Northern Michigan

A massive fen buffers a wild portion of the Lake Huron shoreline in Michigan's Presque Isle County. Once again, I am up in the northeast corner of the Lower Peninsula, in one of the state's most diverse counties and enjoying myself immensely. This is my fourth year up here, leading trips in collaboration with NettieBay Lodge.

Like everywhere else, spring is late to arrive, but that means that we've caught the peak of some early bloomers, such as this stunning Bird's-eye Primrose, Primula mistassinica. This diminutive wildflower grows in cold calcareous gravels of the Lake Huron shoreline, in association with other interesting flora.

The birds have been beyond fabulous, and I've seen nearly 140 species since my arrival last Wednesday. There'll be plenty more to come, too. Today, our group caught a fabulous group of migrant warblers; at one point six species shared the crown of a Red Pine, creating a scene right out of a plate from a field guide.

Above, one of Lake Nettie's resident loons rotates its eggs. She, as you can see, is not immune to the various midges and other insects that are part of the North Woods package. These loons are worth the price of admission alone. They know us - or at least Mark and Jackie, the lodge's owners - and we can boat out to their nesting island without causing any disturbance. Their tameness towards us permits fabulous photo ops, and I'll hope to share more loon pics later.

More pics and stories to follow, as time allows.

New River Birding & Nature Festival

Although it's now a few weeks past, I want to make one more pictorial post about the New River Birding & Nature Festival. I've been traveling down to lead trips and otherwise help out with this event for seven or eight years now, and it is an annual highlight. The festival is centered on the mighty New River, near the town of Fayetteville, West Virginia. This area is one of the most scenic places in North America. It is also a treasure trove of biodiversity, including "special" birds such as Cerulean Warbler, Golden-winged Warbler, Swainson's Warbler, and a bit to the south and high in the mountains, breeding Red Crossbills.

 

The boys - and girl - haven't yet posted the dates of next year's festival, but it'll be at the tail end of April, into early May. Check their website HERE. You'll get a flavor for the event, along with some photos. We'd love to see you there in 2014!

 

The mill at Babcock State Park is picturesque indeed. Not only that, but there's good birding, butterflying, and overall naturalizing in this very spot. Black-throated Blue Warblers breed in the dense tangles of Great Rhododendron on the adjacent slopes, and Swainson's Warblers nest downstream. One of your narrator's very favorite spiders, the outrageous Lampshade Weaver, builds its webs on sandstone outcrops along the stream.

Moths abound, and participants are dazzled by what comes into the nightlights at what may now be West Virginia's most photographed and studied outhouse. Luckily for us, this outhouse is at our morning rendezvous spot for field trips. I think there was a Luna there almost every morning this year.

We were excited to find this jumbo Promethea Moth on the walls of the outhouse one morning. It is a gravid female, and with luck she'll dump all of those eggs and a few will make it through the perilous caterpillar stage and complete the life cycle.

This is the Promethea's cocoon, a curious pendant bag that is reminiscent of a Baltimore Oriole nest. We found this one at Cranberry Glades, and admired it while being serenaded by Winter Wren, Canada and Magnolia warblers, Blue-headed Vireo, and more.

I was co-leading this trip to Cotton Hill on a fine sunny morning. We stopped here because there were all manner of birds in this spot. Northern Parula and Yellow-throated Warbler sang from towering Sycamore trees. Baltimore Orioles issued their flutelike whistles, and another whistler, the Eastern Meadowlark was teed up close at hand. But this action was just a warmup act for the mountain ahead, which abounds with Cerulean Warblers.

One of the festival's founders and a Chief Cook and Bottlewasher is this stylishly risque fashionplate, Geoffrey Heeter. Geoff allowed us to relish the birds of the locale in the previous photo a bit longer than we had planned. To his credit, he conjured this locksmith in no time flat to extract the keys from the innards of Geoff's vehicle. The dog certainly appreciated the business.

Of course, the plants are not to be snubbed, at least on my trips, and we see some doozies. This is one of them, the Little Brown Jugs, Hexastylis virginica. That's its strange flower, in full bloom, flat on the ground in the center of the leaves.

The progression of spring varies a bit from year to year. Last year, it came early and this year spring was tardy. This trio of Pink Lady's-slippers, Cypripedium acaule, was in bud and just about ready to burst. We see several other species of cool orchids, but probably none of them tops this one for sheer wow factor. If you come next year, the pinks will likely be in bloom, and the rocky ledges where I took this photo harbor dozens of plants.

Check out the New River Birding & Nature Festival, and see if you can make it in 2014.

A pictorial trip along the "Bird Trail"

A snippet of the parking lot at Magee Marsh Wildlife Area, on the shores of western Lake Erie. This site is world famous among birders, and with good cause. It is a premier stopover area for scores of neotropical songbirds in migration. In the peak month of spring migration, something like 100,000 people will visit. I was there yesterday, and managed a few photos, which follow...

You can find nearly every state's license plate in the parking lots at some time or another. Including some good ones. "Twitcher" is a British term for one who chases birds.

The Ohio Division of Wildlife owns and manages Magee Marsh, and the mile long boardwalk and the 37-acre swamp woods through which it passes. This boardwalk has long been known as the "Bird Trail", even before there was a boardwalk.

The Division of Wildlife also owns the 2,200 surrounding acres, which holds one of the finest marshes on Lake Erie. The parking lots and beach were once a state park, called Crane Creek. The Division of Parks and Recreation transferred that property to the Division of Wildlife several years ago, hence "Crane Creek State Park" is no more, although people still erroneously refer to the area by that name.

If you're a birder, and you visit Magee Marsh, thank the Division of Wildlife, perhaps by purchasing an Ohio Wildlife Legacy Stamp. It's expensive to host the throngs of birders that visit. All of those port-a-johns, for instance, cost about $15,000 to rent for peak spring migration. As this year's visitors saw, the Division makes special efforts to accommodate birders, many of whom may not know that Magee was purchased entirely through revenue generated by hunting license revenue, and Pittman-Robertson funds.

One doesn't have to go far to see cool birds. Someone stuck oranges along the parking lot, and brilliantly colored Baltimore Orioles found them appealing.

An adult male American Redstart sports the colors of Halloween. These little warblers seldom pause; they are frantic bundles of energy, raging through the foliage and spooking bugs from the leaves.

Magnolia Warblers sport just about every field mark that you'd want to see on a songbird: eyestripe, wingbars, tail spots, breast streaks, and gaudy coloration.

A personal favorite is the elegant White-crowned Sparrow. They were conspicuous, and the males were constantly singing their mournful buzzy wheezes.

Some sharp-eyed birder spotted this American Woodcock rooting for invertebrates. It is forehead deep in the muck, its long bill several inches into the soil.

As I made my images, through all manner of obstacles, the woodcock fanned its wings. It is a male. The outermost primary feathers - at the bottom of the wing in this photo - are much narrower than the others. They're narrow in the female, too, but not this narrow. When the male does its fabulous aerial courtship display flights, the wind rushing through these skinny bladelike outer primaries creates the twittering sound that we hear.

Throat aflame, a brilliant Blackburnian Warbler skips to another branch. This animal has come a LONG way to be with us. They winter in highlands of the Andes Mountains in South America, and it is bound for the boreal forest of Canada.

An avian zebra, the male Black-and-white Warbler is resplendent in its coat of inky stripes. This warbler was once known as the "Pied Creeper", and its elongated hind claw allows the warbler to scamper along bark as adeptly as a nuthatch.

A surefire crowd-pleaser is the Prothonotary Warbler, which appears to be crafted from molten gold. This is the only cavity-nesting wood-warbler in the east, and a pair or two usually nest along the Bird Trail.

It's easy to see why the Northern Parula was once called the "Olive-backed Warbler". Parulas are truly dinky; our smallest eastern warbler, weighing the same as three pennies.

Wearing a cap of chestnut, the Palm Warbler spends much time on the ground, and often out in the open - an unusual behavior for a warbler. While the "palm" descriptor conjures images of tropical beaches, this species breeds as far north as trees grow, all the way to the shores of Hudson Bay. Wisely, they do winter in the Caribbean and coastal Mexico and Central America, where palm trees are common.

A Nashville Warbler contorts itself to reach insects within the flowers of a Peach-leaved Willow, Salix amygdaloides. Alexander Wilson shot the first specimen in Tennessee, in migration, but the bird doesn't breed anywhere near the Volunteer State.

The most common breeding warbler at Magee Marsh is the Yellow Warbler, and a beautiful bird it is. This male was also feeding among the willow flowers, but simply could not help bursting into song from time to time. After delivering his loud Sweet-Sweet-I'm-So-Sweet!, he'd dive back into the flowers for more goodies.

Some botanical eye candy

I've been a lot of places the last three days, and have seen and photographed many cool things. Capped the weekend with a day at the fabulous Magee Marsh Wildlife Area on Lake Erie, where I and the scads of other people saw scores of birds. More to follow on that, hopefully.

 

On the way back from Lake Erie, I made a little circuit of prairies, all very different from one another. A few photos follow...

 

The 19-acre Lakeside Daisy State Nature Preserve is a must-see site for anyone who enjoys nature. Right now is the time to stop, when the preserve's namesake is in peak  bloom.

Lakeside Daisy, Tetraneuris herbacea, is listed as federally threatened and is one of the rarest plants in the United States. One wouldn't think it so rare if they visited the nature preserve now, when the limestone barrens are colored golden with thousands of flowers. Excepting a small Michigan site, Ohio's Marblehead Peninsula hosts the only U.S. population.

As the sign says, one of the best remaining prairies in Ohio - and there are precious few - is the Castalia Prairie, which is protected by the Ohio Division of Wildlife as the Resthaven Wildlife Area.

I found it necessary to stop today, to see this tiny orchid. The White Lady's-slipper, Cypripedium candidum, grows only in two locales in the state, and by far the largest occurs in the Castalia Prairie. This gem stands only eight inches tall. The orchid is fire-dependent. Following the next controlled burn, perhaps next year, the orchids will burst forth in staggering numbers.

Finally, I couldn't drive by the Claridon Prairie, which is not far east of Marion, without a stop. It's a bit early for much to be happening in this shard of tallgrass prairie, but I knew there would be one notable plant that'd be looking good.

An eastbound freight train rolls down the tracks, leaving a trail of sky-blue Wild Hyacinth, Camassia scilloides, in its wake. The railroad, which was laid out long ago, is responsible for the preservation of this prairie. It's verges, at least for this mile long sliver, are virgin prairie soil with its complement of special prairie plants.

Wild Hyacinth commonly grows along streams on rich wooded terraces, but it can also flourish under big skies in moist prairies. It looks right at home in the Claridon Prairie.

A toad's worst nightmare

An American Toad belts out his drawn-out sonorous aria. Everyone love toads, and for their part, toads are indifferent to all. They haven't much to fear. Their warts, which add to their considerable charm, are full of caustic secretions, as are the large paratoid glands behind their eyes. Try and eat one and you'll regret it, as more than a few dogs have learned the hard way. Thanks to their chemical defense system, toads have few enemies.

With one notable exception...

This fearsome sight is the last thing that a toad wants to see. If it does, this snake will probably be the last thing it sees.

I found myself in Adams County, Ohio yesterday, along with some friends. More posts on that mission will probably follow at some point, as we were up to some fairly interesting things. Anyway, we stopped in to the Eulett Center to meet up with some people, and our arrival coincided with that of Eric Davenport, who serves as Chief Naturalist for the Edge of Appalachia Preserve. Eric had a bag dangling in his hand, and within was this gorgeous Eastern Hog-nosed Snake, Heterodon platirhinos.

Needless to say, out came the cameras. Hognoses come in various color forms, ranging from nearly black to this stunning black and yellow form. This is not a particularly common or widespread reptile in Ohio, and most are found in the Oak Openings of northwestern Ohio, and in southernmost Ohio, where Eric found this specimen. Hog-nosed Snakes favor sandy substrates, where these accomplished diggers can ferret out a favored prey, the aforementioned toads.

The uninitated, especially ohidiophobes, would likely have their socks scared off by one of these snakes. It's not so much their size - hognoses only reach about three feet in length - but their excellent acting ability that'll startle a person. When first approached, the snake will flatten its neck to paper-thin dimensions, rear up, hiss, and look all the world like a ferocious cobra. If you continue your approach, it will lunge wild strikes in your general direction, but have no fear - it's all bluff. Even if the snake does make contact, it'll just harmlessly head butt you, not bite.

By now, most people will be headed the other way, but if you persist the snake begins Act II. It'll roll over on its back, dangle its head loosely, and loll its tongue from its mouth. This is an excellent imitation of playing dead. If you attempt to right the reptile, it'll often just promptly roll back over and continue feigning dead. As good as this performance is, it all too often works against the snake when humans are involved. Ignoramuses sometimes kill them, thinking the hognose to be dangerous.

As Eric noted, Eastern Hog-nosed Snakes seem to have exceptionally long tongues, which they use to sense their environment. Note the snake's flattened shovel-like snout.

Hognoses are accomplished diggers, using their snout like a spade. When the keen sensors within their tongue detect toady prey, the snake sweeps its snout from side to side through the sand to uncover the victim.

The Eastern Hog-nosed Snake is yet another facet of Ohio's declining natural heritage. At one time, this species occurred in at least 30 of Ohio's 88 counties. Today, it still persists in perhaps nine of those counties. These charismatic and fascinating animals should be protected at all costs.

Bexley's famous night-herons

A pair of Yellow-crowned Night-Heron nests adorn massive Sycamore trees overarching Preston Road in Bexley, Ohio, on the east side of Columbus. This species has been nesting in this spot for about eighteen years, and insofar as I am aware, it is the only known breeding "colony" of Yellow-crowned Night-Herons in the state. They are undoubtedly nesting in a few other locales, but pinning down the nests is often not easy.

This is a ritzy neighborhood indeed. Nearly all of the neighbors are well aware of the herons, if only because of all the birders that flock to the neighborhood to pay homage to these special birds. Or, perhaps, they notice the ever-increasing layer of white guano that whitewashes the street below the nests. Ah, a small price to pay in order to host such interesting animals

I made my annual trip to the nests yesterday, and was pleased to see that a pair of birds was back in residence. Their clumsy stick structure is a bit rattier than the surrounding big $$$ homes, but it has done the job well for many years now. There was no sign of another pair, and the other nest remains unused. The active nest is the one in the backdrop in the previous photo.

Yellow-crowned Night-Herons are at the northern cusp of their breeding range in Ohio. A few birds have nested even farther north, such as in Michigan and Minnesota, but for the most part this is as far north as they make it. The species becomes quite common southward, and is easily found in the swamplands and coastal wetlands in the southern U.S, throughout the Caribbean, in much of Central America, and parts of South America.

Oh my, what big eyes you have! The bulging reddish eyes of Yellow-crowned Night-Herons are a major, obvious feature, and serve the animal well on its nocturnal fishing forays. A beautiful little stream, Alum Creek, flows very near to this nesting site, and these birds undoubtedly spend much time in its waters under cover of darkness.

This shot shows the peculiar forward-facing arrangement of night-heron eyes. Actually, most herons have a similar setup. It's as if the bird has a pair of telescopes sighted down the blade of a bayonet. Like a pool shark carefully measuring his shot, a hunting heron draws a bead on prey, and with a brutal thrust of the neck that is quick is a wink, it spears its victim. In the case of Yellow-crowned Night-Herons, the favored prey are crustaceans, and in these parts that means crayfish. Life for the "crawdads" in nearby Alum Creek is perilous indeed.

There was much primping of plumes as the birds set about the task of rehabilitating their nest. The sexes look nearly identical, and I believe the male is the bird on the left, fanning its feathers like a peacock. When nest construction commences, he gathers sticks and offers them to the female, who then carefully places them into the structure. This behavior, apparently, serves to also reinforce their pair bond. That's what I observed yesterday - male passing along sticks, female embedding them in the nest.

 

The male partially fluffs himself into a regal state, and seems to demand that the female pay him some mind. She was busy, though, and had seemingly sent him out on a limb where he couldn't interfere with her important work.

 

It won't be long and eggs will be laid, and before we know it the gangly youngsters will be in the nest. I'll try and make another trip down here at a later stage and share how things are going for this pair.

Polar Bear talk!

Photo: Brocken Inaglory/Wiki Commons

A pair of Polar Bears, Ursus maritimus, engage in a bit of mock sparring at the Polar Bear Capital of the World, Churchill, Manitoba.

Polar Bears are perhaps the most iconic mammal of the Arctic, and warming temperatures are threatening their existence. The man who knows as much as anyone about the giant white bear, and who led the charge to have this species listed as an officially declared "threatened species" by the U.S. Department of Interior, is Dr. Steven Amstrup.

Amstrup is Chief Scientist of Polar Bears International, and he'll be in Columbus on Tuesday, May 14 to give a fascinating presentation about polar bears. This lecture is part of a monthly series of talks put on by the Environmental Professionals Network. The breakfast presentation takes place from 7:15 - 9:20 am at the Nationwide and Ohio Farm Bureau 4-H Center on the Ohio State University Campus.

For details and registration, GO HERE.