MAGGEE MARSH BOARDWALK...

You can view the web album for our trip to Maggee Marsh
HERE

In mid-May, for the first time since 2003, I went north again to a wonderful place near Sandusky, Ohio called Maggee Marsh, for some of the best birdwatching in North America. Right on Lake Erie, this area (and the surrounding Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge) is a bottleneck for warblers and other migrants heading to their breeding grounds in Canada. While some will stay and breed, many make a pit stop in the resource-lush wetland habitat to gorge on emerging caterpillars, spiders and other creepy-crawleys, before crossing the large body of water.

The weather the night before was ominous...lots of rain and strong winds (later we found out there had been tornado warnings)...and I wasn't sure setting the clock for 6:30 am was really a good idea. But watching out the back window of the camper van in the morning, the storm gradually settled down to a windy, overcast day, and off we went.

We could not have asked for a better day! The storm left the air clear, and the gusty winds kept the birds low in the trees, rather than up in the crown. We saw or heard a total of 66 species in over a day and a half. It was amazing!

The boardwalk makes birdwatching an easy hobby for bird enthusiasts, as well as photographers and those with disabilities. Capturing a warbler with a camera is no small feat...they move fast and often only stay within viewing a brief moment. We did our best...enjoy!

You can view the web album for our trip to Maggee Marsh at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/artbynaturecindy/LakeErieBirdwatching?authkey=Gv1sRgCPXVmvSNsPS44gE&feat=directlink

THE VETCH IS BACK!

All morning, before the sun snuck around to the front of the house, I pulled a certain weed from my perennial garden that just will not die! It took me over 2 hours to yank only the stems from around my other flowers, so they will receive light and whatever water is left after the deceptively delicate demon-plant has sucked it all from the soil.

The Last of the Crown Vetch at the back of the garden.

The root system below the fern-like plant is a high-strength, industrial grade woody vine. Three years ago, I sprayed a small patch of it with Round-Up, covered the stuff with 5 mil black plastic and secured it with large rocks, so it would receive neither light nor moisture. It fried and smoldered underneath through the intense heat of summer (it faces west), and froze solid in the temps of winter…and when I uncovered it the next spring…IT WAS ALIVE! Or some of it anyway, and it continues to return in that spot every year for me to pluck up. Unfortunately, the rest of the garden did not get that same aggressive treatment. So, on this Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend, while others are on picnics, playing golf, or at the annual opening of community pools, I am tiptoeing through a steeply sloped battlefield, doing hand-to-stem-combat and murmuring things like, “I hate you!” “You are of the Devil!” “Thank-you Ohio Department Of Transportation…brilliant idea!”

The pile was much bigger before I let it fry in the sun!

See, at some point in the past, ODOT thought it would be a good idea to plant crown vetch on the steep sides of highways in order to stem the tide of erosion….and for that application it was a brilliant idea because, as I mentioned, the root system could hold together a pre-fabricated bridge. But now, having learned the hard way, we know that introducing a non-native plant or animal into an ecosystem can be like opening the kingdom doors for the Trojan horse. In the end, the good gesture turns out badly.

I’m sure the previous owner of the house planted crown vetch for the aforementioned reason on the steep grade by the driveway (eventually these invasives wind up at garden centers). My vision, though, has been to annihilate it and create a garden where native plants thrive in the hot sun and dry soil for which they adapted…but if I wait too long, even just a few days, and plant things before yanking up the vetch…it becomes a hideous, overgrown, choking mess of pretty, green fronds and sweet, pink flowers!

But beauty is definitely in the eye of the informed beholder.

A FEW WILDFLOWERS AT PPW

Jack-in-the-Pulpit

Trillium

Pink Lady's Slipper

Wild Comfrey

Hoary Puccoon

Wild Geranium

Columbine and Rock Cress growing on Dolomite Rock

Bluets in the Prairie

American Columbo

Can grow up to 25 years before blooming once and dying

SPRING WILDFLOWERS AT PRAIRIE POND WOODS

Jack-in-the-Pulpit

Trillium

Pink Lady's Slipper

Wild Comfrey

Hoary Puccoon

Wild Geranium

Columbine and Rock Cress growing on Dolomite Rock

Bluets in the Prairie

American Columbo
Can grow up to 25 years before blooming once and dying

I TOOK A WALK TODAY...

...THEN PRACTICED THE ART OF SITTING IN ONE PLACE!



On the way up to my favorite ridge for morning birding, I caught a glimpse of movement high in a tree and fairly far away. Usually I don't bother when something is that far off in the distance, but I had gotten a late start, so I wasn't going to be choosy. I'm glad I looked, because I faintly made out a male and female Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Two days before she had visited the feeder, and he, just yesterday, when I snapped a few photos of the handsome and colorful dude.



Also, on the way up, I heard a Yellow-billed Cuckoo (yes we have this exotically named bird), a Red-eyed Vireo, Hooded Warblers, Ovenbirds, Wood Thrushes and a Wild Turkey. By 9:30 most of the action had ceased, but I decided that maybe I should just sit for another half-hour. Maybe with all the chatter and fluttering over, something singularly interesting might happen...and it did. Sitting on the same spongy log I perched on last year...when two fawns sauntered by and we exchanged glances...two yearlings walked by again. Did I have my camera? No. But the scene replayed itself. They stopped, looked at me (or towards me), browsed some vegetation and moved on down the well-worn path. I could have stood up, walked three steps, and petted them.



What I love about nature is its rhythms and predictability...and also the occasional unpredictable anomaly. While I'm not overly sentimental about deer (i.e., hunting them), any face to face with a wild creature does stir the heart and soul. But this encounter, while rare, is not all that strange. Like most animals, deer have certain territories and ways of getting around those territories for resources and refuge. So if I went up to the ridge every week and sat on my cushy log, odds are I would encounter the same two deer on a regular basis.



I've already been fantasizing about putting a camouflaged swivel chair up there to take in all 360 degrees of bird songs and sightings...so those deer and I may become well acquainted by the end of summer.