"The beautiful spring came, and when nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also."
― Harriet Ann Jacobs
"The earth laughs in flowers."
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
With three days of unseasonably warm weather and barely a care in the world, I spent my long weekend exploring various haunts in Dane and Sauk Counties. The warbler list is a little short with Yellow-rumped, Pine, and Orange-crowned. The Orange-crowned is a tad early, and WSO Records indicates "Finds between 5 December and 14 April need documentation." Well, that isn't going to happen. Ours was found on the 13th, both Dottie Johnson and I got great eye-level, close-up binocular views of it.
Digression: I don't know if it's the present diminished appearance of the creek corridor or if it's trail users new to the conservancy, but there's been an unwelcome uptick in the number of pet owners allowing their dogs to be unleashed ― a longtime peeve of mine, as regular readers know. I had an odd discussion with one young man who said his was a service dog, but not only was he lying, Middleton's laws still require them to be leashed on conservancy lands. Another dog was running off-trail through the understory on the west leg of the trail. When I informed the owner of the leash ordinance, the guy tried to call his dog in, but it kept running for a while. I quipped, "That's precisely why there's an ordinance."
So, here it is (from this link):
21.01(2)(e) No person shall permit any dog, cat or other pet owned by, or under the care or control of him or her to run at large in any park, except that dogs are permitted in designated dog exercise areas. Pets shall be allowed on leash, no longer than six feet, on trails and pathways only. All pet waste must be picked up and disposed of off park property. Bags, scoops, or other appropriate implements for the removal of pet waste must be carried by any person bringing a pet onto park property.
Please keep your pet leashed if you bring it into the conservancy. And pet waste is a problem, too. Despite an abrupt warning from Dottie, I set my foot directly into a pile of fresh chuckwagon-brown dog loaf yesterday while birding at Pheasant Branch. Hence, coffee. Right? Anyway, enough of that.
My second native wildflower of spring was Bloodroot Sanguinaria canadensis, a herbaceous perennial in the poppy family that has pollen but no nectar. Some insects visit the flowers in searching in vain for nectar, while others only do so for its pollen. Bloodroot is the only species in this particular genus: sanguinaria, from sanguis ― Latin for "blood." Apparently, sanguinarine has been shown to have antimicrobial properties and may even be an effective agent for certain types of cancer. Native Americans used the plant as a dye, love charms, and medicine.
After being pollinated, Bloodroot's flowers render elongated seed pods. When ripe, the pods split open to scatter seeds, which have a fleshy organ called an elaisome that attracts ants. Once the elaisomes are eaten, worker ants haul the seeds out of the nest, thus acting as dispersal agents.
The creek corridor has already greened up more so than shown in my photographs here. With three days of sunshine, and rain today, I'm sure my next visit will be a very different experience. For now, birds are easy to observe (and photograph) given the leafless canopy. Noticing the greening woods across my courtyard right now, I suspect birders will need to rely on their avian vocalization skills come May.
On that subject, a birder recently asked me what I think of the Merlin app. For those who don't know, it's smartphone software that generates suggested species via audio detection of nearby vocalizing birds. As a song learning tool, I think it's fine, but I would not trust it for eBird data collection or life listing. I've seen reports akin to "Never saw the bird, but Merlin said it was a MacGillivray's Warbler." The purist in me who learned birdsong over the course of decades recognizes a learning-curve shortcut, but reliance is sure to render misidentification. Here's a novel suggestion: Listen for a bird, seek the bird, look at the bird, watch it sing ― learn the bird, learn to bird. Tutelage with an expert is also a great way to advance one's ability to bird by ear. Even the best experts accept themselves as perpetual students of Nature, and the corrective process when in the presense of is essential. Some people mistake this for criticism (even sexist or racist criticism), which is perhaps a sign of our ersatz and hyper-sensitive times.
Given these three days and the freedom to go anywhere, possibilities and options can seem daunting. To be sure, there's a sense that I would like to be everywhere all at once so not to miss anything. But missing things is perfectly fine, as the pursuit of Nature ought not be necessarily fatiguing or burdensome. I'm sure Splendid Tiger Beetles are active on the bluffs at Spring Green, but they can wait for another time ― perhaps even late summer instead of April. The Pheasant Branch creek corridor with my birding posse is almost always the best place to start on any given morning during April and May. Many times it's good and proper just to go to the places in your veritable backyard.
There's a Carolina Wren singing almost non-stop through the day at the creek corridor leg between Century Avenue and Park Lawn. Classic teakettle teakettle teakettle, but other times a boisterous tuh-weet tuh-weet tuh-weet or witchity-ditchity witchity-ditchity. It's nice bird to have at the conservancy and I sure hope he has a mate given his unrelenting vocal performances. I have seen fledged immature Carolina Wrens, and they're so homely they're adorable. We'll be keeping tabs on his efforts for sure.
Yellow-rumped Warblers are in town. As I mentioned, so far it's just been the three warbler species. Thus far we haven't seen huge numbers of them, but we've not yet reached the apex of their migration here in southern Wisconsin. I'm expecting many more.
This dapper male is looking quite good. A day or two here and he'll be on his way to destinations further north ― perhaps as far north as Ontario or Manitoba.
The first Yellow-rumps are always exciting ― hooray, the first warblers are back! But it doesn't take long for familiarity to breed contempt. "Hang on, what's this one? I'm on it ... oh wait ... ah, just another yella-rump. Sorry!" I don't think there are as many of these birds as there used to be, but they're still a warbler that's doing reasonably well given the state of things. As I've opined in the past ― it's the rare or uncommon that elicits the most excitement in birding circles; the species that aren't doing as well. Keep in mind that should things go poorly down the road, it's species like S. coronata that may become a stock species from which new parulidae evolve. Respect the durable and common bird.
My birding posse and I have tallied around six or seven Pine Warblers so far this spring, which is nice surprise. Again, a bird I don't see quite as often as I used to, their population is stable and in the millions of individuals. For me and my birding pals, Pine Warbler is the first flashy-yellow parulid. Their migration window in our neck-of-the-woods is only a week or so, but we occasionally come across a straggler into early May.
A female Hooded Merganser surveys a pond near the creek corridor ...
They've nested here before.
Insect-wise, I need to do more insecting this spring. Do I round-robin my time? Put more into birding? I would have expected more in the way of lepidoptera given the weather, but so far I've only come across a few Comma Polygonia c-album butterflies. I thought for sure I'd observe Mourning Cloak, Red Admiral, or Cabbage White, but this has been it so far.
I did venture to Sauk Prairie State Recreational Area to see about Oblique-lined Tiger Beetles.
Despite what appears to be monochromatic and desolate habitat, they were quite numerous this day.
Keep the little round stone on the right as a point of reference ...
Searching this way, then that way ― spindly robotic-like legs perfecting rotational scanning. To get low-angle shots like this, I'm on my belly with the end of my macro lens about six inches away from the beetle. I use one hand supported by the ground to keep my camera steady. Since it was midday, they were extremely alert and apt to make sudden escape flights. To get this close necessitates slow postural changes not unlike yoga or tai chi. One careless move, like a finger too abruptly to the shutter button, and whoosh! The beetle is gone. It's almost startling.
Back to our little pal, here ... oh, there she is.
And then mate-guarding once the deed is done ...
Here's one guarding a burrow ...
Biologically complex as anything out there, life at the tiger beetle level is simple:
- Emerge.
- Eat living things.
- Avoid being eaten by living things.
- Copulate; make more living things (like yourself).
- Sleep.
- Perish.
The Oblique-lined's maculations:
Festive Tiger Beetles were also present, but I didn't bother to photograph them. It's was a little early for Big Sand, and Ghost Tiger Beetles emerge at this location late June. Six of the sixteen Wisconsin Tiger Beetles can be found at Sauk Rec. Area, and I wouldn't at all be surprised if there were others not yet detected at this large parcel of land (3,400 acres).
So, here we are in mid-April and there has already been a myriad living things to observe and document. I can't do everything I would like to in a single season, but over the course of one's lifetime as a naturalist, knowledge and skill are honed to a comfortable state of near-perfection ― the expert and the student thrive. It's essentially for the reason and ethic as Richard Louv (and many others) have said:
"We cannot protect something we do not love, we cannot love what we do not know, and we cannot know what we do not see, or hear, or sense."
Do you see wasteland or do you see possibilities?
Defy ignorance.
Middleton Area: Dane, Wisconsin, US
April 13th -15th
79 species
Canada Goose
Wood Duck
Blue-winged Teal
Northern Shoveler
Gadwall
American Wigeon
Mallard
Green-winged Teal
Canvasback
Ring-necked Duck
Lesser Scaup
Hooded Merganser
Red-breasted Merganser
Ruddy Duck
Wild Turkey
Ring-necked Pheasant
Pied-billed Grebe
Rock Pigeon
Mourning Dove
American Coot
Sandhill Crane
Killdeer
Greater Yellowlegs
Bonaparte's Gull
Ring-billed Gull
Herring Gull
Common Loon
Double-crested Cormorant
Great Blue Heron
Turkey Vulture
Cooper's Hawk
Bald Eagle
Red-tailed Hawk
Great Horned Owl
Belted Kingfisher
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Downy Woodpecker
Hairy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
Eastern Phoebe
Blue Jay
American Crow
Black-capped Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
Tree Swallow
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Golden-crowned Kinglet
White-breasted Nuthatch
Brown Creeper
Carolina Wren
House Wren
Winter Wren
European Starling
Brown Thrasher
Eastern Bluebird
Hermit Thrush
American Robin
Cedar Waxwing
House Sparrow
House Finch
Purple Finch
American Goldfinch
Chipping Sparrow
Field Sparrow
Dark-eyed Junco
White-throated Sparrow
Savannah Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Swamp Sparrow
Eastern Towhee
Eastern Meadowlark
Red-winged Blackbird
Brown-headed Cowbird
Common Grackle
Orange-crowned Warbler
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Pine Warbler
Northern Cardinal
All images © 2023 Mike McDowell