The calendar says it’s spring, the season when we watch for signs of life in bare earth, on bare branches, under the withered, sere stalks of last year’s growth. Here in Oakland Township, we are prepared for the cold weather and snow showers that periodically visit us in April, and occasionally (gasp!) even in May! But no matter. We can celebrate nature’s gift for rebirthing throughout the year because stewardship makes a lot of little “miracles” possible.

So I thought I’d celebrate spring with you by reminiscing about a few of my favorite “little resurrections,” the little miracles of nature that have meant the most to me in the ten years that I’ve been volunteering with our Oakland Township stewardship program. Some of the rebirths are created by nature alone – like frozen creatures that thaw back to life each spring. And some surprise and delight us when they appear with a little help from years of careful restoration by our stewardship staff. So here’s just a short sampling of the some springtime surprises I’ve encountered in our parks.

Local Wildlife That Freezes Each Winter and Thaws Back to Life Each Spring!

When you hear chuckling noises coming from a vernal pool in the forest, you’re hearing Wood Frogs (Lithobates sylvaticus). Most other adult frogs survive Michigan winters by burrowing into mud in the bottom of a pond or pool and going dormant, i.e, lowering their heart and respiration rate. Wood Frogs evolved a very different approach. They go upland in the late fall and burrow down into the leaf litter which, along with snow and other plant material, hides them from sight. And there, they freeze with only the faintest of brain activity for as long as eight months!

According to research reported by a website of our wonderful National Parks Service, once freezing temperatures set in, ice encases them, forming on the outside of their skin and eye cells and covering the surface cells of their internal organs as well. But the Wood Frog’s liver floods the inside of the frog’s cells with a syrupy glucose which acts as anti-freeze, binding the water in them to prevent ice forming inside and so preventing the damage from dehydration that would otherwise kill them. No heartbeat. No breathing. Almost no brain activity for all those months! The Park Service says, “In spring, the wood frog thaws from the inside outward. First the heart starts beating. Then the brain activates. Finally, the legs move.” Off they go to the nearest vernal pool to sing and find a mate! No wonder they’re chuckling as they do, eh?

One of our adult butterflies uses a similar overwintering strategy. The Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa) wedges into tree cracks and holes, slips under bark, or into log piles during the winter. When the temperature drops enough, it produces an anti-freeze called glycol which replaces some of their blood and keeps them from freezing. They’re often the first butterfly I see in the spring , so I always look for them. Since it’s active before the flowers bloom, it has evolved to feed on tree sap, rotting fruit or sometimes even dung.

And one more little wildlife “resurrection” – hatchling Midland Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta marginata). I recently learned that these little hatchlings emerge from their eggs in underground nests late in the year, when food is scarce. No problem. They have enough baby fat to last until spring. But as the temperature drops, they too are covered in ice both inside and out, saved from death only by producing glucose and glycol. Here’s a wonderful 3-minute video BBC with David Attenborough demonstrating the process.

Other Small “Miracles”

Nature is actually full of seemingly miraculous transformations and survival strategies. How about the December morning when the birding group saw tadpoles swimming up to the icy surface of the Playground Pond at Bear Creek Nature Park! It turns out that the Green Frog (Rana clamitans) lays multiple clutches of eggs through the breeding season. The ones that hatch in late autumn can survive a not-too-harsh winter by staying near a pond’s muddy bottom where the water is warmer. They breathe through their skin and then shoot quickly to the colder surface to snatch some food. For a bit more detail, check out my 2019 blog on this winter surprise. Here’s a rather blurry photo of a winter tadpole that I took as it dashed to the icy surface that chilly winter morning.

Recently, I attended a vernal pool monitoring and remembered an almost “miraculous” adaptation found in these woodland ponds. Vernal pools dry up during the summer, so predators like fish can’t inhabit them. As a result, a surprising number of creatures use them to quickly mate and reproduce in early spring before other predators become more active. For me, the most fascinating example is the tiny, orange, freshwater Fairy Shrimp (Eubranchipus vernalis). These tiny creatures motor around upside down, rippling their tiny appendages and filtering food out of the water.

They lay two different kinds of eggs called cysts. The spring eggs hatch, grow and reproduce quickly before the pond dries up, completing an entire life cycle in sometimes as little as 16 days! But this little crustacean also evolved a reproductive backup plan. According to the website of the Pennsylvania Natural Heritage Program, fairy shrimp also lay winter-hatching eggs with a hard shell which fall to the bottom and go into diapause or dormancy until the pond fills again the following spring. Evidently those winter eggs can survive drought, frost, desiccation and last for a long time – a good strategy in ponds that can disappear with a stretch of warm days!

Amazing Comebacks Created with Stewardship

At other times, these seemingly miraculous reappearances require some assistance from our stewardship crew. Regular blog readers may remember the astonishing appearance of a carpet of native Golden Alexanders (Zizia aurea) along the Paint Creek Trail after the removal of invasive vines and shrubs. The seeds had evidently lain dormant under the tangle of non-native shrubs and vines for decades, perhaps as long as a century! But once the invasives were removed, sunlight and rain finally reached them again. And they responded by germinating and then blooming in profusion. What a gorgeous sight that was!

Or perhaps readers will remember my excitement at the emergence of wetlands in several of our parks. In some, our Natural Areas Stewardship Manager, Dr. Ben VanderWeide breaks old drainage tiles that farmers used to drain fields years ago. And voilá! Up comes the water! In others, he’s consulted with colleagues at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to create or extend wetlands in fields where he’s noticed a consistently moist area at the bottom of a slope. By designing and creating a berm around it, rain, snow melt or spring water can collect into a sizable wetland. In either case, once a wetland emerges, along comes the wildlife – dragonflies, butterflies, frogs, water birds and more- to drink, mate or simply rest in the newly restored areas.

The Little “Miracles” of Sheer Survival

In 2003, Oakland Township Parks and Recreation Commission purchased ten acres of remnant prairie and woodland along the Paint Creek Trail after unusual wildflowers were spotted there, by eagle-eyed local naturalist, among others. These resilient native plants survived despite the relocation of Paint Creek itself by a railroad company in 1872 and extensive mining of sand and gravel in the 1920’s. Thanks to stewardship restoration, they are now increasing their numbers year by year. (More info at my 2022 blog.) Here are a few of these resilient survivors!

Nature’s Gift for Imparting Hope

Emily Dickinson began one of her iconic poems with these lines:

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all…”

The old saying goes, “While there’s life, there’s hope.” In my wanders through our parks, I’ve learned that life is “the thing” under the skin of little frozen frogs or within the sturdy shell of tiny turtles or inside the delicate wings of a butterfly. Life bides its time in seeds that wait years for their moment in the sun, or in wildflowers that struggle to survive within a radically changed world. Maybe life’s resilience in these ” little resurrections” can encourage hope to “perch” in our lives this season. Happy spring, everyone!