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.

A Continuation of the Millet Story: One Man's Weed is Another's Treasure

What now looks pretty sterile and nondescript is going to change dramatically in the next several weeks

We've now had just enough sunshine and warmer temperatures that we can start talking wetland plants again -- in the present tense. But as is so often the case, patience is a must. As you'll see below, we're going to start modestly.

I finally circled back and told the first several chapters of the Japanese Millet Story: West Marsh Edition. You can find the narrative on the bottom half of the 2016 summary page. But the images I share today are a continuation of this restoration initiative.

Quickly, let me provide some context. The 40-acre "Rest Pond" that resides just to the north of the newly rehabbed dike on our West Marsh has been maintained in a "deep water" state for years (maybe decades). Deep is a relative term, but when we took possession of the property, it was 3-4' deep with next-to-no life, much less vegetation in it (aside from several thousand carp that happily rooted through the soft sediment and patches of invasive curly-leaf pondweed as they passed between the marsh and bay).

This basin of "chocolate milk" has undergone a major transformation in the last 13 months (again, refer to the bottom of the 2016 summary page), but essentially, we drained it (May/June), seeded it with millet (June), let it grow all last summer (June-August), flooded it again in the fall to coax more duck activity(August - November), and then are draining it again this spring.

The photo at the top of this post shows where we are today (or this past Tuesday, anyway). It might not look like much from a landscape view, but what's going on at ground level is pretty exciting.

The close-up to the left shows a virtual carpet of newly emerging smartweed (in all likelihood Polygonum lapathifolium or P. pennsylvanicum -- a little early to distinguish). While only 2" tall, this is a really good sign. Last year's efforts seem to be paying dividends already. These seed-rich annuals will provide good cover and high energy to a broad array of waterfowl and wildlife.

By attracting outsiders to forage, this smartweed prompts what I like to call "digestive contributions" -- essentially, importing desirable seed sources through the digestive process: in the mouth somewhere else (maybe up or down the bay), and out the other end in our marsh!

It practically took being on our hands and knees to see the modest starts of thin-bladed grasses barely visible in the bare margins of the millet (see right). We hope that these individuals will ultimately prove to be rice cutgrass (Leersia oryzoides) or any of dozens of other grass-like species that offer the two key attributes that the smartweeds above offer: good forage and good cover.

Ideally, we will end up with a diverse mix of many of these "desirables," as I like to call them. High diversity of many plant species interspersed within a given area is almost always preferred over a monoculture (one species in a given area). Again, time will tell, but trust that we will be watching closely as the "Rest Pond" evolves!

While I'll readily admit that I'm not going to win any photography contests for any of these photos, it's also worth noting that we found some not-so-desirable plant species showing themselves among the skeletons of last year's millet. (NOTE that you can click on most photos to enlarge.) The spindly starts to the left are flowering rush (Butomus umbellatus), and unlike our namesake, are neither native nor desirable. We don't anticipate huge outbreaks, but we figured we'd have to stay vigilant and spot-treat them as we find them. The broader leaves of the plant on the right are another smartweed (P. amphibium), but they are less desirable because they tend to grow aggressively in a monoculture, and they don't provide much food value. The good news for us here is that they prefer expanses of open water, and they will likely get out competed before they can really get a foothold.

That's probably enough botany for today. I promise I'll try to have a little more color to display next time -- as long as our stubborn spring continues to bump warmer and brighter!

Rising Water Not Just About the Rain

Crew in action; Roy gets a hand from Julie and Nate installing a staff gauge on the West Pump spillway.
Gauges will be placed in seven or eight locations around the site to help us more accurately quantify
both nature- and human-induced water level fluctuations.

Considering that more than 3" of rain fell in 48 hours late last week and winds have been N, E, NE, or NW for ten straight days (with a forecast for ten more days of those wind directions), water levels are on the brain. May to June typically ushers in the highest annual water levels on Lake Erie. While this is shaping up to be the case this year, this spring has been anything but typical.

High water over the next month or two is tied to high levels of precipitation here and "upstream," as ice and snow melt in the northern Great Lakes and spring rains fall both up north and locally. Seiche (pronouced saysh) events often compound the raising water, especially with an active storm cycle this time of year.

If you have observed water sloshing back and forth in a bathtub or other confined basin, you witnessed a small-scale seiche. On a much larger scale, the same phenomenon occurs in bodies of water such as bays and lakes. A seiche can occur in any semi- or fully-enclosed body of water.

Seiches are typically caused when strong winds and rapid changes in atmospheric pressure push water from one end of a body of water to the other. When the wind stops, the water rebounds to the other side of the enclosed area. The water then continues to oscillate back and forth for hours or even days.

Lake Erie is known for seiche events. Because of the orientation of the lake, seiches are pronounced when strong winds blow from the southwest or northeast. According to NOAA, in 1844, a 22-foot seiche breached a 14-foot-high sea wall on the Western Basin and dammed ice to the extent that Niagara Falls temporarily stopped flowing. As recently as 2008, strong winds created waves 12 to 16 feet high in Lake Erie, leading to flooding near Buffalo, New York.

Because the wind these last couple weeks has been "stacking" water on the western end of Lake Erie (and into Sandusky Bay), and because the forecast suggests it may stay that way for another week or more, our water levels in the bay continue to rise. This elevation in water level is compounded when runoff from recent and very heavy rains have nowhere to go.

The result? Our water levels outside the marsh are as high as they have been in the 2+ years we've been managing the property. The persistence of north/east-dominated winds without a few day break of south/west has been atypical. Roy says he'd struggle to remember such a stretch in his few decades of living and working in marsh country. The good news is, the wind will eventually shift, and water levels outside the marsh will likely go down significantly (probably a foot or more). But in the meantime, we watch and wait.

P.S. Nate just finished up his first year at Hocking College and will be shadowing us this summer. His family has a long history in the area (their cabin resides on the NE corner of the East Marsh), and as a dedicated waterfowl enthusiast, Nate is eager to learn more about relevant biology and resource management. We are excited to have him with us!

Avoiding Arachnophobia: Prevention is the Best Defense for Ticks

The three ticks most common to Ohio showing relative size, from top to bottom:
the black-legged deer tick, the American dog tick, and the Lone Star tick 

My apologies to all those arachnid lovers out there -- you know who you are! I'll make sure to find time to post about some lovely, little spider in time, I promise. Honestly, I hate my first subject be such a nasty one . . . but consider it a public service announcement. Like it or not, we're now deep into "tick season," and while our particular marsh has not been consistent in producing these disease-carrying pests, we need to stay vigilant . . . as do you.

I can count on one hand how many times over the last two years I've found ticks on me following a day in the marsh. And usually, they've just been on my clothes. But I can tell you that it would have taken both hands (and a couple of toes) to account for the dozen dog ticks that I removed a couple weeks back after one particularly warm, windy afternoon in the field. That certainly got my attention!

Warm winters are thought to make for a "bad" tick season. The right balance of warmer spring temps (50s+) without too much standing water seem to bring them out of the woodwork. Ticks should not cause hysteria. But they do cause disease . . . and some that should certainly be respected.

Not surprisingly, there is a fair amount of literature out there about ticks. The Ohio Department of Health has a particularly helpful page devoted to the three most common species in our area. Their photo insert gives you a decent idea of markings and relative size, but they are all small (i.e., smaller than a pencil eraser when not engorged with blood). The smallest, the deer tick, is the most revered for its propensity to carry Lyme disease, but truth be told, all ticks should be avoided, if at all possible.

Depending on the species, ticks like tall grass, scrubby shrub habitat, and even the branches of the tree canopy overhead (which they can parachute from onto unsuspecting hosts). Therefore, total avoidance can be difficult. The Ohio DOH and the ODNR both have good tips on chemical deterrents that -- if used properly -- are considered to be safe. Look at DEET and/or permethrin. I'm a strong advocate for (1) wearing long sleeves and long, light-colored pants, (2) tucking in pant legs and shirts, and (3) getting in the habit of regular self-checks.

The proper clothing limits contact with chemicals, light colors make the ticks easier to spot, tucking in clothes limits tick contact with skin, and checks ever couple/few hours (or more, when they are particularly active) helps you remove the buggers before they got settled in and comfortable.

Ticks tend gravitate to joints, transitions in clothing, and especially hair. If you do find one attached, do not panic. Refer to the links above. Do a little reading on how to safely and effectively remove them, and then keep an eye on overall health to make sure there are no signs of infection or illness.

Don't let ticks be a deterrent to getting outside in the spring and summer. As with so many other things in life, a few basic preventative steps and some healthy vigilance can go a long way!

Guest Tenants in the Shop

Mother (or father?) Carolina Wren bringing back a tasty mouthful of "pill bugs" or "rolly pollies"

A piece of duct tape now covers the switch that controls the exhaust fan in our make-shift shop. A pair of Carolina Wrens decided it would be an ideal location for a nest. We figure fan blades and nesting birds don't play nicely together, so the fan is out of commission for the next week or so, at least.

This is classic behavior for these precocious and highly vocal little boogers. As a kid, I can remember a pair that was certain our newspaper slot would make the perfect home -- despite the fact that my mom cleaned their collection of sticks and pine needles out on a daily basis. I've heard of nests being made in about anything and everything, but they ideally choose a cavity that is ~6-feet off the ground and well protected from the elements. Our fan fits that description.

This species is another than pairs for life. Mom and dad share nest building and child-rearing detail. They can have up to seven young in a clutch, so the "selfie" I took with my phone may have only captured a couple of the disgruntled youth.

We are on the northern reaches of the Carolina wren's yearround range. They don't migrate much, if at all, so bitter cold tends to limit northern expansion. Mild winters, like the one we just experienced, are kind to the species. Overall, their numbers are thought to be on the increase.

I'd love to know if one of these adults is the same one that was hanging around the bunkhouse last summer. One morning in August, I arrived and opened my truck door to get some air while finishing a phone call. Before I knew what happened, a wren flitted into my cab and landed on my steering wheel, jumped to my knee, then to the ground near my brake, and was out with a scrap of yesterday's lunch . . . all while I was still in my seat. Gotta love close encounters with wildlife!

My daughter loved this pic. It was not an easy one to capture. I was perilously dangling over tools and supplies inside the shop, while both parents chastised me from outside. Meanwhile, the youngins just looked on with disgust.

Punt Boats, Punting & Punters

One of the waterfowl hunters who now lease our West Marsh, circa 1983, setting decoys from a punt

While the visuals here foreshadow shortening days and waterfowl migrating north to south, I can't wait till fall to provide some definitions. I am realizing that certain terms become part of the everyday vernacular in the marsh, but that doesn't mean that they are everyday words.

That said I was surprised (though I shouldn't be) that Google could instantly offer basic definitions:

PUNT (/pənt/)
noun: a long, narrow, flat-bottomed boat, square or pointed at both ends and propelled with a long pole, used on inland waters chiefly for recreation.

verb: to travel or convey in a punt; to propel a boat by thrusting a pole against the bottom of a shallow body of water.

Here is further description from Winous Point: 150 Years of Waterfowling and Conservation
(Sedwick & Kroll):
". . . options for navigation across the vast mashes were generally limited to shallow-drift, flat-bottomed boats known locally as punts. These fifteen- to sixteen-foot-long wooden boats were doubled ended (pointed) with sturdy decks fore and aft, and flared cowlings to counter splash. The punts drew about three inches of water empty and six inches when loaded with two men and gear, and with a strong push could be punted to the edge of dry ground."

Roy's incredible history of Winous Point goes into painstaking detail describing the attributes and evolution of the boats and their primary forms of propulsion (oars and then eventually "punt poles"). Vessels of similar design date back more than 2,000 years according to a variety of sources, but recreational uses probably have origins in Europe starting in the last couple/few hundred years.

Roy's book has some incredible images dating back to the 1800s and early 1900s. Our history, at least visually, is much more contemporary. As is the construction of many of our boats. The punt to the left (one of my favorite photos I've personally taken, to date) is a carrier-over from the previous marsh manager (more on Tommy later). The hulking steel hull is built like he was: to last.

Punts made of wood are still very much in use elsewhere in the region, but we have opted thus far for other, lighter materials. Our main transport punt is made of reinforced fiberglass. We are contemplating another that is made from an even more forgiving plastic. Times, materials, and designs have evolved, but the basic premise has stayed constant.

While the topic of PUNTERS or "puntmen" -- essentially the primary navigator of a punt boat -- deserves more than one post to be sure, think of these marshmen as the guides. Starting all the way back in the mid-1800s on and around Lake Erie, they provided the entree to the marsh for recreational hunting (and to a lesser extent, fishing). They still provide an integral role today.

A True Collaboration from Day One

A survey team from the Mannik Smith Group in Maumee
(SIDEBAR: Note that the green Phrag now exceeding waste height was burned to the ground just three weeks ago!)

Roy spent most of his day and I spent a good chunk of my afternoon yesterday accompanying a two-man survey crew around the property. Priority one was establishing specific boundaries for several discrete management units. Our secondary goal was to shoot elevations at a good number of key locations around the property to lay the ground work for future restoration and improvement projects.

I feel it appropriate to single out the Mannik Smith Group (MSG) for their work. They were prompt, professional and efficient yesterday, per usual. But even more notable from my perspective: yesterday marked a continuation of their ongoing support for the project. They are among a handful of Toledo-based organizations that were instrumental in this project getting off the ground in the first place.

Other notable contributors include: Marshall & Melhorn (legal), Louisville Title (title/survey work), Hull & Associates (environmental), and Signature Bank (financing). All of these entities have supported with expertise and a commitment to stretch our project dollars as far as they can go. I should also recognize Miller Diversified and SJS Investment Consulting for playing crucial advisory roles from the onset.

This project has been true collaboration from day one. And for that, I am truly thankful.
________________

Before signing off, I have to share a few images captured in yesterday's brilliant (and welcomed) sunshine. I had the luxury of helping to direct traffic, rather than do the work myself, so I could carry the camera. As usual, for every fun photo captured, there were dozens that didn't make it in front of the Canon -- or at least not in focus!

Another common site, the Yellow Warbler. These brilliant little guys are early to arrive and happy to stick around all summer to breed. They are constantly shuffling through lower branches of the understory and provide brief glimpses as they dart across the dike from dogwood to dogwood. This particular individual couldn't resist the warm morning sunshine, so it gave me the rare opportunity to find and focus.

The Red-bellied Woodpecker (figure that name out?!) is perhaps most recognized for its propensity to visit suet and make a mess of neighborhood bird feeders. But there is something different about seeing this striking bird in the trees. It's shrill call and constant motion make it fun to observe about anywhere though. We're blessed with lots of these and other relatives -- one of the silver linings of loads of dead ash trees.

I had no idea snakes would be this photogenic until I got a camera that could do them justice! This little garter was particularly cooperative because it was in the midst of a molt. Note the cloudy eyes and loose skin at the base of its neck. A warm rock and more of that irresistible sunshine made it tough to want to move, but I'm pretty sure it was far enough along in shedding its old exterior that it couldn't even see me 12" from its nose (the clouding of the eyes can make a snake temporarily blind until the molt is complete). Young snakes can shed their skins as often as every few weeks, so this makes them particularly vulnerable to predation.

I should get back to work . . . more photo sharing coming soon!

MOST WANTED: The Eastern Foxsnake

What's hiding behind that snarl of last year's growth? The Eastern Foxsnake: A Species of Concern in Ohio

I'm heading out to Erie County for what I hope to be a busy (dry) day in the field today. We have a couple guests touring the property in the morning, and among other things, we hope to show a survey crew around to establish some parcel lines and establish some elevations at key locations on the site.

But before I hit the road, I wanted to share this find. I finally got the photos organized last eve . . .

On a recent afternoon where the sun actually broke the clouds, we found ourselves in the midst of one of our MOST WANTED. Roy was monitoring for recent muskrat activity, when he stumbled onto the sight pictured above. You have to look closely, but it was definitely a highlight of the day.

Roy was fully confident that our marsh should be home to a decent number of Eastern foxsnakes, a species that played an important role in his Masters work when he lived and conducted research on the property in the late 1970s. As one of Ohio's largest snakes (growing to 5'+) and boasting of one of the more impressive contrasts in coloration you'll see in a Midwest snake, this reptile would seem hard to miss. But this species is only known to inhabit a handful of northwest counties in Ohio, and is therefore one of eleven "state-listed" reptiles recognized as a Species of Concern.

Along with its immediate physical attributes (size and color contrast), its bronze head and propensity to shake its tail when threatened make it often mistaken as a rattler or other poisonous snake. In truth, this surprisingly docile creature is tightly tied to lakeside marsh environments and, as Roy found out through his studies, would rather eat mallard duck eggs than latch onto your calf or hand.

Based on his research, Roy found that foxsnakes were actually the #1 predator of mallard eggs on the property. A raccoon or possum would break all the eggs (leaving broken shells) and eat without restraint until the entire nest was decimated, but a foxsnake would stealthily take one egg per overnight visit, leaving no tell in the form of broken shells.

Julie showed her experience with reptiles by gently handling this individual long enough to photo-document, sex, and measure before releasing back into the protection of the sun-drenched vegetation. A female, she measured just over 50-inches long. She's apt to be mating now, and if all goes as planned, she will introduce as many as 30 young snakes to the marsh by late summer or early fall.

Next on our herpetologist most wanted list: the threatened Blanding's turtle,Lake Erie watersnake, and possibly the endangered Eastern Massasauga.


P.S. For a great photo field guide of the reptiles of Ohio, check out the Division of Wildlife's Publication 354. It is actually part of an entire series that is free and available to the public.

MULE and a Marsh Tour

A little rain didn't deter this group -- I really enjoyed showing my cousin (Mike), his wife (Carol), and three
of Mike's fraternity brothers around the West Marsh the other day

To me, there is no better way to see the marsh than being out in it. The photos that help make up this online journal provide literal snapshots in time, but nothing beats the air on your face, the mud on your boots (and other places), and the sun and wind on your neck.

A drive along the dikes in a pickup truck or SUV sometimes has to do . . . say when it's 10 degrees, pouring rain, or blowing 40 mi/hr our to of the northeast. Walking tours are awesome, but ironically, sometimes limit the diversity of wildlife viewing at close range. (Somehow, they often just know that you are coming.) "Punting" quietly through the shallows in an open-topped kayak-like "punt" boat is another great way to see and experience these unique surroundings. More on that soon.

But as Roy will tell you, my vehicle of choice for quick introductions to the property is our 4x4 Kawasaki MULE. As the name suggests (Multi-Use Light Equipment), we use this thing for a wide range of work and fun. Low and high gear, four-wheel drive, a winch, a work bed, and a tow hitch lend themselves nicely to the work side. But the open-top and two rows of seating make for a nice combination of comfort, convenience, and intimacy -- at least in my mind.

We definitely felt the wind in our hair last Friday afternoon. The recent rounds of showers were just rolling in, but not before we had the chance to drive the entire exterior of the West Marsh. Egrets and herons, immature eagles, and yellowlegs entertained from the air and shallow water. Tree swallows took advantage of the spring gloom to get busy catching bugs. The pump was running, so the group got a kick out of carp viewing -- somehow, it never seems to disappoint. At mid-afternoon with weather rolling in, it was actually relatively quiet from a wildlife perspective. But at least a couple of our guests independently commented on the "explosion of life" as soon as we pulled off the road and into the marsh. I try my best not to take all that life for granted.

My message to all of them as we wrapped up our hour-long tour (and the raindrops got bigger and closer together) was that every day is different on the marsh. In fact, every hour, every minute, every second brings change. More and more people are asking for tours. We are happy to provide them. The biggest challenge is that I want to show everything that the marsh has to offer. What I'm learning is that it is only in consistent time in the field that "everything" slowly reveals itself.

The Algonquin Indians Called it "Musquash"

Muskrat, showing off the teeth and the fur that make them famous

It's about time to get enter a mammal into the discussion. The Common Muskrat (with special emphasis on Common) is aptly named in marsh country. While often mistaken for a miniature beaver, they are actually an adeptly aquatic freshwater rodent more closely related to mice and rats. At 15-28" long (including their markedly narrower tail), "rats" rarely exceed 4-5 pounds (compared to 20-70 lbs for their paddle-tailed cousins). Anyone who has encountered them at particularly close range can attest to a strong and distinct odor that literally fills your nostrils . . . and won't let go!

While seemingly small and innocuous (at least at a distance), muskrats are more than just pungent passers-by in a coastal marsh ecosystem.  They are intimately tied to the ebb and flow of cattail populations, driven historically by water level changes and more recently by an influx of invasive species like purple loosestrife and Phragmites. When cattail populations are strong, dense stands can support tremendous numbers of muskrats.

According to the ODNR, females normally produce up to five litters per year in Ohio, with each litter containing up to seven young. That’s up to 35 young a year from a single reproducing female! Juveniles are able to take care of themselves within a month and are on their own and often reproducing themselves by the following spring. With this dizzying math in mind, it's not outside the realm of possibility that local lore could be true: a neighbor of the marsh contends that in the 1920s and '30s as many as 10,000 muskrats were trapped off the Bay View marshes in a single season!

A free-standing muskrat lodge made out of cattails becomes a haven
for everything from nesting waterfowl to reptiles and amphibians

Muskrats are deeply intertwined with the natural and human history of marsh country. Like commercial fishing, trapping has been a mainstay for generations along Lake Erie -- and muskrats have been a foundational and consistent resource. While fur prices continue to yo-yo, trappers persist not only to supply domestic and international demand (now largely from Russia and China), but also to help prevent these tireless tunnelers from making Swiss cheese out of the earthen dikes and levees that help sustain their aquatic habitats.

In the last two weeks alone, we have repaired more than a half dozen subsurface "runs" that have caused breaches within internal dikes. This management challenge tends to come in waves, particularly when water levels are altered in areas that have not dramatically changed in recent history. By drawing water off a unit that has been held high for multiple years, we are exposing internal cavities that can quickly become breaches under changing water pressure. As with everything on the marsh, change begets change.

A Lesson in Evolution

Perhaps the least appreciated "end" of a Great egret

I just had occasion to be in my six-year-olds' kindergarten class for a morning of volunteering. Among other things in a bustling classroom never short on activity, they are in the midst of an extended session learning about birds. The day's specific topic was migration, but as we left, it was clear that birds were on the brain.

In the truck, I asked if they knew where birds came from. (This was not intended to be a precursor to "Where do babies come from?" but I realized as soon as I had asked the question that the conversation could get interesting.)

The brief silence after my question gave me enough time to sneak a peak in the rear view. From what I could tell, the twins were comparing notes with their glances before they offered a response. Soon enough though, one of them piped up, "Lizards, right? Or dinosaurs or something." Even though the topic hadn't been covered with me in the room, their teachers had connected some dots.

When we got home, I showed them the photo above, just recently taken at the marsh. Pretty hard to deny the link. Makes you want to go invest in some better binoculars, doesn't it?

Tails & Scales

What I believe to be a Butler's gartersnake

Yet another sign of spring . . . At about 15" long and perfectly camouflaged to blend with the newly exposed ground in our "Tower Woods," this little relative of Ohio's most common snake (the Eastern gartersnake) was taking advantage of plenty of sunshine and temperatures in the low 80s, earlier this week.

Now that the dead canopy is totally removed (see April 10th post), we were literally on our hands and knees trying to identify the first starts of new, green growth when this bugger slithered into view. Roy had to point him out, and he was literally right under my nose! It's the first snake I've seen at (very) close range this spring, but there is no doubt that these legless reptiles have been waking up more and more over the last several weeks.

Watersnakes are becoming a common sight, particularly on sun-heated rocks along shorelines or in low-hanging limbs over or near water. It's not unusual this time of year to see literally dozens of the Common watersnake sharing a sun-bleached willow. They are often Medusa-like in their propensity to get intertwined. I need to do some homework, but I speculate that this behavior is tied not only to elevating body temperature, but also to breeding.

Midland painted turtle

Painted turtles are also getting to be a common sight on downed logs and on small, remnant wooden duck hunting paraphernalia from years gone by. Unfortunately, I'm also seeing fair numbers on roadways that surround the marsh. I actually plucked the young adult to the right from the center line of SR 269 while driving in our UTV. I'm always struck with their beauty -- particularly at close range -- and by the fact that because they are likely the most common turtle in the state, they are so often under-appreciated. While we certainly will be on the lookout for some of their less common relatives, a paint's colors and patterns really are striking.

Mystery serpent

Keeping on the topic of reptiles, I really liked the almost abstract still-life that Roy captured on a wave-weathered piece of driftwood. Can you identify him (or her) without seeing a head or a tail? I'll let this image serve as a teaser to another snake post I plan to include very soon. For now, I'll just say we have gotten a positive ID on a species we've been keeping a keen eye out for . . .

The Warblers Are Coming! (and so are some other cool birds)

Yellow-rumped or Myrtle Warbler in dogwoods -- April 21, 2017

As anticipated, lots has changed since I left northwest Ohio just over a week ago. Native trees and shrubs are starting to leaf out in earnest and especially for those who fertilize, the lawn mowers have been asked to come out of hibernation, too. I've yet to make my first cut, but there is no question that spring has sprung in northern Ohio!

From what I hear, last week's weather along the Lake was a classic seesaw: one day of bright sunshine reminded untested skin that it's getting to be sunscreen season, and then the next day it was time to scramble for a winter hat. But there has been enough sustained wind from the south to start ushering in the often colorful and always inspiring neotropical migrants. Warblers are the stars of the show, but dozens and dozens of bird species make their way from southern reaches often amazingly far afield (think Central and even South America). Individuals may only rest over for hours or days as they push on into Canada, but the bi-annual (spring and fall) phenomenon is just getting going and collectively should last for weeks.

I would anticipate I'll be writing plenty more on guests such as the Yellow-rumped Warbler in the lead-up to and even following The Biggest Week in American Birding. For those unfamiliar, this is no publicity stunt. This is another example of a Northwest Ohio treasure that often goes unnoticed or at the very least wildly underappreciated locally while it has become must-see entertainment for a regional, national, and even international audience. (The Oak Openings region and Lake Erie in general could be put into a similar category.)

At any rate for now, here are a few other cool images Roy collected while I was away. I'll be playing catch up with some others over the coming days.

Tree Swallow (with an itch)

Great Egret (apparently in the midst of a staring contest)

Wood Ducks in millet (hen in front, drake in rear)

Dunlin (non-breeding)