The north and east prairies at Charles Ilsley Park get more glorious each summer as restoration brings the return of colorful wildflowers blooming again in their native soil. Great sweeps of Black-eyed Susans(Rudbeckia hirta) stare up into the blue sky surrounded by the tousled, lavender blossoms of Bee-balm (Monarda fistulosa) and flat, compact cushions of white Yarrow (Achillea millefolium).
Tall Yellow Coneflowers (Ratibida pinnata) sway in even the slightest breeze.
The peaceful beauty of these undulating prairies on a summer afternoon is mesmerizing. The nodding dance of flowers and the flutter of butterflies among them soothe the spirit much like the sight and sound of a peaceful ocean – but with such a variety of color and movement! Wonderful!
Last Sunday along the entrance trail, young Barn Swallows (Hirundo rustica) perched high on a dead branch, waiting to be fed. They begged in the usual fledgling fashion, fluttering their small wings rapidly and calling. Finally, a parent arrived (lower left in the photo below), settled and seemed to be considering which to feed first.
Then the adult swooped out across the meadow, gathering insects in its open beak. It returned and managed a short mid-air pause, beating its wings vigorously as it speedily popped food into one of the open beaks.
Then off went mom or dad again to scoop up more bugs! Such a challenging job to feed all four of those hungry youngsters! (One is behind the lowest branch.)
In the center of the park, where restoration planting happened just weeks ago, the melt ponds are drying up, leaving a strange, foamy surface. Water is so crucial for wildlife that it’s always a reliable spot to find something interesting.
A slim bird that I believe was a young Killdeer (Charadriusvociferus), with its naturally worried look, poked along the edge of the pond. The Stokes’ Guide to Bird Behavior (Vol 2) describes juvenile Killdeer as “very similar to adults except that their upper feathers are margined with lighter edges, their dark neck bands are narrower and often gray or brown instead of black.” I think this one fits that description. Do you agree? Once the young are ready to be on their own, their parents breed again. But the male keeps an eye on the youngsters from the first brood from a distance, while the female incubates the new eggs.
Two fledgling Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis), with just a touch of blue on their wings, watched the killdeer from a small, bare tree nearby. No foraging for them right then. Perhaps they were hoping a parent would come to stuff their beaks like the swallows, but at the moment, no such luck. Like the Killdeer adults, their busy parents may also be encouraging their first brood to feed on their own while the adults start a second. (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)
Some adult birds hung out near the pond as well. A Green Heron (Butorides virescens) was so intent on feeding that it flew toward us to find some open water.
This heron was a skilled fisher! It found a bounty of food in the drying pond. Watch below as it stalks and then catches what appears to be a crayfish nymph. (Use the pause button if you need more time for captions.)
The fiercely territorial Eastern Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus) looked remarkably unruffled by the other species exploring the resources of the pond below. And nearby in a tree at the edge of the center field, an adult Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) looked as though it must have been preening vigorously since its feather were very ruffled! Drat those feather mites!
Summer turned into an unusually busy time for me this year. So I relish escaping into our parks, where I can watch young birds learn the ropes of feeding, or just quietly enjoy the way Yellow Coneflowers sway above a multi-colored prairie. I recommend it to you as a peaceful alternative to a day at the beach.
Early summer is blooming and buzzing at Draper Twin Lake Park. The golden petals of Sand Coreopsis (Coreopsis lanceolata) ruffle in the wind among dancing white Ox-eye Daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare) and Yarrow (Achillea millefolium). What a sight for a summer afternoon!
Birds suddenly burst from the deep grass or sway on a sturdy plant stem while being tossed by the wind. Butterflies settle in sunny spots along the moist trails near the marsh or dance along a sunny prairie trail seemingly unable to choose which early summer bloom might please them. Such summery abundance after a cold spring!
Butterflies Take to the Air!
I often begin blogs with birds, because they’re the favorite wildlife for many park visitors. But for better and worse, early summer begins the high season for insects! Yes, some sting, or bite – but mostly they’re just colorful and simply amazing. On a breezy visit to the eastern side of the park, I was greeted by two Eastern Tiger Swallowtails (Papilio glaucus) dancing their courtship ritual high in the air, full of chases, flutters, soaring and falling. I craned my camera upward, clicked a few times and got lucky. An exciting first for me to get photos of butterflies in flight! (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)
The male took a brief rest to sip some nectar as the female flew away. But the wind was so strong that he only paused for a few brief moments before he was blown off his flower!
Undeterred, he fed on a bit more nectar and was soon back in the sky, dancing off above the treetops with his female companion.
Nearby, a flash of orange and black made me think I was seeing a Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus) among the greenery. But no! The bars at the bottom of its hindwings were the unmistakable insignia of a Viceroy Butterfly (Limenitis archippus).
Viceroys are “Müellerian” mimics, meaning they mimic the color and pattern of Monarchs which, like them, are distasteful to predators. By mimicking each other’s appearance, they give potential attackers a warning. “If you see something that looks like us, stay away or you’ll be sorry!” Isn’t evolution amazing?
In the western portion of the park, a Red-spotted Purple butterfly (Limenitis arthemis), paused on the trail in front of me. In my photo on the left, its red spots can just barely be seen on the underside of the forewing. This beautiful – and very active! – creature is said to be a “Batesian” mimic of the Pipevine Swallowtail (Battus philenor) (on the right) which is toxic to its predators. The Red-spotted Purple isn’t but its similar appearance might make an attacker think so. (Pipevine Swallowtail photo by Annabelle Corboy, an inaturalist.org photographer.)
The harmless Red-spotted Purple is a Batesian mimic of the toxic Pipelvine Swallowtail
Pipevine Swallowtail by Annabelle Corboy (CC BY-NC)
In the grass along an eastern path sat one of the smaller butterflies much loved by generations who raised them in their classrooms or released them for special events, our very own American Painted Lady (Vanessavirginiensis). The two large eye-spots on the underside (ventral) of its hindwing distinguishes it from the Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui) which has four smaller eyespots in the same place and is widespread, appearing on every continent except Antarctica and South America.
The tiny butterflies and moths can’t claim the same glamour as the large ones, but they add their own beauty and sprightly flutter as they accompany me along the paths. (Click pause button for identification captions.)
Dragons and Damsels Flying Hither and Yon
Summer truly begins for me when damselflies settle delicately on shady leaves and dragonflies patrol prairies or ponds in search of a mate. The Common Whitetail Dragonflies are out in force right now near Twin Lake and the wetlands.
The female Eastern Pondhawk (Erythemis simplicicollis) below was hunting away from the water. She waits on vegetation until prey comes sailing by. After about two weeks, she will approach water to find a mate and choose an area of the pond in which to lay her eggs. Within one minute of mating, she will start dipping her abdomen into the water to release eggs, while the male hovers nearby.
Damselflies (in the order Odonata like dragonflies) look like delicate flying sticks. Many are iridescent or sport elaborate patterns on their abdomen and/or thorax. They are ancient creatures dating back to the early Permian, at least 250,000 years ago, and live on every continent but Antarctica.
As part of the courtship ritual, the male Ebony Jewelwing (Calopteryxmaculata) damselfly bobs up, down and around with other males in what are called “flights of attrition,” until his opponents become exhausted and leave – or he does!
I’d forgotten that the brown and black damselfly below left was a female Violet Dancer (Argia fumipennis violacea) until I got assistance at the Odonata of the Eastern U.S. Facebook page. The male is a much more glamorous purple and blue. I saw the female this week at Draper Twin Lake Park and the male there three years ago.
A Native Bird Returns to the Prairie and Avian Parenting Proceeds Around the Park
The restoration of the Draper Prairie is beginning to entice some native birds to return, as well as native plants. On a windy day, I spotted my first Savannah Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis) swaying on a plant stem in a stiff wind. In fact, the wind knocked him from his perch at one point, like the Viceroy butterfly mentioned above. This small sparrow with yellow over its eye may be seen more often now that restored prairies are providing the native plants that attract the insects it prefers. I couldn’t record its call in the wind, but listen here for its song that has an insect-like buzz in the middle!
I began my Draper Twin Lake Park visits with a second scolding from a male bird, akin to my escapade with the goose at Lost Lake. I approached the marsh on the eastern side of Draper Park to look at what appeared to be some female Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) among the giant leaves of Fragrant Water Lily. Almost immediately a male blackbird began its alarm call, left its perch in the distance and flew directly toward me.
He landed in a tree next to me and never stopped expressing his irritation until I moved away. Click below to hear a worried blackbird dad!
As soon as I focused my camera’s long lens, I knew why he was upset. Fledgling blackbirds look very much like their mothers. It was clear the birds among the lily pads were his fledglings and he wanted me to back off. And I did, of course!
Another avian dad was a little further along in parenting his offspring. A male House Finch (Haemorhousmexicanus) rested on a vine near the eastern parking area and just below sat one of his offspring on a guy wire, looking straight up at Dad longingly, begging to be fed. Evidently the male thought this was no longer necessary, because no feeding was forthcoming.
As I strolled through the prairie, I watched a Tree Swallow (Tachycineta bicolor)flying open-mouthed to scoop up food for the young in its nest box. Later I saw some gnats dancing busily above the prairie grass and wondered if the large clouds of them over the prairie were part of the Tree Swallow’s diet.
A female House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) seemed to be carefully watching an Eastern Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus) flying near what appeared to be her nest box. The Eastern Kingbird can be fiercely territorial about its nest and later I saw it land nearby and look toward the wren’s box. But eventually it flew away. Drama avoided.
Each time I came to Draper I heard the call of the Eastern Towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus) – but it never appeared. It was always in dense shrubs and trees near the soggy edge of the marsh where I couldn’t approach. So here’s a 2016 photo of one throwing his head back and letting loose with “Drink your teeeeeea!”
I did, however, record the male’s wonderful song again this year. [He repeats it at 6-7 second intervals about 4 times on this recording.]
Wildflowers Provide the Colorful Backdrop for All This Activity
The restoration plantings of Draper Twin Lake Park’s northern prairie grow more luxuriant and varied every year. This summer many native wildflowers began to bloom after spending years spent sinking deep roots to resist drought. I’ll be excited to see what arrives with mid-summer and fall as natives find their footing in this gently rolling prairie. (Click pause button if you need more time for captions.)
In moister regions of the park, other native plants emerge. Scouring Rush (Equisetum arvense), a native fern-ally, produces spores on its cone that look like Indian beadwork. Fragrant Waterlilies (Nymphaea odorata) send up bright yellow club-like buds from the marsh and Wild Columbine(Aquilegiacanadensis) dangles its exotic blossoms in the shade.
Sunlight, Rain and Earth Make It All Possible
Plants deserve a bit more respect from the creatures, like us, that depend on them. We tend to notice most the animals, birds, insects that have faces like ours, I guess. But of course, all around us plants are doing the amazing work of pulling up minerals and water from the earth, soaking up sunlight from the sky and miraculously turning those elements into the food that fuels all living beings. Directly or indirectly, everything that all of us eat is provided by plants. I feel very lucky that volunteering for Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our natural areas stewardship manager, has taught me to honor a wider scope of nature. Now while I’m fascinated with wildlife, I’m also learning to notice and name the plants, particularly the native wildflowers and grasses, that have performed the miracle of photosynthesis right here for thousands of years. Such a generous gift!
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; Wikipedia; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela;Butterflies of Michigan Field Guide by Jaret C. Daniels, A Guide to Bird Behavior Vols.1-3 by Donald W and Lillian Q.Stokes, the passionate enthusiasts at the Facebook groups Odonata of the Eastern U.S.and Butterflying Michigan plus others as cited in the text.
Since this week’s blog features a variety of wildflowers along parts of the Paint Creek Trail, I thought we’d start with a little visit to the creek itself, which is currently overflowing its banks. The Swamp Buttercup certainly seems pleased with all that moisture! (If you increase your volume, you can listen to the soothing sound of flowing water and birdsong!)
Well, with summer heat settling in, native spring flowers are producing a glorious finale to the season before making room for summer blooms. Spring wildflowers love the weaker spring sun sifting through bare branches. But hot sun and the increasing number of leaves mark the end of spring blooms. Soon these wildflowers will set their fruits, send it to the ground by means of wind, water or simple gravity, and their seed-based reproductive efforts will come to an end for the season.
So before they’re all gone, here are the ones I saw last week on the Paint Creek Trail between Gallagher Road and Dutton Road. You may still be able to spy some of these native beauties as you walk or bike on a sunny afternoon for the next few days.
Discoveries on the Trail between Gallagher and Silver Bell Roads
Golden Alexanders (Zizia aurea – above) should still be glowing beneath the light shade of trees near the Wet Prairie after Memorial Day. These members of the carrot family are visited by many spring pollinators, but they can also also self-pollinate. You can see them near the parking lot on Gallagher Road and at other spots along the trail as well.
In the Wet Prairie, a more unusual little wildflower is happily sprouting where the sun is full and the ground is moist. Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium) is really a wildflower, though its leaves look like grass. Best to look for these dainty flowers on a sunny day, since the flowers stay closed on cloudy days.
Another unusual little wildflower huddles under its much taller grass-like stem on the Wet Prairie. Star Grass (Hypoxis hirsuta) shines up out of prairie on a 6 inch stalk topped by a small (3/4 inch) blossom. The six stamens with their angular anthers add to its star-like appearance. Maybe the dew on the leaf in the photo will help you sense the size of this tiny jewel of a wildflower.
Near the creek, just north of the Wet Prairie, a burst of orange caught my eye and I discovered a native flower that was new to me, Golden Ragwort (Packera aurea). This plant too has multiple methods of reproduction. Each of the tiny florets that make up the protruding center of the flower will produce an achene, a winged fruit enveloping a single seed that will disperse into the wind. But ragwort also produces underground stems (rhizomes) aid its spread!
A native, fire-adapted plant which was new to me has the unusual name Bastard Toadflax (Comandra umbellata) and this is not a flax or a toadflax plant. A report on desertusa.com, claims it was named “toadflax” by the 16th century botanist, John Gerard, because the flowers “be yellow, having a mouth unto a frog’s mouth” and “bastard” because at the time meant “false,” indicating perhaps that it was not a real toadflax. This interesting prairie plant is “hemiparasitic” because it feeds through its roots, but also taps into roots of other plants to get nutrition and water using special structures called haustoria. Bastard toadflax reproduces by rhizomes and produces a small oily fruits enjoyed by birds and mice, who by eating them carry the seeds farther afield.
If you notice a splash of white far back in the Wet Prairie, it might be a patch of Robin’s Plantain (Erigeron pulchellus), a tough, little native that thrives after prescribed burns. It’s a relative of Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annuus), a common wildflower in our parks. Unlike Daisy Fleabane, though, Robin’s Plantain more commonly produces one bloom to a stem. Like the Golden Ragwort, it reproduces by both achenes and rhizomes.
Early last week, the fluffy, white blossoms of native Choke Cherry (Prunus virginiana) hung in long clusters along single stems called racemes. After warmer sun later in the week, they had begun to turn yellow. They don’t produce edible cherries, but their bitter fruit appeals to game birds, songbirds and woodpeckers, according to one of my favorite wildflower sites, www.illinoiswildflowers.info.
All long the trail you’ll see Wild Strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) blooming. Now here’s one bloom you might love to see fading, because its ripening fruit is tiny, but delicious. Good luck getting them before the birds and beasts do, though!
Discoveries on the Trail from Silver Bell Road to Dutton Road
Despite our late spring, many different native wildflowers were blooming along this section of the trail. At the bottom of the stairs leading to the creek, just past the parking area, Swamp Marigolds (Ranunculus hispidus) shine bright despite the deep shade. As you saw in the video at the top of the blog, the wetlands along the stream are doing what they do best – soaking up the runoff after heavy rains. And Marsh Marigold is doing its part!
Farther down the trail, the lavender spikes of Wild Lupine (Lupinusperennis) are blooming. This beloved native produces seedpods open explosively, launching seeds up to seven feet from the plant. Lupine also produces colorful clones as it spreads with rhizomes. Lupines are rising toward the sun in several parks as part of the restoration work being done on our prairies. It’s so heartening to see these lavender blossoms opening up from bottom to top on their stately racemes. And I love the whimsy of its wheel-shaped leaves.
Along the berms on the western side of the trail, a perky yellow flower blossoms in bunches. The fuzzy stems and leaves give it the first part of its name, Hoary Puccoon (Lithospermumcanescens). According to Wikipedia, the second word “puccoon” comes from an ancient Native American word “poughkone,” and refers to plants formerly used for dyes by Native Americans. I wonder if its roots can turn things that vivid yellow/orange?
Near the first bridge going south, I found a whole group of native wildflowers that were just finishing their blooms. A small group of Common Trillium (Trillium grandiflorum) still stood in the shade just off the trail. These flamboyant white flowers start turning pink as they age, eventually leaving only their leaves behind to gather up more sun for next years flowers. While true pink- and red-flowering trillium species exist, our Common Trillium just turn pink as they age gracefully.
A Common Trillium is pure white when it blooms.
It begins to turn pink as it fades.
Eventually, as it wilts for the season, it turns a deeper pink.
Nearby Starry False Solomon’s Seal (Maianthemum stellatum) bore only a rather disheveled version of its star-shaped blossom. After the blossoms, the plant will produce green fruits with purple/black stripes that eventually turn red. Woodland birds and mice enjoy the fruits, thereby carrying the seeds within the berries to new locations.
Native Bees and Tiny Butterflies Busy Pollinating
Many spring wildflowers depend heavily on flies and native bees (of which there are 450 Michigan species!) for their pollination, because many other butterflies and the honey bees finish migrating or emerge from hives only in warmer months. Above is what I think is a native Mining Bee (Andrenidae family) foraging for pollen and thereby pollinating one Wild Geranium (Geranium maculatum) after another! I’m not knowledgeable about bees, but I learned from Pollinators of Native Plants that a particular Mining Bee, Adrena distans, is a specialist pollinator of Wild Geranium, so that’s my guess. Please feel free to correct me if you know more about bees than I do!
A few tiny butterflies were doing their part in pollinating flowers as well. If you see a fluttering wink of blue among the grass stems, it’s probably a Spring Azure butterfly (Celastrina Ladon). These 1 inch pollinators are blue when flying but once they settle, they quickly fold their wings so only the dull gray side shows. It makes them hard for hungry birds – and interested photographers! – to spot. Azures tend to pollinate Golden Alexanders, False Solomon Seal as well as other wildflowers. (Photo on the left by iNaturalist. org photographer Dan Mullen.)
Spring Azure blue upper wings by Dan Mullen (CC BY-NC-ND)
The Spring Azure is much less notable to predators when it settles to feed.
The tiny Pearl Crescent (Phyciodes tharos) quickly fluttered by me and landed on dry grass stems in the Wet Prairie. These little butterflies produce several broods of caterpillars throughout the summer. So watch for tiny (up to 1.25 in.) flashes of orange and black rising from the grass and scurrying across trails all summer long, busily sipping nectar and inadvertently transporting pollen for the flowers.
The last little butterfly was in a perfect spot to find a mate. According to http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org, “To seek females, males perch in openings, flats or depressions near woods.” And that’s right where this one was – in the open, on a dead plant stalk near the trees just south of the Wet Prairie. He’s not glamorous but he has a glamorous name, the Dreamy Duskywing (Erynnis icelus). (Duskywings can be hard to tell apart, so again, feel free to correct me!) [Edit: A man who collects butterflies and has seen many Duskywings told me on Facebook that he believes this is a Sleepy Duskywing (Erynnis brizo) which he says are more common in this area.} He’s picked a great spot since one of his favorite nectars is the nearby wild lupine. These duskywings like to lay eggs on aspens and cottonwoods, which surround the Wet Prairie.
Migrators Building Nests and, What Else? – Singing!
Late spring is a busy time for birds. Some have just arrived and are busy singing to attract mates. A Warbling Vireo (Vireogilvus) sang over my head in one of the Quaking Aspens (Populus tremuloides) near the Wet Prairie. This vireo is rarely seen once the leaves come on the trees; they like to stay high in the treetops and search diligently for caterpillars. But hearing a quick, rolling song high above me, I spotted his vireo shape, gray/olive back and yellow-ish white belly from below. Then he disappeared into the tree canopy. So here’s a photo of one I saw at Cranberry Lake a week ago. Click here to listen to his rollicking warble!
The Warbling Vireo near the trail seemed quite frantic, singing insistently and hopping higher and higher in the tree as he did so. At first I thought another male vireo was singing across the trail from him – and I believe that he thought so too! But when I followed the other song, it was one of the great bird mimics, the GrayCatbird (Dumetellacarolinensis), doing an imitation of the Vireo’s song and, I think, driving him crazy! The Catbird was, as usual, adding a few flourishes of his own, but it seemed as though the Vireo found his call an annoying form of competition! For a sample of the Catbird’s wonderfully complex, mimicking song, click on the word “Song” at this link.
A pair of Baltimore Orioles (Icterus galbula) swooped down onto the Wet Prairie one afternoon. The female immediately disappeared into tall grass. It’s likely that she was carefully choosing grass stems out of which she could strip fibers for weaving her long, sack of a nest. Evidently, the male’s job was to stand guard while she had her head down.
Suddenly, the female oriole lifted out of the grass, followed immediately by the male, and they swooped into a tall Cottonwood (Populus deltoides) on the northern side of the prairie. She disappeared into a clump of leaves hanging high over the meadow, but I could see the branches moving as she worked and a tiny bit of the growing nest (look in the center of the photo below through the leaves). I found a great little YouTube video of the Oriole’s weaving process, which is really incredible. Imagine tying knots and twirling fibers around a branch using only your beak!
I heard a pair of Eastern Kingbirds (Tyrannus tyrannus) fluttering together from tree to tree and stopped to watch. After giving what sounded like greeting calls, they soared up into a tall tree near the Wet Meadow. The female stood at the edge of a very messy nest which she was constructing on top of what appeared to be an old squirrel nest. The male doesn’t help build the nest, so while she worked, he stood guard in a nearby tree. I read in the Stokes Guide to Bird Behavior (Vol. 1) that Kingbirds build preliminary nests before settling into a final one to lay eggs. I’m guessing this may be just a trial nest, since building on a squirrel nest seems like an iffy location! (Squirrels are known to eat bird eggs!) The fine fibers drooping down over the top of the squirrel’s dry, gray branches and leaves are the female kingbird’s doing.
Kingbirds are identifiable from a distance by their upright posture – what one member of the birding group calls their “military stance.” And note the white tips on the tail feathers.
Every Nature Walk has its Special Moments
Last week, I had to smile at this seemingly relaxed male Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis). He hopped slowly up and down a slope by the trail, picking up and rejecting items he found between the grass stems. With the grass taller than his head and his red crest (which is usually erect) drooping backwards, he reminded me of an avian Red Riding Hood!
It’s little things like that – and seeing the Blue-eyed Grass staring up at me – or watching the two Eastern Kingbirds near their nest – that send me home happy from every foray into the natural world. And these grant adventures only require the right clothes for the weather, water-proof shoes, a little application of bug spray at times and my undivided attention for an hour or so. I usually take my camera along, but walks without anything but my trusty binoculars are just as rewarding. If you ever feel a bit weary as the poet Wordsworth once did, “The world is too much with us, late and soon/Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers…,” try a foray into our parks with your curiosity set at high alert. I’m confident that nature will send you home refreshed and with moments to share with others. Thanks for sharing mine!
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, A Guide to Bird Behavior Vols.1-3 by Donald W and Lillian Q.Stokes, Pollinators of Native Plants by Heather Holm,and others as cited in the text.
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!
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.
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!
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.
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.
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….
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!
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.
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.
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.
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!
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 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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.)
The Eastern Kingbird on takeoff!
The Kingbird resting near the pond with a bit of nesting material in its beak.
Resilient Spring Flowers Flourish After a Prescribed Burn
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.
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!
Hepatica flowers bloom again after the prescribed burn.
A hardy little hepatica rises from the blackened soil.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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 (Tyrannustyrannus) 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.)
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!
Nearby, a female Mallard escorted her four youngsters with no male attention at all.
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 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.
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.
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(Omphalotusolearius) below are even bio-luminescent and their gills glow faintly green in the dark when they’re fresh! Hence the name, eh?
Native Wildflowers and Grasses Bask in the Sunlight of the Meadows and 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:
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.
At first only the yellow/green striped head of a tiny Painted Turtle (Chrysemys picta)peeked out of the bubbly mass.
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!
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!
The Delight is the Details
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.