Another Waterfowl Species in the Marsh: A Goose of the Sea

An adult Brant, distinguished from a juvenile by the white comma behind its head, winters by the tens of thousands
on the Atlantic Coast; we are lucky to see a handful in Ohio each year
Photo courtesy of the The Cornell Lab of Ornithology

We picked up another bird species on the official site-specific tally this week, and fittingly considering the season, it was a waterfowl species. I have to admit though, I've never "added" a species to a property total quite so literally. (Usually the verification comes by way of binocular or camera lenses -- not shotgun shell.)

Tuesday morning, one of our West Marsh blinds harvested a Brant, a small goose most at home on the Atlantic and Pacific coastlines. Noticeably smaller than a Canada goose but larger than a mallard (one of our biggest common ducks), this gray-tone fowl had the guys scratching their heads a bit. The solitary bird passed low over the decoys, and ultimately presented well enough to justify a shot.

While abundant -- even to the point of approaching nuisance levels -- in their traditional ranges, Brant are categorized by the Ohio Division of Wildlife as "rare to uncommon." They are one of 94 bird species that the ODNR identifies as historically present within its borders, but they are asterisked in that they "may not occur annually."

Adult Brant (Atlantic variety)
Photo courtesy of the The Cornell Lab of Ornithology

The Brant breeds in the high Arctic tundra and those that make their way past us are en route to winter grounds along the Atlantic Coast. (Pacific fliers were once thought to be a separate species, but near as I can tell, they are still considered one taxonomically.)  Independent of the coastline, they are definitely birds of the sea, so any observation inland is a temporary stop-over. Virtually all Ohio records are from the shoreline of Lake Erie.

Brant typically occur regionally as single birds or very small groups. Our experience this week fit that description. The guys were pretty sure they saw a second individual later in the morning, feeding in the open water a couple hundred yards from the blind. To make it very clear, harvesting Brant is completely legal. In fact, they are managed just as Canada geese are in the Buckeye State. Seasons mirror each other, as does the daily bag (three birds per hunter).

While the beauty of a bird is seldom captured too long after the shot, there is some discussion of having this
specimen mounted to help replicate its handsome look on the wing -- it's pretty unlikely the hunter will shoot another one . . .
at least in Ohio

Combating an Aerial Assault: Phragmites Seed

A sea of Phragmites (about 20 acres worth) beneath an awe-inspiring blue October sky;
plants propagate quickly by rhizome (rooted expansion), but the broom-like seed heads also set new pioneers by wind

With raindrops steadily falling for the second day in a row, winds howling, temperatures nose-diving, and the possibility of snow showers in the extended forecast for the first time this season, I thought an image of last week's blue sky might be warranted. But for as beautiful as the top of the image above feels, the bottom is pretty ugly. This is an overview taken from the south side of one of our outlying parcels ("Parcel 2") facing northwest toward Sandusky Bay (which is just beyond the cottonwoods in the middle of the image).

Late last week, Phrag seed literally blanketed much of the
downwind vegetation; this dogwood is hardly recognizable
(click to enlarge)

The view encompasses about 20 acres (~20 football fields), but there isn't much visible other than the highly invasive thorn in the marsh community's proverbial side: Phragmites australis. I've spoken on this subject plenty already, but this plant truly is a menace. It can grow from nothing to 16' tall in a single season. It can produce an astounding 200 discrete stems in ONE SQUARE YARD! And as the image above demonstrates, it can make a monoculture out of a marsh in no time flat.

Dry conditions a year ago literally about sucked the life out of this stand. As of last fall, only a few smaller pockets of lush green sustained the dwindling Phrag, and it looked like more upland competition might actually win out. This is not something we are used to seeing. It looked like good fortune.

But note that I said the dry conditions about sucked the life out of the stand. This year's historically high water levels in the lake and bay meant an influx of new moisture, and the Phragmites got the upper hand . . . and then some.

This is our largest wetland area where we do NOT have the ability to manipulate water levels. If the water goes way down, a more upland mix may take root. If the water level goes up, a sea of Phragmites ensues.

Parking lot planter

This is a case not just for the ongoing funding of the aerial Phragmites spraying program (which we participated in back in 2015 but regionally lost funding for in 2017). It is also a case for the merits of marsh management within an earthen levy system (aka diked marshes). Water drives all life; and even an inch or two can make the difference between rich habitat and a virtual vegetative dessert in a wetland setting.

Seed dispersal like we are seeing at present at the marsh is disheartening on one hand, but the good news is we have learned how to minimize the negative impacts by keeping high water on adjacent habitats at this time of year and during the early couple months of next spring/summer. But make no mistake, as the photo-op from a recent visit to a Detroit Airport parking lot makes clear (see right), even the slightest opportunity can be made good by a strategically placed, opportunistic Phragmites seed. Like it or not (and I don't), it's one amazing plant.

[I have consciously decided not to include images taken off-site of the marsh, but this one was just too good -- or bad -- to pass up. Be sure to click to enlarge.]