Sights and Sounds of the Season

Two of the eleven trumpeter swans I got to watch as I worked my way around our eastern-most unit yesterday
(click to enlarge and enjoy the detail)

I love days like yesterday. After I assisted with the breakfast and day prep routine, my wife and kids were on the road to school. I got through my emails, ran through the snail mail, paid a couple bills, and was out the door not long after. A couple quick errands (to buy grass seed and pick up a trimmer part) prolonged my commute to work by a few minutes each, but by just after 9:00, I was at our field office.

The color pallet of sumac is typically an early indicator that more
leaf change is not far off

The day started with a Mule tour on the west side. I was pleased because I was finally able to show a friend from our church around the property a bit. Our schedules kept conflicting, so it was good to make it happen. While the cloud cover held on longer than had been forecast, and despite the fact that wildlife viewing was very modest (because we had punters prepping duck blinds in the marsh), he really seemed to enjoy himself.

After a little tire kicking around the bunkhouse, he was on his way home, and I was on to an afternoon of photodocumentation on the East Marsh. Besides the primary objective of gathering regular reference photos from the exact same vantage points and orientations at dozens of locations around the property, this discipline also affords me the unique opportunity to walk portions of the marsh with a camera in my hand -- and if I'm lucky, with very little distraction.

Black-legged Meadow Katydid;
sound familiar?

The photos included here were all taken as part of my broader efforts with the camera. So in addition to gathering great reference imagery on a landscape scale (for comparison through time as the habitat evolves), this monthly exercise has served as an informal way to build a timely photo journal.

From the changing leaves of staghorn sumac (above) to the intricate detail and familiar sounds of autumn insects (left and below), there is no doubt that we are once again in the midst of a major transition. Temperatures (70s and even 80s) have been summer-like, but the evidence of a new season is everywhere.

An additional fringe benefit of a few dedicated hours with a camera is that I can take reference photos of native plants. This time of year, I'm particularly interested in those that flower -- and eventually go to seed. If the plant is something that we see benefit in having more of on the property, I will often capture a GPS location of larger stands (both on-site and at other locations regionally). Assuming permission, I can then come back and collect seed that can be redistributed for our project.

The asters below are good examples both of a sign of the times (flowering asters in Ohio = autumn) and of native species that are desirable -- in this case, in the sense that they attract pollinators (not to mention they are beautiful). SIDEBARS: (1) I love how I can be taking a closeup photo of a plant or animal, and then find that I was inadvertently capturing other plants or animals in the frame (see below); (2) Asters can actually get pretty aggressive/invasive, so introduce them into a landscape with caution.

This image is like a Where's Waldo for insects -- can you find three?
Click to enlarge for a closer look

This little pollinator, which I believe is some type of hover fly, was kind
enough to pose again on a choice backdrop

I'll close this post with a vibrant image of a Differential Grasshopper -- a common species that was literally about
everywhere in the tall grasses yesterday; per usual, I love how this camera can capture the detail -- in this case,
not just of the insect, but also of the burdock leaf he is loafing on

Water (Intentionally) Flowing Back into the Marsh (Finally!)

This half-day project included the removal of an old, rusty metal pipe with a nice, durable plastic one; as you can see in the
photo below, it was capped with a brand new screw gate on the bay-front side to accommodate the strategic addition
of water into the main South Unit of the West Marsh, directly from the bay -- this will only be feasible when bay levels
are high like they are at present 

With "big duck" season set to open in under two weeks (October 14), it's getting down to the nitty-gritty in terms of time for larger-scale projects in the marsh. Unseasonably warm, dry weather has made for ideal earthwork -- and as such, Buehlers (our loyal excavating contractor) "made hay" while the sun shined.

Buehlers even gave us a make-shift stairway to our new screw gate!

Between last Thursday and this Monday morning, we successfully (a) installed two replacement pipes with screw gates where old infrastructure was no longer functional, (b) extended a third pipe on a similar replacement project that we started last fall (we were waiting for low water and other projects to bundle in to get the job completed cost-effectively), and (c) got a stone boat launch installed off of one of our dikes.

That may not sound like a lot, but trust me, it's a lot of moving parts. And now, the good news is we should be about finished with "major projects" for the 2017 field season and we are back to moving water back into the marsh -- in a systematic and strategic way.

Classic Roy Kroll

Speaking of adding water, the photo at right (taken yesterday) was classic Roy. While it's somewhat difficult to see, he is standing in `12" of water on top of a 36" diameter pipe, juggling two heavy tools in his hands while balancing the three others that I passed him on surrounding surfaces (all precariously perched over the water).

While this is another one of those proverbial "five minute jobs" in the marsh, it really is more of a circus exercise. The only certainly in an effort like this is you are going to get wet one way or the other, from sweat, the marsh, or both. And chances are good you'll get cut, scratched, and/or bruised, too.

The goal is to carefully force a narrow pry bar into the seam between the end of the pipe and the flap gate so that another (wider) implement can be worked in to gradually (and forcefully) "break the seal" -- which is caused by the four feet of head pressure, the foot over the pipe and the three feet on the pipe itself. The ultimate outcome, if successful, is to work the pipe open to the point that it can be lodged ajar to allow for a desired flow rate. In this particular case, we are trying to add up to a couple inches a day over 75+ acres, so one well-placed 2x4 provides all the volume we need.

Since spring and into mid-summer, I've spent a lot of time writing about moving water out of the marsh to achieve desired management goals. For as much as I wrote, our entire team spent that much more effort actually making it happen. Water going back in at this time of year is a meaningful milestone; it allows us to look back on the season's successes and means duck season will soon be upon us!

The pipe extension on the left of this image marks the completion of a pipe replacement that we started last fall;
this effort was conducted in conjunction with the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service and was critical to our
management efforts this past year

The Hits Just Keep on Comin'

Kimberly Kaufman (in green) and her support staff following a morning in the marsh; July 20, 2017

One steamy summer morning this past July, I had the privilege of guiding a handful of staff members and a handful of board members and volunteers from the Black Swamp Bird Observatory (BSBO) along portions of our interior dike system to take in the sites and sounds and to talk conservation and restoration. I say "portions" of the marsh because for those of you who are or who know birders, you can appreciate that tours tend to move at their own (slow) walking pace!

I really enjoyed our time together. It is always fun to see a group taken aback by a solitary bald eagle resting at close range on the dike. I got a real kick out of watching synchronized binoculars race to catch up with a young sandpiper scurrying across the path and hearing the collective "ooohhh!" as a black-crowned night heron banked overhead. Even though we didn't see anything especially "rare" -- particularly to a group of seasoned bird watchers -- everything seemed to be enthusiastically perceived as special.

The morning was particularly special for me and for Standing Rush. Of course, I loved the time together on the tour. But as the sun gained height and intensity, and as we sought refuge in the shade of some towering cottonwood trees before going our separate ways, BSBO's Executive Director Kimberly Kaufman made an informal presentation of sorts that really left me humbled.

This BSBO thank you note from our July field trip together
sits on my office window sill as a reminder and motivation

I've come to learn that $5 of every online registration for BSBO's stunning Biggest Week in American Birding is pooled into a collective "conservation fund." And each year the staff, board, and supporting committees vote on recipients to be stewards of these funds. Under the shade of those quaking leaves, Kim announced to me and to the group that Standing Rush would be this year's unanimous and sole recipient.

To say that I was (and am) flattered would be a gross understatement. It was a surreal moment in the life of this project -- and a tough secret to keep until Kim could make this announcement public.

Kim presenting me with an unrestricted gift of $8,000
to be used for on-the-ground restoration efforts
at Standing Rush

My wife and I were again flattered, this time as guests of BSBO's 25th anniversary gathering this past Saturday evening at Maumee Bay State Park. A packed tent braved crisp autumn temps to take in this historic milestone for the non-profit and to hear Kim's remarks (which she echoed in her notes that prefaced the organization's recently released newsletter, see page 2).

We were truly honored to be a part of the night. And I appreciated the opportunity (1) to tell all those in attendance that each dollar of their collective gift would be put to good use -- and (2) to reciprocate a thank you!

ASIDE: As another incredible example of the serendipity of this project, I recently found that all of our unanticipated costs incurred because of challenges associated with this year's historically high water (dike damage, extra water conveyance, etc.) ultimately tallied to a now familiar dollar amount: $8,000. (See photo at right.) Unbelievable.

P.S. Whether you are a birder or not, if you have an interest in or passion for the environment, do yourself a favor and learn more about BSBO -- maybe even consider becoming a member. While birds reign supreme, there is a lot more to their organization than beaks and feathers!