Tag Archives: Swamp Rose

Late Winter Sparkle and Early Spring Music: Charles Ilsley and Cranberry Lake Parks

Do you mind if I briefly take you back to February? I know we’re all getting itchy to  step into spring. But here in southeast Michigan, the line between the two seasons blurs a bit in late February and March.

Photos and text
by Cam Mannino

So I want to remember that the tail end of winter has it charms – and then spend some time relishing the early signs of spring before the Equinox.

 

 

FEBRUARY:  Sparkling with Ice, Patterned with Prints and Revealing the Shapes of Slopes and Seedheads!

Winter sparkling down the Hickory Lane at Cranberry Lake Park in February

Accompanied by our familiar year ’round birds and a few winter visitors, bundled against bitter days, I spent most of February in two parks – Cranberry Lake Park and Charles Ilsley Park. I puzzled over prints in the snow, admired ice patterns and worked at  re-identifying last year’s wildflowers by their winter architecture.

Wild Neighbors Make Brief Appearances on a Winter Day

It’s always a great comfort to me on a winter walk, when my numb fingers resist taking photos, that birds and animals keep me company. At Charles Ilsley Park, an American Red Squirrel (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) scrambled onto a branch near me with its mouth stretched around a large nut, perhaps a walnut that had lost its outer covering since dropping last fall. The squirrel was so intent on conquering its prize nut that I got a quick shot before it jumped out of sight.

An American Red Squirrel with a nut almost too big for its jaws!

On a Cranberry Lake Park walk in February, through the thicket of tree branches, the birding group caught sight of a Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) on a perch near the lake, scanning for prey. It had plumped up against the cold and looked just a bit disgruntled. Perhaps that morning had brought slim pickings.

A cold, perhaps hungry Red-tailed Hawk didn’t look too happy on a cold morning near Cranberry Lake.

American Tree Sparrows (Spizelloides arborea) visit us just for the winter and are everywhere now. With their gray breasts centered with a black spot and a nice chesnut cap and eyeline, they’re by far the most obvious sparrow in the parks in winter – and they make a friendly twitter when they’re flocking. On my coldest day at Cranberry, I saw one huddled in the dry stems of a field as an icy wind ruffled its feathers. It would venture out periodically to grab a few seeds and then hunker down again in the grass. But on a sunnier day, one perched quite calmly on a dry stem of non-native Common Mullein. At Ilsley, several whooshed up from the fields in small flocks and dispersed as I passed. [Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.]

Across Ilsley’s central prairie, high up on a tall snag, I spotted a Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus). If you click on the left photo, you’ll see its head peeking above a short branch in the crotch of the dead tree. I began to take a series of slow, cautious steps in its direction, but it spotted my camera raised and sailed off into the distance, the large white patches under each wing flashing in the sunlight. To the right you can see those white under wings in a fine photo by dpdawes at inaturalist.org, who got a lot closer to her/his bird than I did to mine!

Near Ilsley’s north prairie, a lengthy repetition of the “Kwirrrr” call alerted me to my constant winter companion, the Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus). Hitching along a distant tree trunk searching out insect eggs or larvae, this male multi-tasked, firmly establishing his territory with calls while continuing to forage. I clicked the shutter in a hurry when he paused to check for any threats or other males in the area.

A foraging Red-bellied Woodpecker stops foraging long enough to be sure another male isn’t in his territory!

At Ilsley, I followed a flock of American Crows (Corvus brachyrhynchos) as they surged from one treetop to the next. Eventually one ventured close to me, as if checking my intentions. From what I learned in the Cornell crow class, this is likely an older member of a crow family since it has a few white feathers.

The white feathers on this crow make me think it could be an old one. Crows can live as long as 19 years.

And then there are creatures who just have a faulty sense of timing. Somehow, my husband and I spotted this tiny fly perched on the edge of a boot print at Charles Isley Park. Dr. Gary Parsons from Michigan State identified it for me as a Snail-eating Fly  (family Sciomyzidae, possible  genus Dictya), so named because the larval young of this fly have a preference for snails. He guessed that it probably “woke from it winter nap” prematurely, fooled by  a warm, melting winter day. I like its intricately patterned wings and legs!

A tiny Snail-eating Fly poised at the edge of a boot print at Charles Ilsley Park.  It most likely mistook a warmish winter afternoon for a spring day .

Some Wild Neighbors Leave Only Hints of their Presence

Part of the fun in a winter walk is trying to figure out a creature’s presence only from the prints they leave behind. Walking down the Hickory Lane, I saw the flash of an Eastern Gray Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) as it dashed across the trail and into a tree hole so slim it seemed impossible that the squirrel could  fit inside! But it left its tracks behind as it approached the tree and leapt toward the trunk.

A large mammal left clues to its activity down near Cranberry Lake. I approached the lake on an icy day. I wanted to see  if the beaver I’d seen evidence of last year had come out of its den again to find some extra tree bark to chew on this winter. As I approached, bright scarlet fruits caught my attention, vivid against the silver of a frosty morning. Dr. Ben VanderWeide, our township Stewardship Manager, later identified them as the rose hips of a Swamp Rose (Rosa palustris). Color is such eye candy in the winter months!  And just beyond, as I prowled the frozen ground near the lake, was the evidence I sought – a tree stump recently gnawed to a point by what could only be a North American Beaver (Castor canadensis).

I cautiously stepped out onto the ice, but it held. Off in the distance, the snow lay like white satin on the lake’s surface. Around a bend in the shore, the beaver’s den loomed a bit larger this year and yes! I could see the raw end of a recently cut log protruding from its den. How the beaver stuck it in there mystifies me but the bark should make a cozy meal for the beaver/s inside on a cold day. A few other recently added sticks protruded from either side.

Pondering Snow Prints

Tracks of all kinds filigree the landscape on a winter morning. The birding group noticed the small canine tracks of what we guessed was some sort of Fox probably a Red Fox (Vulpes vulpes) since it was in an open area rather than a woods. A neat line of single prints usually means a wild canine and these were rather small as they curved around the turkey breeder building at Cranberry Lake Park. The coyote’s tracks at Charles Ilsley Park have the same features but are considerably larger. Coyotes are mating now so you’ll see more of their twisty, fur-filled scat along the trails as they mark the boundaries of their territory. (I’ll spare you a scat photo….)

Lots of smaller creatures are scurrying about on the snow during the night. An indecisive White-footed Mouse (Peromyscus leucopus) left its “sewing machine” tracks in the snow as it apparently darted out into a trail twice, retreated each time and then finished dashing across to dive into a tiny hole on the far side. I’m wondering if the strange track in the center photo is that of a Meadow Vole (Microtus pennsylvanicus) that nosed about just under the surface of the snow.  I’m guessing that from the fact that Voles stay closer to the surface when they burrow in the grass, leaving larger furrows than the smaller mice. But if anyone has a better idea, I’m open to it. And by the size, I’m guessing that tidy little squirrel print on the right is probably that of a pausing American Red Squirrel.

And can anyone guess what made this pattern of polka-dots all over the snow around Cranberry Lake Park one February morning? My first guess was snow melt dripping from the limbs, but I’ve seen a lot of thawing snow and I’ve never seen this tapioca design before. Maybe air bubbles being driven up from below? Anyone have a theory on this one?

What could have made these polka-dots in the snow cover? I’m mystified.

Admiring the Stark Architecture of Last Year’s Wildflowers

One of my goals is to be as familiar  with wildflowers in winter as I’m becoming in summer. I love the linear designs they make against the sere backdrop of a winter field. Here are a few examples paired with their summer finery.

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MARCH:  The Sweet Song of Running Water,Migrators Appear, Buds Swell –  but Can It Last?

Is it spring yet, or the last hurrahs of winter? It was hard to tell on an early spring  day when snow still lay beneath the russet tapestry of dry plants on Charles Ilsley Park’s west prairie. But a brisk wind chased the cloud shadows across the field and it sure felt like spring. (Turn up your volume to hear the wind and the Blue Jay calling.)

First Bursts of Irrepressible Spring Song!

A good pre-spring sign is that male birds have already begun trilling their familiar mating songs. A male Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) flew down near me and threw back his head to let forth his song. As usual, he turned 180 degrees to sing in both directions, in an effort, no doubt, to broadcast his presence as widely as possible!

A Northern Cardinal singing his spring song at Charles Ilsley Park

We’re all pretty familiar with the Black-Capped Chickadee’s call (Poecile atricapillus). After all, “Chickadee-dee-dee” is how it got its name! But oddly, in spring they sing a very simple, two note song to establish territory or attract a mate. I couldn’t get a good shot of the lothario that I watched hopping manically from limb to limb at Ilsley, so the song recording below is his, but the photo is from an early spring in 2016.

A Chickadee in Red-Twig Osier.

The Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) have been around off and on all winter. But just lately, they’ve started checking out the bluebird boxes in our parks. Here’s a female evaluating the real estate at Charles Ilsley Park.

A female Eastern Bluebird checking out a nest box at Charles Ilsley Park.

Not all spring sounds, though, are mating calls. Our township stewardship manager, Dr. Ben VanderWeide, heard the exquisitely high, piercing call of two Golden-crowned Kinglets (Regulus satrapa) at Cranberry Lake Park during the bird walk last week. Cornell tells us that “This is one of the first bird songs that people stop being able to hear as they age.” Ahem…that’s me, I’m afraid. I did see them quickly through my binoculars but never got a camera on them. Here’s a photo of one of these pretty little migrators taken by cedimaria, a photographer at iNaturalist.org. Sometimes these Kinglets appear during the winter in our area, but it’s more likely that the one we heard and saw was on its way north to breed at the tip of the Mitten, or in Canada.

A Golden-crowned Kinglet by photographer cedimaria (CC BY-NC)

Sandhill Cranes (Antigone canadensis) flew far over head at Ilsley, braying their prehistoric call and by the first week in March, a male Red-winged Blackbird burst forth with his buzzing trill on a thistle stalk. The females will arrive in a few weeks.

The Trickle of the Thaw and Buds!

At Ilsley, water seemed to be finding it way everywhere as the ice melted in various wetlands. Within the eastern prairie, a narrow rivulet appeared to have sculpted a beautiful little ice cave under the snow. My husband and I were mystified as how it formed.  We thought perhaps the water beneath the ice had drained away along the narrow line to the right and part of the ice had dropped, because the inside of the cave was bone dry. But we’re just guessing. Anyone have a better theory?

A little ice cave formed on the eastern edge of a wetland in the prairie at Charles  Ilsley Park.

I could envision that  a small creature might shelter overnight in this wee cave for protection, since the ground within was dry!

The ice cave looked as though it could shelter a small creature at night.

Elsewhere at Ilsley, the trickle of water signaled hope for spring. Over in the woods, one of the ice covered wetlands had melted enough that a stream ran away from it into the trees.

A melting wetland feeds a stream running through the woods on the northern side of Ilsley’s Eastern Prairie.

And nearby, a brilliant spear-shaped mound of moss took advantage of all the water and glowed in the thin sunlight.

A spear of moss near at wetland at Ilsley.

The swelling, red buds of Silver Maples (Acer saccharinum) always give me hope in March so I keep checking on them each time I explore the path into Ilsley from the west. And in Cranberry Lake Park, Ben spotted the first cottony plumes of Pussy Willow (Salix discolor) breaking into the cold spring air. I’ve loved those fuzzy signs of spring since childhood when they bloomed right outside my family’s  kitchen window.

The Best Kind of “Social Distance”

The Northern Prairie at Charles Ilsley Park in early March

As I finish this blog, the COVID-19 virus has taken hold in Michigan and we are instructed to avoid crowded places and keep a “social distance” from others for at least the rest of the month. That certainly makes perfect sense, but it can make all of us feel a bit isolated. Luckily, nature invites us out into the fields and woods where no threats exist really, except maybe wet feet and some spring mud. Wildlife has always believed in “social distance” so no problem there; they consistently respect my space by taking off when they see me  – as my camera can attest!

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So now’s the ideal moment to re-acquaint yourself and your family with the infinite variety of the natural world. Leave behind the confines of a centrally heated home and let the moist, cold air of March tickle your nose and redden your cheeks. Open a door and listen to the dawn chorus of the songbirds. (Listen for Sandhill Cranes down in the marsh at the end!)

Watch for bursting buds and catch your own reflection in a mud puddle.  Discover the joys of darkness and silence while watching the stars on a clear, moonless night.  Maybe we can rediscover all that we’ve been missing in the hubbub of a “normal” day. And that way, we can turn our “social distance” into an adventure in the wild  for ourselves and our children.

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

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

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

Industrious Parent Birds and Their Demanding Offspring!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

A young Barn Swallow working on its wing technique

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

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

An Unusual Sighting

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

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

Butterflies Big and Very Small

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

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

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

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

The Red Admiral butterfly migrates from the south each spring.

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

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

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

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

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

Mating Little Wood Satyr butterflies

Flowers Blooming at Draper Now that are New to Me

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

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

 

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

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

 

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Turtles vs. Creatures That Love Their Eggs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footnote: My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Pollinators of Native Plants by Heather Holm; Stokes Nature Guides: A Guide to Bird Behavior Volumes 1-3; Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia;  Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela; other sites as cited in the text.

OUT AND ABOUT IN OAKLAND: November’s Austere Beauty at Draper Twin Lake Park

Trees on Prairie Draper
Autumn color lined the prairie restoration at Draper Twin Lake Park in late October
Cam walking into BC
Blog and photos by Cam Mannino

My last blog on Draper Twin Lake Park was in April. So I thought it was high time to return there to share how its lake, wetlands and prairie transform in autumn. I began the first week in November, just before the first hard frost,  and ended in the cold, gray days before Thanksgiving. Autumn brings such dramatic changes. Brilliant leaves, hardy fall flowers, migrating birds and insects give way to  winter birds and the quiet, brown-and-gray austerity of November.

In the April blog, I explained, with a map, the three sections of Draper – the western lake section, the central large marsh that separates the two hiking areas, and the eastern marsh/prairie section. You can refresh you memory at this link, if you like. So join me for a series of  virtual  hikes in this unusual tripartite park to watch nature hunkering down for winter.

The Western Trail to Draper Twin Lake: Early November

Sunset Draper Lake
Draper Twin Lake in early November

As you can see above, the lake was beautifully calm one early November afternoon. An angler at the fishing dock that day shared his excitement from the previous day when he’d caught a 25 inch Largemouth Bass (Micropterus salmoides) there.  In the photo above, you can see the water circles made by something surfacing and by the angler’s line in the water, but luck wasn’t with him that afternoon.

In the distance, a pair of Mute Swans (Cygnus olor) floated peacefully along the far shore, apparently unconcerned about the angler and his line.

Swans across Draper Lake
Mute Swans across Draper Lake

The grace of these non-native birds is irresistible, but how I wish I could see native Trumpeter Swans (Cygnus buccinator) in our township parks. In childhood, I saw one on a pond near Orion Road, but they aren’t common. The more aggressive Mute Swans have affected their numbers by commanding the prime nesting sites. And native trumpeter swans were almost wiped out in the 19th century by two forces –  the fashion industry that coveted their feathers and the hunting of muskrats and beavers whose lodges made dry nesting places for native swans then as they do for Canada Geese today.

In the water alongside the dock, a few fruits of the Swamp Rose (Rosa palustris) remained on their dark stalks. I wish I’d experienced this native plant’s pink blossoms and sweet fragrance when it was in bloom.  (Here’s an Illinois Wildflowers link to a photo.) Aren’t the bright crimson spots of the rose hips pretty against the silvery dried grasses in the marsh?

Berries in marsh Draper
The rose hips of Swamp Rose in the water off the edge of the fishing deck

Some yellow and lavender leaves crowded the railing at the end of the dock near the shore. Ben VanderWeide, our Natural Areas Stewardship Manager, identified them as possibly the stems of a small Basswood tree. I wonder if the deer and rabbits that like to eat Basswood saplings during the winter will let this one grow. Basswood is fine-grained and soft so it’s often been used by whittlers to carve small objects like children’s toys.

Mystery plant draper 2
The autumn colors of a small Basswood tree near the edge of the lake

When I headed back to the western parking lot in early November, many of the autumn leaves along the trail were still russet and golden.

Trail from lake
Trees and bushes along the trail back to the parking lot were still leafed in russet and yellow.

One of the last insects of autumn, a Yellow-legged Meadowhawk/Autumn dragonfly, flitted down the trail, keeping me company as I headed back from the lake. Its clear wings with their brush of orange at the base, as well as its orange-red body provide good camouflage once it lands on a fallen leaf.

Yellow-legged Autumn Dragonfly Draper DTL
A Yellow-legged Meadowhawk/Autumn dragonfly almost disappears against a fallen leaf

After an afternoon shower, I saw a Bur Oak leaf (Quercus macrocarpa) along the trail beaded in silver raindrops.

Leaf with raindrops Draper
The leaf of a Bur Oak beaded after a rain.

On the way out of the parking lot, a cheerful “family” of Shaggy Mane mushrooms (Coprinus comatus) stood at attention at the edge of the parking lot.  The overnight appearance of mushrooms on autumn days  almost makes up for the thinning out of wildflowers.

Family of Shaggy Mane Mushrooms Draper Lake
A “family” of Shaggy Mane mushrooms at the edge of the Draper parking lot in early November

The Western Trail to the Lake:  Late November

A week or so later, I returned to the lake near sunset and the view had changed quite dramatically but was still very lovely.

Sunset at Draper marsh Late
Sunset at Draper Lake at sundown a bit later in the week

The Whorled/Swamp Loosestrife that surrounds the fishing dock had gone to seed. Ben identified this native wildflower for me and called it “a very nice plant to see in wetlands and around the margins of lakes.” It had purple blossoms in the summer and now made a graceful silhouettes against the autumn reflections in the lake.

 

mystery plant draper lake
Whorled/Swamp Loosestrife silhouetted against fall reflections in Draper Lake

The pointed male section at the top of Cat-tails (genus Typha) had fertilized the female “brown-suede” section below earlier in the summer. Now huge plumes shed their seeds at the edge of the dock in the rosy light of an autumn sunset.

Seeding cat-tail Draper
A seeding cat-tail at sunset

By late November, the pair of swans had probably departed for points south and one breezy afternoon, a trio of Canada Geese (Branta canadensis) took their place on Draper Lake. They drifted with the wind, dipping their long necks below the surface periodically to feed on submerged vegetation.

3 Geese Drifting Draper
In late November, three Canada Geese drifted effortlessly down the pond, carried by the wind.

The Shaggy Mane mushroom family had disappeared, as mushrooms can do so suddenly and completely. But as I got back to the parking lot on my later visit, some orange mushrooms glowed in the distance on a dead branch. My best guess is that they are toxic Jack O’Lantern  mushrooms (Omphalotus illudens) which cluster on dead wood in the fall. But I’m no mushroom expert so feel free to correct me!

Orange mushroom closeup Draper
Possibly the toxic Jack O’Lantern mushroom which appears on dead wood in autumn

The Eastern Trail to the Marsh and Prairie:  Early November

Heading east from the lake section of the park, past the big marsh on the left, you reach a driveway near the crest of hill where a gray building and a small parking lot indicate you’ve reached the  the eastern section of Draper Twin Lake Park. As you head off down the trail on the left, in the distance you can see the big central marsh through the trees.

Central Marsh Draper
West side of Draper’s circular path with the central marsh in distance

In early November, a few fall wildflowers were still in bloom along this part of the trail. As I set off, I thought I saw a bee probing a blossom of a fall aster (genus Symphotrichum) but on closer inspection, it was one of many Hoverflies (family Syrphidae) that mimic the bee’s appearance, perhaps to ward off predators. Bees were noticeably absent.   Presumably non-native European Honeybees (Apis mellifera) had already retreated to their hives inside nearby trees and native Bumblebee queens (genus Bombus) were settling into their individual underground burrows.

Hover Fly on Daisy Fleabane Draper
A Hoverfly on a hardy stalk of a fall aster one early November day

Crawling into that blossom above is another insect that was new to me.  I got a clearer shot of the Spotted Cucumber Beetle (Diabrotica undecimpunctata) as I watched  the  Eastern Yellow Jacket (Vespula maculifrons) below foraging for nectar on a Showy Goldenrod (Solidago speciosa). The beetle’s lime green thorax, spotted abdomen and striped antennae make it look like a cartoon insect, but it’s a major pest for farmers. These bright green beetles attack a variety of crops, including cucumbers and soybeans, and their caterpillars (or larvae) drill down to eat the roots of young plants. Here at Draper, though, this one seemed to just be searching for food quite peaceably with its neighbors, the wasp and hoverfly.

Spotted Cucumber Beetle Yellow Jacket wasp DL
A Spotted Cucumber Beetle and a Yellow Jacket wasp share the last of the Showy Goldenrod

As you round that first curve in the trail, there’s a “floating mat” marsh to your right. In the center of this marsh is a tightly woven tangle of plants and roots with water running beneath it – and shrubs as well as individual plants thrive on this mat.

Draper Marsh from southeast
A view of Draper marsh which has a “floating mat” at its center

Before the first frost, Ben’s birding group was still seeing a few migrating sparrows on this path.  The White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis), which probably raised its young in Canada, was traveling to southern Ohio and beyond for the winter.  (Note the yellow “lores” at the corner of the eyes.)

white-throated-sparrow-1-of-1
A White-throated Sparrow on its way south from its breeding grounds in Canada

Ben’s group spotted a Swamp Sparrow (Melospiza georgiana) as well. It has longer legs than other sparrows so it can wade into water. It will actually put its whole head under the surface to fish out small invertebrates. It was on its way south, too.

Swamp sparrow
The Swamp Sparrow has longer legs than other sparrows so it can wade into the water to fish for small invertebrates.

After turning the corner at the north end of this path, you’ll see the prairie that’s being restored from an old farm field. When I went in early November, the trees along the edge were in full color.  (See the photo at the top of the blog.) In the prairie itself, some native plants were still blooming this fall. I was surprised to see Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta) still turning their bright faces to the autumn sun.  Ben identified for me another native plant as White Vervain (Verbena articifolia) which produces tightly packed tiny white flowers in the summer.  The Blue Vervain (Verbena hastata) that  Ben planted on the prairie last fall will hopefully make an appearance next year.

A female Clouded Sulphur butterfly (Colias philodice) danced among the dry stems on the field, finally landing on a seeding Bull Thistle (Cirsium vulgare), trying to find a last sip of nectar before the first frost.

Clouded Sulphur female Draper Lake
This hardy little female Clouded Sulphur sought out a bit of late season nectar from a Bull Thistle

Nearby, a drab little Skipper (family Hesperiidae) that I was unable to identify had found the same plant for a last minute snack.

Moth on thistle Draper Lake
A Skipper butterfly seeks nectar from a Field Thistle

As I rounded the curve and headed back to the parking area, I heard a commotion in an adjoining field.  And suddenly a small tree was filled with dozens of European Starlings (Sturnus vulgaris) gathering for their migration. Such a gabble of sound and a fluttering of restless wings!

Starlings closeup Draper
Starlings fluttering about in a small tree

Eastern Trail:  Late November

By late November, most of the color had drained from the trees.  Around the marsh edges, the Poplars (genus Populus) created a crisp contrast to the russet leaves nearby.

Bare Birch Draper
Bare poplars create a sharp contrast with the russet leaves of autumn.

Poplars are plentiful in many of our township parks, while White Pines (Pinus strobus) are less frequent. These soft-needle, native pines were lumbered off from the late 18th through the early 20th century. The few very large white pines that remain in our township probably reflect where they were found historically, while the smaller white pines most likely spread from planted trees often used in landscaping. According to Wikipedia, White Pines produce new needles each spring which they shed about 18 months later in the fall, creating thick carpets on the ground beneath.

White Pine Needles autumn Draper Lake
White Pines produce new needles each spring and shed them 18 months later in the fall.

Just off the curve in the trail near the prairie, there’s a remarkable White Pine with seven trunks, five of which are full size!  I’ve never seen such a tall pine with multiple trunks. On the left is the base of the tree and on the right is my 5′ 11″ husband looking very small next to the height of this impressive tree – or should I say “trees?”

Birds migrating farther south no longer skittered from limb to limb.  Instead, our  tried-and-true, hardy, year ’round birds – Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata), Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) and Mourning Doves (Zenaida macroura) –  huddled in shrubs to avoid cold winds or basked on bare branches on sunnier days.

And there were the familiar migratory birds of the far north – the American Tree Sparrow (Spizelloides arborea) and the Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) – who think Michigan is great place to spend the winter.

Bare Trees, Early Sunsets, and Acres of Quiet

Sunset Draper
Sunset at Draper Twin Lake’s eastern section

Autumn turns us inward, I think. The bustle and color of summer has quieted to more somber grays and browns. Windsong is changed by flowing through dry leaves and bare limbs. A woodpecker drills in the distance; a crow or a jay stridently announces your presence. Now that leaves are underfoot, the trees sleep down in their roots. Turtles and frogs drowse in torpor beneath the water surface. In autumn’s quiet depths, the natural world offers us a place to listen, watch, and maybe just…be. A welcome respite from the hurly-burly of our lives.

Footnote:  My sources for information,besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Ritland, D. B., & Brower, L. P. (1991); 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 insect info; http://www.migrationresearch.org/mbo/id/rbgr.html for migration info; invaluable wildflower identification from local expert, Maryann Whitman and the website www.illinoiswildflowers.info; experienced birder Ruth Glass, bird walk leader at Stoney Creek Metro Park for bird identification; Birds of North America Online; Audubon.org; Nature in Winter by Donald Stokes, Trees in My Forest by Bernd Heinrich, Winter World by Bernd Heinrich, Savannah River Ecology Lab (Univ of Georgia); Tortoise Trust website www.tortoisetrust.org;  An Orchard Invisible: A Natural History of Seeds by Jonathan Silvertown; The Ecology of Plants by Gurevitch, Scheiner and Fox; other sites as cited in the text.