April 28 New Year, Slightly Older Me

It's usually the day after my birthday that actually feels like the start of something new, and since I was born after 10:00 PM, I guess it's fitting. All the writing on phenology inevitably gets me thinking about my own life cycle, and my place among human ecology. For all of human history up until the year 1900, life expectancy has been right about 30 years for an average. Like other animals, many humans died in infancy or well before adulthood, some lived to be adults, and some lived to impressive ages, like 50, 60, and beyond. It's always been a crapshoot really and still is, with the exception that today, 70 is the new 30. This means that I turned 13 yesterday, and will soon be ready to enter adulthood, whatever that means. More importantly, I feel like I better understand what it means to live through a year, thanks to this project. I understand why people feel down during long nights and cold days and why they spring to life on perfect April afternoons. As much as we have separated ourselves from nature's rhythms, they still dictate much of how we feel, think, and act. I saw this sign this morning and thought it funny to image a long line of bikes waiting for a family of superslow turtles to pass through. I also think it's good advice to slow down in general, to watch the turtle cross and take a few breaths, have a look around.  

April 27 American Elm

Running around the Lakeshore Preserve again this morning I saw and heard a lot of wood duck action, as pairs flew up and out of the Picnic Point Marsh, out over Lake Mendota, and high into the trees, squealing as they went. The lake was beautiful and plenty of green is showing on trees and shrubs in the woods now. I was walking up the prairie and after stopping to watch a robin gulp a worm down, I noticed this tree with its distinct oval fuzzy fruits (flowers that have already grown into seed pods) and a few leaves popping out of alternate buds. I thought through my trees and just didn't know what it was. I read later on and found out that this plus several other american elms (Ulmus americana) line the west side of the Biocore Prairie. Elms were the favorite street tree in America for a while during our first rapid urbanization phase at the turn of the twentieth century. When planted in a row along a boulevard, they make an excellent wall with tall, broad crowns. Unfortunatly, Dutch Elm Disease swept through the East a long time ago and very few urban elms survived. The elms in the Preserve likely are not wild, but intentionally planted after the old farms were donated to the University. I later noticed four young elms growing on University Ave in front of Grainger Hall. I hope these stay healthy and form a beautiful street wall in twenty years.

April 26 Virginia Bluebells

Mertensia virginica is a lovely spring ephemeral that I saw this morning at the Lakeshore Preserve. Earlier this month there were clumps of generic looking green leaves along woods trails in several spots in both the Arboretum and the Preserve. After several misidentifications, the purple and blue flowers have finally made this one easy to call. Many of these plants are now about 18 inches tall, with six to a dozen per cluster. Listen to this sentence from my flower guide, "the flowers are arranged in a 1-sided inflorescence that matures from the base outward (scorpioid cyme)." This means the flowers grow on one side of the twig, I think. At least the picture agrees with my translation. The indented bell shape of the flowers is extremely different from most others, and gives this plant a unique droopy appearance.

April 25 Old Cicada Shell

Tonight we went for an after dinner walk at Hoyt Park to look for new birds. Above the bluffs we found several tiny kinglets, of the ruby-crowned variety, eastern phoebes and one blue-gray gnatcatcher. Plenty of wildflowers were up in small patches and the woods are already bright green with new honeysuckle leaves in many spots. Heading down the stairs to the lower level, we caught sight of a hermit thrush on a high mound and a rabbit trying to stay hidden. While inspecting some flowers, I looked under a log and some leaves and uncovered this cicada skeleton. According to my insects field guide, there are 9 species of cicada in Wisconsin, but dogday cicadas (Tibicen canicularis) are by far the most common, and so I will make an assumption that this is one of them. These cicadas will begin life as eggs that hatch inside tree twigs. They drop to the ground and burrow under as nymphs and feed on tree roots for two years before reemerging. Dogday cicadas do not have synchronized lives, so new ones come out from the ground every year. When the nymphs emerge in July, they will walk onto the tree trunk, split their skin in half, and push itself out with a soft winged body that hardens in a few days. The adults don't even eat anything, they just make those electric buzzing noises by vibrating their tymbals (organs on the side of their abdomen). They look for a mate and then quickly die off. There are many other cicadas with a synchronized life cycle which only emerge all together, with spans of 4-17 years between. Brood XIII, the 17 year cicadas that live in southern Wisconsin, are scheduled to make their next appearance in summer 2024. A little long to wait, if you ask me. In the meantime we can enjoy the low hum of the dogday cicadas this July and August.

April 24 A Bug that Walks on Water

Can you find the insect? The common water strider (Aquarius remigis) actually moves around on the surfaces of ponds or creeks through the use of superfine hairs at the ends of its middle and hind legs. The short front legs stay up out of the water so they can snatch other small insects when they get too close. Their slender bodies are only about a half inch long at most, and this one appears to have wings, but decided not to use them to escape the shallow tub of water one of the students in my aquatics class put it in. Often times you will see small air bubbles where their legs contact the water and later in the summer you may see them in large bunches striding back and forth near the shore of the pond. These are really cool creatures.

April 23 First Tadpole!?

With a wetlands class this morning we dipped our nets into the Nature Center pond in search of creatures that are awake and active now in late April. With the recent cool down, the surface temperature of the water is actually five degrees colder than it was this time last week. Still, we found a lot of different critters, including this, our first tadpole of the spring. Judging by its size and the kinds of frogs we usually see in this pond, our best guess is that this is a bullfrog (Rana catesbeiana). At 3 to 8 inches long, the bullfrog is the largest frog in North America, and its deep call sounds like a foghorn, or sometimes a bunch of bullfrogs will make you think you are hearing a flock of geese. While this is an extremely exciting find, it turns out that this tadpole is likely a year old and spent the winter under the ice. I say this because according to my field giude, bullfrogs are the last Wisconsin frogs to breed - usually in late May and through June. This tadpole will turn into a froglet this summer, growing its legs, but will not be an adult bullfrog for another two or three years. Another surprisingly long life cycle for one of our most common aquatic creatures. 

April 22 Earth Day Visitor

Happy Earth Day everyone. After classes at the Nature Center I went out to look around and saw a head poking up out of the prairie. It was a groundhog/woodchuck/whistlepig! It stood perfectly still as I moved a little closer and saw a few different tunnels near the hole it was sitting in. Groundhogs (Marmota monax) are in the marmot family, which includes similar sized species that thrive all across North America (for example, yellow-bellied marmots are widespread in the Rocky Mountains). The name woodchuck is a misinterpretation of the name "wuchak" which is a native word meaning "digger." Ground hogs will eat tree bark but are more likely to forage on grasses and forbs, and will also eat insects and bird eggs if the opportunities arise. They are true hibernators, meaning they sleep through the entire winter, and will put on a significant amount of weight in the fall before denning down. At the Nature Center we have a stone retention wall underneath a deck which provides them with plenty of habitat for shelter, plus there are at least three different tunnel networks on the grounds, perhaps serving three different groundhog pairs.

April 21 Fuzzy Owl Babies at Dusk

The two great-horned owl chicks have been seen looking cute for about two weeks now and I finally took a fuzzy picture of them to share. They live on a big oak next to the Lakeshore Path on campus, pretty close the the bridge over Willow Creek. People started seeing mom and dad in mid-March, and these two have been alive for at least three weeks and probably at least another in the nest. Whether their nest is in the big wooden box or a serious hole in the trunk of this oak tree is still a mystery to me. What I do know is that they have been changing appearance fast - going from all white fuzz balls to having most of what look more like actual great-horned owl feathers. I have yet to see or hear rumors that they are flying, but will keep checking to hopefully see them learning.

April 20 Capitol Oaks Greening

It was a mostly blustery and rainy Monday as we listened to many speakers on the environment at the 9th Nelson Earth Day conference at Monona Terrace. A highlight was hearing Mr. Neil Degrasse-Tyson talk about science as a way to know things about the world, which was full of space jokes and kudos to the moon missions for kicking off the environmentalist movement. On the way home, we walked our bikes around the square and noticed for the first time that the oak trees around the Capitol are growing catkins and baby leaves. Our seven months of bare trees are on their way now to providing shade and shelter once again. It will mean entirely different light and space dynamics and give outdoor spots in town a brand new feeling of coziness. I'm excited, despite the cold front that has arrived, and look forward to resting under a fully leafed-out tree sometime soon.

April 19 Cherry Bee

I led a tour this afternoon at the Arboretum celebrating Earth Day and after a casual trip to the pond and wetlands, we found our way to Longenecker Gardens and soaked up the beauty of the many flowering trees. A small group of sargent cherries was electric with these pink flowers and yellow-tipped stamens. A closer look and a whiff of cherry brought us face to face with a variety of pollinators, including the good old common eastern bumbler (Bombus impatiens). Like other Bees and Wasps, only the queen of a colony will live through the winter to develop a new nest the next spring. This queen will likely nest in an old ground burrow or a cavity in wood, and will occasionally store extra regurgitated nectar in wax cups in their nests as a food security measure against bad weather. You can just make out the telltale black spot in the middle of the bee's back. Sargent cherry trees (Prunus sargentii) are non-native, imported from East Asia to be a specimen in the Arboretum's tree collection. That fact didn't appear to bother bees and beetles today, who were scrambling over the flowers to feed on their nectar. The last thing we saw on our walk was a circle of magnolias in full bloom, displaying pinks and whites and even yellow.

April 18 Twin Leaf

Flowers really are the best thing about spring, and I can't help but keep feeding you pictures of them. Jeffersonia diphylla is a rarity in the Arboretum and in southern Wisconsin, possibly because its seeds are a favorite snack for foraging rodents, who eat 95% of them according to research. This week I learned from Arboretum naturalists that twin leaf's flowers typically fall of within 48 hours of emerging. They were hardly visible yesterday, so tomorrow may be the last day for this patch of flowers. I especially like the shape of the symmetrical leaves, which remind me of lungs or a butterfly. Those veins that meet in the center could be the street network of a medieval European city. A few more twin leaf may flower in the woods over the next week or two in case you are interested in seeing them. 

April 17 Flying Mouse Surprise

As I was riding to the Nature Center on Waunona Way, I noticed a bird in my right peripheral. I turned to give it a look and noticed a peculiar flight pattern with slow wing beats. It was no bird after all, but this bat! The little creature stopped on a utility pole and I stopped to walk back and inspect. It didn't like me approaching, even slowly, so it moved about 6 feet back to this position in a pine tree. From underneath, the bat didn't mind me taking photos, and I actually came back 5 hours later to get this one in more uniform light. I'm sending this photo to one of my bat friends, but for now my best educated guess is that it is of the big brown variety (Eptesicus fuscus). Big browns are only 4-5 inches long, which means little brown bats are tiny. Both are very common in Wisconsin and both spend the winter in hibernaculums, usually in caves. All seven species of bats in our state are insectivores, feasting on so many bugs each night it'll make your head spin. A single big brown bat will eat thousands of insects in one night. Insects include mosquitoes. Therefore, our bats serve an ecological function that goes almost entirely unnoticed, unless maybe we are camping or fishing at night and happen to see bats zipping low over the water or swirling through the trees. Sadly, the fungus that causes white nose syndrome, which kills over 95% of hibernating bats, has made it to Dane County. Millions of big brown, little brown, long-eared, and indiana bats will die in the coming years due to this fungus, which researchers believe arrived in New York from Europe in 2006. I watched this bat hang from one foot and sleep the afternoon away for awhile and felt so lucky to be seeing it outside, in my town! For me, the scariest thing about bats is what might happen to insect populations if so many of them die.

April 16 Dutchman's Breeches

Dicentra cucullaria are growing in select spots in the Arobretum's native plant garden and in Gallistel and Wingra Woods. The Breeches picture here only have 5 or 6 flowers on a stalk, but some may be loaded with up to a dozen. A close up view of the flower shows two spurred outer white petals, forming the pants mentioned in its name. My flower book doesn't say, but I'm guessing that "breeches" is just older English for britches. Like other true ephemerals, dutchman's breeches will send out small fruits by the end of May and then fade back into the soils for summer. They are in the Fumitory plant family, which gets its name from the Latin word for "smoke of the earth." The flowers' leaves having a wispy, smoke-like appearance is one explanation for the family name. Another is that the juice from the plant is rumored to make people cry, just like smoke. So when you go to find them, don't stick their juices in your eye!

April 15 Norway Maple Flowers

Today I finally noticed another street tree beginning to flower. Norway maples (Atar platanoides), are one of the most commonly and widely cultivated and naturalized trees in North America. Native in Europe to western Asia, these maples were chosen for American town for their classic tree shape and dense shade, which forms a nice wall over streets. When norway maples are young, their bark has faint stripes, and then in maturity the bark can be confused with ash as each have deep, neat furrows. The best way to distinguish an ash is its gigantic twigs and buds. However, both trees are opposite-branching, two of only 6 such trees in Wisconsin that I know about. Opposite branches grow directly across from each other, like the way your arms look when you hold them out. A good way to remember the six opposite trees is the acronym HMDAVE, said like "hmmmmmmmmmdaaaave." Horsechestnut, maple, dogwood, ash, viburnum, and elderberry are the six opposite-branching trees. Also, if you realize you have a norway maple near you, it is possible to tap them for sap and make syrup, they just aren't as sugary as sugar maple trees. But, you'll have to wait until next year because syrup season is over for now.

April 14 Tree Swallow Acrobatics

I ran around the Lakeshore Preserve this morning and to my delight saw dozens of tree swallows (Tachycineta bicolor) along the entire shoreline, speeding around in circles and usually perching on the same tree for a breather between flights. Anne spotted tree swallows for the first time on March 31, so they have been around for two weeks and increasing in number. Their amazing flying abilities help them catch insects on the wing, and they prefer water where many flying insects also prefer to be. They were named as such because they nest in tree cavities, which isn't very original at all. Later in the summer tree swallows will gather into huge flocks and roost together, offering viewers the scene of hundreds of birds swirling around together at sunset. Other sightings today included several wood ducks that flew in from the lake and ducked into the corner of the Picnic Point Marsh, one robin that did not stop vocalizing for ten straight minutes, a pair of cranky geese, and the always busy redwings. I also noticed bloodroot and trout lily coming up for the first time in Bill's Woods and a few new trees have started with flowers and leaves as well. I'll keep my eyes on those. 

April 13 House Finch Antics

In 15 minutes this afternoon at Centennial Gardens on the UW campus, I saw a red-tailed hawk kill and eat a frog, a dozen flowering plants, a house sparrow chase a male cardinal off of its territory, flowering crabapples, and some wacky house finches. Two males finches (Haemorhouse mexicanus) were fluffing feathers, dancing around, and chasing two females who seemed irritated by the attention. The males' head and chest are the reddest they will be all year, and apparently brighten up in spring according to how much red pigment is in the food they eat while their feathers molt. So the female's preference for the brightest males is actually based on how well they can provide food for themselves and the coming offspring. An important consideration in all relationships, I'm sure. House Finches at one time only lived in western scrublands, deserts, and dry conifer forests. In 1940 a few were let go on Long Island and now they live in seemingly on every street in North America. So they are not technically invasive to North America, but their abundance in the east reflects the incredible landscape transformation humans have made just since 1940. The transformation continues and the house finches are happy to brighten up our gardens with their buzzing little red heads.

April 12 Magnolia

Today I went on the Arboretum's free Sunday walk as a student. The topic was effigy mounds, of which there are several in Wingra Woods, including a thunderbird and a water panther. I learned that Madison is likely to have had about 1500 hundred mounds at the time of European conquest. Created by the Woodland tribes starting around 650 A.D., scholars and Natives believe that they were built for various spiritual and traditional reasons, including connecting with tribal clan identities, speaking with spirits, and reflecting constellations. During the tour, we visited Longenecker Gardens and found a number of trees in flower. Most impressive were the few magnolias that have opened their green fuzzy buds and sent out white and pink petals of sheer beauty. Definitely worth seeing over the next few weeks as more trees get into the show.

April 11 Here We Go A-Gardening

Thanks to the community gardens at Eagle Heights, which were established in 1962 with a lot of foresight, Anne and I are going to try to grow some of our own food this year for the first time. This is what our inherited plot looks like from last year. The only things I've grown in life are a blue crystal in 8th grade science class and a beard (not until college). Fortunately Eagle Heights held a seed fair today and set us up with a variety of vegetables and flowers to try out. First though we have to commit to removing the quack grass that seems to have colonized our garden beds between fall and today. Or maybe it's crab grass? There are several native grass species in Wisconsin, none of which are growing on our plot or on our lawn. However, just behind the photograph is the Biocore Prairie, which will soon begin growing big bluestem and indian grass and hopefully others I haven't met yet. In a book on organic gardening, every month of the convenient growing calendar begins with the suggestion to "hoe weeds regularly." I get the picture that after starting seeds at the right time and keeping their thirsts quenched, the next most important part of growing vegetables is to stop fast-growing invader plants from winning the fierce battle for resources. I'm interested to find out how many of these "weeds" are plants that Americans purposely brought here from overseas versus those that have been growing in Wisconsin since 1491. I've got a lot to learn and look forward to eating that first tomato when the time comes. I know the work will be worth it (because I've eaten a few garden tomatoes before). 

April 10 Bloodroot Flowers

Sanguinaria canadensis gets its name from the red sap produced by the roots and stem. The first batches of them that I have seen are up in the Kindergarten Woods at Leopold Nature Center. Many of the clumps have a dozen flowers, give or take, and usually all the plants are produced from a single parent plant's rootstock. If you spot a single white flower with 8 petals and yellow stamens with one or two large green leaves that eventually dwarf the flower, you've spotted bloodroot. This perennial flower prefers wet woody areas and like other spring ephemerals grows quickly in spring, taking advantage of the sunlight streaming past the still-bare trees above. Once forests leaf out completely in May, bloodroot will have spread its seed, completed a year of life, and returned underground to be dormant for the rest of the year. Many more ephermals will be flowering soon to make use of the strong spring light on the forest floor while the trees continue preparations for leaf making.  

April 9 Redwing Females Here

Today at the aptly named Redwing Marsh along Lake Wingra I stopped to check out the female red-winged blackbirds that I was seeing for the first time this year. The females are a similar shape and size to the males, but their colors are completely different. They are all brown on the back with brown and white speckles in front. I watched a female eating old cattails for a few minutes and producing her own high-pitched, shrill chattering noises as she fed. Female redwings are one of the only female songbirds that sing, and according to Robert W. Nero in his classic "Redwings," they do so to claim territory from other females. And it sounds like they are no slouches when it comes to trying to impress the opposite sex. Nero writes, "the male seems to be stimulated by the appearance of the female carrying nesting material, particularly when she carries it for a greater distance and more openly than is ordinary or necessary."  Meanwhile, several males appeared to be on their territory now, and about twice per minute they hunch over, spread their red epaulets and scream out that "conk-a-ree" noise that you might be hearing all over town now. The song-spread display serves as both a warning to younger males to please stay away and an invitation to newly arrived females to please come closer. While some may complain of their numbers and noise, I'm starting to like these birds a lot. They are one of the most active and interesting species we have, fun to watch, and they remind me of old summer days fishing for catfish in Illinois. Go and see the displays at your local marsh and watch for chasing and nestbuilding to begin soon.

April 8 Green Up Under Way

I posted this view back on March 31 and today while walking around at Aldo Leopold Nature Center I noticed that the entire feel of the place has changed. Overcast skies intensified the new green plants poking out through burned prairie and grass on the trails has clearly begun photosynthesizing. Even the dead grasses and sedges looked browner and the robins more rusty against the renewed green. New birds that I've seen over the past few days are northern flickers: large white and tan woodpeckers with black spots, and eastern phoebes: dark gray head and wings with a white front, an active tail, and a big head. I saw a goldfinch today that was the brightest color I've seen since October. It has been a dreary, wet week so far but the water is making the world green again and therefore I approve the weather. Also last night was our first thunderstorm experience of the new year which I am happy about. Much more excitement to come.

April 7 Willow Caterpillar Buds

Pussy Willow (Salix discolor) buds now look like bright yellow and green caterpillars as the pollen-bearing anthers (the white stems with yellow ends) have emerged from the warm fuzz that kept them warm back in March as they grew. Unlike many plants that release pollen from catkins on the wind, willows produce a strongly scented nectar to attract bees and flies for pollinating purposes. With very few other options for nectar this early in the season, willows fill the demand for insect food while hungry insects help them to reproduce. A win win situation indeed. 

April 6 Siberian Squill

While we were away Madison a new flower appeared in the front yard right outside our apartment door. These six-petaled blue beauties are actually non-native and very good at spreading and colonizing open space. So what's bad about vibrant blue flowers growing in many places? Well, the more it spreads the more other species' habitat is taken and therefore a high potential for decreasing species diversity. Same idea as buckthorn trees conquering the forest understory. Since taking this photo I've noticed siberian squill (Scilla siberica) all over the city in yards and along bike paths, especially in edge habitats where there are openings next to woods. This little patch next to our building isn't likely to spread, but I am tempted to replace these with native harbell, hepatice, or blue phlox.

April 5 An Old Friend

The first place I heard hermit thrushes (Catharus guttatus) sing was in the Berkshire Mountains of Massachusetts. The summer I lived there I would take regular summer walks around Hallockville Pond and hear their mysterious flute music in the maples and birches. The hermit thrush sings a two part upward spiral of a trill that dissipates into the forest at the end. Today I saw this one and a few others in northern Illinois at an Izaak Walton Preserve. According to the Hopkins Law, spring travels northward at a pace of about 17 miles per day plus one day for each 100 feet of altitude gain. Madison is about 150 miles away from the spot of this photograph and 200 feet higher in elevation, so we can expect to see hermit thrushes in about 11 days. Of course, they may already be in Beloit or Janesville and I don't know it. Since they are a northwoods breeding species, only a few may stick around Madison to nest. Maybe we'll hear some singing their magic flute song in the Arboretum come summer time.

April 4 Maple Moon

The Full Moon rose tonight like a spotlight shining above the houses in my neighborhood. I went to a nearby parking lot to get a view without trees and then started taking pictures showing budding trees against it. The Ojibwe refer to the April full moon as the "Maple Sap Boiling Moon" while the Ho Chunk call it the "Fish Running Moon." In both cases it marks the start of more reliable as well as a better variety of food sources. We are looking forward to trying to grow some of our own food this year and to watching it grow over the summer. With clear skies the past several nights, it has been exciting to watch the moon swell each evening in anticipation of tonight's grand rising just before dark. I recommend watching the moonrise next month on Sunday May 3.

April 3 Suckin' Sap

Welcome the yellow-bellied sapsucker back to the upper midwest. In Illinois again today we watched and listened to birds as we continued demolition. After a break I noticed this little guy making taps to lick sap up from this maple. The darker spot is wet from sap running down and every few seconds this bird's tongue flung out to lap some up. In the picture you can make out a little of the yellow belly but on some it almost appears neon yellow. This is a male with red head and red throat - female's throats are whitish yellow. Sapsuckers have created sapwells in over 1000 different woody plant species, although they prefer maples and birches just like we do. They usually drill sapwells in horizontal rows with a row every 6 inches to a foot up the trunk of the tree.  Many insects, birds (especially hummingbirds), and mammals will come to a sapsucker tap for a sugary drink.With spring traveling northward about 17 miles a day, look for sapsuckers in Madison by the end of the week (They may have been in northern Illinois for a while already). Listen for mewing sounds, almost catlike, and these woodpeckers zooming from tree to tree.

April 2 Dark Fishing Spider

Our task this weekend was to tear down a 12x12 screenhouse in Seneca, Illinois at our family getaway. A silver maple tree in the yard has two inch flowers and grass is very green already in the prairie state. As we removed various decorations and pieces of the house, we revealed a fun variety of creatures. One was this dark fishing spider (Dolomedes tenebrosus), sitting absolutely still behind an aluminum sign, and remaining so for the next four hours. According to Larry Weber, these spiders are commonly seen far from water on cabin walls. The body length on this one was over an inch with a leg span of three inches long. These super long legs are a key identifier for fishing spiders which do usually hunt on water. Other telling marks are the four black spots on the abdomen with two angular stripes on the very bottom. When this piece of trim was the only piece of roof left, this spider finally moved on, maybe over to our shed.

April 1 Icebergs

This past week I got the feeling that Mendota and Monona are poised for breakup. This afternoon we went for a walk along Raymer's Cove in the Lakeshore Preserve and saw sheets of ice bobbing back and forth just off the Lake Mendota shore. These were still 6 inches thick and heavy enough to hold up a few humans interested in ice hopping. We noticed a river of open water snaking across the middle of the lake and lots of dark grey ice actively melting in the 70 degree sun. The lake will soon be open. We then saw our first golden-crowned kinglets of the year flitting through brush and avoiding photographs. Then at the top of Eagle Heights Woods we saw a couple of eastern comma butterflies getting sun.

March 31 Reflection

I taught a full day of birding and birds for spring break vacation today at Aldo Leopold Nature Center and walked past this view of the prairie several times. Winter has come and gone since I began this project and now the land seems poised to begin growing once again (rain would help). As I watch winter turn to spring, I am noticing that it happens in fits and starts, beginning in February, picking up some speed with the thaw, but then slowly accumulating, like two extra minutes of sunshine a day flowing into the burned prairie soil. In March we saw a week of single digit temperatures, two weeks of warm and sun, then last week was chillier. What we did not see was much rain (about a third of the average March precipitation). Green up has of late become my favorite event of the year and it feels like time is almost right for it to happen. But I believe that it too will take a few weeks to unfurl and then plants will continue to grow and flower in waves all the way through summer and into fall. Nature's pageant is truly a year round experience, with the sun giving cues and the players watching closely.

March 30 Crane Dance

Tonight I went over to the Lakeshore Nature Preserve to see the happenings at sunset and spotted two cranes near the mud flat on University Bay. I watched them walk away for a few minutes and they began a curious raising and lowering, tucking wings back then spreading them wide, and spinning in pirouettes. I realized that I was watching a sandhill crane mating display and it continued for a long time as they traveled farther and closer to me in the pool, spinning and strutting their way back and forth. This is the most beautiful thing I never saw before. I then walked around the 1918 Marsh, listening to redwings chat up a storm, and as I wrapped back around to the lakeside, a fiery sunset glowed behind a chorus of birds. I heard cranes sounding from the flat and went there to find four of them slowly moving together and trading off calls. I noticed that one in a pair makes the solid note, the other immediately bugles, and this repeats between ten and twenty times. Made me wonder if it's always a male-female synchronicity that produces the two part call. The two pairs kept wandering about until dusk and I turned for home with a chill. Spring gets more interesting each day.