Not Just Mentors, Salt of the Earth Good Folks

Ready for a tour with my aunt and uncle; call it a "bucket list" day for all of us!

A week ago this morning, I had the unique privilege to spend the better part of an entire day with a couple that I've admired all my life. My Uncle Dick and Aunt Fran raised their six children on the east side of a shared side yard. Their home is just down the bank of "Cat's Ass Lake" -- on the family farm where my parents built a home and raised the eight of us. This is the setting where my awareness of and passion for the outdoors first germinated. Deep roots were set there to support a lifetime of love for the natural world.

Adjectives like hardworking, passionate, focused, dedicated, tireless, philanthropic, and community-minded are all part of Dick and Fran's public identities . . . as individuals, as a couple, as parents, and as leaders in northwest Ohio and beyond. I can certainly vouch for all of these descriptors as accurate. But I might also add words like: humble, earthy, humorous, genuine, loving, and authentic. Bottom line: these are solid folks, and I've always felt honored to be in their presence.

I worked for and more importantly with my Uncle Dick through high school and into the first couple years of college, when I transitioned into seasonal work for the family business that he was leading as CEO. We poured building foundations, fenced pasture, shingled roofs, installed irrigation lines, rebuilt docks, stoned patios, planted countless trees and plants . . . the list goes on and on -- and this was all on their property and/or the family farm. It was all designed and orchestrated by my uncle. He showed me how. And we did it shoulder to shoulder, whenever he could be available.

Here I am on our beach at about age 7 with my brother;
I'm holding a bass that Uncle Dick stocked into our lake
(and that I probably caught a dozen times)

I obviously have learned a tremendous amount from Uncle Dick. And as I've gotten older, I've come to realize that while our interactions were of course different, I've learned plenty from my aunt as well. (She did introduce me to my wife, after all!) It's for this reason that I will truly cherish the opportunity I had last week. At no other time in my life have I had such dedicated time (without a nail apron at least). I picked them up at their home at 8:00AM, sharp (punctuality was a lesson), enjoyed an hour of drive time introducing our project, toured them around both the East and West marshes -- dodging lingering raindrops on the east side in my truck only to have the temperature moderate and the day evolve into a pleasant driving tour on the Mule on the West. They then treated me to lunch (of course) before we headed for home. The simple and easy conversation of the drive back (while Aunt Fran snuck in a few short naps in the back seat) was another highlight.

In the end, Uncle Dick and Aunt Fran were characteristically engaged and enthusiastic. On top of all Dick's lifetime of accomplishments, he and his brothers spent more than their fair share of time in a duck blind. He appreciated the tour with that context, but I think both of them enjoyed it for the wildlife, beauty, peacefulness, and overall breadth of our mission. Now flirting with his late 80s, Uncle Dick joked with me that visiting Standing Rush "someday" had become something that he put on his "bucket list." For me, having the two of them to myself for the day -- to show some of the results of their lessons being lived out through my work -- was just as satisfying.

P.S. I hope to add additional images from our tour at some point. They took some additional photos with their camera, but I was apparently too busy tour guiding! Appropriately, I think they marked the 299th and 300th visitor (family, friend, restoration partner, hunter, interested party) whom we've toured over the last 2.5 years. These numbers may be off by a few. I wasn't keeping good records early on. I have to commit to keeping a guest book. As with visits like the one above, it will be fun to look back.

What a Difference a Rain Makes: The Dinky Track

The view looking south from the center of the 100-acre Dinky Track earlier this week

Barring a catastrophic dike failure (which we thankfully did not and should not experience), the thought that a single rain could cause flood damage to a wetland might sound strange. But the last line of my July 16, 2017 post (the day we flew seed over 50 acres of the Dinky Track) was pretty prophetic . . . to continue the biblical theme . . . "P.S. Thunderstorms are in the forecast again for this afternoon."

Just a few short hours after the seed rained down out of that plane, the actual rain came down. And it came down in big drops, close together. The thunderstorm was sustained and within a few short hours more than 2" of water fell. Usually, this wouldn't cause major problems with a millet seeding when water can be taken off a unit. But because we were just on the jagged edge of "dry" enough and because we couldn't get it dry quickly enough (in part due to extremely soft sediment holding moisture), we've now come to discover that much of the seed rotted. The landing strip of relatively bare mud above is a testament to too much water at just the wrong time.

Per usual in marsh management, one has to take some
bad (e.g. Swamp Loosestrife, above) with the good;
such is life in a world riddled by invasive species

But as is so often the case in nature, there is a silver lining. We had a hunch that the Dinky would respond differently to a late drawdown as compared to the adjacent Tower Marsh. That's why we flew millet onto 50% of the Dinky versus more like 15% of the Tower. What we didn't anticipate is that both units would show positive responses from the seedbed (the seeds naturally residing in the shallow soil).

Based on our hike earlier this week, the Dinky has much of the same nut sedge that we are observing next door (a good thing). Where the millet is lacking, we are also seeing other good pushes of smartweed and beggerstick (more good news). There are also some hints at some desirable perennials -- most notably soft-stem bulrush (again, a good thing).

We knew we were going to be dealing with some invasive loosestrife, both purple (below) and swamp (left, and in isolated stalks to the right above). As we discussed from early on, the purple is largely being held in check by a friendly beetle. There are a couple initially daunting stands in the Dinky now, but as the photo below illustrates well, the beetles are doing their jobs. And as for the swamp loosestrife, they are really only prevalent on the very tops of old, rotting root clumps (on "high ground" islands no more than 18"x 18"). We are scratching our heads a bit as to the best management approach with these buggers (no, the beetles have no appetite for swamp loosestrife), but the good news is, they don't tend to spread overly quickly, and they are really only sporadically present in most of the unit.

A fairly sizable (~1 acre) stand of purple loosestrife trying to establish within Phragmites that was sprayed in 2015;
note browning and highly stressed plants in middle of frame (being attacked by the Galerucella beetle) and the
bright-colored plants behind -- in the cue to be consumed/killed

Bidens, or beggersticks, can be a bit of a nuisance when wearing fleece or neoprene (seeds stick to everything) --
but the ducks happily feed on them come fall, so we welcome their presence in the natural succession plan

Roy estimates he saw as many as 1,000 shorebirds (big numbers but not huge diversity) earlier this week;
rain in today's forecast might make Friday's viewing worth breaking out the field guide and camera -- to be continued

I could go on and on cataloging the plants we are seeing now and the various outcomes that could evolve. But as Roy keeps saying, "This is a one week at a time proposition." We watch the weather, watch the response, and adapt accordingly.

Dry Enough for a Walking Tour: The Tower Marsh

Changes are literally visible by the day when it comes to what is growing in the Tower Marsh at present; and the tiny seedling starts in the foreground are a surprisingly positive indicator of what might be to come (click to enlarge)

The Tower Marsh, an 85+ acre expanse that hasn't been much but shallow water (12-30" deep) ringed in Phragmites since we took possession of the property, is in the midst of a change that hasn't been witnessed in decades . . . like maybe three. For the first time since the '80s (we think), this management unit is dry enough to walk on foot.

Periodic (~weekly) rains over the last couple/few weeks have saturated the mud on at least a couple occasions. Last Friday, for example, a 0.5"+ of rain covered the expanse shown above with skim water in the morning, only to see it evaporated and/or absorbed by afternoon. This makes for some sticky walking in places, but it is the perfect incubator for a late season drawdown.

As I've written about in the past, we seeded the eastern ~10 acres of the unit with millet just a short month ago (a few weeks later than we had originally intended). The result of that seeding appears as the very light green in the background of the photo above. A shot "from the weeds" is included below. This introduction of millet was intended to create desirable cover along the Phragmites-dominated eastern dike, while leaving the majority of the new exposure prone to whatever resides in the seedbed. Our fingers have been crossed and based on our initial discoveries, we're excited!

The eastern end of the Tower is now a far cry from bare mud; it has been exposed the longest and is now dominated by a nice mix of millet (flown in), nut sedge, and soft-stem bulrush (seedbed generated) -- these areas are now supporting plants 12-18" tall

A closeup of the area above shows just what we were hoping for -- a healthy mix of "fruit"-bearing annuals (nudge sedge, pictured to the left) and even some desirable perennial species.

If you click on the image to the left to enlarge, you may be able to make out the rounded, darker stems of soft-stemmed bulrush. The largest of these plants are getting close to a foot and a half, but most are <12" and can be quickly covered in the more aggressive annuals. The good news is they are there, and they are taking root.

The other good news is that even on bare mud, the bulrush is present. In fact, it really seems to be the dominant plant in areas where water has just receded. Seedlings that are <3" tall can be difficult to identify to species, but with some experience and a good camera, you can train your eye to ID the usual suspects.

Below, I have included just a few select photos from of the other discoveries from our hot walk onto the mud. I'll try to detail what we found on the far east unit (the "Dinky Track") soon. While we implemented a similar management tactic, things are looking markedly different over there.

Demonstrating its propensity to germinate about anywhere that it can find a foothold, these two individual Japanese 
millet seedlings are joining a handful of bulrush on the inside curve of a decaying snapping turtle shell

Even one of my favorite wetland plants, arrowhead, is showing itself in very isolated clusters in the Tower

This perspective is most striking because two seasons ago it was a sea of Phragmites 10-feet tall or more; the sun-faded sticks and one isolated plant are all that remain after an aerial herbicide treatment (late August 2015); with the water now down, we are seeing the immensely positive response from the millet, nut sedge, and bulrush