Wee Stinkpot

 It was after 9:00 last night when Toby and I headed out for our walk.  I was hoping the heat and humidity would be down, but it was only marginally so.  The sun was only starting to set, so there was plenty of light, but even so, I brought a flashlight along just in case.

We don't go very far these days, partly because of the weather, and partly because poor Toby is having some difficulty getting around.  His get-along has quite a few hitches in it, and he stumbles more often than I like.  So, we were only heading up about a quarter mile or so from the house.  Just as we were getting ready to turn around, he caught a scent and began pursuing it across the grass.  I noticed a small black lump in the grass, which I thought maybe was a bit of broken branch, or perhaps a chunk of asphalt.  It turned out to be a small turtle:

 As you can see, I brought it home.  Partly for ID purposes, partly because I felt so sorry for the thing.  Here's what it's shell looks like:

This poor fellow has seen some rough days!  Encounters with lawnmowers?  Combines?  Who knows - but he's certainly had luck healing, even from this hole:

This is one of the musk turtles (Sternotherus sp), which share a family (Kinosternidae) with mud turtles (Kinosteron sp.).  This particular musk turtle is the stinkpot (S. odoratum), also known as a common musk turtle, skillpot, and stinking Jim.  Hm...must be they are smelly.  My little specimen here isn't particularly odiferous, but according to the literature, they have "four musk-producing glands whose tiny pinpoint orifices may be seen on the underside of the marginal scutes of the carapace.  Freshly captured individuals often produce a drop of the yellowish musk from each of the glands." (Amphibians and Reptiles of New York State, by Gibbs, Breisch, Ducy, Johnson, Behler and Bothner.) Apparently the stink is not enough to drive away predators - my specimen might be evidence of that. 

Another book claims that these turtles are feisty little biters, capable of reaching their back legs with their powerful jaws.  Hm!  Awfully glad I didn't know that when I picked him up and carried him home.  He pretty much drew himself into his shell (there is a hinge on the front end of the lower shell, or plastron) and stayed there.  He pulled his front legs and head inside, and tucked up his back legs and tail - almost completely hidden.

The way to tell the males from females is based primarily on the size of the plastron.  A male stinkpot has a very small plastron, which allows him greater mobility - his legs can move around a whole lot more without that shell getting in the way.  Also, males have thicker tails that are tipped with a blunt nail.  Females have thinner tails, and may or may not have the nail.  My guy here hasn't given me a good look at his tail yet, so I can't confirm the nail. 

My Audubon field guide to reptiles and amphibians claims that if you are walking along in the woods and a "rock" falls on your head, it is probably a stinkpot, for these turtles are quite able climbers.  How 'bout that, eh?!  Maybe that's why this one is so beat up!

I like the two little barbels under his chin.  What purpose do those serve, I wonder.

This is a water turtle, not a land tortoise, which is why I was so surprised to find it in someone's yard last night.  I'm in an agricultural area, with lots of fields.  I'm also near some state wildlife lands, and there are shallow ponds around, but not all that close to where we stood there on the roadside.  The nearest body of water was probably at least a half mile away.  Seems an awfully long way for this guy to have come.

Normally, musk turtles are found in wetlands with shallow, muddy waters that have little to no current.  My book claims they don't wander far.  Once again, I wonder why he was where I found him.

One of the things I love about these little turtles is the nose.  It's a little piggy nose, and makes a pretty nice snorkel when one is walking along the bottom of a shallow pond or stream.

For now this little guy is taking a well-earned rest in a terrarium at work.  I was going to make it an aquarium, since he is aquatic, but there's a tag on the tank that says "do not fill with water."  So, I filled an artificial pond for him and gave him a couple worms.  Next week, when I get back to work, I will take him out on the property and turn him loose in our glacial pond - it is a good shallow wetland that is well off the beaten path and far enough from roads that he should have a good remainder to his life.

Turtle Update:  When I came in to work this morning, the turtle was out and about in the tank.  I was thrilled!  I didn't see the worms, so I'm hoping he ate those.  The Tuesday Morning group was going out for their weekly walk and I decided to join them, with the goal of releasing the turtle at the glacial pond.  He was very active when I took him out of the tank - stuck out his long neck and pushed at my fingers and hand with his feet.  He was rarin' to go!  I placed him in a container and off we went.  I didn't quite get down to the water's edge; it's quite marshy around the perimeter of the pond, and since the grasses were so tall I couldn't quite see where I was going, I went as far as I felt comfortable going (while simultaneously fending off hundreds of mosquitoes), and set him down with his face towards the water.  The rest is up to him.

Lime Lake

Shortly after I rolled in to work yesterday, Gary asked if I'd like to accompany him on a jaunt over to Lime Lake, a local park that is part of the Falling Waters Trail.  He'd taken the Tuesday Morning Group out there and had see so many terrific things, but had left his camera at work, so he wanted to go back and get photos of some of the nests they found.  How could I refuse?  So, of course, I said "Sure!"

Here we are at Lime Lake, which is actually two smallish lakes, sort of man-made.  On the far side here there is a fen, so there was definitely water in the area prior to man's involvement.  And why did man get involved?

Here you can see some of the remnants below the water's surface of the once rather prolific marl mining operation that was here.

Only a few feet from the shoreline the lake's bottom drops dramatically to a depth of 30 feet or so.  This was the mine pit.

Marl, which is a limestone, was dug up here for use on the agricultural fields all around.  The soils in this part of Michigan are no the best in the world, as I've noted before (especially on my gardening blog).  Some parts are acidic, others are alkaline.  The marl, which is a crumbly substance, was used to help balance the pH and make the soils a bit more fertile. The sign below tells all about it.

 

But, our primary reason for this trip was the nest below.  It's the nest of a warbling vireo, a small grey bird with an oriole-like song.  Sort of.  Gary described the song as "squeeze me, squeeze me, squeeze me 'til I squirt."  We did see the bird, and we definitely heard one or two, but no one was at the nest when we stopped by.  If it weren't for Gary's eagle eyes when it comes to all things bird, I don't think anyone would have seen this nest - it is very well hidden. (It is in the center of the photo.)

I was happy to see this familiar-looking plant:  sumac.  To the untrained eye, this looks like it could be staghorn sumac, the species I am familiar with from back home.  However, it has no fuzzy coverings on its stems, and the leaves are very smooth.  This is smooth sumac, another native, and one that is quite prolific in these parts.  I may, in fact, already have some on my property.  It is certainly a species to cultivate for a) it is native and b) it produces fruits that are important to our native birds.  I need to acquire some more.

Now, this fellow was a surprise.  It was zipping along the paved path in quite a hurry.  It's rather cylindrical shape and striking coloring made me want to photograph it, but I had to slow it down first.  Voila!  My foot made a great barrier.  I snapped a couple shots and off it dashed again.  Gary thought it looked rather cockroachish.  Hm.  The only cockroaches I've ever seen were the Madagascan hissing cockroaches we had at the zoo where I worked.  I've written about cockroaches, I have a great book about cockroaches, but I've never lived where cockroaches lived.  I sent this image off to BugGuide, and within minutes I had an answer:  it is definitely a cockroach, but it's been forwarded to the appropriate experts for species ID.  Will keep you posted.  On the one hand, it's rather exciting to add a new critter to my life list of things I've seen, but on the other hand, shudder, cockroaches!  I'm not sure how I feel living where these guys exist.

There are many (and I do mean MANY) bluebird nest boxes along the trail, quite a number of which are there because of Gary's involvement with the creation of this trail.  We didn't see any bluebirds, but the boxes were all in use.  This one was stuffed full of plant material - house sparrows.  Invasive species - Gary removed the nest.

Most of the residents, however, were tree swallows, and there were tree swallows by the dozen flying around.  In fact, there were so many that it seems they'll nest in any available box, including boxes in need of repair,

and kestrel boxes, which are built for rather larger birds.

The general rule of thumb when putting up bluebird boxes is to pair them.  This is because tree swallows are rather territorial and will evict bluebirds in order to have the nest box.  If the box is paired with another, the theory is that they swallows will keep other swallows from nesting next door, allowing the bluebirds to move in in peace.  Well, here are two bluebird boxes and a kestrel box, all in a row, and each one had a tree swallow family in residence.  Many of the swallows had fledglings that had either a) just been kicked out of the house and the parents were now rebuilding for a second brood, or b) were in the process of coaxing the kids out for their first flights.

This turtle nest didn't make it.  Raccoons, skunks, foxes...they are all known to dig up turtle nests to have a fresh egg meal.  These eggs seemed a bit on the smallish side, so the nest probably wasn't the usual snapping turtle nest.  It could be a painted turtle's nest.  When Gary and the group were out here on Tuesday, they saw a large softshelled turtle (think pancake with legs, tail and head) laying eggs.  This is why one should always bring a camera along.

There were plenty of insects flying around, including this little European skipper - yes, a non-native butterfly.  It was "accidentally" turned loose 101 years ago in Canada, and is now taking over North America.  Skippers in general have a rapid and rather erratic flight, and they usually fly close to the ground.  This makes sneaking up on them a bit of a challenge.

And speaking of sneaking up on insects, I had some fun trying to sneak up on this calico pennant dragonfly.  It seems that every time I about had it lined up for a shot, it took off (I swear it was thumbing its nose at me).  Eventually, however, it perched for a few seconds allowing me to get a few nice images.  This is the male of the species.  The female would look similar in pattern, but instead of red and black, she would be yellow and black.  This seems to be a rather common trend in dragonflies.

We found a small patch of Deptford pinks in bloom.  It's a pretty little plant, native to Europe, and although it is found rather extensively here in the US, it doesn't seem to be a problematic plant.  Although, Gary did point out that even though it isn't really "invasive," he wonders what native plant would be blooming here instead if this plant hadn't come over.  It's an interesting question.

While not all non-native species are problematic, too many wreak havoc within our native ecosystems.  All along the trail ash trees were marked for cutting.  Some were dead, some still had leaves, but all were impacted by the emerald ash borer.  Back in New York, this highly destructive insect is only starting to get a hold on the landscape, but here in Michigan it's work is already done.  There are no (or nearly no) mature ash trees left.  The adult beetle bores into the trees, lays eggs and leaves.  The larvae eat the tree, and when they emerge, they leave these rather large holes behind (see below).  The end result:  the tree dies.  It seems that, like the American beech, young trees (saplings) are unaffected, but as long as this insect remains here, we will not have any more mature ashes in this country.  

Some places are taking action by cutting down all their ashes before the beetle arrives:  if there is no food, the insects will die off (that's the theory).  They did the same thing with chestnuts back in the day.  It's a nice idea, but I don't know how effective it is in the long run.

I suppose some folks may think that we naturalists harp a bit too much on alien invaders/non-native species.  The truth of the matter, however, is that with this highly mobile global world today, insects, plants, fungi, etc. have easy access to new frontiers.  When they arrive on foreign shores, if they are able to find food or a host, then they go to town unchecked, for their natural predators/control agents stayed back home.  There's nothing to slow 'em down.  People who are not in touch with the outdoors may think this is a non-issue - there are plenty of other plants (etc.) around, so what difference does it make if one or two species disappear.  The things is, it's not just one or two species.

Remember the food web?  We all learned about it when we were kids.  Everything is attached to everything else in nature.  If you wipe out all of a particular native plant, for example, what happens to the insects that depended on that plant for a food source?  If those insects now die out, what happens to the birds who depended on those insects to get them through the first days of spring, for even seed-eating birds rely on insects for their young?  Like ripples on a pond, loss of native species have far-reaching impacts that we many not realize until it is too late.

This is why we naturalists go on and on about eradicating non-native vegetation and replanting areas with the native plants.  We don't want to lose all those things that make North America, Michigan, New York, Alabama, Oregon special. 

End of rant.

Roadside Discoveries

I had a couple great finds yesterday.  First, on the way home from work, I saw something moving in the road.  As I slowed down my approach, I saw it was a turtle, and not only that, it was a Blanding's turtle.

Blanding's turtles are one of Michigan's protected species, coming in at the Special Concern level, meaning there are still a fair number around, but the population is in decline and we need to be extra careful to prevent further decline toward extinction.

Blanding's turtles, named after Dr. Blanding, a friend of the man who "discovered" this animal, are easily recognized by their yellow chins.  They also often look like they are smiling.  The lightly spotted shell is more highly domed than the shells of most of our other turtles (the exception being the box turtle, which has a very high dome).

I of course stopped my car and gave this turtle a lift across the road - and a good thing, too, for a whole line of traffic was soon held up by my actions.  Had I not stopped and grabbed her, this turtle might've joined the ranks of all the turtles permanently napping in the middle of the road.  Please watch where you drive!

Later on, while Toby and I were on our nightly stroll, I found this Canada darner lying upside-down in the road.  It was still alive, but barely.  The bent abdomen indicated the location of damage; I suspect it had been hit by a car.  If turtles are difficult for people to avoid, imagine trying to avoid colliding with a fast-moving insect!

I brought the dragonfly home to photograph, for it isn't often one has a chance to snap shots of a dragonfly up close.

The enormous compound eyes are often the first things that grab our attention, but just in front of those two eyes, there are three smaller ones (called ocelli), about where you might consider the bridge of the nose to be located (if these insects actually had noses).  The large plate on the front of the face (where you'd locate a nose) is called the frons, and the next segement below that, with the two lobes pointing downwards, is the clypeus. The smallest bit at the bottom, which on this individual is the lightest blue, is the location of the actual mouthparts.

Here are some interesting factoids about dragonfly eyes.  The ocelli are used mostly for detecting light, kind of like the "third eye" some reptiles exhibit.  The compound eyes, however, are built for vision.  They can have upwards of 30,000 facets on each eye.  The eyes wrap around the whole head and each facet faces a different direction.  Each facet of the eyes reacts differently to stimuli, which means dragonflies are extremely sensitive to movement.   No wonder it is so difficult to sneak up on a dragonfly to photograph it!

But wait, there's more!  Dragonflies not only are able to detect movement in clear and sharp detail that would be just a blur to you or me, but can also see much more color than you or I.  While you and I can see the usual colors of the spectrum, dragonflies can see in the ultraviolet range, AND they can see the plan of polarization of light.  Scientists believe this helps them navigate and identify bodies of water (pg. 22 of Cynthia Berger's Wild Guide: Dragonflies).

It seems that all this phenomenal vision wasn't enough to help this particular dragonfly avoid a car.  Perhaps yesterday's strong winds also had something to do with it.  A sad ending for such a marvelous creature.

Winter to Summer in 24 Hours

 Wow!  Yesterday the started started off cold and grey and damp, and ended up about 50*F - quite pleasant.  Today we began overcast and chilly, but by noon it was 77*F, and by 4:00 it was 84*F and HUMID!

I had to go into the office today to do some work, and decided to also head out on the trails - primarily to get photos of the prairie three weeks post burn, after rain and warmth.

So, off I went, stopping first to visit my skunk cabbage friends.  Look!  New green leaves have sprung forth from the soggy ground!

And hidden within the modified leaf (the spathe) is the spadix, the actual flowering part of the plant, complete with little flowers.  There were even a few little flies buzzing around.

Reaching the "Dug Pond," which I refer to as the muskrat pond because there is a muskrat lodge out on it, I saw some interesting white "things" sitting on top of the floating vegetation.  What were they?  Some sort of seed pod?  Perhaps a bunch of white berries left over from last year?

Turns out they were snail shells!

Now, some of you may have noticed in last night's photos that the burn was looking significantly less charred.  If you did, then you get gold stars, each one of you!  Yes, indeed the burn is finally showing some green at a distance.  It's amazing what a little rain (okay, a lot of rain, actually) and some heat will do for plant growth.

I thought this was interesting, though.  The part that's really looking green is not the restored area, which is still looking quite brown by comparison.  My educated guess is that this demonstrates just why invasive plants are so successful - they out compete the natives, in this case growing more quickly after a disturbance.  Fear not, though, for when examined up close, the restored area does have quite a bit of new growth coming along, too - just not as significant an amount as the rest of the prairie.

The quaking aspen catkins were looking mighty robust today.  Another example of a flower that we ignore because it isn't showy (and on the ground).

I just love this tree.

I visited one of the coyote dens.  The bits of grass Mickey had placed across the entrance are gone.  Hm.  Activity?  Or merely strong winds?

Here's what I mean by strong winds (that's my hair blowing about):

There were tree swallows galore flying all over the grassland.  Plenty of insects on hand today, thanks to the extremely warm weather.  They were having a feast, and perhaps even enjoying flying on the strong winds.  I watched this pair for quite a while at the nest boxes.

 Might this box become a nest site?

Well...

...maybe we'll keep looking.

I headed next to the glacial pond, where the spring peepers, northern chorus frogs and wood frogs were all in full voice.

Saw a nice pile of painted turtles out on a hummock.  How many can you count?

While I was sitting on a log, enjoying the sounds of spring, I heard a rustle and looked down by my feet.  A large garter snake had crawled out of a tuft of grasses and was sliding beneath my legs...until I moved my hand to get the camera, at which point it did a 180 and zoomed back into the grasses.  I waited patiently and shortly it crawled back up and onto the log.  I noticed its belly was rather large - perhaps it found a good meal in that tuft of grasses at the marsh's edge.

I also saw several dragonflies - they were out and cruising the marsh.  It was as though we skipped spring entirely and went directly to summer today.

The heat was beginning to get to me, though, and I had finished up the bottle of water I brought.  It was time to head back home.

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.