Deer Activity on the Rise Through a Transition on the Marsh

A mature doe ventures out along one of our property lines. Whitetail numbers are strong in the area, but deer behavior
in a marsh is unique to deer habits in a woodlot or amidst traditional agricultural land

The last week has brought much more seasonable temps (30s to 50ish) and finally a bit more pop to autumn colors that were -- until now -- pretty muted by temperatures 10-20 degrees above average. With steely skies and temperatures in the 30s, it felt like Halloween yesterday. And it certainly feels like November today.

The deer got the memo. Our motion cameras -- set-up, in part, to monitor for trespassing* -- have picked up a lot more four-legged traffic these last couple weeks. And if history is any guide, the rut (the annual pursuit of does by bucks) should be in full swing in the next week or so. I, along with a few close friends and family members, do archery hunt the property. But I've found there is a whole new learning curve when hunting in and around an expansive marsh. There are plenty of places to hide . . . and deer have no hesitation swimming to seclusion. In fact, it's somewhat of a rarity that we even see deer during much of the season. And when we do, it's just as apt to be in the water. I've even had them wade right through my decoys during a duck hunt. Pretty surreal.

I watched four mature bucks pursue a solitary doe on my drive home from dropping my son at school this morning. Now that duck season is temporarily closed (as of this past Sunday night and until November 11), I can shift my pursuits. I hope to "get in the tree" (into my tree stand) over the next few days.

The "break" or the "split" between open waterfowl seasons gives us a chance to fine-tune our water levels and take care of a few odds and ends. But the field season is largely winding down. Today, I worked on cataloging my regular photo-documentation efforts -- literally thousands of individual frames (see examples below). I will take my monthly monitoring photos the next time the sun shines (maybe Friday), and continue to transition toward inside work and winter pursuits (planning, design, grant writing, etc.). As with nature, our efforts are seasonal and cyclical.

The eastern end of the "Center Unit" of the East Marsh that we just sold to the neighbors, pre-restoration -- October 2016

One year later: a comparable perspective, after strategic water level manipulation -- October 2017;
the resulting diversity and quality of the vegetation in this area surpassed our expectations

* NOTE: I mention trespassing above. Fortunately, we have not had to deal with too much in terms of unwelcome (human) guests, at least on the majority of the property. We are dealing with a chronic littering/dumping issue on an isolated area near the village (but just outside village limits). We have frequent visits from shoreline fisherman along the roadways. Most probably just assume that the water is owned by the State. And we have had some issues with illegal ATV access. But again, this has been isolated to a specific portion of the property, and I think we have now sent the message that the property is private and that they are to stay out. I will likely speak more on this topic in the future, but suffice it to say, its a challenge. How do you keep a large site visually unaltered without running the risk of a small sub-set of the population taking advantage? All we can do is stay vigilant, be firm if we confront a trespasser, and continue to try to educate.

Walking the West Marsh

Grasshoppers, crickets, katydids, and others with six legs continue to be having a field day with these prolonged warm temps;
I don't know my insects very well, so I could use some help on this ID -- seemed to be a cricket (making noise with its legs
rather than wings, as hoppers do), probably 1-1/4" long, big jumper

With the sun shining (for a few hours at least) yesterday, I took the opportunity to photo monitor the West side of the property. I'm taking over 120 landscape images (monthly) for historical reference over there, but again, I could't resist capturing critters as they presented themselves. I thought I'd share a few of my favorite photos from the day.

We've had nearly four inches of rain in under a week with more unseasonably warm weather, so duck activity is still modest at best. But winds just shifted northeast, and we are supposed to cool off quite a bit -- at least for a day or two. By the time I drove home, the cloud cover had built up again and the temps were dropping. Afternoon highs reached the low to mid-seventies, but it was probably more like 62 by the time I got home about 6:00 last evening. That should usher some new birds down. And that's a good thing; the natives (duck hunters) are getting restless -- Opener is Saturday!

This parent trumpeter and its mate were accompanying four cygnets (young) through our newly emerging cattails in what
was millet last year; they were a ways away (~75 yards) when I took this shot, but both adults kept standing up
on muskrat hutches to keep an eye on me (Note the capture of water droplets from its bill . . . at 75+ yards!)

I like this photo because it shows several steps in restoration progress; from left to right: the water is up against the newly
installed stone protection in preparation for duck season; the middle of the image not only shows the heart of the new dike
(last year's effort), but newly emerging grass -- finally popping after all this water; and the right side shows the reds of a
bumper crop of smartweed -- a fowl-friendly food source that pioneered after the millet and will further 
encourage the proliferation of sustaining perennials like bulrush and cattail

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

Photo Monitoring with the Critter Getter

My nine year old son was so inspired by Rare (see July 11th) that we decided we need to start putting together our own
"photo ark" of unique species for the property; he helped me capture this image of a Wandering Glider

Yesterday proved to be one of -- if not the -- most satisfying days I've had in the field so far this field season. Practically speaking, I was able to complete my newly established photo-monitoring on the eastern half of the property effectively and efficiently (in about four hours) to visually capture changes related to our drawdown. But personally, I had the satisfaction of sharing the time with my nine-year-old son, Anderson.

Despite 85+ degrees and plenty of intense and sustained sunshine, my faithful companion did not miss a beat. He had the option of staying in town for a pool party with a good group of friends, or putting on jeans and work cloths for a day at the marsh. He didn't hesitate -- when given the option to come, or when shown what the day's project would entail. He was all in.

Anderson is what I call a "critter getter," meaning he is always game to chase whatever there is to pursue. Whether it be frogs (perhaps his favorite pursuit), turtles, minnows, butterflies, or lizards (on trips south), Anderson tends to have a bit of a one-track mind. Like father, like son, I guess.

Yesterday, we both had the distinct pleasure of witnessing an explosion of life from a fascinating group I've had my mind on a lot lately -- Odonata. Odonates are an order of carnivorous insects, encompassing the dragonflies and the damselflies. With informal grouping names like dancers, skimmers, cruisers, darners, bluets, spreadwings, forktails and clubtails, meadowhawks and pondhawks, it's hard not to be intrigued.

I am a complete rookie when it comes to identifying this general taxon. I'm already anticipating a new passion/obsession because chasing these guys with a decent camera is kind of like pursuing songbirds for the first time with a good pair of binocs. The Canon was a window into a whole new world, and Anderson and I found ourselves routinely interrupted from our landscape monitoring in pursuit of the perfect insect photo. Many "got away," but as the images here demonstrate, we "caught" a fair number on camera, too. Anderson routinely corralled the fast-fliers toward me, served as my spotter as they jumped from stem to leaf, and then highfived me in congratulations each time I got the shot.

We ended up with about sixty wildlife images to go with the 59 monitoring photos we needed. I obviously don't have space to show them all (even the best of them all) here, so I'll try to post again later this week with some more cool plants and insects. I postulate that our drawdown coupled with recent high temps has lead to a proliferation of "dragons" and damselflies, so I'll try to get back out soon to capture more. Based on preliminary reading, it looks like 160+ species live in or migrate through Ohio . . . and not surprisingly, wetlands along the Lake Erie coast tend to be a hotbed. I'm pretty familiar with their complex life cycles (mostly spent in water), but I have a lot to learn in terms of diversity. I'm hoping it's something the kids and I can learn together.

We enjoyed watching these Eastern Pondhawks all day long

Thanks to Linda Gilbert of the Geauga Park District for properly identifying this female Widow Skimmer;
the yellow in this photo appeared even more gold in person

Thanks again to Linda Gilbert (Geauga Park District) for clarifying that this is an orange-form female Eastern Forktail;
they may be small, but their color packs a punch

I spent a good deal of time yesterday trying to get classic poses for identification and reference, but in some (rare) cases, the subjects were so cooperative, that I had to try to get in for a closer look. Make sure you click on the images below to appreciate some of the detail. And trust me, there are images out there that make these look like finger paintings. Still, these macro shots really have me curious to observe, photograph, and learn more.

Note remnant of an insect meal on the front, left leg -- hopefully what's
left of a mosquito!

Anderson at work in the East Marsh