September 2020: The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

As summer evolved to "Indian Summer" and eventually full-fledged autumn, the seasonal cycles continued to play out at Standing Rush, independent of a vastly changed outside world.

I'm struck at how many of our 2020 photos are like the one above, void of people. Site tours were put on hold for all of 2020 unless absolutely necessary, school groups did not assemble for field trips, and even contractor activities were minimized unless we were absolutely sure we could operate safely given the backdrop of an ever-changing public health crisis.

I was lucky to have averaged a trip to the marsh every month in 2020, as opposed to the 50+ times per year I averaged for the first five years of the project. I deer hunted once (for an hour), duck hunted a grand total of three evenings, and had specific need to be on-site for work no more than a handful of times -- although I came up with excuses to make it out maybe twice as much. Roy became my eyes and ears even more than before (the vast majority of 2020 photos were taken with him on the other end of the camera). I focused on strategic planning, grant administration, financing, supporting Roy . . . and keeping myself, my family, and my immediate circle healthy. 

One habit I tried to keep was taking a short walk every time I made it to the marsh.
This image was captured on the lane behind our bunkhouse. It is wild asparagus loosing its photosynthetic green for the season. Like so many things in 2020, I found myself appreciating it in a different way -- pausing to notice rather than just walking by.

One silver lining of autumn was that duck hunting could carry on amidst COVID,
a familiar ritual and a seasonal bookend for those who live to rise early and keep eyes to the sky.
As this double-limit of teal attests, things started off strong and
-- fortunately for everyone's collective and individual morale --
stayed that way throughout the 2020 waterfowl season.

Off to the blind . . . 

Turning the Page to Autumn

The ever-striking Common Gallinule is becoming that much more common at Standing Rush thanks to expansion
of desirable vegetative habitat (and all the shelter and food options that come with a diversity of native plants)

Despite significantly shorter day length and considerably more hours of darkness in the evening, (candidly) it has still been a major challenge to regain the discipline of regular journal entries. Per usual, it's not for a lack of activity in and around the marsh. [More than at any time in this project's five years, I also continue to be very busy at my desk planning for future improvement opportunities.]

These types of distinctions, while always
appreciated, are a tangible reminder
of the importance of collaboration
-- no great work happens
in a vacuum

The images above and immediately below are in recognition and appreciation of an evening well-spent this past Saturday. I was invited as a guest of the Firelands Audubon Society to its Lake Erie Wing Watch banquet in Huron, Ohio to receive its conservation award on behalf of Standing Rush. A passionate ~125 attendees filled a room surrounded by exhibitors displaying all things birds. A very talented and articulate keynote gave an incredible talk about an entire year fully devoted to birding. But as I settled in to dig into my delicious meal (including homemade elderberry pie!), it became obvious that this group extends its enthusiasm not only to their ultimate pursuits -- the birds -- but to everything it takes to support their well-being.

It was an honor, of course, to be recognized for our efforts, but even more so, it was an honor to spend some time with this group. Our paths officially crossed when a couple of their active members -- Bill and Dorthy Baker -- took a tour of Standing Rush as part of the Biggest Week in American Birding this past spring. Their friendliness, enthusiasm, active curiosity, and professionalism all contributed to their instant appeal. And now we can hopefully add another talented group to a growing list of collaborators. We look forward to the opportunity to tour them on-site soon!

With so many projects going on simultaneously, we just haven't been as diligent about taking (and sharing) wildlife images;
that doesn't mean we haven't enjoyed watching broods like these gallinules grow up before our very eyes 

Other highlights over the last few weeks include:

• Annual fish sampling in and adjacent to Standing Rush's West Marsh (once again in conjunction with BGSU's Fisheries & Aquatic Ecology lab and some scientists in-training);
• installation of an initial pipe and screw gate to provide targeted connectivity between Standing Rush and an adjacent agricultural drainage ditch (to intercept storm water runoff before it enters Sandusky Bay);
• berm rehabilitation on the interior of our West Marsh's bayfront dikes (including earthwork and seeding);
• the start of another waterfowl season: with persistent hot and humid weather, teal and early goose season opened somewhat unceremoniously the weekend before last -- there have been a few mornings of activity (coinciding with brief cool-downs) thus far; we're optimistic that the best is yet to come . . . there's a lot of duck season ahead of us. 

The fish does not have to be big to capture one's attention; here we count rigid dorsal rays of a yearling crappie
to distinguish black from white

Fish sampling once again took the form of multiple, strategically placed Fyke nets and a good amount of seining;
plans to electrofish just outside our new water conveyance to the bay were scrapped due to high winds,
but the usual late-summer suspects were still identified, tallied, and released within the marsh

The nondescript pipe at the center of this image may look pretty uninspiring, but we hope it will be the start of some
really exciting water quality improvement opportunities at and around Standing Rush

This image was taken to document the amount of debris (mostly bladderwort and cattails) caught by the debris screen
in front of our new pump in just a few short hours, but the background is a good visual of the extra protection
provided by recent berm rehabilitation efforts (lower marsh water level to left; elevated bay water level to right)

Just like the early arrival of teal, seeding dikes is starting to feel like an annual right of passage;
like so many things that Roy does quietly and without fanfare around the marsh,
his careful attention now will bear dividends later

Keep the Teal Coming!

I'd estimate this flock at ~150 bluewings; it was part of a larger assemblage of maybe ~300 that have been
congregating this week in the millet that we seeded on the East Marsh 

If you've never seen teal fly, put it on your list. To me, it is a spiritual experience. All birds are fun to watch in flight if you really watch them, but these fast fliers take it to another level. Numbers have been building modestly over the last few days. But reports from the blinds this past weekend suggest we had enough to keep hunters alert and happy . . .

"I don't know if I can remember the last time we shot 14 teal in one morning from one blind."

"The teal were tons of fun, but I don't know if I've ever seen that many big ducks getting up from the Rest Pond at the same time." (A quote from a long-time lease holder just after opening morning)

We're a little anxious of cool-cold overnight lows forecast for the end of the week. While the Gulf Coast endorses a steady press from historic hurricanes, we have had incredible weather. Roy calls 75 degrees for a high and 55 for a low ideal -- especially if it is sustained. We have been hitting that about perfectly, but they are hinting at upper 40s for the weekend. Call them fare-weather, but historically, if the mercury dips below 50 degrees Fahrenheit, teal head south. We'll see . . .

These birds didn't know if they wanted to stay or go; fortunately for them, Roy was holding an I-phone and not a 12-gauge

I liked this crop because it literally gets my adrenaline pumping; so much fun to see them flying low over the marsh