Good Timing

Re-seeding of the main West Dike is complete; just in time for the rain

I wanted to post the image above just because it's a great testament to the importance of timing in this work (plus, I love the colors and the depth of the clouds in the sky). Roy convinced the Buehlers that they should come out this morning and seed the dike that they just stoned ahead of what forecasters are saying will be a steady and sustained rain that should last for the next day or so.

Until we heard from them this morning, they were planning to come out tomorrow (challenging the meteorologists' forecast). At the last minute, they called an audible in favor of today. Just as they pulled their dusty tractor back onto their trailer and got ready to head for home, the first rain drops hit my windshield. Ground is broken. Seed is in place. Fertilizer is in place. Hay is down. The forecast suggests good grass growing weather. Fingers crossed.

Wilson's Phalarope

I also just got word as to how the recent shorebird walk lead by the Black Swamp Bird Observatory went back on August 26th. About 15 birders from the Toledo Naturalists' Association spotted 59 species of birds (2,418 individuals) in just about 2.5 hours of walking around our East Marsh.

They recorded everything from American Bittern to Wilson's Phalarope (right), and just shared all the specific data with me. Again, timing was right. The mud was exposed and "fresh" from some recent light rains. So while diversity wasn't immense, they did record about 16 shorebird species. It seems fun was had by all.

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.

Did Someone Say Mud?

My post from earlier in the week set the stage for what we are experiencing now in on the East Marsh. All our water management over the last several months has finally allowed us to reach our goals, and we are experiencing the extensive "late season drawdown" that we established as our primary 2017 restoration objective for nearly 200+ acres of marsh.

The vegetative response will be very interesting to watch. If we like what we see, we let it ride. If we don't, we always have the option of re-flooding one or more of the management units and essentially starting over.

But one thing we definitely can see is that the timing of our newly exposed mud is setting the stage for what we hope will be a bonanza of shorebirds. Dozens of species like the one pictured to the left are specifically adapted to capitalize on these situations. Their feet are typically long and well suited for "snowshoeing" through the wet mud, and long legs don't hurt anything when the mud is soft and the bugs are plentiful.

What amazes me most about this group of birds? (1) Their diversity [I have a lot to learn to differentiate all the subtleties that differentiate the species]; (2) Their ability to find and exploit new mud [they seem to appear out of nowhere the instant water goes away]; and, (3) Their metabolism [most of these species seem to never stop moving!]. Identification is tough (I'm always looking for positive id's from those who know more than me), but photography can be even more challenging. We hope to spend more time in the marsh with a camera over the days and weeks to come.

This medium-sized hunter of the shallows let me get pretty close yesterday while I was photo monitoring.
Can anyone ID?

Just like shorebirds, bird watchers seem to appear out of no where as soon as new opportunities arrive. I witnessed six vehicles and nearly a dozen individuals armed with scopes and telephoto lenses on the roadside to the west of our East Marsh late on Wednesday afternoon. Word is out that we have "fresh mud." Seasoned birders are well aware that the shorebirds are sure to follow.

For perspective, here are some comparison photos from the same vantage points: June versus August. The "after" shots were just taken yesterday.

BEFORE: Very sparse emergent vegetation and turbid water dominate in the Tower Marsh; June, 2017

AFTER: Millet and other annuals are beginning to fill in opportunistically thanks to the dry conditions that are conducive
to germination; August, 2017

BEFORE: Broad expanses of shallow water dominate the 100-acre Dinky Track, leaving little but dead and decaying
loosestrife clumps in the background; June, 2017

AFTER: The same perspective following drawdown -- shorebird activity is picking up and so is the germination of new
annuals in the mud; August, 2017

Birds Abound

Ring-necked Duck (background) and Lesser Scaup, or "bluebill" (foreground)

I'm finding it's easy to get spoiled working in my "field office." None of the critters I witnessed over the last couple days in the marsh are particularly rare. Thankfully in fact, they are all actually pretty common in and around Lake Erie marsh country depending on the season. That said these aren't ducks you witness waddling across the putting green or seagulls you see bickering over a French fry in a strip mall parking lot. For that reason alone, they are worth a share.

The two duck species above are both considered "divers," meaning they are heavily reliant on diving below the surface of the water to pursue and gather food -- most often fish. As opposed to "dabbling" ducks which tip and bob in shallow water (think mallards), the Ring-necked Duck and the Lesser Scaup are among those most comfortable in deeper, open water. Spring is our best opportunity for visits from these and similar species, as they migrate back into Canada (and beyond) to breed. These and another commonly confused Greater Scaup are great examples of the subtlety of nature. Ironically, it's the ringed bill of the "Ring-neck" that sets it most apart from the other two "bluebills." We'll get more into these specific species and divers in general as the waterfowl season approaches.

Greater Yellowlegs

If we have freshly exposed mud with intermittent puddles of skim water (e.g. "mudflats") in the marsh in spring or fall -- for example due to a managed draw down of water through pumping or a prolonged drought -- we are going to have Greater Yellowlegs. As with its shorter-billed relative of a shorter stature (the Lesser Yellowlegs), this energetic shorebird (another informal grouping like diving ducks) is a pleasure to watch.

Yellowlegs are known both for seeking food in the mud at an almost frantic pace, and their shrill call is equally recognizable. They typically probe the shallows using their long bill to catch insects and crustaceans of many makes and models, but it appears the one on the right may have stumbled into a finned friend. Call him an opportunist, I guess.

One of my recent memories of this bird ties back to the dike rehab project we did last summer. Shorebirds were making their way back to us, and I got a major kick out of watching my then 10-year-old daughter patiently chase a Yellowlegs down the newly graded dike. At over 5' tall, my daughter may have found a kindred spirit.

These Bonaparte's Gulls are another species that can congregate in huge numbers at certain times of the year on and around Lake Erie. It's not unheard of to see 100,000+ of these elegant fliers all at once in November. (Think in terms of a packed "Big House" in Ann Arbor or "Horseshoe" in Columbus . . . that's a lot of gulls!)

Spring groupings are typically considerably smaller. I peeked in on 10-15 still in their winter plumage. I loved that they were happy to loaf on old, decaying loosestrife root balls. Their dark ear spot is replaced by an all-black head by summer, so it's easy to mistake the two color phases as separate species. Either way, they are striking.