Continuing to Keep Eyes to the Sky

A 45-minute walk and a quick drive around the West Marsh in the MULE produced a decent sampling of what was on the wing as the north winds shifted south 

(clockwise: black swallowtail, American goldfinch, least sandpiper, Baltimore oriole, gray catbird, and eastern kingbird)

My sister's recent visit prompted me to spend a little more quality time with the camera. Coming on the heals of The Biggest Week in American Birding (something I'll continue to remind is worthy of a note in your calendar for 2018), it's particularly tempting to keep one's eyes to the sky. As of Monday, I'd say our warbler activity was still low to moderate compared to the last two springs -- except for yellow warblers, who are apparently congregating in massive numbers at our property to stage some kind of yellow-feathered mutiny. They are everywhere! The more common summertime residents also put on a show against the unbelievably blue, spring sky. The collage above is just a sampling of some that posed for the camera.

Bird activity on the marsh is definitely on the uptick, and the wind has FINALLY shifted south/southwest (as of Tuesday), ushering in higher temperatures, lower bay levels, and more birds. Yesterday was a busy day in the field. With temperatures tickling the 90-degree mark for the first time this spring, my hands were often too sweaty to handle the camera. That said I did spend the end of the day following a Baltimore Oriole as it sought out the perfect perch in the lush greenery of one of the large cottonwoods near the bunkhouse. When I see -- and hear -- the orioles in the tall trees, I know school is winding down, and summer is just around the corner!

This vibrant male was much more interested in singing than he was posing for the camera;
remember to click on any image to enlarge and click here to hear this bird

Midges, Midges & More Midges!

This closeup of the upper corner of our shop door (~2 sq. ft. of it) was taken after numbers started to decline.
The heat of the day seemed to push them to the shade and then ultimately, off the buildings.

Yesterday, the marsh was visited by millions of guests -- my sister and brother-in-law were two of them; most of the rest came from a different family: Chironimidae. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), these visitors did not come by car or bus. Most came on the wing.

There are a great number of different species in this taxonomic group, but generically, those who perhaps most notably frequent the Lake Erie coast are referred to most often as "midges." Other colloquial names include "muffleheads" and "muckleheads" -- both references to their "furry looking" antennae, I believe. I've also found reference to them as "Canadian soldiers," but I think that nickname is misplaced. Instead, I believe that is a local label for mayflies -- which will have to be a topic for another day.

Midges are often mistaken for mosquitoes, but in this case (again, fortunately), they do not bite or carry disease. They are very roughly similar in appearance, but the species we most often see in marsh country tends to be larger (~3/8" long), wider, and a bit clumsier in flight. Singly or in isolated groups, they can even be mistaken for small moths, but as the photo above demonstrates, there was nothing small about their abundance earlier this week. Monday morning, when I arrived at the bunkhouse, I would have been hard-pressed to find a place to set my finger without smushing a midge or two!

Like mosquitoes, midges spend most of their life cycle in the water -- awaiting the seasonal temperature cues of spring and summer to trigger emergence -- often in staggering numbers. This is another example of the genius of nature. While the three of us (humans) were busy breathing through our teeth (to avoid the inevitable bug up the nose or to the back of the throat), migrating songbirds were gorging on these prolific and well-timed nutrient bundles. I can't vouch for midges being very tasty, but to a weary warbler fueling up for the ~40 mile non-stop flight to Ontario, they are a welcomed snack. It's striking to me that the vast emergence of these (and other) critters is perfectly choreographed with bird migrations (in both directions) and with nesting -- another nutrient-demanding activity -- for those who call the marsh a summertime home.

Alder or willow flycatcher
in Monday's sunshine,
likely following a breakfast of midges
with a side order of more midges

 A few other midge "fun facts" (you know you want some!):

• Some researchers believe that large midge "hatches" are a sign of increased pollution and/or low oxygen zones, while other researchers believe that they indicate a cleaner Lake Erie.
• The pollution tolerance of midges are very specific to the individual species. With over 10,000 species worldwide, there are a lot of variables and a lot of reasons for debate!
• Midges tend to spend months or years under water only to live hours to at most a couple weeks on land/in the air.
• Midges tend to be loved by Cleveland fans, particularly Cleveland Indians fans, because a well-timed emergence that blew into Jacobs Field in 2007 rattled a Yankees pitcher (Joba Chamberlain) so badly that he gave up two runs in a 2-0 Indians post-season win!

"I had no idea . . ."

While the audio is hard to pick up, Roy is pointing out how the West Marsh spillway is conveying water that has filtered through literally hundreds of acres of our marsh before it is released (in a "cleaner" state) into Sandusky Bay; 

video taken following a series of heavy rains -- July, 2015

A few nights back, I was talking with my wife about reactions to my posts to this journal. I remain somewhat surprised that most aren't using the built-in comment features, but I am equally interested at the growing feedback I receive via email and even in person, as the number of readers continues to grow. As the audience broadens, backgrounds become more varied. Yet the most common sentiment seems to be, "I had no idea . . ."

How that sentence is finished depends on the individual (and usually the specifics of what was read), but I was struck when my wife said virtually the same thing. "Most people have no idea why all this is so important."

"All this" is a big topic. So I guess I'll start with why I see wetland conservation and restoration as so vital to each and every one of us. More specifically, I'd like to focus on one particular reason that is justifiably getting a lot of area press -- particularly since late summer, three years back.

The City of Toledo’s multi-day drinking water ban of August 2014 put wetlands and their ties to Lake Erie water quality very much at the forefront of local, regional, and even national media coverage. Often referred to as “nature’s kidneys,” coastal marshes are the last line of defense to convert excess nutrients (most notably phosphorus) to plant growth before entering a lake like Erie – where the overly abundant nutrients can nourish nuisance algal blooms. Wetland environments also take up a wide array of other chemicals and compounds – think natural and manufactured fertilizers, herbicides, pesticides, oils & greases, road salts, and even pharmaceuticals – to name a few. Wetlands have an innate ability to lock these "nasties" and more into growth forms (i.e., plants) that often do an amazing job of breaking them down into much less hostile elements.

This takes a diversity of organisms, time, and space. So when 300,000+ acres of coastal marsh on the Western Basin of Lake Erie (pre-European settlement) dwindles to less than 30,000 acres (present day), why is what remains so important? I'd like to share a few excerpts from columnist Jack Lessenberry's May 5, 2017 article from The Blade to help make the connection between preservation, restoration, and clean drinking water:

Few people know Lake Erie as well as Jeffrey Reutter, the recently retired director of the Ohio Sea Grant and Stone Laboratory on the lake . . . 

A few weeks ago, at a “Farmers Together” forum on saving Lake Erie, I asked him what would happen if President Trump’s budget ending all funds for the Great Lakes Restoration Initiative and slashing funds for the EPA becomes reality. 

The scientist, who is anything but an alarmist, responded instantly. “We can no longer count on Lake Erie producing safe drinking water for the 11 million people it now serves.”

To me, these few sentences sum up what has (rightfully) become a media blitz on the topic of safe and reliable drinking water. The need is obviously real, and the impact is broad. At the risk of being perceived as an extremist or alarmist myself: while there are many crucially important causes out there, I believe wetlands are at the heart of something vital to our very existence.

I'll write more on wetland's many values and functions in the days and weeks to come.