Restoration Inspiration from a Big, White Bird

Up close and personal with Ohio's largest bird, the Trumpeter Swan

This is a story for those moments in time when the question is posed (internally or by others), "Why does any of this matter?" What is the point of habitat protection and improvement when species are going extinct at alarming rates?

The photo above is the big reveal from the mystery image posted on April 8th. We did ultimately get the proper identification, but not surprisingly, it took some time. If shown an image of a large, white bird (in its entirety) on the water, most could recognize it to be a swan. But the trumpeter is to be appreciated for its uniqueness -- not only in its size and raw beauty but in how it came to be swimming in our marsh.

Legendary outdoor writer (and friend) Steve Pollick tells the tale in a succinctly written article from 2005. But in a nutshell, this species was completely wiped from the map in Ohio and beyond (extirpated) by 1900 and driven to the brink of extinction. Except for the rogue migrant, this magnificent bird was not seen again in the Midwest until it was reintroduced in the 1990s. Ohio was one of the first states to try its luck at relocating eggs from far north, rearing the young (called cygnets), and then eventually releasing juvenile birds into the wild. Lake Erie's southwestern shoreline was a logical nursery for the majority of these pioneers, but as Steve explains, in under a decade, there where over 100 individuals and 17 nesting pairs thriving within our boarders.

As of 2016 (twenty years into the restoration effort), the ODNR reports that we were up to 74 nesting pairs statewide -- again, most of which were oriented along the Lake. We were thrilled when a pair pulled up a muskrat hutch and made Standing Rush home. The four cygnets we watched through their first season last summer were one of just three nests in all of Erie County and represented ~2% of the State's entire population of new arrivals -- 178 total in 2016!

In just two short years on this property I'm already accumulating a growing list of memories associated with these birds. Each adult can grow to four feet tall and 25-30 pounds with a wingspan of about seven feet. They truly are the bomber planes of our avian skies. For about a week back in early February, our 40 acres of millet hosted as many as 40 trumpeters. It was a lesson that I keep reliving on the marsh: don't assume what you see today will be there tomorrow. But what I love most about these birds is how curious, almost precocious, they tend to be. I'm continually struck that it seems as if they are as interested in watching us as we are of watching them. And that's saying something.

[ASIDE: I'll have to explain our other two species of swans, Mute and Tundra, in a subsequent post -- one an invasive, the other just a brief visitor from way north.]

Birds Abound

Ring-necked Duck (background) and Lesser Scaup, or "bluebill" (foreground)

I'm finding it's easy to get spoiled working in my "field office." None of the critters I witnessed over the last couple days in the marsh are particularly rare. Thankfully in fact, they are all actually pretty common in and around Lake Erie marsh country depending on the season. That said these aren't ducks you witness waddling across the putting green or seagulls you see bickering over a French fry in a strip mall parking lot. For that reason alone, they are worth a share.

The two duck species above are both considered "divers," meaning they are heavily reliant on diving below the surface of the water to pursue and gather food -- most often fish. As opposed to "dabbling" ducks which tip and bob in shallow water (think mallards), the Ring-necked Duck and the Lesser Scaup are among those most comfortable in deeper, open water. Spring is our best opportunity for visits from these and similar species, as they migrate back into Canada (and beyond) to breed. These and another commonly confused Greater Scaup are great examples of the subtlety of nature. Ironically, it's the ringed bill of the "Ring-neck" that sets it most apart from the other two "bluebills." We'll get more into these specific species and divers in general as the waterfowl season approaches.

Greater Yellowlegs

If we have freshly exposed mud with intermittent puddles of skim water (e.g. "mudflats") in the marsh in spring or fall -- for example due to a managed draw down of water through pumping or a prolonged drought -- we are going to have Greater Yellowlegs. As with its shorter-billed relative of a shorter stature (the Lesser Yellowlegs), this energetic shorebird (another informal grouping like diving ducks) is a pleasure to watch.

Yellowlegs are known both for seeking food in the mud at an almost frantic pace, and their shrill call is equally recognizable. They typically probe the shallows using their long bill to catch insects and crustaceans of many makes and models, but it appears the one on the right may have stumbled into a finned friend. Call him an opportunist, I guess.

One of my recent memories of this bird ties back to the dike rehab project we did last summer. Shorebirds were making their way back to us, and I got a major kick out of watching my then 10-year-old daughter patiently chase a Yellowlegs down the newly graded dike. At over 5' tall, my daughter may have found a kindred spirit.

These Bonaparte's Gulls are another species that can congregate in huge numbers at certain times of the year on and around Lake Erie. It's not unheard of to see 100,000+ of these elegant fliers all at once in November. (Think in terms of a packed "Big House" in Ann Arbor or "Horseshoe" in Columbus . . . that's a lot of gulls!)

Spring groupings are typically considerably smaller. I peeked in on 10-15 still in their winter plumage. I loved that they were happy to loaf on old, decaying loosestrife root balls. Their dark ear spot is replaced by an all-black head by summer, so it's easy to mistake the two color phases as separate species. Either way, they are striking.

Rising Temperatures & Moving Water Cue Fish Movement

Warm, moving water from the West Marsh discharging into the relatively cooler Sandusky Bay prompts a predictable but still strangely mesmerizing congregation of fish in our concrete spillway. Most fish near the surface are common carp, but there are also a few solitary gizzard shad, yellow bullheads, bowfin, and goldfish that pass by.

As the video above (taken yesterday) demonstrates, most of the species readily visible are the less “desirable” varieties often referred to as “rough fish.” This designation lumps a good number of species into the same category because they are (a) not commonly considered ideal as table fare, (b) not associated with the more recognizable “sport fish” that traditionally are pursued with hook and line, (c) not the most “attractive” (my wife often reminds me that’s definitely an ‘eye of the beholder’ situation), (d) they are considered “bottom feeders,” or (e) all of the above.

All of these species have value. As I briefly touched on back on April 4th, even carp can have beneficial uses -- not only in the commercial fishing trade but even ecologically -- in helping to curb the proliferation of certain undesirable plants by adding turbidity to the water. 

But our interests, now and in the long-run are to determine how to best promote fish species diversity. Improving connectivity to the open bay is step one. We are actually pursuing a funding tool right now that would replace our aging (and failing) spillway with a completely open-topped culvert. While fish currently have to swim through a pipe to enter or exit the marsh, this new design mimic natural conditions. And it would also allow us to "bar the door" when carp migrations are at their peak. More on this story as it develops.

P.S. To provide some perspective, most of the carp on the clip above are in the 5-15 lb. range. The biggest of the big may have exceeded the 20-lb mark. 

Some of the species we were able to see or hand net but not capture on camera yesterday include: largemouth bass, bluegill, black crappie, golden shiner, and sheephead. I also got a glimpse of what looked like a shorthead redhorse, which would be pretty cool. This particular species is intolerant of pollution and turbid (murky) water and is an indicator of good water quality. We hope to conduct more comprehensive sampling over the coming weeks to get a better handle on what fish are currently utilizing the marsh -- at least by gathering a snapshot in time. 

Spring Cleaning -- A Juvenile Bald Eagle in the Cottonwoods

A juvenile baldy caught in the act of some spring cleaning.

In the spirit of "Who gets tired of seeing bald eagles?" Roy got a kick out of the fact that this young raptor let him get close enough that he could witness a pretty prolonged preening and capture it from the seat of his truck on one of the dikes on the west side of the property.

Preening is essentially a regular grooming ritual that birds must adhere to in order to keep features clean, aligned, and operating at full efficiency. It's somewhat akin to us brushing our teeth. But instead of toothpaste, birds rely on a waxy oil that is secreted from a "preen gland" at the base of the tail. Certain species may preen just once or twice per day, but particularly this time of year (when birds are trying to look their best), it is not uncommon to see others tidying up more-or-less constantly.

The marsh is alive with juvenile eagles at present. These young birds may be as young as a year (last year's fledglings) or as many as four or even five years old. They are already large (4-6' on the wing), but they are distinct in that they are a mottled brown and white from head to tail -- no distinct white heads yet! Based on my research, most eagles in our area reach maturity at about age five. And if they can avoid all the perils that they are confronted with on a daily basis (high power lines, vehicles, and poisons -- just to name a few), an eagle can live to be 20 or even 25 years old in the wild (and twice that age in captivity).

Here are a couple fun facts to consider: a bald eagle's skeleton only makes up about 5% of its total body weight -- feathers make up far more -- and its stomach is roughly the size of a walnut! (They can thank their crop for the extra carrying capacity.)

Step 1 of a Woodland Restoration, continued . . .

Dead ash trees dominate what is left of the canopy of our 5.7-acre "Tower Woods" -- June 2015.

The Tower Woods following bush honey suckle and dead ash removal, prepped for reforestation -- April 2017.

It is already painfully obvious that it will be challenging to stay disciplined about posting regularly (much less daily) as the days get longer and the temperatures rise. The last few days brought 60s and 70s -- with today flirting with 80 degrees for the first time this year . . . a far cry from the upper 30s and snow of late last week. Good weather will tempt me away from the keyboard, but I'll do my best to keep journaling . . . 

Today was a noteworthy day in that we were visited by the Ohio DNR, Division of Forestry. The state forester came this morning to inspect the "site prep" portion of our the reforestation contract that we have entered into with the USDA. (More detail: 3/21/17) As you can see from the side-by-side from the sky, the "before" and "after" comparison is visually pretty striking.

The bottom photo depicts what remains of the woodlot after nearly two weeks of careful site preparation. An excavator with a surprisingly dexterous grabber attachment worked in conjunction with a dozer and track skidloader to minimize impacts on the surface soil while uprooting and removing invasive bush honeysuckle, dead ash trees (by far the dominant canopy tree), and any other less desirable woody species. What remains are just 50-60 solitary trees, mostly locusts and hackberries (with a few cottonwoods, oak, maples, and elms mixed in for good measure).

The state forester said he really could not have asked for a better job, so we got the green light to move to Phase II -- which will essentially be babysitting the understory to selectively remove any remnants of the invasive honeysuckle that try to rebound from this initial effort. Roy will serve as our regular watchdog. We have been given various suggestions for next steps based on how the weather plays out this spring/summer and how the site responds. It should be very interesting.

If all goes as planned, we will be ordering 1,100 trees from a Michigan grower in August or September. Each seedling will be a native hardwood (oak, black walnut, cherry, and sycamore), and each will be 2-4' tall when it is planted next spring (likely April 2018). 

While the local rumor mill in and around Bay View has many people convinced that we're prepping the site for houses our condos, those who hear we are planting more trees are all smiles. So are we.