosynthesis in the summer months.

And the feathery ones below left are the fertile fronds of Ostrich Fern (Matteuccia struthiopteris) whose spores will be released and carried by the wind in the spring. Their vegetative fronds on the right stood tall and bright green, taking advantage of the moist soil and spotty sunshine in the forest.

Spring Just Peeks Out…Here and There

A pair of Canada Geese rest in the quiet refuge of a shaded wetland

Behind a scrim of small trees on the way to the lake, I spotted these two Canada Geese floating serenely in a secluded wetland, away from the noisy flocks gathering on the lake. They reminded me that, at this time of year, spring has to be sought out. It appears and disappears. One day the lake is iced over, a few days later it’s rippling and blue and then the snow falls again. On some days, spring isn’t easily seen – just a few red blossom clusters floating in a vernal pool  or scattered on the lifeless grass. Sometimes spring can only be heard and not seen. Frogs as tiny as your thumb sing unseen one day and the next, perch on a bit of floating grass, their throats bulging with amorous sound. Flocks twitter or honk high in a cold blue sky or male birds rehearse the first tentative versions of their mating songs. Woodpeckers tap out a seductive rhythm on the bark of trees.

The Eastern Meadow at Cranberry Lake doesn’t look very spring-like yet – but the clues are there.

Early spring isn’t flamboyant and colorful, like it will be in a few weeks. It’s hesitant, waiting to be found and enjoyed if we can only slow down enough. If we watch, we’ll see it peeking through the alternating rain or snowfall, cracking and opening in thawing ponds or hear it whistling, chirping, trilling from inside the brush or high in the treetops. So I hope you have time to delight in these  subtle hints of early spring as they unfold. It won’t be long now…

Footnote: My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Caterpillars of Eastern North America by David L. Wagner; inaturalist.org;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;Butterflies of Michigan Field Guide by Jaret C. Daniels,  and others as cited in the text.

Bear Creek Nature Park: Young Birds, a Tiny Forager in Disguise and So Many Wildflowers!

Boneset and Joe Pye in the Eastern Meadow at Bear Creek

Late summer wildflowers nodded and swayed in the meadows, woods, wetlands and native gardens at Bear Creek this August. Monarch butterflies paused on the blossoms, competing mostly with industrious native bumblebees. And all over the park, young birds were feeding on their own – or in a few cases, still getting fed by doting adults. In the center pond, a tiny creature foraged in disguise!  

Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

So take a wander along the trails, as goldenrod transforms the park from green to gold, and enjoy the bright beauty of summer’s last hurrah!

 

Like Some Human Youngsters, A Few Avian “Adolescents” Stick Close to Mom or Dad

A young Eastern Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus) hid in a shrub in the eastern meadow, insisting loudly about being fed.  No parental response was forthcoming from the adult on a shrub some distance away. So eventually, the youngster ventured out into the field, looking about with curiosity. Seemingly satisfied with this move toward independence, the adult flew in to feed the youngster. And then they shared the bush a while until the adult flew farther off again. (Click on slideshow’s pause button for captions.)

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Two groups of Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) were escorting their young around the Center Pond. In one group, two males and a female floated along with a small juvenile. The males are now in their late summer “eclipse plumage” which makes them look very much like the females – except that the males have yellow bills, while females’ bills are orange and black. The males will change back to their glamorous, iridescent green head feathers later in the fall when Mallards choose their mates for next spring. I guess these two males on the right were sticking close to this female just in case she made an early decision!

A Mallard duckling accompanied by a female (orange bill) and two adult males in eclipse plumage (right with yellow bills)

Nearby, a female Mallard escorted her four youngsters with no male attention at all.

A female Mallard escorting her four ducklings with no male companionship

A male Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) seemed remarkably calm at my approach as he concentrated on gathering seeds in his beak. Usually they dash off at the first sight of me when they’re on the ground. He wasn’t crushing the seeds, so I assume he had a nest nearby since cardinals can have up to four broods in a season. That’s a lot of parenting in just a few months.

A male cardinal who seemed to be gathering seeds to take to his young rather than eating them right away.

A male American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis) plucked buds from native Canada Goldenrod  (Solidago canadensis) which is just beginning to bloom. He may have been feeding his young as well, since this is the nesting season for goldfinches.

An American Goldfinch plucking buds from Canada Goldenrod, perhaps feeding nearby nestlings since they breed in mid-to late summer.

While Adults Molt, Young Birds Forage on Their Own

Many bird species molt from mid-August until mid-September, including Field Sparrows, Downy Woodpeckers, House Wrens and many others.  The Eastern Kingbird, featured feeding its young above, doesn’t molt until it reaches its winter territory in South America. It’s occurred to me that since birds go into hiding during the molt, perhaps their young have to be a bit more independent sooner than other birds. Just a guess. In any case, a lot of young birds are out and about, clumsily trying to forage on their own.

I saw what I think is an adult Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) just beginning its molt. The bird’s feathers looked oddly fluffed out and it was picking at its breast in a persistent way. It might be a male since they molt a bit earlier than females. Below, a group of young song sparrows hopped along the trail, seeing what they could find in the grass before flying up into small trees nearby.  (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

Downy Woodpecker adults (Picoides pubescens) are molting now too. The Stokes Guide to Bird Behavior (Vol II) says “[Downy] Fledglings in general can be told from adults by the clearly new, white feathers on their breast. Adult have gone in and out of the nest hole hundreds of times by this stage and look very worn, with bits of black showing through their white breast feathers.” The feathers on the young female I saw looked wonderfully fresh as it tried to drill into a branch, so I’m guessing it’s a foraging juvenile.

Down at the Center Pond, a Green Heron rested calmly on a log. Since spring, I’ve repeatedly seen a Green Heron in that very place, so I’m thinking it’s a mature bird. Cornell contends that Green Herons are sometimes found in colonies. But I’ve never seen more than one of these solitary birds at a time.

A solitary Green Heron on the log where it was harassed by two geese in the spring
The same heron flew up onto a bare limb, staring into the water.

Two other solitary birds could have been adults or juveniles. It’s hard to distinguish with the House Wren and the Black-capped Chickadee once they’re out on their own. The House Wren may have been a youngster since it was clearly curious, but the Chickadee appeared to be a sophisticated contortionist as it probed a stick for insects.

Glorious Wildflower Color, Exuberant Vines and a Few Pretty-but-Toxic fruits in the Woods and Shady Wetlands

Though wildflowers are not generally as numerous on the shady paths of Bear Creek, you don’t want to miss them. So keep an eye out for their exotic shapes and vivid colors shining out of the greenery as you make your way, especially near wetlands. I just learned from Wikipedia that the Jack-o’lantern mushrooms (Omphalotus olearius) below are even bio-luminescent and their gills glow faintly green in the dark when they’re fresh! Hence the name, eh?

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Native Wildflowers and Grasses Bask in the Sunlight of the Meadows and Native Gardens

A spray of Purple Coneflowers in one of the native gardens

In the native gardens, the center of the parking lot, and scattered across the sunny meadows, native wildflowers bloom among the Canada Goldenrod and the Queen Anne’s lace. The monarchs seem to be enjoying them. A female sipped nectar from the Purple Coneflower and a male spread his beautiful wings on the Joe-Pye. (The field marks for males are bulges in the veins on their hind wings.) Here’s a sampling:

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A Quarter-sized Creature Dons a Bubble Disguise

One cloudy afternoon, my husband spotted a very small clump of bubbles, green Water Meal  (Wolffia coumbiana) and Duckweed (Lemna minor) moving slowly around the water of the center pond near the dock.

A moving patch of Water Meal, Duckweed and bubbles on the Center Pond caught our eye.

At first only the yellow/green striped head of a tiny Painted Turtle (Chrysemys picta) peeked out of the bubbly mass.

The tiny head of a Painted Turtle emerged from the bubbly greenery floating in the pond.

At last, we could see this tiny creature – a turtle about the size of a quarter – who’d found a nifty disguise to wear while munching on the Water Meal and Duckweed greenery that covers the pond. I’m betting on this little one to survive to adulthood!

A Painted Turtle – about the size of quarter! – brings its head and shell into the sunlight.

Perhaps when this baby gets a little bigger, it can join the Painted Turtles who hang out on this log at the east end of the pond almost every warm day. Last Saturday, this group seemed to be doing a slow motion version of the Hokey-Pokey (“You put your left leg in, you put your left leg out”), except for that one member who is not quite with the program!

Painted Turtle line-up BC
Painted turtles line up on a log

 The Delight is the Details

Western slope of Bear Creek in mid-August

Meadows like the one shown above on the western slope are an eye-full on a summer day. The sweeps of green, yellow and white against a blue sky soothe the spirit like a cool hand on a fevered brow.  Soak it in.  You can feel yourself unwinding.  Then look a little closer.  So much of the delight in nature comes from noticing small things – like the turtle in its bubble disguise, the scarlet cardinal flower shining in a shady wetland, or a parent bird feeding its young on a leafy branch. Like any great work of art, there’s always more to see in nature’s landscapes than what comes quickly to the eye. So perhaps spend a few quiet minutes looking down into the water or into the tall grass. Scan the treetops through your binoculars. The smallest discovery can add just a little more joy to a walk in the park.

Footnote: My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: butterfliesathome.com;Pollinators of Native Plants by Heather Holm; 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.

DRAPER TWIN LAKE PARK: Fledglings, Hard-working Parents, Native Blooms, Butterflies and More

A kindly Dad taking his three young children fishing one morning at Draper Twin Lake Park.
Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

Meeting the lovely family above at Draper Twin Lake Park one morning was a fitting beginning to my walk.  This dad was kept very busy baiting hooks and unhooking Blue Gills for his three young children who were excited to take their catch home and “eat ’em.” Well, the avian parents this week are as busy as that dad. Many fledglings are out of the nest but not quite “ready for prime time.” The youngsters’ flights are still a bit awkward, they haven’t quite grown into their beaks, and they object to being weaned from feedings by mom and dad. They crouch on branches, trying to look helpless by quivering their wings and begging “Feed Me!” with loud, high-pitched and incessant chirping. The conscientious adult birds are busy plucking berries, ferrying caterpillars and crunching seeds to fill young beaks. Meanwhile, more summer butterflies and other insects appear each day as native and non-native flowers line the trails and bloom in the wetlands. Summer, the busy season for nature, is well underway.

Industrious Parent Birds and Their Demanding Offspring!

A male cardinal gathering fruits to stuff into the beak of his fledgling

Twice as I entered the western path to the lake, I spotted a male Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) plucking little fruits from a bush and feeding them to his offspring. Juvenile cardinals have coloring similar to the female, except that their beaks are dark brown instead of red-orange like both adults. This hiding youngster couldn’t resist one peak at me over the tops of the greenery.

Juvenile cardinals have coloring similar to the female,  except her beak is red-orange and the youngsters’ beaks are black.

Further along the trail, a conscientious mother bird, the female Downy Woodpecker (Picoides pubescens), brought goodies to her youngster that was crouched on a branch in the classic quivering pose of begging fledglings. “Poor me; feed me; I’m starving.”

A juvenile Downy Woodpecker crouches and flutters in the classic begging style of baby birds looking to be fed.

Once mom took off, the youngster, its juvenile red cap on display, practiced a bit of upside-down branch hopping.

Juvenile Downy Woodpeckers have small red caps. Adult females have no red on the head and males end up with only a red dot at the back of the head.

A male Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichas) sang an abbreviated version of his “Witchedy, witchedy” song repeatedly in a snag over the marsh. Farther up the path, I’d seen a young female hiding in a large bush, but it didn’t stop moving long enough for a good shot, I’m sorry to say. It has the slightly askew, downy look of a young bird. Thanks to Natural Areas Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide and expert birder Ruth Glass for identifying this little one for me! And to Bob Bonin for his fine photo of a fully fledged adult female so you can see how the little female will eventually look.

 

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In another snag by the lake, a mother Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) was busy feeding her nestling(s), traveling back and forth and stretching into the hole to feed whoever was inside. Those babies should be very safe in this nice deep hole in their lakeside dead tree!

 

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Over in the eastern part of Draper Park, I was greeted by two fledgling Barn Swallows (Hirundo rustica) sitting on a wire by the parking lot. Adult Barn Swallows sport russet throats and loooong, deeply forked tails. These were obviously fledglings.

Two Barn Swallow fledglings sat quietly on a wire, occasionally testing their very long wings.

These youngsters were still slightly downy, shorter-tailed than adults, and only partially iridescent blue-black on the back. They sat remarkably still on the wire and periodically tried extending their wings. The fledglings below seemed to tip slightly back and forth as if trying to find its balance with those snazzy new wings. And the light color on the side of its bill is also typical of a juvenile Barn Swallow.

A young Barn Swallow working on its wing technique

What appeared to be a well-behaved, quiet young Eastern Phoebe (Sayornis phoebe) – on the right below – traveled about on the edge of the north prairie as its parent (left) slipped down into the grass periodically to forage like grown-up flycatchers. From a distance in bright morning light, it was hard to see if the presumed youngster (right) had a slightly more yellow lower belly than the adult. The smaller bird looked a bit misproportioned, though, like a lot of fledglings do and also had a more “smudgy” juvenile breast as described by Cornell lab. So my conclusion is I was looking at an adult and its offspring.

What appeared to be an adult Eastern Phoebe (left) with its more smudgy-breasted youngster on the right.

An Unusual Sighting

Ben spotted a bird with a long sweeping tail in a snag near the prairie and quickly identified it. According to Cornell Lab, the Black-billed Cuckoo (Coccyzus erythropthalmus) is “common but secretive” and “heard far more often than seen.” Evidently, it eats lots of spiny caterpillars and has adapted to that spiky diet by shedding its stomach lining periodically to get rid of the spines. Yikes! I caught sight of the cuckoo flying with its very long tail trailing behind, but never got a shot. So here’s a beautiful photo from a gifted photographer, Jerry Oldenettel, on inaturalist.org.

Photo of Black-billed Cuckoo by Jerry Oldenettel (CC BY NC SA) from inaturalist.org

Butterflies Big and Very Small

A female Black Swallowtail shows her distinguishing big band of blue spots as she sips from Hairy Vetch, a non-native vine.

A female Black Swallowtail butterfly (Papilio polyxenesprobed the funnel-shaped blossoms of Hairy Vetch (Vicia villosa), a non-native vining plant. The large blue spots at the bottom of the butterfly’s wing tell us she is a female and the two rows of  yellow spots indicate that she’s not the black morph of the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus), which is very similar. According to Wikipedia, the orange spots on the underside of her wings protect her while she’s laying eggs, because they mimic the Pipevine/Blue Swallowtail (Battus philenor) which is toxic to birds. The Black Swallowtail is not, but birds will be wary.

The female Black Swallowtail’s orange spots on her hindwings mimic the Blue Swallowtail, which is toxic to many birds. Mimicry can provide protection.

Red Admirals (Vanessa atalanta) showed up on both sides of the park one morning. This butterfly migrates from the south rather than overwintering here. Look at those cool striped antennae with yellowish-white tips!

The Red Admiral butterfly migrates from the south each spring.

According to butterfliesandmoths.org, the Silver-spotted Skipper (Epargyreus clarus) rarely frequents white flowers and almost never yellow ones.  But the males do sit on tall flowers or grasses to attract females, so perhaps this handsome skipper was trying to snag a mate!

The Silver-spotted Skipper prefers more colorful flowers but may have been posing on this Daisy to attract a female.

Northern Pearly-Eye Butterfly that rested on the path one morning overwintered as a caterpillar. Like the early season butterflies (e.g. the Mourning Cloak), it feeds on sap from willows, poplars and birches or sometimes the fluids found in carrion or dung. Nature makes use of everything, doesn’t it?

The Northern Pearly-eye butterfly feeds on sap and other fluids, but not on flower nectar.

A pair of mating Little Wood Satyr (Megisto cymela) butterflies flew from the path to a nearby leaf still attached to one another as I approached.

Mating Little Wood Satyr butterflies

Flowers Blooming at Draper Now that are New to Me

This month at Draper, Ben identified for me two beautiful native flowers I’d never seen before. Near the lake, we spotted the fuzzy blooms of another “Beard-tongued” plant, in the same genus as the Hairy Beard-tongue (Penstemon hirsutus) featured in our Photo of the Week two weeks ago. This one is called Foxglove Beard-tongue (Penstemon digitalis). Some blossoms have little lavender stripes inside to lead insects to the nectar, helping to spread their pollen.

The other native plant was a rose growing right next to the floating dock called the Swamp Rose (Rosa palustris). On one of the blooms, I spotted a tiny Katydid (family Tettigoniidae). Check out those long antennae!

 

A Slide Show of Flowers – Native and Non-Native – Currently Blooming at Draper Park

I always like to know the names of flowers whether native or not. It keeps me more aware of the detail in the landscape. So here are three kinds – native wildflowers, non-natives that are not always invasive, and an invasive plant that does harm to other plants by shading or crowding them out and multiplying aggressively.

 

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Turtles vs. Creatures That Love Their Eggs

Often in early summer, I see Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta) walking along the same trails I’m taking. They’re looking for soft, sandy soil where they can bury their eggs. Some places are definitely more hospitable for this purpose than others. This Painted Turtle came trundling along a path near Draper Lake, perhaps returning from an attempt to safely bury her eggs.

A Painted Turtle perhaps returning from a soft spot in the soil where she buried her eggs.

But out on the prairie on the eastern side of the park, evidence abounds that lots of animals love to find and eat turtle eggs. On one outing with the birding group, we spotted several turtle nest dug up with the leathery white egg shells laying outside.

Some animal has dug up a turtle nest and eaten the eggs leaving the rubbery shell.

Among the creatures that enjoy turtle eggs are raccoons, foxes, coyotes, skunks, and birds like herons, gulls and crows. As an (chicken) egg eater myself, I can’t complain. Luckily, Painted Turtles are our most abundant turtle species, so I assume nature is just taking its course as usual.

Dappled light on a trail on the western side of Draper Twin Lake Park.

It’s always iffy to anthropomorphize and assume that the behavior of other animals is similar to our own. We can’t, of course, know for sure what motivates a particular animal’s behavior. After all, we don’t understand our own motivations sometimes! But science is increasingly exploring the social and emotional lives of all sorts of creatures and discovering that many teach and learn in much the same way we humans do. And of course, animals have knowledge, skills, and memory that is superior to our own – for example chickadees remembering thousands of places they have stashed seeds or nuts. So when young fledglings beg to be fed or practice short flights in much the same way that little children pester us for food or learn to walk, it’s probably normal to feel an intuitive understanding of what might be going on. If we smile in recognition of our kinship with all creatures, maybe that will help us be more careful stewards of the natural world in which we’re embedded. And that has to be a good thing, right?

Footnote: My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Pollinators of Native Plants by Heather Holm; 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.

Cranberry Lake Park: Evidence of Things Unseen – Tracks of Night Visitors and Overnight Ice Sculptures

meadow-cl-winter
Meadow at the center of Cranberry Lake Park in winter

Tracks, tracks, tracks – they’re everywhere in the parks after a good snowfall. Mostly they’re left by us humans and our dogs, of course, as they are in this photo of the meadow. But sometimes, tracks, distant bird calls, empty nests reveal hints of who’s exploring the park when we’re not there. Or, in the case of gorgeous ice crystals on a puddle, or a huge beaver lodge, we discover what’s occurred when we weren’t looking.

Who’s Been Here While We Weren’t?

Heading into Cranberry Lake Park with the birders one morning, we stopped at Ben’s urging to listen to the distant call and tapping of a Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus.) (Listen at this highlighted Cornell link under “typical voice.”)  These very large woodpeckers make huge rectangular holes as they create nest holes or search for carpenter ants in trees. According to Cornell Lab, the holes offer shelter later to swifts, owls, wood ducks and other birds. We never got to see this huge member of the woodpecker family that morning, but even hearing it, you sense real wildness close by. Joan Bonin, a township birder, took this excellent picture of  a Pileated Woodpecker on a cherry tree in her back yard. Thanks for sharing, Joan!

pileated-woodpecker-by-joan-bonin
Photo of a Pileated Woodpecker by local photographer and birder, Joan Bonin.

Winter nights at the park must be full of scurrying animals.  An Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) went bounding across a wooden platform at the edge of a trail (left below). To hop, rabbits push off with their front paws (center photo) and swing their powerful back legs forward –  hence the shape of their tracks (right). Wonder if this cottontail was fleeing something or just full of exuberance on a snowy night? (Hover for captions; click on photo to enlarge.)

Meanwhile, out in the meadow, a White-footed Mouse (Peromyscus leucopus) must have stopped to explore  a clump of exposed grass, and then another. Mice don’t hibernate in winter; that’s why they sometimes seek warmth and food in our houses! After a rain, you can sometimes spot tunnels mice dig under the snow to keep out of sight. Thanks to Creative Commons Photographer Greg Lasley for his photo of this little nighttime adventurer.

According to a delightful article in the New York Times, occasionally mice use their prehensile tails to climb small trees; line an abandoned nest with grass, milkweed fluff and feathers; tuck a snack under the lining and spend the night! So I probably should have looked more closely at this nest which may have been made by an American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis), since it’s cup-shaped and wedged between several branches in a small tree.

Goldfinch nest? CL
A White-footed Mouse might have found this nest a cozy place on a winter night.

Perhaps a mouse at Cranberry Lake could tuck some of these Highbush Cranberries (Viburnum trilobum) into an abandoned nest for a midnight snack.

High-bush cranberries might make a delicious snack.
While not actually a cranberry, highbush cranberries might make a delicious snack for wildlife.

Heading north from the meadow, a straight line of round prints led from the path to a pond. Two Canid prints, one on the top of the other,  appeared inside each of these tracks in  fluffy snow.  I’m guessing it was a fox.  Foxes travel in a straight line to save as much energy as they can while foraging. They also place their back foot inside the track of front one, probably for the same reason.  (Dogs get fed, so their tracks wander all over the place!)  The fox (if that’s what it was!) that left the tracks to the pond seemed to be headed out onto the icy pond – perhaps an easier path for a light animal than going through the brush. The fox on the right is a Red Fox (Vulpes vulpes) I saw trotting at dusk near our home.

On the path to Cranberry Lake,  night wanderers left their marks. The birders noticed tracks (left below) of White-tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus) heading, like the fox,  toward a frozen forest pool.  We surmised that a Raccoon (Procyon lotor) left the five-toed tracks (center photo) which spread as the snow melted and then got covered in ice after a freezing rain. A possum waddled along under the shrubbery leaving its tiny pairs of  five-pointed tracks (right) as it nosed in the snow.

 What Occurred When We Weren’t Looking?

One morning, a shallow puddle on the path had turned to ice but, wow!  The surface was covered with 3 dimensional ice crystals, like tiny, leafy ice sculptures all over the puddle.

multiple-ice-crystals-cl
A frozen puddle covered with 3-D ice dendrites, a type of  ice crystal.

According to a website called SnowCrystals.com, these crystals are called Ice Dendrites. They form at low temperatures and high humidity, a condition which had occurred the previous night. The word “dendritic” means “tree-like,” and indeed these do branch. I don’t remember seeing these free-standing ice crystals before, so I sat down in the snow and took a closer look. Amazing!

Ice crystal closeup CL
A free-standing ice dendrite, a kind of ice crystal, growing on the surface of a puddle at Cranberry Lake.
Ice crystals CL
Ice dendrites, branching ice crystals, on the surface of a puddle at Cranberry Lake

Near the large pond in the center of the park, the dark fertile leaves (or fronds) of the Sensitive Fern (Onoclea sensibilis) poked out of the snow. The underground stem of this plant (called a rhizome) is fed through photosynthesis by its large bright green leaves of summer. But the rhizome also produces separate, specialized dark fronds which are fertile and small enough to go unnoticed (at least by me!) in the summer. They support clusters of sporangia, little brown beads which contain the spores that will sail off in the wind next summer to start new plants. They give this interesting plant its other name, Bead Fern. Fascinating that these two photos are different leaves/fronds of the same plant.

Sensitive Fern infertile fronds in summer.
Sensitive Fern infertile fronds feed the rhizome, or underground stem of the plant in the summer.
The fertile fronds that support the "beads" that contain the spores of Sensitive Fern.
The fertile fronds that support the “beads” that contain the spores of Sensitive Fern.

One icy morning I  took a walk out onto Cranberry Lake. People were skating and ice fishing on the opposite side of the lake.  As I looked to my left, I caught sight of the very large lodge of a North American Beaver (Castor canadensis).  

Beaver Lodge CL
A Beaver lodge on the west edge of Cranberry Lake

According to Northern Woodlands.org, beavers build lodges with branches, debris and grass, coating the surface with mud but leaving ventilation at the top. The entrance is safely under the water. Then they cut fresh branches and anchor them to mud on the lake bottom nearby so they can feed on the bark in the winter. You can see some protruding from the ice in front of of the lodge.

Young branches stuck in the mud near the beaver lodge provide winter food under the ice.
Young branches stuck in the mud near the beaver lodge provide winter food under the ice.

Inside, the lodges have a feeding platform just above the water and a higher, drier sleeping platform covered with shredded wood fibers and grass. Beavers store fat in their tails, which shrink over the winter as the fat is used up. With a family of beavers inside plus snow and mud insulation, it’s a relatively snug place to spend the winter. So glad I could get out on the ice to see it!

Winter Requires Eyes, Ears and Imagination

Trackless path CL
An unmarked path to Cranberry Lake one winter morning

Winter walks are more challenging, but they have their compensations. It’s fun to be the first to step onto a pure white path on a snowy morning. Blue forest shadows make patterns on the untrod snowy trail.

Forest shadows on snow
Forest shadows on the path to Cranberry Lake

Birds are fewer, more furtive and some are less colorful in the winter months, but hearing their group singing in a thicket or a distant call or tap is a companionable sound on a cold morning.

Female Downy Woodpecker CL
A female Downy Woodpecker taps along the branch of a tree

Tracks leading hither and yon help us imagine a moonlit night with a fox trotting across an icy pond or deer running with their white tails flashing in the darkness. Following tracks like an amateur detective makes winter walking a bit of an adventure as we imagine the unseen world of Cranberry Lake on a winter night.

 

 

Footnote:  My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: 
Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net; 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)and websites linked in the text.