Breakfast with Bluebirds

Sunday felt like spring.  We hit nearly 60 degrees!  It was so mild in the morning that Toby and I went out on the back deck to eat our breakfast.  

Wasn't too keen to see the house sparrow who was working on setting up his territory in our nest boxes (he's sitting o the far nest box, center of photo),

but he wasn't the only one checking things out!

This pair of bluebirds came and went, more intent on gleaning insects from the ground than setting up house, but that only meant they were perfect breakfast companions.

Nom, nom, nom...he chokes down a grub.

Toby enjoyed his snack, too.

After our gustatory delights, I decided that the day was going to be too nice to waste, and since the bluebirds were in the neighborhood, it would only be right to make sure the nest boxes were all fixed up and ready for them, just in case.  This meant evicting all the house sparrow nests.

I was thrilled to see that four of the white pines I planted last fall were still hanging in there.  Between the drought, the deer and the rabbits, I had my doubts.  I don't think any of the oaks made it.

 

Hark!  What could that be, sneaking around the tree out front?

By golly, it's a moose!  A moose in the lower peninsula!  Will wonders never cease?

Almost-spring Tally:
   3/9 - killdeer flying and calling over the fields
   3/10 - turkey vultures spotted soaring over the fields en route to work
   3/10 - I swear I heard the wing twittering of a woodcock during our evening walk
   3/11 - red-winged blackbirds descended on the birdfeeders

A Disappointment

 After reveling in the appearance of round-lobed hepatica flowers yesterday at work,

you can imagine my disappointment to wake up this morning to this:

Still, it is only mid-April, and despite the fact that we keep thinking that spring is here, as in sunshine and flowers and baby birds, in truth spring IS here, as in unpredictable weather that lands between winter and summer on any given day.  The flowers are starting to bloom, but must be prepared for snow, frost and ice.  Birds are on their eggs and must be prepared to hunker down to keep them extra warm against the chill.  The sun may shine, or it may be hidden in a bank of clouds, obscured by a seasonal blizzard.

Flowers adapt by having flexible stems, woolly coverings, and stalwart dispositions (can flowers have dispositions?).  Birds adapt by fluffing up their feathers, trapping heat close by the body.  And the sun, well, the sun is always "out" - we just can't always see it.

So, it is spring in the truest sense of the season.  We've been spoiled these last few years with spring warming up earlier than "normal," the season jumping almost directly from winter to summer.  This is, no doubt, a more traditional spring.  Mother Earth keeping us humble.

Conk-er-EEEEEEE

And if that weren't enough, last night the wood frogs were quacking away in the wet places along the Falling Waters Trail.

(And I saw a forsythia in full bloom in the city yesterday morning.)

It's So Close You Can Smell It

"It," of course, is Spring.

I know, I know...I keep saying that, and then it snows.  But today we snuck up really close to 70*F!  At 8 PM it was still 66*F.  Sure seems like spring to me, so let's take a look at the evidence.

One:  chipmunks on the move at the bird feeders.

Two:  ponds thawing.

Three:  things that were buried under the snow are now visible. Such as,  deceased deer...

...vole tunnels...

...and that wefty white mold?  fungus? that lurks beneath the snowbanks.

To take advantage of the balmy evening, Toby and I headed over to the Falling Waters Trail.  We weren't alone.  Older couples and good friends were out walking the trail for exercise.  A cyclist or two whizzed by.  We were even passed by a rollerblader.

The sides of the trails just beckoned, especially the ponds.  One of the naturalists at work told me today that she heard her first chorus frog of the year today, so I had to stake out the ponds for frogs (number four).

Ah-ha!  It was time to make a recording.  Now, I'm not going to win any oscars for my filming talent, so just close your eyes and listen.  Almost all the sounds of spring are there:  red-winged blackbirds, starlings, robins, and chorus frogs.  The frogs sound like the sound you get when you run your thumb nail down the teeth of a stiff plastic comb.  I haven't heard a chorus frog since I worked in New Jersey!  And later on, when it was nearly dark, I even heard a few spring peepers in the woods.

Wetlands abound in southern Michigan.  I can only try to imagine what spring was like three hundred or more years ago in this part of the state.  The cacophony of birdsongs must've been something to behold.  Even today, when mere remnants remain, the waterfowl and other birds still seek them out.  Ducks, geese, cranes...red-wings, woodcocks (I heard them tonight, too), killdeer...the air was full of songs (number five).

Much of the soil here seems quite sandy, which is perfect for turtles looking to lay their eggs.  Sadly, most turtle nests are predated by raccoons and foxes.  If they are lucky, each turtle has one egg make it to adulthood during a lifetime of egg laying.

The find of the evening, however, was a dark form that fluttered overhead as we reached the end of the trail, heading home.  At first I thought it was a woodcock sweeping in to land.  But then I saw it...a bat (number six)!  A good-sized bat with broad wings.  Best guess is a big brown bat.  And then, even better, two more bats flew over.  A few minutes later, I saw two more! 

Bats are doing much better here in Michigan than they are back east.  So far, it seems that White-nose Syndrome isn't here.  I'm sure it is only a matter of time, so I'm going to enjoy seeing bats again for as long as it lasts.

They're Heerrre

Overslept again, so Toby and I were on a quick walk this morning. We were cruising by the rescue squad when I heard it. Could it be? Again. Cheerily Cheerily. It must be. A robin.

And sure enough, as we were coming back down the home stretch, a bird with an unmistakeable chunky brown body and yellow bill flew up into a tree. Then another flew across the street. The next thing I knew, I was seeing robins everywhere.

And it's the first day of spring. How appropriate.

Wearin' o' th' Green

Saint Paddy's Day found me outside scouting the trails for animal tracks. We had a school group coming the next day, and I knew recent conditions were less than ideal for making, not to mention finding, tracks. Almost two weeks of mild weather, lots of sunshine and a wee bit of rain, plus some pretty strong winds, were bound to make things interesting.

Here's what the trail looked like:

Between the debris and hard, icy snow, it was going to be interesting!

Of course, I found myself distracted my all sorts of naturey things. Who could resist this fungus? Look at all the tiny wee holes on the underside - fitting that it is a polypore, eh? I believe this is Fomes fomentarius, the tinder polypore.

Despite questionable conditions, I was able to find a few tracks. As one might suspect, mouse and squirrel tracks were non-existent, but heavier animals, like deer, left pretty good tracks behind.

Along the sunny shore of a wetland, I found wild iris starting to emerge.

And the sphagnum moss was looking quite thick and juicy. I'm wondering if this is the "cat sphagnum" I learned about from Evelyn last fall.

This small shrubby plant was also along the side of the wetland. It's stem was fuzzy - almost downy. The buds look familiar, but I must be having a senior moment because I can't place it.

Here's some of the bright green that the Earth was wearing just in time for this Irish holiday. The leaves are even shamrocky in shape. Of course, this is goldthread, not shamrocks, but even so, it was nice to see on St. Patrick's Day.

This jumping spider was one of several I saw traversing a mossy rock in the sunshine next to the beaver pond. Here it is modeling for us a very nice little pixy cup lichen - I suspect it is a mealy pixie cup (Cladonia chlorophaea).

And right nearby was the tiniest British Soldiers lichen I've ever seen (Cladonia cristatella). Although it could be Gritty British Soldiers (C. floerkeana) - I didn't look closely enough to note the difference and I can't tell from this photo. Reading the habitat requirements of each may give a clue: the former is "equally at home on wood, soil, or even bark (tree bases)", while the latter is found "on earth, rotten logs, or soil-covered rocks, usually in the open." Hm...this was on a rock, in an open spot along the beaver pond. The rock had a healthy population of mosses and lichens, so some soil build-up was present. Both species can grown on soil. Guess habitat wasn't too helpful. Better observations and some chemical testing are in order.

As I sat there enjoying the sunshine and watching the wildlife crawl around the rock, this tree-, plant-, or leaf-hopper dropped in for a visit. I'm waiting to hear back from BugGuide.net for confirmation on what it is. Update: It turns out that this is a diamondbacked spittlebug (which are related to leafhoppers) - Lepyronia quadrangularis. It seems that these insects, which are commonly found in meadows and open spaces, where the young feed on grasses and other plants, safe within their foamy spittle homes, will overwinter as adults. When they do, they move to lower, swampy areas where the microclimate is less harsh and varied. This explians why I found this individual in the woods next to a beaver pond!

Ditto on this little guy. Lots of these were flying about (and landing on me - that's my hand it's crawling across, not Mars). Update: when I sent in my ID request to BugGuide, I mentioned that the back end of this insect had two "tails" like those on a stonefly. The response I got was "That's because it is a stonefly." Well - there you are, then. I looked it up in my Kaufman's Field Guide to Insects of North America and there, on the bottom of page 61 is a tiny little stonefly of the genus Allocapnia. These are "small winter stoneflies" (as opposed to "winter stoneflies") that can be out and about in temps a chilly at 20*F. Since it was well into the 50s, it's no surprise they were out and about. According to my Guide to Common Freshwater Invertebrates of North America, the adults emerge between December and April. As larvae, these insects are shredders, or detritivores, chowing down on decaying leaves that land in the water, consuming up to 30% of their weight in leaves each day.

So, here we are at the beaver pond. Water was rushing through one small opening, but mostly the dam was holding up.

The shallow parts of the pond were still covered with ice. I just loved the soft green of the ice in this section.

On the far side, the beaver lodge was quite visible. Last fall it was a little more difficult to see, but the barren landscape of spring, combined with the bright sunshine and a winter's worth of sticks thrown on the roof, made the bank lodge stick out like a sore thumb. I eventually made my way around to that side of the pond, but couldn't get close enough to see more than a few of the sticks. The beavers picked a good, safe location.

Here's what the slope above the lodge looks like. If these beavers were people, the APA would hit them with a major fine for clearcutting the woods!

Not only was the slope covered with sharp, pointy "stumps," but it was striped with several trails, where the beavers went up the hill to harvest some trees and then dragged them back to the pond. Some of these trails were quite deep and eroded.

Often when beavers cut down trees (saplings) for food, the stump left behind resprouts, sending up numerous new shoots. This one, however, is not likely to do so, for the beavers actually dug out the roots and cut them off as well!

Nearby, an old yellow birch had finally given up the ghost, and the beavers were having at it. The little black spot on the end is a fly. Two of these flies were sponging up the moisture oozing from the end. Sap?

Another old yellow birch, this one perched precariously at the top edge of a steep slope overlooking the pond, also showed signs of sampling by the beavers. I'm going to keep an eye on this one because I'm curious to see if the beavers plan on taking it down, or if this sample is the extent of the damage they'll do.

Although the "pond" part of the pond (to the left in this photo) is still frozen, the "stream" part is open and flowing right along.

Another portrait of my left hand. Have you ever noticed how many left hand photographs naturalists take? Seriously, though, this is a beaver track next to my hand. I had nothing else for scale, and I was simply impressed by the size of the thing. While to the untrained eye this looks like a track left by one of those giant prehistoric beavers, it is in fact merely the melted-out track of an average modern day beaver. Melting snow makes even the smallest tracks look huge.

My scouting trip turned up an additional raccoon track, some otter trails, and a grouse scat, so when the students arrived the next day, we had plenty of animal signs to look for.

Just as new green shoots are a sure sign of spring, so is the lack of trackable snow. It's these conditions that sharpen the observer's eye. We know the animals are still out there, but the signs of their passing are more subtle and we must be more alert if we want to find them.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Just a quickie this morning, but I had to report what I heard last night.

It was about 7:15, and I was heading home along the ol' dog walking route. We (the pooch and I) had come to a halt so he could tinkle, when lo! overhead I heard the unmistakable harsh "honk" of a Canada goose! And where there's one, there's bound to be more, but it was 7:15 PM after all, which means the only things I was seeing when looking up were the stars and street lights.

Looking back across my phenology chart, I see that I usually don't encounter my first geese until the end of March. In 2004 I had geese on 3/11, too, though. Still, it seems a bit early.

This morning, Newcomb was full of red-wing blackbirds, cow birds (I just love their bubbly song), starlings, grackles...collectively referred to simply as blackbirds. They are skittish, though, so the best I can offer photographically is their hasty depatures.




And, last but not least, I heard a flicker this morning, too.

Looking for More Signs of Spring?

Just in case you need a further dose of spring, hop on over to my gardening blog for some views of spring in Vermont - from my time at Merck Forest and Farmland Center. Just click here and enjoy!

Spring?

I've been away the last few days. "Away" meaning I took time off from work. It was beautiful weather - I should've been out doing naturalist stuff. Instead, I did household stuff - cleaning, grocery shopping (a day-long event here in Newcomb because it requires a trip to Glens Falls), and reading. And even though the days were bright and sunny, with scads of blue sky and sunshine, the wind was bitter cold!!! Still, things have been melting. The roadsides are all covered with snert (or is it snirt?) - snow and dirt, or dirty snow. The snow away from the roadsides is alternately rotting and freezing. South-facing hillsides are bare. In other words, it looks like April out there, not early March.

This morning when I went out to fill the feeders (birds have been Spartan lately - even the blue jays are not wiping out the peanuts on a daily basis), I was shocked to see the following signs of spring:

1) Tulips, up almost two inches!



2) Daffodils up about an inch, pushing steadily through the leaves!



3) Azalea buds starting to swell and turn green!

4) The rhododendron leaves turning green!

At 8:30 AM, even Toby was lying down and soaking up some rays.

Even my 50 gallon "rain barrel", which collects the water dripping from my leaky gutters, was full of water. WATER. Not ice! After a clear night! The skim of ice on top was so thin it only took a gentle tap to shatter it. It's been full of mostly ice for weeks.


It's just too early for these signs of spring. Either we are going to have spring really really early this year, or we will get dumped on and all these plants will be sorry they put in an appearance so soon in the season.

When I got to work, I noticed that another warm weather creature had been out and about:

This is the remains of the bag of solidified bacon grease I had at the feeders. Remember the raccoon from my last post? I'd give good odds that it (or one of its friends) finally discovered this high-energy snack a couple nights ago and made short work of it.

Our snow stick is down to about 12 inches. More sunny weather is predicted for this week. It sure seems like spring.