Tag Archives: Song Sparrow fledgling

Bear Creek Nature Park: Nervous Fledglings Venture Forth and Missing Native Wildflowers Reappear!

Monarch heaven! Common Milkweed flourishes in the eastern meadow at Bear Creek Nature Park, providing lots of leaves on which Monarch caterpillars can thrive.

Summer is finally taking hold. Many of the flowers, butterflies and other insects are late this year, but they’re slowly appearing. Warm days allowed fledglings to emerge from their nests and use their tiny wings to pursue their parents into the fields and marshes, begging to be fed. Many of the young birds look a bit shaky out on their own. Parent birds whisk back and forth, beaks lined with seed or bearing a drooping caterpillar.   Wildflowers, long buried under invasive shrubs that were removed last fall, are emerging from the seed bank in all their glory. A time of renewal for sure!

Text and photos
by Cam Mannino

So join me on a virtual circuit of Bear Creek Nature Park – from the meadows, to the pond, through the woods to the marsh and back to monitor the bird boxes.  I’m happy to have you along!

Fledglings Venture Forth into Sunny Meadows

As I began my walk, rambling along the path through the eastern meadow,  I was suddenly aware of  lots of movement and noisy chattering in the bushes and small trees. Little fledglings were perching there, occasionally fluttering and calling, reminding their busy parents to bring them a meal. A little Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) struggled up onto a branch near an adult who took off immediately to look for food, leaving the youngster looking just a bit insecure!

A fledgling Red-winged Blackbird seems not quite ready to be alone in the world!

Another youngster perched on a branch seemed on high alert as  it looked out on the meadow.  The striped feathers and the fact that adult Song Sparrows (Melospiza melodia) were nearby makes me think that it’s their fledgling.

A young Song Sparrow looks anxiously off into the distance, waiting to be fed.

On a birding walk a week earlier, Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township Stewardship Manager, heard the high, wheezy call of the small Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher (Polioptila caerulea). Looking up we spotted a tiny nest near the top of a walnut tree. Two adult gnatcatchers were industriously taking turns bringing food to their young. The left photo shows what we could see of the nest and the parent bird from below, though the group did catch a glimpse at one point of a fluttering wing as a nestling leaned out to get the goodies. I’ve included an earlier photo of an adult  Gnatcatcher as it forages. (Click to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

Dragonflies and Damselflies Hover and Dart in the Meadows

Dragonflies maneuver across the meadows, moving up, down and forward, in their search for unwary insects or possible mates. The broken wood of the mowed invasive shrubs makes a handy resting place for them.  A juvenile male Common Whitetail dragonfly (Libellula lydia) rested quite near a more adult one, perhaps learning the ropes? The white patches at the bottom of the hind wings are field marks for the juvenile. When mature, the whole abdomen is covered in  a dusty white, referred to as “prunescence.”

The male Eastern Pondhawk dragonfly (Erythemis simplicicollis) also found the woody shards a great place to lie in wait. Though the female is bright green all over, the male’s colors transition from a green face, to a blue-green thorax and a slaty blue abdomen. Quite a handsome fellow!

The Eastern Pondhawk male has a green face and blue-green thorax with a lovely blue abdomen.

Lots of orange dragonflies cling to stalks in the meadow grass. They belong to the genus Sumpetrum, but knowledgeable folk in the Facebook group “Odonata of the Eastern United States” inform me that you can only determine the species of orange dragonflies if you have one in hand with a magnifying glass! And of course, I’m never in a summer meadow, it seems, without seeing the striking Widow Skimmer (Libellula luctuosa).

Damselflies seem more likely to prefer shady areas. But I do occasionally see them in tall meadow grass. Here’s a male Emerald Spreadwing Damselfly (Lestes dryas) I saw when wading through deep grass one warm afternoon. Like dragonflies, they consume a lot of mosquitoes, which pleases me and you too, I bet.

The Seed Bank Awakens as Restoration Begins

Perhaps the biggest thrill for me in the meadows this week, though, was the reappearance of long lost wildflowers. Evidently, beneath those invasive shrubs in the meadows near the pond, seeds and small plants of native wildflowers had been waiting for maybe decades while the fields were covered either with grazing fodder for cattle or abandoned to non-native plants. Now the sun and rain have reached the earth over them again and they are making a comeback!

Out in the meadow west of the pond,  large patches of Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) have emerged  where previously we only saw a single plant here or there.  And as you’ll see further down in the blog, the Monarch butterflies are already finding them.

Butterfly Weed and daisies BC (1)
Butterfly Milkweed spreads its brilliant orange in two big patches west of the Center Pond.

A spectacular wildflower blooming this year is one neither Ben nor I have ever seen before in Bear Creek Nature Park – the Michigan Lily (Lilium michiganense) – not to be confused with the non-native tiger lilies or the much less glamorous Orange Daylily (Hemerocallis fulva) which originated in Asia. I’d only seen this striking native with its  cup of curved petals, arching stem and showy stigma near the Wet Prairie on the Paint Creek Trail. But this beauty at Bear Creek waited patiently. Once warmth and moisture reached it, up it came just west of the Center Pond.  Michigan lilies can be tempting to hummingbirds and many butterflies. I saw one other bud, so I’m hoping for more!

The dramatic Michigan Lily reappeared in Bear Creek once invasive shrubs were removed.

Tall Meadow Rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum) and Fringed Loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata)  have staged a comeback, too. A Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum) at the edge of the path had produced its bright green berries on a wide spadix. The berries will turn a brilliant red in the fall.  Who knows what else will emerge over the summer and fall?

Butterflies Arrive – but Not Enough for Me, Yet!

As the mid-summer wildflowers finally begin to bloom, the butterflies are begging to appear.  Sun-loving Butterfly Milkweed hosted a Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) last week. Since this is a female Monarch, we can hope that it will lays its eggs either on the leaves of this milkweed or on one of the many Common Milkweeds in the eastern meadow.

With its long proboscis stuck in a blossom, it appears that this Monarch found the nectar to be just what it needed after its journey to Michigan,

Silver-spotted Skipper (Epargyreus clarus) took a while to show me the bright white spot on the lower (ventral) side of its hind wing. It looks quite different when the “silver spot” is out of sight!

A very tired, worn, Black Swallowtail sat quietly on the path one afternoon. According to Wikipedia, Black Swallowtails are generally longer-lived than other butterflies, unless subjected to bad weather or deprived of food. We’ve had pretty wild weather and the flowers are behind schedule, so perhaps that took its toll on this unfortunate female.

This Black Swallowtail with worn wings and a ragged swallowtail may have been ready to succumb from bad weather and an insufficient supply of nectar.

The Little Wood Satyr (Papilio polyxenes), though, seemed be just fine as it danced along in its bouncing flight from shade into the sun and back again.

Little Wood Satyrs venture into grassy areas that are near the shade of trees.

On to the Pond and Its Frog Song

White Water Crowfoot , an early summer native, is winding down at the Center Pond as the weather warms.

A few blossoms of White Water Crowfoot (Ranunculus longirostris) still peek from the background of abundant Duckweed (Lemna minor) at the Center Pond. The Northern Green Frogs (Rana clamitans) sprawl comfortably among it, floating at the surface and croaking in their banjo voices to attract mates. Since males have a tympanum (circular hearing device near the eye) bigger than their eyes and a yellow throat, this one staring at me intently was definitely a male.

A male Green Frog among the duckweed at the Center Pond

Frog “talk” this July:

I smiled at this small Midland Painted Turtle (Chrysemys picta marginata) who seemed to be listening to the frogs right along with me. But more likely, it was just basking in the warm sunlight after a cold spring, and trying to ignore the frog voices. It’s decorated nicely with bits of  Duckweed.

A small Midland Painted Turtle basked in the Duckweed while the frogs croaked around it.

Into the Woods

The woods just west of Bear Creek Marsh, now more open since cleared of invasive shrubs

The woods on the east side of the park let in so much more light now that the invasive shrubs have been removed! I keep hoping I’ll see more woodland wildflowers because of it. But deer are plentiful at Bear Creek so that’s a slim hope; they love to eat native plants and young saplings. But a couple of woodland flowers escaped their notice, probably because both of them are a bit fuzzy, which puts deer off:  Enchanter’s Nightshade (Circaea canadensis) and Panicled Tick Trefoil (Desmodium paniculatum). Both thrive in the dappled sunlight of the woods so perhaps I will see them spread as sunlight reaches more of the forest floor.

Unfortunately for humans, native Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans) is more abundant in the woods and everywhere else this year. But if you stay on the paths, you’ll be just fine. Look for a three leaved plant on which the center leaf has two “thumbs” but the right and left leaves have only one “thumb” – or look for a vine with that leaf arrangement and reddish “feet” clinging to the bark. Poison ivy isn’t poisonous for animals, though. It produces green berries that turn white in the fall just at the time when other berries are disappearing. So migrating birds gobble them up, enjoying a boost of energy and protein before heading south. Northern Flickers, Bobwhite Quail, Eastern Phoebes, Cedar Waxwings, Woodpeckers, Tufted Titmice, and American Robins all readily eat Poison Ivy berries. Raccoons and deer can eat the whole plant –  and they’re welcome to them, as far as I’m concerned.

Poison Ivy berries feed migrating birds in the fall and the whole plant is browsed by deer and eaten by raccoons!

I followed the song of an Eastern Towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus) high in the treetops as I entered the woods. I paused, listened, moved a little – no luck at seeing him in the high treetops. After about 10 minutes of following him from one tree to the next, I gave up and moved on. Luckily, the following week ,the birding group spotted one in the open at Cranberry Lake Park, so at least I can show you a somewhat fuzzy photo of  “the one who got away.”

An Eastern Towhee singing his “Drink your Teeeeeea” song at Cranberry Lake Park after one eluded me at Bear Creek

Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) sang one of its summer songs repeatedly, but it was also hidden in the leafy branches. It’s a classic, summer moment when this  unmistakable, ebullient call reverberates from the treetops!

Damselflies love the “spotlight effect” they get from the filtered light in the forest.  I came upon a female Ebony Jewelwing (Calopteryx maculata) who seemed to be trying to seduce an oddly unmotivated male.  Each posed on a sunlight leaf, but she would periodically fly briefly onto his leaf,  making him jump off for a few moments.  Perhaps she hoped to be pursued, but it was not happening while I was there. I’m afraid I caught her at an indiscreet moment when she paused to poop a few moments later….

A woodland moth slept soundly on a leaf at the edge of the woods one afternoon.  The caterpillar of the  White Slant-line Moth (Tetracis cachexiata) feeds on all kinds of native trees, so it’s a common moth in woods and forests all over Canada and the US. I love the simple design of its bright white wings and subtle yellow stripe.

The White Slant-line Moth’s caterpillar can feed on lots of North American trees so it’s a common sight in forests.

As I walked off the path in the woods to follow the Towhee, clouds of what I think were Hangingflies (genus Bittacidae) rose from the greenery under my feet. These harmless creatures are a relative of the also harmless Scorpion Fly (family Panorpidae) I saw last year at Bear Creek, named for the upward curve of the male’s abdomen.  Both belong to the order Mecoptera. But the delicate legs of Hangingflies cannot support their body weight! So instead they hang by their front legs beneath leaves and capture aphids, moths and other passing insects with their long back legs! Nature always finds a solution. I felt lucky to find one suspended in a spot of sunlight beneath a grass stem.

A Hangingfly can’t stand on its legs. It hunts by hanging from its front legs and catching other insects with the back ones.

Bear Creek Marsh – Wet, Green and Full of Life

A view of Marsh at Bear Creek looking incredibly lush in mid-summer.

The native Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis) has round, green buds just waiting to burst into balls of white blossoms in the summer heat. It lines one half of the southern platform overlooking the Bear Creek Marsh.

Buttonbush is about to bloom around the southern platform at Bear Creek Marsh.

Here’s what each of those buds will look like shortly!

Buttonbush Blossom in bloom!

At the northern platform, my husband spotted an adult Green Heron (Butorides virescens) standing among the cat-tails and rushes across from the deck.  It probably had been probing the mud for food.  According to the Cornell Ornithology Lab, it has a wide ranging diet – from frogs to fish, snails, insects –  even rodents! This one took off and landed high in a tree overlooking the marsh.  I just learned from Cornell that Green Herons actually nest in a large fork in a shrub or tree with overhanging limbs to hide the nest from predators like snakes, crows or grackles. I’d love to see the nest or young of this handsome bird!

A Green Heron among the cattails at Bear Creek Marsh

As usual in the summer, we looked for slow-moving mounds of mud or moss in the water, a sure sign of  Common Snapping Turtles (Chelydra serpentina).  We eventually saw four, a large one and 3 smaller ones.  It helped when the big one raised its head on that long neck.   The snappers weren’t much interested in each other at the moment and spent a lot of time munching on fresh underwater plants.

A Snapping Turtle cruising along in the marsh.

Of course, Red-winged Blackbirds dotted the marsh as well, clinging onto cat-tail stems and trilling.  On my first visit, a female scolded me continually while I sat on the bench.  Eventually, I realized that her nest was nearby when a male appeared with a worm or caterpillar in his beak.  He quickly dropped into the grasses near the water to feed his young.

A male Red-winged Blackbird with a worm or caterpillar for his nestlings and some pollen on his head!

A week later, I saw a Red-winged fledgling watching a male pick apart a cat-tail for seeds.  The little one tried to do the same but with little success since its cat-tail head had already been mostly eaten. Later the small bird landed on a cat-tail in the distance where the male obligingly stuffed some seeds into its beak, thank goodness!

A fledgling Red-winged Blackbird tries to pick apart a cat-tail like the adults do – but not as successfully.

Down below the platform, the American Bur-reed was in all stages of blooming – from buds to blossoms to fruits.  Marsh plants clean our waterways by storing nitrogen and phosphorus that would otherwise starve the water of oxygen.  And Bur-reed is one of the most effective marsh plants, storing four times more than some other aquatic plants.  Plants like Bur-reed are one of the reasons conservationists value wetlands so highly!

American Bur-reed cleans our waterways by storing the nitrogen and phosphorus in run-off.

As I headed back to the parking lot, I walked back along the boardwalk by the playground pond and noticed a sleepy, nocturnal Gray Tree Frog ( Hyla versicolor) resting peacefully on a lower railing.

The nocturnal Gray Tree Frog curled up on a railing at the playground pond.

Stewardship Fosters Nature Here – and Far Beyond the Township

Thanks for taking a virtual hike through Bear Creek with me.  I find it heartening that the stewardship crew and Dr. Ben are restoring habitat and fostering the wildlife in this park with all of its natural variety.  The invasive shrubs are removed and the seed bank brings back native flowers.  The native flowers bloom and butterflies and other insects thrive by feeding at them.  The nestlings are fed with the insects’ caterpillars and venture out of their nests and nest boxes to soar over the meadows. In the fall, some of them will travel great distances, bringing their beauty and their role in maintaining healthy habitats to places as far away as South America.

The humble bur-reed is allowed to flourish in the marsh. Because it cleans the water as it stores nutrients in its stems and leaves, Bear Creek’s water is healthier as it flows  out of the marsh, eventually reaching Paint Creek.  And the fish and other aquatic creatures and plants there benefit from cleaner water – and on it flows into the intricate, inter-locking systems of the natural world.

Stewardship is a lot of hard work but the reward is that it makes a difference not just in our township, but far beyond.  Wherever the creek’s water flows, wherever native seeds are carried by creatures, wind or water, wherever migrating birds and butterflies travel, a little bit of our township’s stewardship work has played its part in preserving our natural heritage.

Bear Creek Park: Eggs to Fledglings, Caterpillars to Butteflies, Everything Just Keeps Growing!

 

Spiderwort, a native wildflower, blooms in profusion even in the garden at the center of the parking lot at Bear Creek Nature Park!

June is an easy month to love. In the early weeks, May’s buds transformed into blooms. Turtles and dragonflies emerged from the ponds. Butterfly and grasshopper eggs hatched into caterpillars and tiny nymphs. May migrators and some year-round birds completed their nests and were busily laying eggs.

Cam at Tree Swallow nest box. Photo by V. Morganti

And then came really warm days – or even some very hot days this year! –  and by the end of the month, life had quickly moved on. The spring blooms produced their seeds and subsided as the summer flowers began to emerge. Bees buzz along the trails. Dragonflies dominate the open meadows and wetlands. Damselflies, like colorful, winged sticks, pause briefly by the pond and other strange flying creatures hunt in the shade. The fledglings emerge from nests, awkward and downy, begging to be fed by exhausted parents. So much to see that I find myself rushing from park to park, trying not to miss anything! So here’s just a selection of what came my way at Bear Creek Nature Park during the first month of summer.

Early to Mid-June:  Brave Beginnings

The Bear Creek Wetlands in Early June

So much happens near the wetlands as summer begins. Two nests graced either side of the viewing deck at the Center Pond. On the west side, high above the water, a Baltimore Oriole’s (Icterus galbula) carefully woven sack swayed with every breeze, rocking either the female brooding her eggs or a cuddle of nestlings with every breeze. While we birders watched one Wednesday morning, the female arrived at the nest and disappeared into it, followed by the attentive male. This lovely photo of the male arriving at the nest was taken by Ewa Mutzenmore, a member of our group.

The male Baltimore Oriole arrives at the nest. Photo by E. Mutzenmore of the birding group.

He gave us the eye as he leaned in to feed either his brooding mate or perhaps their nestlings.

The male Oriole keeping an eye on the camera.

And then, tail up, evidently unfazed, he proceeded to stuff foraged insects into a waiting beak below.

Tail up, the male oriole feeds his nestlings or his mate who arrived before him.

Ewa, whose Oriole photo is above, mentioned having seen a very large Northern Water Snake  (Nerodia sipedon) swimming away at the pond when she was there last and suddenly Ben VanderWeide, our Natural Areas Stewardship Manager, spotted it! Its long, thick body was wound around the branches of a willow bush just west of the dock. Though not venomous, I wouldn’t advise picking one up or harassing it; it will bite and spray you with musk to defend itself. Unfortunately, Ewa and I both could only come up with a photo of parts of its winding body; it just didn’t move a muscle. But here’s a link where you can see a photo of its dark brown head. The birds are evidently safe from it, though fish,frogs, and salamanders better beware!

The body of a large, but non-venomous, Northern Water Snake wound into a bush limb near the Center Pond.

As I approached the pond on a later afternoon, another impressive predator rose like a submarine from the silvery pond.  A large Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina) up-periscoped to check me out.  Isn’t their snout a curious shape?  It’s more important to be cautious around Snappers when they’re on land than in the water, because they do bite if threatened and have extremely long necks. And generally, they’re on land to lay eggs.

The head of a female Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) popped out of the bushes for a look around before she winged down and disappeared into her nest in a small tree just east of the dock. (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

 

Over in the playground pond, a tiny (about silver-dollar-sized!) Painted Turtle (Chrysemys picta) climbed onto a log for probably one of its first basks in a spot of sunlight.

A silver-dollar-sized Painted Turtle learns the fine art of sun basking.

As I approached the dock one cloudy day, a lone male Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) stood forlornly gazing out at the water from a floating log, not a mate in sight.  When he heard my approach, his beautiful head twisted toward me with a  stare that implied he’d prefer to be alone. Then he dropped into the water and glided away.

A lone, male Mallard notices me with some misgivings about my presence.

When he departed, a much tinier male landed on the dock, the Dot-tailed Whiteface Dragonfly (Leucorrhinia intacta), whose name says it all!  I get a huge kick out of his Mickey Mouse-style face.

A male Dot-tailed Whiteface looks for prey or a mate at the edge of the Center Pond dock.

At Draper Twin Lake Park a few weeks ago, I’d seen the female Dot-tailed Whiteface, who is more elegant, if less amusing.

A female Dot-tailed Whiteface dragonfly near the marsh at Draper Twin Lake park.

And one Sunday morning, while scanning Bear Creek marsh, I heard the unmistakable whinnying call of a Sora (Porzana carolina), a bird that tends to be heard and not seen. This secretive bird is evidently abundant according to Cornell Ornithology Lab, but likes to stay hidden deep in the cattails and reeds. Looking at this photo by inaturalist.org photographer by Mike Baird, you’d never guess that such a chunky bird with stubby wings had migrated here from Central or South America! And check out those feet!

A Sora as photographed by a gifted and generous photographer on iNaturalist.org, Mike Baird. (CC BY)

Several strangely beautiful insects shelter or hunt in shady spots near wetlands, too.

A male Orchard Oriole (Icterus spurius) appeared for the birders at the top of the southern hill away from the wetlands, though they sometime nest along the edges of marshes and rivers. This poor fellow seemed wildly distracted by some itchy insect, probably Feather Mites (super family Analgoidea) which often infest nests in early summer. He just barely stopped preening for a moment! As a victim of biting midges in spring, I could sympathize!

Sun and Shade Meant Blooms, Juicy Leaves – and More Insects!

Closeup of a tiny Monarch Butterfly caterpillar munching on a leaf of Common Milkweed.

The birders saw four Monarch Butterfly caterpillars (Danaus plexippus)  – one of them above – munching contentedly on leaves of  Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca). It’s wonderful to know that natural areas management of our parks makes them places where milkweed gets ever more plentiful – and that, as a result,  migrating monarchs find their way here to lay their eggs  for the next generation.

Nearby, the tiniest of Black-legged Grasshopper nymphs (Melanoplus femurnigrumsat quietly enough that I could a good look at this little one, less than a half inch long! It’ll probably molt 4 more times before it reaches adulthood.  Pretty special eyes, eh?

A tiny grasshopper nymph watches the lens carefully as I take a closeup.

Twelve-spotted Skimmer (Libellula pulchella) found a budding stem to be the perfect place to pause and scan us birders and the prey we might have stirred up as we walked among the plants in the parking circle.

A Twelve-spotted dragonfly pauses in the garden at the center of the parking lot.

In the native gardens near the parking lot and along the Walnut Lane in the center of the park, early June brought colorful blossoms and the seeds of early spring flowers that  were already maturing their seeds for next year’s crop inside their fruits. Such a variety of colors and shapes! (Use pause button for time to read captions.)

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A Late June Visit To See What Had Changed

Wow!  The shy flowers of late spring and early summer had been replaced by the big, bold native milkweeds. Monarch caterpillars seem to have finished munching on Common Milkweed leaves and spun their chrysalises; some have yet to emerge and some may already be flying. Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) is ready to host any number of butterflies this summer. If you’re looking for color in your garden, Butterfly Milkweed’s a nice native choice because it remains an attractive bunch instead of spreading like Common Milkweed – and pollinators find milkweeds irresistible!

Mites must still be giving birds a hard time, though.  This itchy little Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher (Polioptila caerulea) preened just as insistently as the poor Orchard Oriole earlier in the month! This gnatcatcher is small, only a bit larger than a hummingbird and smaller than a wren and can be identified by its white-edged tail. According to Cornell Lab, they sometimes build up to seven nests in a season because they frequently give up a nest due to mites, predators and problems with Cowbirds and others that lay eggs in their nests. Hope this little one persists despite all those tribulations!

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On the western slope, an adult Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) and its fledgling paused in a bush. The adult looked around checking for trouble, then hopped onto the ground, looking for seeds or insects to feed the youngster. The youngster hopped clumsily in the bush, waiting for its parent return, which fortunately resulted in something to eat!

The American Goldfinches (Spinus tristis) wait until late June or July to begin their families. They will use the fluffy pappus from thistles and other plants to line their nest and they feed on the thistle’s seeds, a favorite food. It looked as though this couple was already making the most of these Field Thistles (Cirsium arvense) that are just getting started.

This pair of American Goldfinches is just beginning its breeding season.

A bit later in the Eastern Meadow, a Halloween Pennant Dragonfly (Celithemis eponina) was coping with a stiff breeze by holding tight and adjusting its wing positions to stay aloft.  This one could be looking for a mate; maybe that’s why it was working so hard to stay visible on a bare perch above the wildflowers.  Once it finds a mate, they’ll both head to the nearest wetland where the female will dip her abdomen into the water, leaving eggs behind.

A Halloween Pennant Dragonfly adjusting its wings in a brisk wind

The Black-legged grasshopper nymphs had changed a bit when I made my last visit. This one now had a bit more black-legged-ness! I assume it had gone through its second molt. I didn’t take a closeup of this one so you could see how tiny these nymphs really are.

The wetlands, as usual, were full of life too. A juvenile Green Frog (Rana clamitans) had left  its youth as a tadpole behind and was sitting waiting for the nearest flying insect at the Playground Pond. The green dots are Water Meal (g. Wolffia) which covers the playground pond along with spots of Common Duckweed (Lemna minor) – aptly named since ducks do scoop up both plants and make a meal out of them!

Nearby, a tiny Amber Snail (G. Succinea) snacked delicately on the seeds of Orchard Grass (Dactylis glomerata). I wonder if those black spots on the blossoms are places where the snail has secreted extra slime to stay attached while eating?

An Amber Snail munches on seeds of Orchard Grass.

While monitoring a vernal pool at Bear Creek, the crew brought up a tiny Crayfish (family Cambaridae). It was too tiny to determine a species but it certainly had all of the equipment it needed for surviving in its underwater world.  Crayfish molt six to ten times in their first year, so this one has a long way to go before adulthood!

A tiny crayfish from a vernal pool. It will molt 6-10 times in its first year.

It was the Best of Times, It was the Worst of Times…

A bumblebee head down in an unusual white blossom of Common Milkweed

Summer is glorious, right?  Who could argue with that?  All the blossoms, birds, whispering leaves and yellow sunlight pouring over it all.  Or as the poet,  e.e. cummings so ebulliently put it, “the leaping greenly spirits of trees/and a blue true dream of sky; and …everything/which is natural which is infinite which is yes.”

But I wonder sometimes if migrating birds, for example, might grouse a bit about cummings’ enthusiasm and ours. Summer is a busy, hard-working time for birds! I’ve become so aware of this by monitoring bluebirds this summer and it’s true of all birds, really. First there are courtship rituals that can involve singing constantly for hours. A diminutive House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) or the Red-eyed Vireo (Vireo olivaceus) may sing their territorial/courting songs a hundred, even a thousand times in a day! Nest-making often involves long days or even a solid week of gathering material and then weaving, or scraping, or even digging a safe place for their eggs. And once eggs hatch, their young sit begging in the nest and later from every branch, crying “MORE FOOD!” Imagine having young every summer, frequently multiple broods of young,  and working constantly to be sure at least some of them survive despite predators of all kinds – plus coping with those miserable feather mites!

And yet, thank goodness, they return to us each year to go through it all because the show must go on! The genes must be passed to a new generation! I’ve come to admire the sheer tenacity of nature in facing the vicissitudes of life without homes in which to retreat at night or when the weather is harsh. Learning more about the threats and difficulties that birds overcome, I’m doubly pleased to see them with their breasts turned to the sun on a cool morning, or to hear their quiet evensong calls around me as the sky grows dark. They seem to still be able to pause now and then from all the hubbub of their lives and just “be” for a few moments. I take that as a lesson for my busy life – and probably yours too.

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. e.e.cummings poem "I thank You God for most this amazing" in 100 Selected Poems pub. by Grove Press