Tag Archives: Joe Pye Weed

Bear Creek Nature Park: Life-or-Death Drama…but Always the Persistence of Life

View through the woods to a wetland at Bear Creek

Bear Creek Nature Park is the Oakland Township Park I know best. I’ve walked there with my husband Reg for almost thirty years and brought some sort of camera with me for the last thirteen of them. As the winter ebbs each year, we watch for the appearance of the first narrow leaves of Spring Beauty or Blood Root under certain trees. Each May, we check out a huge hole in a particular oak, hoping for a glimpse of this year’s raccoon kits scrambling up and down within in the trunk. My husband has an eagle eye for the slowly moving hulk of snapping turtles gliding across the surface of the marsh and we both listen each summer for the banjo-like strum of the Green Frog’s song at the Center Pond.

But after all these years, we can still be fascinated by something we’ve never seen before, as you’ll see in the life-or-death drama of two determined foes fighting for life on the western slope last week. It’s a fresh experience to watch a trio of Eastern Bluebird fledglings sorting out their relationships in the Eastern Meadow. Amid all the comforts of the turning seasons with their eternal cycles of emerging, blossoming and subsiding, we can still be amazed by the persistence of life. Let me show you what I mean.

High Drama on the Western Slope

The Western Slope at Bear Creek Nature Park, August 2019

My husband and I headed for the western slope one perfect summer day and came upon two small creatures in a life-or-death contest. My husband spotted a large, yellowish/white  caterpillar with five spiky, black  hairs chewing avidly on a Box Elder leaf (Acer negundo). I learned later from Dr. Gary Parsons, Collection Manager and Bug House Director at Michigan State University’s Etymology Department, that it was the larva of an American Dagger Moth (Acronicta americana). When we stopped to look more closely, we saw a large, exotic-looking insect hovering nearby. Oh boy, I recognized this determined female.

An Ichneumon Wasp hovering near an American Dagger Moth caterpillar

It was an Ichneumon Wasp (family Ichneumonidae), a creature that preys on caterpillars in order to plant its eggs in or on them. When the eggs hatch, the unfortunate victim provides a plentiful source of food for the Ichneumon Wasp’s young!

This female kept her long abdomen with its ovipositor curled upward like a scorpion as she maneuvered near her target. The caterpillar clearly sensed the danger of her presence because it began to rear back its head along its body, thrashing forward each time the insect approached. The wasp first hid under a nearby leaf and then leapt forth, for all the world like a silent movie villain!

The Ichneumon Wasp appears from behind a leaf as the caterpillar begins to thrash to keep it off.

The battle went on and on in the bright sunlight. The wasp repeatedly attempted to gain  purchase on the caterpillar, but its bristled body and its constant thrashing made depositing the wasp’s eggs extremely difficult.

The Ichneumon Wasp tries to land on the caterpillar but the caterpillars bristles and its thrashing are quite a defense!

They were worthy opponents. We waited a long time but the battle continued to rage – the caterpillar eating the leaf between attacks to keep its energy up and the wasp trying desperately to deposit its eggs on a nourishing food source. Eventually, we left them both to their fate and walked on into the morning.

It was a peaceful change of scene to see male and female Monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus) settling on plants nearby. I hope they mated and laid eggs earlier since they were landing on Common Milkweed (Asclepia syriaca) that weren’t young and tender, but too dry and tough to provide much nutrition for their offspring. Perhaps they were some of the first Monarchs to start migrating south to Mexico. [Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.]

In early August, we saw a female Monarch fluttering among fresh Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) in the meadow west of the Center Pond. Monarch caterpillars specialize; they only eat milkweed leaves. Perhaps this one’s young are currently nibbling their way along the leaves of this plant, intending to molt, pupate and emerge before the migration.

On August 1, we spotted a female Monarch fluttering among Butterfly Milkweed, perhaps eating, perhaps stopping to lay her eggs.  

Just a short way along the Western Slope trail, a slightly worn Viceroy Butterfly (Limenitis archippus) settled on Queen Anne’s Lace. Viceroys look very much like Monarchs and recent research indicates that both species use their color to advertise that they are unpalatable to predators. However they can be distinguished from Monarchs by the thin, black lines across the veins of the hind wings. Often, too, they tend to flutter more frequently than Monarchs which beat their wings quickly and then coast for a few moments in flight.

The black lines on its hind wings distinguish the  Viceroy Butterfly  from the Monarch.

Viceroys have another defense against predators like the Ichneumon Wasp. Their caterpillars look like bird droppings! Here’s a photo of one shared by a photographer who uses the name jdfish1 at inaturalist.org. What a strategy this butterfly evolved for protecting its young!

The Viceroy’s caterpillar looks so much like a bird dropping that predators may not even notice it.

On to the Pond:  A Stealthy Fisher and I Share Strategies

A native Michigan Lily (Lillium michiganense) blooming in a moist area just west of the Center Pond in early August

As I turned down the path that leads to the Center Pond, I was confronted by a wriggling, bristly caterpillar who appeared to be suspended in mid-air right in front of me. The Hickory Tussock Moth (Lophocampa caryae), like the Dagger Moth caterpillar, is covered with bristly hairs that can cause a skin rash if you pick either of them up. Since it pupates in leaf litter after eating on leaves, it was wriggling out an almost invisible string in order to carefully lower itself to the ground. It didn’t look fully grown to me because it hadn’t developed the long black hairs front and back of later instars. I wished it well and passed on.

A Hickory Tussock Moth in mid-air while lowering itself to the ground.

But after a few steps, I stopped again. A young Green Heron (Butorides virescens) sat preening in a branch near the dock.

A juvenile Green Heron preening in the sunlight.

I love watching these birds fish, so I approached very cautiously, repeatedly taking a few slow-motion steps each time the heron looked out toward the pond and then pausing when it looked even slightly in my direction. After checking out its feathers, it flew down to stand in the water, stretching out its long neck. It didn’t stay there long; Green Herons often prefer to hunt from a perch rather than wade like the Great Blue Herons, for example.

A juvenile heron stretches it neck after landing in the water.

I continued to stealthily approach each time the heron’s focus turned out toward the pond.  And suddenly, it flew to the dock and began to hunt in earnest. I As I watched it verrrry sloooowly step down to the edge of the dock and stretch out its neck to search for prey, a huge smile spread across my face. I almost laughed aloud. I thought, “You and I, Green Heron, have developed the same strategy, except I want a photo and you want a meal!”

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It didn’t score a meal that time. It gave up and flew to the other side of the pond. Here’s what it was probably looking for, but couldn’t quite reach – a Green Frog (Rana clamitans) immersed in duckweed, who lived to mate another day.

A Green Frog enjoying the cool duckweed and warm sun at the Center Pond.

When I reached the deck, a family of three small Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa) with an adult female were feeding off the bright green Common Duckweed (Lemna minor) on the far side of the pond. Three other young wood ducks cruised around by themselves, far from the others.

I’d seen this same grouping at the bird walk a couple of days earlier. This time though, the female spotted me in the distance and disappeared into the vines at the far edge of the pond.   When she returned, she appeared to have summoned the male who’d been hiding  because he clearly was molting. His gorgeous iridescent green crest and curvy “duck tail” were being replaced by more sedate non-breeding plumage. He and the female quickly stood guard over their family group as if to put me on notice!

The male Wood Duck came out of the vines despite being in molt when summoned by the female to defend the young from that strange person with the camera on the deck.

The other three ducklings came a bit closer to the others, but again seemed to be happy on their own. I wondered if they were from her first brood, since Wood Ducks can breed twice in a summer, though the minimum number in a Wood Duck clutch is usually six. So maybe she just had three slightly more independent offspring and three who needed more protection? No way of knowing.

The male Wood Duck eventually decided I was not a threat and disappeared back into the tangle of vines to work a bit more on his molting process.

The male Wood Duck pulling on feathers during his molt.

My husband and I watched an Eastern Wood-pewee  (Contopus virens) sally forth from the shrubbery to hawk for insects. But as soon as it returned to the dead vines at the pond edge, it almost disappeared from view. See how quickly you can spot it here:

A camouflaged Wood-Pewee disappears into the landscape while foraging at the pond.

As I left the pond, walking along the eastern boardwalk, I heard the “miaou” call of a Gray Catbird (Dumetella carolinensis). One of the birders had pointed out a catbird there earlier in the week and I’d taken a quick photo. But I told the others that I’d always wanted a good photo of the rusty undertail coverts of these birds and I’d never gotten one. Well, two days later, I heard the “miaou”  again, and there it was obliging me  by showing the part of its anatomy that I’d read about but never caught in a photo.

In the meadow west of the Center Pond, the Wednesday birding group also spotted a male Indigo Bunting (Passerina cyanea) dropping down into the grass to feed and then quickly rising again to the nearest branch. I got a quick photo then to share with you, but didn’t see the bird again during the week. Keep an eye out when you’re there. He’s a beautiful eye-full, even when looking a bit bedraggled either from parenting duties or perhaps the beginning of his molt.

An Indigo Bunting foraged in the meadow west of the Center Pond.

Out on Bear Marsh with Snappers!

Bear Creek Marsh on a breezy summer day

In the woods on the way to the marsh, a movement at our feet caught our attention. A tiny American Toad (Anaxyrus americanus) about 3/4 of an inch long, hopped onto some leaves and froze, hoping perhaps to blend into the background and escape notice; camouflage is a basic survival strategy for toads. Though they breed in shallow water,  they spend most of their time on land. I love this little toad’s chubby legs. Small as he is, he’s off into the larger world to feed and if lucky enough to survive, produce another generation of toads.

A tiny American Toad. Juveniles like this are more active during the day than adult toads.

Along the way, some small white mushrooms stood tall along a seam in a log. Crown-tipped Coral mushrooms (Clavicorona pyxidata) are aptly named. They do resemble undersea corals and their tips are recessed and surrounded by little points. They grow only on dead wood, especially hardwood that has lost its bark. So they are helping to recycle the forest for us and creating this odd, but lovely life form in the process.

This Crown-tipped Coral mushroom is probably at bit past its prime since it’s no longer white. Or it may just not have gotten enough sunlight.

A couple of striking insects also appeared as we passed through the wood toward the marsh. A Northern Pearly Eye butterfly (Enodia anthedon) landed in a bare spot on the trail, sunlight shining through its wings. This butterfly doesn’t feed on flowers, but on tree sap, rotting fruit, decaying vegetation, even carrion – transforming death back into life. The life cycle of butterflies is full of amazing transformations, so why not one more?

The Northern Pearly Eye frequents shady wooded areas unlike many other butterflies.

Dr. Gary Parsons of MSU also helped me identify this cartoonishly cute, metallic native bee near the marsh as being from the family Halictidae. They are commonly called Sweat Bees, the ones that are attracted to your perspiration. But this tiny one was sipping from the drying blossoms of a native wildflower called Jumpseed  (Persicaria virginiana), so called because according to Michigan Flora,  if the plant is disturbed, it can propel mature seed about 9 feet, a nifty means of dispersal!

A native, solitary bee from the family Halictidae sips nectar from native Jumpseed.

At  least six Common Snapping Turtles (Chelydra serpentina) moved slowly through the water at Bear Creek Marsh, their shells looking like moving clumps of mud. Snappers are generally shy and harmless except when bothered on land. Their plastron (the lower shell) is  small, leaving parts of its body exposed and vulnerable. They can’t completely disappear inside their shell and be safe like many turtles. So on land, their only protection is flinging out their very long necks and biting. Snappers clean our lakes and marshes of bacteria much like vultures clean our land, by consuming underwater carrion, but unlike vultures they also forage for live prey and aquatic vegetation.

A large adult snapper gliding  slowly through the water at Bear Creek marsh.

The edge of the dock at the northern entrance to the marsh is blooming with Arrowhead (Sagittaria latifolia), a lovely aquatic plant that produces white flowers sprouting from both sides of a stalk or “raceme”- and the large, vivid arrow-shaped leaves are almost more beautiful than the flowers! Dragonflies cling to them like bright baubles. What a sight on a summer morning!

The Eastern Meadow: Young Birds Out on Their Own..Sort Of

The Canada Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) is just getting ready to turn the meadow gold. A male American Goldfinch (Spinus tristus) stood on a thistle and happily tore off some of the Goldenrod buds, possibly to feed either his mate or young. Goldfinches don’t start breeding until late summer when the thistles provide down for nests and seeds for growing broods.

A male Goldfinch stands on a thistle while feed on Goldenrod buds

Once he looked up and saw my camera, he gave me a wary glance but went right back to foraging.

A male Goldfinch giving me and my camera careful consideration before returning to eating or gathering seeds.

Joe Pye (Eutrochium maculatum) blooms in soft patches of bright pink blossoms with purple stems along the eastern trail. There’s just enough moisture to keep their “feet wet,” and the Bumblebees (genus Bombus) hum contentedly as they search for nectar from both the buds and the shaggy, open blooms.

A Bumblebee sips on Joe Pye buds
A bumblebee moves delicately through Joe Pye blossoms

A Common Wood Nymph (Ceryonis pegala) butterfly bobbed along pausing periodically in the deep grass. I mistook it at first for the Little Wood Satyr because they look similar. But the Wood Nymph is almost twice as big and frequents grassy fields while Wood Satyrs prefer shady woods or wood edges. The Wood Nymph also appears a bit later in the summer than the Wood Satyr.  Glad my source, Butterflies of Michigan by Jaret C. Daniels set me straight!

The Common Wood Nymph likes sunshine and is twice the size of the Little Wood Satyr.

When I first saw three fledgling Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) near the top of the trail, they were all sitting on a sign together. But as I approached,  two of them rose into the air and began mock fighting, banging into each other, flying away, settling for a moment, and then mock fighting again. They were too quick for me to snap a photo. Meanwhile the third little bluebird went off on its own, first looking about and then pecking quietly in the grass as it had no doubt seen its parents do.

A solitary little Bluebird fledgling left its siblings to forage in the grass.

Eventually it flew to a bare tree far off in the field and calmly surveyed the whole field. The blue on its wing tips and tail feathers was much more apparent in the full morning sunlight.

The blue tail feathers of the solitary fledgling Bluebird shone in the light.

The two more social siblings finally settled next to each other on the edge of a sign. After all that mock fighting, they snuggled up against each other – though I wonder if an ornithologist would tell me that the play fighting was dominance behavior and the positioning of the one fledgling’s head over the neck of the other meant that they had settled the pecking order between them.

Two bluebird fledglings settle together after play fighting over the field.

I later spotted two fledgling Bluebirds next to a male adult in a tree along the Walnut Lane. I wondered if the two fledglings were the scrappy pair who rested on the sign. All three seemed to be focused on the field. Maybe they were looking for the solitary fledgling who preferred to be off on its own. It was fun to imagine family dynamics among bluebirds.

An adult male Bluebird with two fledglings in a tree along the Walnut Lane.

What I think was a small Amber Snail (family Succinea) left a shining trail behind it on a milkweed leaf as I left the Eastern Meadow. Amber snails are described as land snails but they also live in moist environments. I was a bit surprised to see one out in the sunshine when we’ve had such blistering hot days this summer!

An Amber snail explores the possibility of a Common Milkweed leaf.

At the curve of the path that leads to the Walnut Lane, a busy adult Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher  (Polioptila caerulea) did its best to keep up with a very flighty fledgling that begged insistently as it bounced from branch to branch. As you can see from the slight blur in its photo below, I had some trouble keeping up with the youngster myself! Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township Stewardship Manager, showed me a Gnatcatcher nest that fell near his home. So imagine how tiny that fledgling had to be at birth to fit in that lovely nest with possibly  as many as four other hatchlings! Look for the white eye ring and the white feathers on either side of  the dark tail feathers to identify these active little birds.

Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher foraging to feed its active fledgling.

A Short Trip Through More Summer Blooms

A glorious abundance of Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis) below the boardwalk north of the playground.

I couldn’t detail all the wildflowers and grasses that I enjoyed at Bear Creek Nature Park in the last week, so take a short stroll through the rest of them here. Their color adds so much joy to a summer walk!

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Life Calls Us Out to Explore

Little Henry explores Bear Creek Nature Park

Reg and I met twenty-month-old Henry trotting along the path west of the Center Pond as his parents took a rest on a nearby bench. He looked content to just keep moving up the trail, seeing what he could see. It was clear he was happy to be there. Henry reminded me of the third Bluebird fledgling that I described earlier – happy to be off on his own, exploring the big beautiful world that he’s just beginning to understand.

What’s so great is that Henry’s experience is accessible to all of us, no matter our age. If we get out in the natural world with our curiosity and eyes wide open, we can’t help being surprised and delighted by it all – even two small insects determined to fight the other off to pass on their DNA to a new generation. Bird parents exhaust themselves caring for their young. Wildflowers fight their way up out of hard soil to bud, bloom and send their seeds forth into the world. Butterflies, turtles, even fungi recycle death back into life. Life in all its multifaceted glory keeps struggling to persist. And it’s our responsibility as stewards of this glory to keep working hard to make that possible. Here in Oakland Township, the residents have made a commitment to support that call to stewardship – and even in the midst of a tough 2020, I think that’s something to celebrate. Bet you do, too.

THIS WEEK AT BEAR CREEK: Golden Fields Full of Monarchs, a Hummer and Other Beauties and Curiosities

 

Western slope from the north2
The golden western slope of Bear Creek from the northern end – full of Monarch butterflies this week.
Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino
Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

Open fields edged by trees have always been favorite places of mine.  And this Tuesday,in the fields on either side of the park, Monarch butterflies were everywhere!  Bear Creek may be hosting fall migrators on their way to Mexico – or we’ve just had a big hatch of  these beautiful and ecologically fragile creatures.  In fact, many butterflies, bees and darners fluttered, hummed and hovered over the swaying seas of gold in Bear Creek, while grasshoppers serenaded them beneath the tall stems.

Some speculate that humans love open fields because our ancient ancestors felt safe where they could see into the distance but escape into the trees.  I just know I’m very happy in a field full of wildflowers.

First, of course: The Monarchs and the Hummer!

After only seeing the occasional Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus) this summer, on Tuesday they were floating and fluttering all over the park!  Though the Joe Pye (Eutrochium maculatum) in the Eastern Old field seems to be past its peak,  its nectar drew in a Monarch (and other butterflies below) anyway.

Monarch on Joe Pye
A monarch explores the fading Joe Pye for a sip of nectar.

I considered myself lucky to get so close – but when I started down the Western Sloping Path from north to south, wow!  Monarchs surrounded me every step of the way.  I believe I saw at least a dozen there, but I’ll share just a few who were enjoying the New England Asters.

Monarch on New Englans aster
A female Monarch on a New England Aster
Monarch hanging New England Aster2
A female Monarch butterfly dangles from a clump of New England Asters.

At the very bottom of the sloping path, I watched as two Monarchs approached and fed on the same plant.

Two monarchs New England Aster
Two monarchs share a New England aster plant.

Just at that special moment, I saw the second Ruby-Throated Hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) I’ve ever seen at Bear Creek – a female, hovering momentarily as she looked at me and then zoomed off toward the woods.  No photo, of course, but perhaps this silhouette of a hummer in mid-hover from a few years ago will help you visualize the one I saw this week.

hummer silhouette copy - Version 2
A female Ruby-throated Hummingbird paused in mid-flight at the bottom of the Western Sloping Path

Fields Full of Wildflowers and their Beautiful Visitors

Eastern Tiger Swallowtails (Papilio glaucus) fluttered quickly across the golden fields.  I just caught sight of one in the far distance on the Eastern Path on Sunday so here’s a picture from another  August, when a male landed on Spotted Knapweed, an invasive wildflower.

yellow swallowtail 2
A Tiger Swallowtail lands on Spotted Knapweed, an invasive wildflower from Eurasia.

New England Asters (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) increasingly complement the Goldenrods’ glow as these vivid native flowers grow tall to reach their share of the thinning sunlight.

asters and goldenrod
Asters have grown tall this year competing with the height of Goldenrod and complementing its color.

Great Spangled Fritillary in the Eastern field paused on fading blossoms of Joe Pye to take a sip, just like the Monarch did.

Great spangled fritillary
A Great Spangled Fritillary pauses to sample the fading blossoms of Joe Pye Weed.

And the Silver-spotted Skipper (Epargyreus clarus) rested beneath a blossom of the same plant.

Silver-spotted skipper butterfly
A Silver-spotted Skipper explores the possibilities of the Joe Pye by hanging from a fading blossom.

About That Hum in the Old Fields…

Honey Bees (Apis mellifera), native Bumblebees (genus Bombus) and even Eastern Yellow Jacket Wasps (Vespula maculifrons ) hum among the flowers in the Old Fields.  Don’t worry; they’re much too busy gathering pollen, or in the case of wasps, eating nectar, to bother with us humans.

Bee on goldenrod2
A Honey Bee making the most of late season pollen on a Canada Goldenrod.

Always on the lookout for a quick munch, the big Canada Darner Dragonfly (Aeshna canadensis) zooms and dives over the blossoms below. This B-52 of insects consumes a lot of late summer bugs.

Canada darner in flight2
A Canada Darner flew over the reeds next to the Eastern Path, scouting for unwary insects.

Below the Darner, a modest wet-footed flower stands among the wetland reeds in the Eastern Old Field. According to Wikipedia, Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) got its name because our ancestors believed that since the leaves clasped the stem “wrapping the leaves in bandages around splints would help mend broken bones.”

Boneset
Reportedly Boneset got its name from a past belief that because the leaves clasp the stem, it would help with mending broken bones.

Down in the grass, the Red-legged Grasshoppers (Melanoplus femurrubrum) sing lustily as a backdrop to all this beauty by rubbing their rasp-like back leg against their forewing.

grasshopper on joepye1
Red-legged grasshoppers chirp in the grass, preparing to mate and lay their eggs in the soil for next year.

Bumblebee buzzed softly as it balanced carefully at the top of a stem of Canada Goldenrod

Bumblebee on goldenrod
A bumblebee balancing on the tip of a Goldenrod stem.

Yellow Jackets, like all wasps,  don’t do much pollinating because they lack the fuzzy body hair of bees.  They generally eat nectar but collect bugs for the protein they feed to their young.

Yellow jacket on hemlock
A Yellow Jacket Wasp explores a tiny blossom of Queen Anne’s Lace.

What’s That Bump on the Goldenrod, Anyway?

As you’re wandering through the Old Fields, you may have noticed some strange shapes on the stalks and tips of Canada Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis).   Galls are growths on plant stems caused by insects who lay their eggs on the plants in the spring.  When the larva hatch, they eat into the plant, causing it to form a gall around them.  Inside, the larva eats until late summer when it forms a pupa which spends the winter inside that protective covering.  In spring, the adult insect emerges to restart the life cycle. Galls don’t kill the Goldenrod; they just look funny!

The ball gall is the most common goldenrod gall and is formed by  the small Goldenrod Gall Fly (Eurosta solidaginis).  With its hard surface, this gall seems like a decent place to spend the winter, doesn’t it?  During the summer, though, some wasps lay eggs in galls and their larvae hatch and make a meal of the gall fly’s.   And in the winter,  Downy Woodpeckers drill holes in galls to reach the pupae,  and Gray Squirrels chew on galls to do the same.  Obviously enough Gall Flies survive in these dwellings to start a new crop next spring, so nature stays in balance. I think this gall may have been invaded by a wasp.

Goldenrod gall2
A ball Goldenrod gall formed by the larva of a Goldenrod Gall Fly who turns into a pupa and spends the winter there – though the holes indicate that perhaps a wasp has invaded this gall and its larva may have eaten the gall fly’s.

Goldenrods also harbor the very tiny (.2″) Goldenrod Gall Midge (Rhopalomyia solidaginis) which causes a rosette gall.  Once the grub of this tiny creature hatches, the stem of the goldenrod generally stops growing but keeps producing leaves which bunch up and make a nice hiding place for a midge’s larva to grow – along with spiders and other midges who may move in.   Sometimes, as in this photo, the stem will continue to grow above the rosette gall, but it’s much more spindly.

Goldenrod gall_edited-1
A rosette gall on Canada Goldenrod created by a single tiny insect but potentially a hiding place for other midges and spiders as well.

For years I saw willows in the park that seemed to be producing pine cones at the end of their branches.  Turns out they’re Willow Pine Cone Galls, made by a tiny (about .2″) midge scientifically known as Rhabdophaga strobiloides.  The pine cone-shaped gall that its larva causes can harbor many species.  According to the University of Wisconscin-Milwaukee’s Field Station website, “Beetles, caterpillars, sawflies, cynipid wasps, midges, and the eggs of meadow grasshoppers have been found inside pine cone galls.”  They’re now on a willow on the west side of the Center Pond and can also be seen in the wetland area east of the Eastern Path.

gall
No, not a pinecone! A Willow Pine Cone gall that can harbor over 30 different species besides the larva of its original midge.

The Eastern Old Field rolls down to the Center Pond and the Western one slopes dramatically to the west.  The trails that wind across them are full of strange and beautiful creatures and the plants that feed on and live in them.  Walk quietly. Look closely.  Listen carefully.  And when nature shares a secret with you, please share it with the rest of us.

*Footnote:  My sources for information, as well as Oakland Township Stewardship Manager Dr. Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Ritland, D. B., & Brower, L. P. (1991). The viceroy butterfly is not a Batesian mimic; Stokes Nature Guides:  A Guide to Bird Behavior Volumes 1-3, Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia; http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net.; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela; Butterflies of Michigan Field Guide by Jaret C. Daniels; University of Wisconsin's Bug Lady at www4.uwm.edu/fieldstation/naturalhistory/bugoftheweek/ for beetle info http://www.migrationresearch.org/mbo/id/rbgr.html for migration info, and invaluable wildflower identification from local expert, Maryann Whitman.

THIS WEEK AT BEAR CREEK: Native Wildflowers With Wet Feet – Plus Tiny Birds and Froggy Goes a-Courtin’

Well, High Summer in spades, eh?  Ninety degrees!  In the hot sun, buds are bursting all around Bear Creek, especially on plants that have made the township home for  millennia – our native wildflowers.

Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino
Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

Small birds venture out in the heat – some to take dust baths and some just practicing their foraging skills.  A small adult bird sings farewell, while other small birds are just beginning to nest! The soon-to-be-grown grasshopper nymphs camouflage perfectly in the dust at our feet while frogs bulge with amorous thrums as they start their courtship percussion.  So much to see and hear if  you can take the heat!

 

It might be best to come early in the morning and take a stroll down the sloped path on the park’s western side.  After a blistering day and a cooler night, heavy dew sparkles at the tip of every plant and bejewels the elaborate webs that spiders wove the day before.

spider web dew
Heavy morning dew bejewels a spider’s web on the Park’s sloping western path.

Native “Wet-Footed” Wildflowers Love Park Wetlands

Speaking of jewels, here’s a lovely native flower that flourishes now in moist areas of the park.   It’s called Orange Jewel Weed (Impatiens capensis) and here’s one bedazzled with early morning dew.

jewel weed
Jewel Weed wearing its own jewels in morning dew.

Jewel Weed is also called Spotted Touch-Me-Not because once it’s mature, the seeds will explode from thin, green-striped pods.  Here’s a link to a 47 second YouTube  video Ben posted earlier that shows this wild flinging of seeds!  Watch to the end to see it in slow motion.

Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis), a native shrub that loves wet feet, bursts with sputnik-like blooms near the southern deck in the Big Marsh and in the smaller marsh just north of the playground.  Look at all those tempting individual flowerlets for the bees and butterflies!

button bush bloom closeup
The sputnik-like bloom of a wet-footed shrub called Buttonbush.

Close by, on the opposite side of the boardwalk in the marsh north of the playground is one of my favorite native wildflowers, Cardinal Flower/Red Lobelia (Lobelia cardinalis), which always blooms in this area of the park in August.  It’s pollinated by hummingbirds who love red as much as I do.

cardinal flower
Cardinal Flowers bloom near the marsh north of the playground every August and they’re pollinated by hummingbirds!

Joe Pye Weed (Eutrochium maculatum) sinks its roots in the moist ground near the deck at the southern end of the Big Marsh and this year along the eastern path as well.  There are various  legends about the origin of the name, which is purportedly connected with a Native American healer.  This plant, which I had confused with Swamp Milkweed (before Maryann Whitman set me straight!), has dark purple stems rather than the green ones of Swamp Milkweed which I posted two weeks ago as it was hosting a Monarch butterfly.  

Joe Pye Weed
Native Joe Pye Weed is identified by its dark purple stem, pink blooms and love of wet places.

Long stems of native Showy Tick Trefoil (Desmodium canadense) bloom, too, in the moist soil at the edges of wetlands in the park, though as a prairie plant it can grow in drier spots as well.  The plant has long curving stems and is a bit leggy:

Showy tick trefoil whole plant
A native plant, Showy Tick Trefoil, grows 2-6 ft. tall.

Now look up close.  It’s individual flowers are beautiful.  The details in nature are frequently worth a closer look.

Blossoms of show tick trefoil
Showy Tick Trefoil blossoms deserve the name when you stop to look closely.

I learned from Ben that, happily, the cat-tails we see growing in moist areas and marshes around Bear Creek are native ones, called Common Cat-tails (Typha latifolia).  This species grows all over the world,  from sea level to 7500 feet!  Cat-tails contribute to the cleansing effect of wetlands by absorbing pollutants in the water.   Ben tells me that the way to distinguish native cat-tails from invasive  cat-tails,  which do occur in Michigan, is that the invasives have a space between the male part of the plant (at the top) and the female part (just beneath) which is the part that turns fluffy in the autumn.  Our native ones have the male part directly above the female.

Common Cat-tail Typha latifolia
Our native cat-tails contribute to the cleansing effect of wetlands by absorbing pollutants.

Froggy is a-Courtin’ All Right!

At the Center Pond, the male Green Frogs (Rani Clamitans) are thrumming away, establishing little territories and competing for partners. Here’s a view of one of the 50 or so frogs visible on the pond surface this week – and he’s just about to croak.

frog in duckweed
A Green Frog in the Center Pond – one of about 50 visible frogs – about to croak

And now one in mid-croak!

Frog mid-croak
A Green Frog mid-croak!

The Center Pond was a peaceful spot for listening on a hot morning.  A Muskrat cruised beneath the overhanging branches at the eastern end.  The two Wood Duck siblings were still hanging out together, one standing on one leg for reasons which are never clear to me.  Bees and hover flies buzzed by, dragonflies patrolled and the occasional trill of  goldfinch song made the morning complete.   Hope you can hear some of this on my amateur recording. You might want to turn up your volume to hear the birds in the background.

Tiny Avian “Teenagers”

For some reason, the smallest birds seemed to be most evident on a hot morning.  On the Walnut Lane, two juvenile House Wrens (Troglodytes aedon) took a dust bath, no doubt trying to rid themselves of the mites that pester birds this time of year.  Wren adults often put spider egg casings in their nests so the spiders will consume the mites that bother the nestlings.   But once out of the nest, the young have to cope with them on their own.

juvenile wren dust bath3
A fledgling wren settles into the dust for a bath, trying to rid itself of pesky mites beneath its feathers.
juvenile wren dust bath2
A little wren spreads its wing as it takes a vigorous dust bath.

The male wren sings beautifully in the spring and summer when he is courting. Have a listen at this link where it says “Typical Voice.” Once the nestlings are born, his song is much softer and shorter.

Male wren singing
A male wren sings exuberantly when courting (listen at link above) but becomes softer and shorter once the nestlings are born.

During nesting, you’ll see males and females neatly carrying little fecal sacks, like diapers, out of the nest to keep it tidy as they fly back and forth to feed the young.  The adults defend the nest, scolding vigorously if an an intruder comes near.  Once the nestlings fledge, the pair stays with them and feeds them for a couple of weeks.  The female may then head off to start a second brood with her first partner or another.  The male cleans out old nests in the area as potential sites and begins singing again.  The young, like the dust bathing ones above, are generally hard to see – very quiet, huddling in the leaves in low bushes.

Another tiny fledgling , the Blue-gray Gnatcatcher (Polioptila caerulea) hopped in the branches along the path leading into the park from Snell.  Perhaps you can see how tentative it looks; it may be out on its own for the first time. But no doubt the adults are close by, keeping an eye on their fledgling and feeding as necessary.

juvenile blue-gray gnat catcher2
A somewhat spindly young Blue-gray Gnatcatcher may be out on its own for the first time.
blue gray gnatcatcher juvenile
In this shot, the juvenile Gnatcatcher’s white eye ring is more visible. No doubt its parents are quiet in nearby bushes either feeding siblings or waiting to see how this one does on its own.

Small, Yellow Adults Sing  – One Saying Goodbye, Another Still Nesting!

Although not a juvenile, another tiny bird is singing its farewells all over the park.  I mentioned the Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichas)  in the spring when its bright yellow breast and black mask are easier to see in the bare branches.  I cannot seem to spot it among the leaves now, but I often hear its “witchety, witchety, witchety” call (hear “Typical Voice” at this link) when I ‘ve been near water in the park lately.  Listen soon, because Yellowthroats molt in early August and after that, they leave us for warmer climes.

common yellowthroat
The Common Yellowthroat isn’t easily seen now, but its “witchedy, witchedy, witchedy” song is heard in the park as it prepares to molt and leave us.

American Goldfinches (Spinus tristis) are nesting now, when thistle down is available for lining the nest and thistle seed, a preferred food, is available to feed the young.  The males are singing shorter songs than they did when pairing up and establishing territory in the spring.  But surprisingly,  both male and female Goldfinches sing while flying, a rare thing in the bird world.  It pays to stop and listen when you see their  bobbing, undulating flight or watch them balancing on a thin stalk to eat seed.

goldfinch on thistle
Goldfinches have their young later in the summer than other birds, using thistle down to line nests and thistle seed as a preferred food source.

Coming Attractions:

August is the time for grasshoppers galore!  This week I think I spotted the pale instar (immature stage of metamorphosis) of a Carolina Grasshopper (Dissosteira carolina).  I only saw it because I spotted its black/brown wings in short flight at my feet.  Once it landed , it was beautifully camouflaged in the gray dust of the trail, looking like a dry stick among the pebbles and short grass.  But if I’m right, before long, it will molt again into the big cinnamon brown body it sports in August. Though I diligently perused the amazing grasshopper reference book provided by a commenter, I still cannot be sure about grasshopper ID’s – so feel free to set me straight!

Carolina grasshopper nymph  Dissosteira  carolina
The instar of a Carolina Grasshopper, looking like a pale dry stick along the path.

And what I think are the smaller instars of the Red-legged Grasshopper (Melanoplus femurrubrum) spring here and there in the grass as well.  When fully developed later in August, it will have a green head, golden abdomen and bright red legs –  if I’ve identified it correctly!

tiny grasshopper
A tiny instar (immature stage) of a Red-legged Grasshopper will metamorphose in stages into a truly red-legged adult.

So come out in the earlier morning to enjoy the dew drops or brave the heat at midday if you relish summer sun.  There’s always something to surprise and delight you at Bear Creek.

*Quick footnote:  My sources for information, as well as Oakland Township Stewardship Manager Dr. Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Stokes Nature Guides:  A Guide to Bird Behavior Volumes 1-3, Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia; http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net.; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela; Butterflies of Michigan Field Guide by Jaret C. Daniels, and invaluable wildflower identification from local expert, Maryann Whitman.