Grand Canyon National Park 2013

It’s been over 30 years since I visited Grand Canyon with my family. I probably should have come sooner because it sure is different than I remember. I have to say that it is as busy as any natural place I have ever visited. It has traffic, congestion, and mobs of tourists with Americans being a huge minority. I have met people whether I wanted to or not from France, Germany, Italy, Scotland, China, Japan, and even New Jersey.

I am amazed at how well orchestrated the chaos is handled by the National Park Service and contract services. I am confident that GCNP is one of the elite funded National attractions and I suppose it should be.

There is so much emphasis on the Canyon and the geology that it is the only National Park that neither the National Park nor the Grand Canyon National Park Association publishes a bird checklist. It seems odd to me that the communities of flora and fauna created by this geologic marvel would not attain a much prominent interpretation than it gets.

With that said, it is absolutely breathtaking in every regard. It may be the biggest point of interest on the planet. It is incomprehensible for humble humans to appreciate. It is beautiful, in every way. It changes with the light of the day and it is mesmerizing.

It is really big, it is really deep, and people cannot help but marvel.

Then again the Canyon being the magnet as it is also creates opportunities to avoid the mobs, get where it is quiet and there is plenty of natural history and birding to explore along the rims and into the canyon itself.

As I write I have had Chipping Sparrows, Pygmy Nuthatches, Western Bluebirds, Common Ravens Abert’s Squirrels, Cliff Chipmunks, Black-throated Gray Warblers, and yes yet another herd of Elk visit my campsite.

This morning I walked Hermit Road which is open only to Park shuttle buses  and away from a popular Rim Trail. I saw Williamson’s Sapsucker, Mountain Chickadees, Rock Wrens, Northern Flickers, Juniper Titmice, Pygmy and White-breasted Nuthatches, Western Tanagers, Black-headed Grosbeaks Plumbeous Vireo, White-throated Swifts, Western Bluebirds, and Western Scrub Jays.

Yesterday I walked about a mile of the Bright Angel Trail into the Canyon for a different perspective. It is an easy walk down and a killer trek back up….literally! I walked the easy part. As I was about to turn around because the habitat was pretty much the same farther down I looked up and across the massive canyon and not far from me and at eye level were two soaring California Condors. It was a rare life bird for me and an experience I will never forget.

I have looked for Condors since their reintroduction in California and other places with no success. To see them in the back-drop of the beautiful Grand Canyon was well worth the wait. I got great looks and I got pretty good pictures of them in flight. After they finally disappeared over the Rim of the canyon I did a little ridiculous dance. Don’t tell anybody.

I kept looking for them as I huffed and puffed my way back UP the trail. I never saw them soaring but I discovered them resting on the very edge of the canyon rim. More very distant pictures ensued as did the jubilation.

A footnote to this part of my adventure comes from one small interpretive sign just yards from the Condor perch. It interprets an inconspicuous hole in the ground and some mining equipment artifacts below the rim. It is a now abandoned uranium mine from the 1950’s. It was a desperate but significant necessity of the cold war.

The significance of this obscure exhibit is that we all need to be reminded that all our natural treasures are at risk when our country’s economic, political, and national security interests over shadow saving Condors from extinction. There are fences around the site to protect visitors. The site is still accessible by wildlife and Condors and it is still after clean up toxic. National treasures are and will always remain under siege and only you and I can prevent the loss of these magical places.

When you visit the big places remember that the little things are perhaps the most interesting and the salient part of any visit is what you take away from the experience provided. Make it more than the ride on a tour bus

Rocky Mountain National Park; The Spine of the Colorado Rockies; and McPhee Recreation AreaRocky Mountain national Park; The Spine of the Colorado Rockies; and McPhee Recreation AreaRocky Mountain National Park; The Spine of the Colorado Rockies; and McPhee Recreation Area

This trip is planned around my attendance to an annual Summit of the Association of Nature Center Administrators (ANCA) in Huntington Beach, California. Although I am retired I still enjoy catching up on the nature center field and spending time with great professionals and people.

With that said, late August isn’t the best time to see many birds since most breeders are done and the adults and young birds are dispersed. Singing has ceased for the most part and birds are often elusive in the heat of the late summer.

Birding in Iowa and the plains was really pretty slow. The same could be said for the Rocky Mountains. But post breeding dispersal provides more opportunities to find the birds that have left their nesting habitat.

Make no mistake, the grandeur of the Rockies is unparalleled. Rocky Mountain National Park is the signature of the Rocky Mountain State, Colorado. The east face of this park is better than the west face simply because the natural diversity is greater. I stayed in Moraine Campground on the east side.

Again the birding was disturbingly quiet. Then I ran into a flock of mixed species and I realized that most of what I had hoped to see was there, but I just had to find the flocks. These flocks were made up of representatives of various habitats. I had Yellow, McGillivray’s , Townsend’s, Wilson’s, and Yellow-rumped Warblers, Cordilleran Flycatcher, Western Tanager, Mountain Chickadees, and Stellar’s Jays, sometimes in a single flock.

I looked for two species that are togh to find. The first was Northern Three-toed Woodpecker. I found it in an area known for breeding in Quaking Aspens.

The second was White-tailed Ptarmigan, a bird of the tundra above tree line. I tried several places above 10,000 feet with no luck. I finally went to a trail on Medicine Bow Curve  where they are known to breed. I had no luck and was not surprised. This is a bird I have seen only once and searched for many times and places.

The next day I tried again. No luck with the bird but I and a research student studying the Ptarmigans  got run off the trail by an approaching high elevation thunder storm. She was tracking two broods of Ptarmigans with broods that were moving and feeding up and down the slopes.

The storm broke and the sun shined as if it had never happened. I went along the trail again. But there were no Ptarmigans. So I slowly worked my way back to the parking area and I saw some movement in the very short tundra grass. It was a WT Ptarmigan chick! Then there was 2 and then 4 and eventually I counted 6 chicks with a very disciplinary hen. I was elated!

On this same trail I also saw a patrolling Northern Goshawk trailed by a Prairie Falcon. The Ptarmigan is difficult to find because it is difficult to survive in a harsh and hostile environment where predators are a real threat especially to innocent and inexperienced chicks. A bonus was a Brown-capped Rosy-finch, the only one I saw in all the Tundra.

From RMNP I traveled the spine of the Rockies more or less along the Continental Divide where the birding was more of the same as RMNP without the specialties. I moved on to McPhee Recreation Area in SW Colorado not far from Mesa Verde National Park.

I picked McPhee by default on line because my choices were already booked. I t is in the Middle of Nowhere and the scrubby arid landscape wasn’t all that inviting. However, what do I know? IT was the BIRDIEST PLACE I HAVE BEEN TO since May at Magee Marsh.

I did some pishing in the Pinyon Pine/ Juniper in the evening and I had about a dozen Black-throated Gray Warblers, Virginia’s Warbler, Grace’s Warbler, Yellow Warbler, Black-headed Grosbeak, Rufous Hummingbird, Gray and Plumbeous Vireos, Gray Flycatcher, Spotted Towhee, and Western Wood Peewees to mention in the juniper and pine.

I also visited Mesa Verde National Park where the birds were similar as was the habitat. It was a very interesting place with a rich Native American Pueblo theme. The structures that adorn the cliffs are incredible. I intend to go back to satisfy my interest in archeology.

The highlight of my stay in SW Colorado was being serenaded by a surprising Ferruginous Pygmy-owl at my campsite. This is a tropical owl that I know well from my time in Central and South America. I played the vocalizations of other “tooters” that are known in this habitat and it wasn’t Northern Pygmy-owl, or Saw-whet Owl.

I am writing from Grand Canyon National Park and I have some exciting experiences to share and I’ll start sharing the wonderful things that looking for birds can produce in exploring little or well known places in the middle of nowhere.

West Farmington to California Road Birding Trip 2013: Going West

With all the best intentions, blogging every day along the way just isn’t practical. So I will bring the trip up to date and then report as internet service and time permits.

It is a long way from home in Ohio to California. I am writing from Grand Canyon National Park in Northern Arizona and 2,500 miles from home. I still have a lot of ground to cover! I traveled 12 hours and stopped in Iowa at Prairie Rose State Park for camping and some Eastern birding to set the pace for the rest of the trip.

Prairie Rose is a recreation area that has enhanced habitat: a peaceful place with trees, a lake, and habitats attractive to wildlife and birds. It hints of what Iowa might have been before it became a sea of corn and cash crops.

My next stop was southwestern Nebraska along the Platte River where I visited The Audubon Center at Rowe Sanctuary world famous for the 80,000 Sandhill Cranes congregate each year. I saw none. It is a great stop in any regard and the staff was friendly and helpful.

I spent the night at Red Willow State Recreation Area but the birds and the landscape remained much like Iowa: lots of agriculture.

But the terrain began to roll and the corn began to diminish and the hills were becoming short grass and pasture. Western Nebraska is very different from the eastern and central cultivation.

The third night I stayed in Crow Valley Recreation Area in the middle of Pawnee National Grasslands in northeastern Colorado. At last the prairie! Now I am hearing Western Meadowlarks. I found a Bullock’ Oriole in a stand of willows. Here I watched a Northern Mockingbird successfully harass a Swainson’s Hawk in flight. Loggerhead Shrikes appeared on telephone wires……..yes those antiquated wires of days gone by. I doubt I will ever see a bird quietly perched on cellular waves or underground cables.

The evening was filled with a thunderstorm, passing close by, that performed a spectacular lightning show and moved on its way to reveal a spectacular star show, including a meteor shower. But the best of this evening was an evening sky filled with Common Nighthawks buzzing the tree tops of the campground. Then, as the night stars glimmered, a Great Horned Owl perched near hooted into the stillness on the prairie.

My western journey was now a reality. Pawnee National Grasslands is a great host into a great adventure to places well known and some others in the middle of nowhere.

Signs of Change and Time to Explore: A Road Trip

I drink my morning coffee out of a thermos. Almost every morning I start my day in my yard with binoculars and coffee, casually looking and listening for all the birds on and around the farm. The world seems to be in order to start the day with the chirping of Purple Martins, the rattle of the Eastern Meadowlark, the bubbly Bobolink song, and the trill of the Savannah Sparrow.

This morning I started my routine as usual, and time is marching on. We are having an unusual cold snap for July and the air is cool, crisp and hinting that fall is approaching somewhere in the not-too-distant future. The pastures are harvested or cut. There is not a sign of any Red-winged Blackbirds, Meadowlarks, or Bobolinks. The chorus is changing. The 2013 crop of nestlings are fledged and the birds are moving. The new pasture growth is rejuvenating, but for all practical purposes summer is closing.

I have been thinking about and planning a trip to California for nearly a year. I envisioned a road trip of camping and exploring the American heartland and west, taking a northerly route to Huntington Beach California and a southerly return through the southwest. I have mapped out my route including birding in Southern California for about a week.  I will travel some 6,000 miles in about 7 weeks. Each and every day will begin with binoculars and coffee, and I will be exploring some of the most wonderful real estate on the planet each day, until my head hits the pillow.

This is but another of many natural history road trip of various lengths and destinations, but by far the longest and farthest so far. I am compelled to do this by my passion for nature, birds, wildlife, and especially wild places. This wander lust, although probably wired within from birth, was encouraged by several catalysts early in my life. There is one that fueled my interest in travel and exploring.

While studying Natural Resources at OSU, I attended a program at the Mershon Auditorium on The Ohio State University campus that was part of a “travel-log” series. It was, I remember, a speaker narration synchronized beautifully to wonderful film. It was a program series that documented the slapstick adventures of two brothers that traveled around the Rocky Mountains in an old flatbed truck with a cabin built on the bed of the truck. This series covered the Rocky Mountains from Mexico to Alaska. I can’t remember the names of the presenters, nor the program titles. It was, as I recollect more entertaining than it was educational but it was a visual experience that resonated and sparked something in my heart that strengthened my resolve for adventure.   

It seems to me that many people have interests and activities they pursue to escape reality. I bird watch, study nature, and seek outdoor adventures to immerse myself in reality. Seven weeks of exploring will have some challenges but it will yield incomparable and memorable experiences that can be found no other way.

My trusty 2002 Toyota Tacoma is tuned and primed for the journey……and I might add, my expert mechanic is Jim Berry, who is the greatest naturalist I have ever known. I am mostly packed. I have checklists of all the stuff I will need for a long journey. I am still working out a system to blog about my experiences and share the discoveries with those that have an interest.

I will depart August 8, 2013 for the Nebraska and eastern Colorado prairies like Pawnee National Grasslands, Rocky Mountain National Park, along the Continental Divide and then east to Monte Verde National Park, Grand Canyon National Park, Las Vegas, and Joshua Tree National Park. Finally I will arrive for dinner on August 24^th with my nature center colleagues at the Association of Nature Center Administrators annual Summit at the Environmental Nature Center in Huntington Beach. After about 6 days in Southern California I will be heading once again east for great birding in SE Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and probably Oklahoma before heading home.

This morning’s walk on the farm was telling me that regardless of the weather, the fall migration in August and September is eminent and my timing for a road trip is likely to be more productive than I had envisioned.

Stay tuned for stories and pictures from the field afar. Visit Where The Middle of Nowhere Is Somewhere beginning in August and follow my adventures until I return to the Farm in Ohio.

Life on the Farm with Louie, Boogie, and Purple Martins

It’s a rainy day. I planned to use today to mend fences on our one enclosed pasture. But had no choice but to spend the morning on our enclosed porch, drinking coffee, and watching whatever birds braving the damp elements. I often see or hear some forty species of birds on a summer day on this Trumbull County farm. Watching birds always makes a damp day a little brighter.

Our house is Amish built and once Amish owned but now converted to modern utilities or to “English” as the Amish might say. With the property we inherited two very active Purple Martin houses just off the front porch. The Amish appreciate the Martin’s insatiable diet for pesky insects and especially mosquitoes. Summer days are full of Martin chatter, acrobatic flights and plenty of social interactions within the colony.

The Purple Martins have fledged several young birds and still in the process. This morning I noticed a young Purple Martin on the ground in the vicinity of the feeders. Martins are pretty much aerial creatures but like to perch on wires, sometimes trees, and occasionally on bushes. They do not land on the ground and if so aren’t there but for a few seconds.

The fledgling Martin is in trouble, or at least very vulnerable to predators. The young bird cannot yet fly. It won’t be long…..but it is an eternity when there is danger all around. The problem is compounded by rain soaked wings and body. A safer place to be would be in a tree with some cover from the rain and off the ground.

Being the human that I am, I began to think about ways I might help this poor helpless fledgling bird from the many hazards of the farm. I could go out there, fetch the bird and place it up in a tee. I could stand guard until the bird is ready to fly. So I did none of that, but watched, took pictures and thought about what the hazards might be and a little more about the best course of action.

I watched, no less than, a dozen Purple Martins over the course of a couple of hours tend, in their own way to the protection of the single bird. They would fly around and over very close to the fledgling. At first it seemed only a presence. Then I realized they were coaxing the fledgling closer to bushes by the porch where the bird was out in the open expanses of the yard.

I saw two immediate threats that I could control. The first and greatest is our barn cat Boogie. The second threat, although I am not so sure how serious, is our rescue Pit Bull, Louie. So I retrieved Boogie and put him in the house where he spends most of his time when not patrolling the barn for rodents. I locked Louie on the porch with me where he mostly sleeps, snores, and probably contemplates life, like I do.

While I was pondering and observing, I heard the familiar call of our resident Red-shouldered Hawks. It caused me to recollect that last year I witnessed the hawks fetch two Martins. In spite of several attacking Martins, I saw martins in the hawk’s talons as they made off for a meal. I assumed that they were fledgling martins, probably on the ground just like this bird…unable to escape the opportunistic Red-shouldered Hawk. It is important to note that this species of hawk is not a bird eater. While it eats mice and snakes it is not equipped to catch the normally too quick and fleeting birds.

The Purple Martins were prepared to dive bomb the cat and thwarting the would-be predator, I surmised. They would have done the same to Louie, although I doubt that Louie would pay attention to either the fledgling or the attack of the Martins. But the Martins ultimately were most concerned about the Red-shouldered Hawk, who demonstrated that it would surely take advantage of the situation.

By waiting and watching I was reminded of my firm belief that intervention in nature is usually not a wise or effective course of action. I spent more than 20 years administering and engaging in wildlife rehabilitation and I learned very early on, that taking nature’s course was an important element to the balance of nature. I sometimes results in outcomes we do not prefer but the odds of the outcome being positively resolved is far greater without intervention. I have learned to trust the system and to control my humanitarian inclinations.

I can’t control nature but I can control the hazards I have introduced into nature. So Louie and Boogie were deprived of acting badly, and the fledgling Martin left to its own devices and the appropriate support built into the life-history of the Purple Martin.

I got a little smarter on a rainy morning. I saw another example of how much more complex nature really is than is generally acknowledged. We are better served to control what we do, than to try to control nature. I still remove turtles, snake, and frogs from busy highways but I will contemplate that another time, perhaps, on a nicer day when I am repairing pasture fences.

The Amiable American Toad

I started out the mud room door the other morning, and sitting quite where I was ready to step, was an American Toad. So I gently reached down and picked up the large amphibian and relocated it in the grass off the porch. I felt good about having that big old toad around. I like toads and I’m not sure exactly why.

So a few days later, I decided to organize my wood pile on the porch and split a little kindling for those cool evening fires we will occasional raise this summer. As I worked, I looked down and there was that toad just sitting there apparently unconcerned about being exposed or threatened by my presence. It wasn’t going anywhere. It just sat there.

Well, I couldn’t help but admire this fearless amphibian. It’s hard not to like a wild thing so cool, calm, and collected. Then I began to feel a little silly because I really don’t know as much about toads as I should….or at least enough to admire them so. And when one is quilted into stupidity it was time to do a little research. That’s what wild things can do.

Toads and frogs are related but they aren’t the same. There are a whole lot of anatomical differences, but the best description works great for me: frogs leap and toads hop. This is a brilliant and accurate description, requiring no PhD. It is truly fitting that the unconcerned toad would hop away and not “leap to safety” like its more skittish relatives.

It’s hard to imagine that toads are considered by some to be repulsive and, in a less enlightened time, associated with sorcery and who knows what else. I guess it must be the “warts” on their back and the fact that they “pee” on you when you pick them up. These observations evolved into the myth that toads can give people warts. Many a responsible parent has exposed their wisdom, or lack- there-of, when they told their children not to pick them up for the potential to end up with warts. I guess it is better to speak with conviction, than it is to actually know what you are talking about.

The warts on the bumps of toad’s backs and “peeing” when handled are part of the toad’s survival strategy. The bumps are glands that produce a liquid that can burn sensitive mouth tissues of other animals. Most animals will quickly drop the toad because of the irritation and will cause hesitation to make the same mistake of trying to eat the inviting toad the next encounter. The same toxin is usually expelled through the cloaca when the toad is picked up. So while it would irritate the mouth of a person, the toxin is harmless to humans. Wouldn’t it be better to encourage generations of children not to “eat” toads rather than that other thing?

Like frogs, toads gather in shallow pools in the spring, where each female lays about 12,000 eggs that hatch into jet-black tadpoles that become tiny toads in June. Toads like moist areas where they absorb water through their skin because they don’t drink water. They are found in such places almost everywhere, urban and rural. If you mulch your beds, you are inviting toads. And you want toads around because they eat a lot of insects, slugs, earthworms, sow bugs, and larvae. One report estimates that the average toad eats about 10,000 insects during the three months of the summer.

I learned a lot about toads that I should have already known. It does not, however, explain why I never met a toad I didn’t like. Thankfully there are things in nature that one can love and respect without knowing all the facts: like hearing a flying hummingbird and not having to see it to bring a smile on your face or finding a toad in the woodpile. I just like the amiable American Toad and a myriad of life in “nowhere”, large and small.

Something Wonderful This Way Comes

Nature study is about learning about natural communities. Bird watching is an avocation that provides a window into natural communities. If you have followed my blog you should know that the Middle of Nowhere is somewhere where interesting, captivating, enlightening and often fascinating things are revealed.

I travel far from home to surround myself with wildlife that has long departed most of the more developed places in Ohio and the Great Lakes region. I often wonder what Ohio must have been like decades before I arrived on the scene. My travels gives me insight into what once was, and still thrives in wilder North American places.

Yesterday was like almost every day. I started a route I often take through Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area some 10 miles from home. I stopped to listen for birds along the way. Without hearing much, I watched a Meadow Vole scurry across the road in front of me. I thought to myself that it is fortunate to see one of the refuge's smallest mammals.

I continued to another location a few hundred yards down the road to a place I know Prothonotary Warblers nest. I got out of my truck and strolled casually along the road. There was a lot of activity. A Baltimore Oriole was calling and a Warbling Vireo competing. The Prothonotary Warblers sang too. A Pileated Woodpecker flew along the side of the road and wood ducks announced their flight with a familiar drawn out "wheep". Three Wild Turkeys crossed the road ahead and I thought I should move further along to try for a singing Cerulean Warbler.

I was thinking about how the sky, the habitats, the sounds and sights reminded me of many other wild places I have visited. As I walked casually toward my truck I looked down the road flanked by wet, I looked toward the wooded forest to where I would next stop. I was astonished to see an American Black Bear walking slowly and casually across the road about 300 yards away. I was so shocked I forgot to use my binoculars.

As if in slow motion the Bear traversed the span of the road and disappeared into the forest. I said to myself.........and to the whole forest....."I can't believe I just saw a bear in Mosquito Creek!"

After gathering my emotions I realized maybe I could get down to the spot where the bear might be. I jumped in my truck and went to a place close to where the bear entered the forest. I quietly exited the truck and began walking and listening with hopes of just one more glimpse.

I saw nothing. But out from the forest came a nearby, and distinct "crack!". It was a branch breaking that could only resonate from the weight or strength of something formidable. It was the bear I could not see but moving away from my intrusion. Although disappointed, the breaking branch was a fitting conclusion to the encounter. The bear wanted nothing to do with me and was perfectly content to continue on his way through his forest.

Bears are no strangers to Ohio and the Ohio Division of Wildlife keeps "credible bear sighting" records hoping to keep tabs on their movement in the state. Bears come to Ohio's eastern counties from West Virginia and this case Pennsylvania. I am pretty certain this bear was a male as he was perhaps trimmer than a female. This particular bear is of interest because most sightings are in May. A June 5th sighting isn't too far from normal but there is a possibility this may be more than a wandering visitor so the Ohio Division of Wildlife experts will hope to get more reports so they can piece the situation together.
This was an awesome sighting and punctuates the purpose of getting "out there" and exploring the natural world. After spending a lifetime exploring Ohio I was rewarded with a rare and beautiful sighting of an American Black Bear.

Reflecting on the whole incident gives me hope. I have always felt starved for the adventure of co-existing among those creatures that are often feared but grossly misunderstood. Bears rightfully deserve our utmost respect and, in my opinion, our greatest admiration. I strongly believe that the Middle of Nowhere belongs to wild things. That bears are rare here, is probably good for them and us. Where bears frequent the human community, it often results unfavorably, usually for the bears.

Once that bear walked into the woods and no matter how rare that may be, my belief that the Middle of Nowhere is often in our own back yards is confirmed. The Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area is a diverse community of wild things as small as a Meadow Vole and as large as a Black Bear. That it revealed its secrets through the bear is simply awesome!!

The Middle of Nowhwere, Somewhere in Trumbull County, Ohio

This is a story about a monumental movement to save special and precious places that most everyone would not even consider. I was invited (or maybe I invited myself????) to join Dave Hochadel on a visit to a place that is now conserved by the Cleveland Museum of Natural History (CMNH). This place is is very close to where I live.

Dave Hochadel is someone I met birding in Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area last year. I already knew of him but he had no idea who I was. Dave has been on the Ohio Bird Record Committee and was most recently the Ohio Breeding Bird Atlas Coordinator for Trumbull County. I am beginning to appreciate this man that practices citizen Science.

Dave is a very intelligent man with a wide range of interests including playing good old Rock and Roll. I haven't yet heard his music but if it is anything like his field studies it will be darned good music. Dave has studied some science but worked a long career with the U.S. Postal Service. He has built a great natural history knowledge base from field experience and studying breeding birds.

This piece of property of about 290 acres has long been privately owned and was a piece of land that fit into a matrix of habitats in Northern Trumbull County that are unique to the County and scarce in all of Ohio. It's natural value is in the unique boggy wetlands that inhabit this property. These boggy areas harbor unique flora and fauna that often contain plants and animals that are rare and often endangered. It is a remnant of Ohio's glaciated past but it is a small parcel that if presreved would reduce Ohio's declining natural heritage and over-all natural diversity.

Dave is a volunteer for the CMNH and is continuing the process of documenting and organizing the parcel's natural characteristics that will be archived by the Museum. Cataloging and documenting nature in any area using scientific parameters is no simple task. It requires hard work, discipline, and structure as well as a broad knowledge of plants and animals and topographic and geographic influences. In short volunteers just have to endure, heat, cold, wind, rain, mosquitoes, ticks, mud, swamps, and sometimes rookies like me.....for ths sake of science.

So I documented a few things of interest in our couple of hours in the field. There were many Wood Frogs. This is an amphibian that is a signature of northerly habitats. Common Whitetail Dragonflies often inhabit swampy areas within woodlands. We were looking generally at the areas birds and looking specifically for reported nesting Northern Waterthrushes which we did not find on this trip.

The serendipitous discovery of the day was a Veery nest. This is a nest that is built on the ground, usually at the base of a small bush. They are nearly impossible to spot (no surprise there!). But because the survey of the property is devoid of trails, the process is a bit like bush whacking. As we made our way to the major bog, Dave flushed a Veery from the ground very near his feet. And sure enough there was a little, well constructed nest with 3 blue eggs inside. Dave went back the next day hoping that the nest would have a fourth egg and it surely did. So we didn't disturb the egg laying process with our disturbance. His comment was "fortunately none of the eggs were Cowbirds". Cowbirds are a common parasite of songbird nests that lay one big egg in a cluster of the hosts. As the babies hatch the bigger cowbird baby gets all the food and the host babies perish.

Dave later showed me territory surveys he had documented of Prothonotary Warblers nesting over several years at Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area. Tromping through the muck several times a year for several consecutive years is no picnic. He is a better man than I! But the information gleaned from field studies like Dave's is our baseline information on the present state of a habitat or natural area. Continued scientific assessments document change and eventually insight into the health of a given area.

One has to stop and reflect on the effort of conservancies like the CMNH, to land owners that want save their property for posterity, for committed volunteers like Dave Hochadel, and processes that allow all of us to win in the end.

As Director of the Lake Erie Nature & Science Center I was always quick to point out that natural history education is only as sound as the science behind it. Now that I've walked with Dave in a swampy woods in my neighborhood I have even a better appreciation of conservation. I tip my hat to CMNH, to citizen science, and to conservationists for preserving  a little Middle of Nowhere right in our own back yards.

THE BIGGEST WEEK IN AMERICAN BIRDING: A PERSONAL PERSPECTIVE

THE BIGGEST WEEK IN AMERICAN BIRDING is a unique phenomenon. It may be the largest congregation of birders and migrant North American birds on the planet. An estimated 75,000 birders come to northwest Ohio from May 3^rd through May 10^th to marvel at the extraordinary passing of migrant bird species navigating along the Lake Erie south shore. The birds are coming from the Southern U.S., Central, and South America, destined for breeding areas across the North American Continent.

The bird watchers come from all over America and in fact from all over the world. America’s passion for seeing birds, especially our American wood warblers, is as compelling as the bird’s need to get on with the business of breeding and propagating their species. This fact alone allows the two congregations to co-exist for a few hours for a few days. Yet the pressure is the greatest in a 4 ½ acre board-walk trail that is strategically, right smack in the middle of the greatest concentration of birds.

This explosion of humanity upon such a place is certainly a point of concern. It seems to be, in my opinion, a greater concern for the people than it is for the birds. For the most part the birds are unanimously focused on survival, not the crowds. Thankfully most of the masses of people are gratefully respectful of the birds and their needs, and there for, the bottom line is that the Biggest Week In American Birding seems to be a balance between the desire to view and the desire to survive.

The Black Swamp Bird Observatory (BSBO), Magee Marsh Wildlife Area, Maumee Bay State Park, and Ottawa National Wildlife Area are the primary birding areas and partners.  BSBO has also partnered with private land owners, area Conservancies, State Wildlife Areas other local agencies for access to additional birding locations that maximize the opportunities for participants of The Biggest Week programs and to provide field trips that takes pressure off the Magee March Bird Trail.

After volunteering for the 4^th year I have gone from skeptical to pleasantly appreciative of the concept and with the execution of The Biggest Week In American Birding. Like it or not, the masses were bound to come and the BSBO plan was a great proactive step toward what could have become utter chaos. I tip my hat to BSBO, all the partners, and Kenn and  Kim Kaufman for making this huge project a success…..for participants and for these wild birds we all want to protect in their incredible journey.

I have done little but birding for the last four weeks. I spent a week in Shawnee State Forest in Southern Ohio birding the newly arriving southern warblers and songbirds. Tim Colborn and I took a side trip to Boone National Forest and the Red River Gorge to see Swainson’s Warbler in the most northern part of this bird’s breeding range. From there I spent time as a volunteer Guide for The Biggest Week In American Birding.  And in my spare time I birded on my own. I have 209 species of birds for the month of May.

I love guiding because I like people, and I like groups of birders. I love the chemistry between really interested people and really beautiful birds. There is no other experience that evokes an uncontrollable and genuine “wow” than those from people looking at birds from behind binoculars or a spotting scope.

I have been teaching birders for a long time. I have been preaching conservation for my whole career, and I love connecting people who like to look at birds with the opportunity bird watching provides for discovering natural history.  Understanding natural history enriches the experience, and nurtures a conservation ethic and commitment.

I led 10 birding trips and one Woodcock walk in 12 days. I guided about 140 participants over all. It was invigorating and fun. The birding was great and the participants were all up to the challenges of finding, seeing and identifying lots of birds. They asked great questions, they pushed their personal limits for the birding experience and they made me proud and humble.

You see, guiding makes me a better birder and birding participants make me a better guide. Thanks to everyone who traveled with me and made our trips fun and productive.

I especially want to thank Laura and Jim Wantz from Laguna Beach, California and David Marshall & Christine Booth from Oxford, United Kingdom for including me in their quest to enjoy the North American bird migration this year. It’s people like you that make all the long hours and hard work of guiding worthwhile. Birding with you was all smiles that still keep coming. I think we may have created the ultimate international dream birding team!

I also have to thank all the participants of the last “BIG DAY BUS TRIP” of The Biggest Week In American Birding. I challenged the 14 participants to see if we could get 100 species of birds for the day. They took the challenge…..every one of them. We got a slow start. But after we got going, the birding picked up. We finally got to 98 species and the group was excited. We cheered when we got to 100 species. Then we were at 108 and the cry went out for 110. When we got to 112 the crazed group demanded 120! We finished the day with 124 species!!!

I never saw 14 strangers, a leader and a bus driver get unified in such a wonderful way. We worked hard, we worked together, and we learned together. We had lots of educational moments, lots of fun (often at the guide’s expense!), lots of laughs, and at the end of the day, it exemplifies what a great idea THE BIGGEST WEEK IN AMERICAN BIRDING really is.

Birders are great people…just give them a good reason to prove it.  Conservation of birds and all wild things and places should be and MUST BE our priority and our legacy. The Middle of Nowhere Is Somewhere worth saving.

TIMBER DOODLE: Ghost in the Forest

The American Woodcock is an interesting but odd character as birds go. It is well known for its elaborate nuptial flights at dusk and dawn; perhaps the most well known courtship in ornithology.

To start off with, the “Timber Doodle” as it is commonly known is a weird name for a bird or anything else for that matter. I can’t track the origin of this name but I suppose it addresses the probing of the humus forest floor with its long beak. The “timber” part makes sense since it lives in the forest. But “doodle” sounds a bit lazy and less flattering than it is descriptive.

It is a softball-sized, rotund bird with a beak nearly as long as its body. The tip of the bill can be flexed open to capture worms and other creatures living in the forest debris. It appears to not have a neck or a tail and very short legs. It has been described as looking like "a meatloaf on a stick". That description is not just "wrong" but "politically incorrect".

The Woodcock is the only forest dwelling shorebird. In fact it is never seen on a shore. It is a nocturnal bird that is almost impossible to see on the forest floor. When approached it freezes and looks more like leaf litter than an animal but that doesn’t matter because you can’t see it anyway.

Honestly, the best way to find a Woodcock any time is by flushing one. To flush one you almost have to literally step on it. And when you do flush one you are so startled that you don’t really see anything but a softball knuckle ball fluttering just far enough away that it resumes its place as part of the forest leaf litter….where you search endlessly for where it looked like it landed without seeing anything but leaves.

The woodcock is a loner. It associates with no other birds. It won’t fly until the Whip-or-will calls in the evening. It never flocks. It is silent even when flushed and the only conversation worth having is for a female during courtship. It is a poor flier that doesn’t even fly far when flushed. It has short wings that launch the over sized bird into flight that has been described as drunken. IT lands on nothing but the ground. When the woodcock walks he does so with a shuffle and he bounces ever so much like a Spotted Sandpiper. He must be a shorebird after all!

With that said. The Woodcock has a spectacular twilight nuptial flight and vocalizations to go with it that would impress any avian admirer. Perhaps the woodcock is all about stealth, worms, and women with a little romance worked in.  Incidentally, little is written about the woodcock hen. That’s a little odd too.

The American Woodcock is an awesome bird. It is a poster child for compelling us to getting outdoors and to learn and know more about our wonderful and diverse avifauna and all our natural history. The Woodcock is a special bird for me, not because it is weird, but because it is different. Without the woodcocks in nature, the world would suffer from sameness.

During the some 20 years I was involved in wildlife rehabilitation I saw hundreds of them brought in from downtown Cleveland where they were unable to negotiate migrating among tall buildings with confusing lights abound. A few survived but most died tragically and unnecessarily.

I write about spending more time in nature. The lessons are rewarding beyond description. One morning I was driving along Lake Erie and a woodcock flew directly at my windshield and lifted harmlessly over my vehicle. I may be one of the few persons that has ever seen a woodcock flying directly toward a human.

The bird in the picture for this blog was bobbing across Hoffman Norton Road and he or she was oblivious to me or my truck as I scrambled to take pictures. The woodcock is focused on what woodcocks do to survive and to proliferate. They are an important piece of the wonderful tapestry I call the Middle of Nowhere. This chance encounter is simply a gift to me and all those that appreciate our natural world. Many hours in the field make these serendipitous discoveries ever more special.

Wings in the Sky: a Middle of Nowhere Signature

Aldo Leopold was the "Father of Conservation" in America. He  wrote A Sand County Almanac. He died in 1948, the year I was born. His Son Luna published his book along with essays in 1949. It is a publication that resonates with conservationists even today and probably will for many generations.

Aldo Leopold was inspired by the flight of Canada Geese wheeling around rural Wisconsin especially in the spring when the combination of their trumpeting call and their squadron-like, v-formation  flight were a welcomed sight at the end of long, harsh winters.

 His work is a must read. It is easy reading that reflects the beauty, simplicity of nature, and concern for a society going one way and wild places going another and perhaps away all together. He writes about his observations and experiences in the field. What he says resonates with me the more time I spend in the Middle of Nowhere.

While birding in Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area I had a couple of encounters that illustrate why I am addicted to the nature experience. I stopped at my regular Beaver Lake in hopes of seeing a Red-headed Woodpecker and maybe the resident River Otters.

There were 2 Red-headed Woodpeckers foraging about the many standing dead trees that died from the lake formed by the beavers. In the dead branches of a fallen tree was a Bald Eagle. This was a 4 year old sub adult that will be an adult next year. You can tell by the extensive white plumage on the head and upper body.

The eagle was intensely looking down into the water below. Much to my surprise there were 2 River Otters 10 feet below the eagle defiantly swimming and interacting with each other and exploring the perches of the dead limbs. The Otters were either oblivious to their stalker or they didn't care.

That Bald eagle was sure interested in those moving life forms below. I imagine he had lunch on his mind. But he is an eagle and a lousy predator. He is , for all his glory, a meager scavenger. I suspect that the River Otters somehow know that they need not fear the intensity of the eagle's stare. Perhaps the young eagle was having a lesson in his limitations that will come into play as a wholesome, productive mature Adult.

It is spring and waterfowl migration abounds in Northeast Ohio. As I came to another pond in the refuge hundreds of Tundra Swans began to take flight. Canada Geese flights are oh so common but to see masses of swans is still a heart stopping experience.

The Swans are moving north to tundra lakes and ponds primarily in Arctic coastal wetlands and river deltas. They are impressive birds both individually and collectively. It isn't just the birds in flight but the calling that associates it. These Swans were once called whistling swans, because of their call. Pete Dunne in his book Pete Dunne's Essential Field Guide Companion describes the call as "One of the greatest sounds in nature. An erie, haunting, winsome call that is part whoop, part sigh."

Aldo Leopold didn't just appreciate the Canada Goose flight and call. It represents a life history that is connected to all living things. His appreciation was for the Canada Goose, The places that it breeds, the places they visit in migration and the places where they winter.

The perplexed Bald Eagle, the indifferent River Otters, and the flight of Tundra Swans are the salient experiences in a simple daily activity.......in the Middle of Nowhere.

Read Aldo Leopold and add John Dunne's companion guide to your library to complement your many hours in the field.

Notes From Afield on the First Day of Spring

It's the first day of spring and the weather is anything but springlike....or is it. I am pretty sure my best memory of spring was last year when the day time temperatures were in the 70's and even 80's. But when I think back over the many years I realize that this spring is pretty typical for NE Ohio.

Spring is really more about chronological progression toward summer than it is about comfortable t-shirt weather. In fact, spring is usually that challenging time of transition from the cold grip of winter and the warmth of the summer season.

Our 2013 first day of spring is cold with a biting wind and lake effect snow showers. The sun comes out and the clouds role through. Yet this spring day is right about what it should be as you travel around the Northeast Ohio middle of nowhere.

I traveled about 35 miles today and there was plenty to see. There were 19 species of waterfowl around Mosquito Lake and ponds and creeks in mosquito Creek Wildlife Area. There are plenty of migrating ducks and some looking for nesting sites in the area. A lot of ducks are paired up and, if not, courting for that privilege.

Canada Geese are paired up, cruising together on ponds or foraging in fields and corn stubble. Bald Eagles are paired, not just for breeding, but for life and eagles are sitting in their nest or hanging close by. Juvenile and sub adult eagles are numerous and congregate where ever food might be available. They will sit on the sidelines for a few years until they are ready to find a soul mate for life and raise annual families.

Northern Pike are spawning in shallow waters that will soon disappear as spring progresses. They are now laying and fertilizing eggs in flooded waters. It will be a primeval race between drying wetlands and hatching eggs to see if 2013 will be a productive hatch.

Blackbirds, absent a few weeks ago, seem to be on every fence line and moving in large foraging flocks with Brown-headed Cowbirds, Rusty Blackbirds, Common Grackles and occasionally with a few European Starlings. Red-winged Blackbird males are here now and a little later in the spring the females will arrive. Now that the boys are on territory and struttin' their stuff, the females will come and pick and choose the males with the best song and brightest red shoulders. And those female looking Red-wings you see in flocks now are most likely young males that still hold on to their juvenile, female, appearing plumage.

Yes its cold and the weather is frightful. But it isn't January and February. The birds are singing. All the creatures, while probably as tired of the weather as we are, are proceeding in spite of it all. I suspect if we are looking for good advice as we suffer with our "tardy" spring, all we need to do is look around us and we will see it is truly spring. It won't be long until a modest tilt in the jet stream will bring us all the relief we are so looking for. And when it does get warm spring showers will bring May flowers and then we'll have something else to complain about.

Common Goldeneye

As the ice on Mosquito Lake begins to melt and recede, many ducks seek the open waters for rest and some for food. Diving ducks eat fish, mussels and other available critters in ice cold waters. Among several species is the Common Goldeneye. This bird is named after its yellow eye, distinctly visible even at a distance.

The males cruise around open waters displaying for females, and as it turns out with an expectancy of finding a mate to share the journey to northern breeding grounds in wetlands, rivers, and lakes surrounded by mature forests in northern U.S. and Canada. The loyalty of this brief relationship is not quite clear but I was able to study part the life history of these fascinating birds first hand.

Dave Hochadel and I were studying a female Goldeneye that was paired up with a male in an open water location providing a great view. The female had an unusually yellow rather than dark brown bill. This brought to question whether this female might be the more rare western cousin, Barrow's Goldeneye.

It became clear that the female in question did not show other characteristics of a Barrow's Goldeneye but was, in fact, a Common Goldeneye. After all, this bird seemed to be paired up with the Common Goldeneye male. Then they proceeded to prove their bonding.

While we watched, the male made some head bobbing gestures and swam around the female that was lying in the water in a posture that looked like she was dead. The male worked his way beside the female who quickly disappeared under the water, while the male mounted her to breed. Once the breeding was over the male literally pulled the female out from under the water by the scruff of her neck and whirled her around in a semi-circle. And, as if nothing had happened, the Common Goldeneye world returned to normal.

This chance encounter was very special because it raised many questions, and it was an uncommon opportunity to witness something intimate in nature. I wanted to know whether Common Goldeneyes breed in migration to get a quick start on northerly nesting, and whether what we saw was normal or a aberration. Finding the answer wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.

Being a retro kind of guy, I did not "google" the question. I searched for the answer among the many waterfowl books in my collection. I was looking for more enlightenment revealed from reading life histories than I was in getting the "quick" answer. Looking for the answer to my question was more educational than the answer itself, and I must admit considerably more time consuming!

I looked, in no less than, the best waterfowl guides to North American Waterfowl, the bibles used by sportsmen and ornithology students for many years........with no answer. I was disappointed and puzzled that there was no mention of the Common Goldeneye breeding. Breeding is pretty important to life histories.

Finally I went to the book shelf and picked out THE LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN WILD FOWL: ORDER ANSERES, by Arthur Cleveland Bent of Taunton, Massachusetts, published in 1925.

The Bent Series was printed mostly around he turn of the 20th century, give or take 25 years, and the series contains a compilation of antectdotal accounts of the life histories of North American birds.
Much of the accounts were from the late 19th Century.

The Common Goldeneye account begins with "courtship" and Mr. Charles E. Alford provides an account of the breeding we witnessed in 1920. His account was far more elloquent than mine. Bent reveals that Common Goldeneyes do breed in migration and also or again on nesting grounds. The pairs bonded during migration apparently staying together, with the male leaving before the brood is hatched. There is no account of what happens when the pairs breed in their nesting area.

So I got my answer and much more information from arcane accounts. You see, the late 19th  and early 20th century time period was a very different time than the late 20th and early 21st century. The species accounts were during a time when people shaped science through observation. It wasn't a time of instant answers. There wasn't any "smart" or even "dumb" phones (like mine). Naturalists didn't "google" on a laptop: they "doodled" in journals. 19th century "tweeting" was performed by bird subjects, not by aspiring authors.

Here is the most important thing I learned about Common Goldeneyes:

It's your life. You can google "the middle of nowhere" or you can experience it. The best educators, the best technologies, the best gadgets, and the next best things will never replace exploring, discovery and revelations provided by the wild things and wild places in "the middle of nowhere". Cheers.

......because I have to.

I have been asked by many why I am driven to go birding so much.......to see the same birds over and over again. The short answer is "River Otters". I am pretty sure that answer begs more questions than it does answer a straight forward question. So here is a longer answer that will shed some light on my short answer.

When I was just starting to attend The Ohio State University I had no idea what I wanted to study. In the mean time I went fishing with friends in Ontario, Canada on remote lakes via vintage DeHaviland Beaver and Otter float planes. On one of those expeditions I wandered away from camp and happened upon a bluff above a creek. As I stood gazing at the stream a Lynx walked into an opening and took a drink. It was amazing. I had never seen such a creature.

I had already seen plenty of wildlife including bears.....but the Lynx was something different. What I witnessed for the first time in my life was wilderness. I have never seen another Lynx again, yet the Lynx remains the cornerstone of my passion, humility, and reverence for all things wild. The Lynx is a secretive cat that is threatened because of sensitivity to human disturbance. It is a poster child for wilderness and the threat we humans are to their fragile existence.

I figured out what I wanted to study in the boreal lakes of Canada. I had no idea where that career would take me nor could I have imagined what a profound impact it would have on Larry Richardson. I am still discovering the effects of a chance and brief encounter nearly 50 years ago.

Now I have a much better understanding of wildlife, wild places, ecology, natural history and myself, thanks to my education, mastering a career path in natural resources, and practicing environmental and natural history education. But I am, what I am, for what I have learned in the field (the middle of nowhere).

Northern River Otters are a beacon of hope in Ohio. This species was practically if not completely extirpated from the State. The Ohio Division of Wildlife introduced  the Northern River Otter back into selected, appropriate areas of the state with great success. The problem that threatened otters was pollution and their reintroduction a success, in large part, because of improvements by managing for clean waters they require.

This makes River Otters one of Ohio's signature species for moving in a wilder direction. It is unlikely that human disturbance will ever permit any portion of the state's return to wilderness but it is certainly a program that shows all of us how important it is to compromise what humans need with what wild things need. Improvements in biodiversity is just as important to over all human health, as it is for wildlife.

This River Otter pair I took pictures of raised a family on this pond in Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area last summer. They will do the same this year. Spring is coming soon to the beaver pond and Otters are fueling up for things to come. These guys were munching on catfish they caught under the ice and the thin veneer of slush forming on open water because temperatures are hovering at freezing.

I wouldn't have seen the Otters if I hadn't been exploring the wildlife refuge. I do my exploring by watching birds. It's true that I enjoy seeing the birds, but the fact is that I am a serious "discovery" addict. Very few days are a disappointment. The cool things I see by exploring these places are staggering. Serendipitous discoveries are the spice of my life.

So why do I go birding all the time and visit places new, old, near, and far. I love birds, and more importantly, I love wildlife and wild places. I am what I am thanks to a chance encounter with the Lynx, with wilderness, and with my own destiny. The reason I go girding over and over again is.....because  I have to.

Northern Shrike : a butcher-bird

In North America there are two species of Shrikes. The Loggerhead Shrike is a southern resident and Northern Shrike breeds in northern boreal areas. They are cool birds. Loggerheads are more common and a nearly extirpated breeder in Ohio. Northern Shrikes are rare and local winter visitors from November to March.

I have always liked shrikes. They are solitary birds that are just uncommon enough to always be a great find. Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area is known to harbor winter Northern Shrikes with it's rich and diverse open areas and plenty of perches around from which this bird loves to hunt from.

Shrikes are by every standard a successful and efficient predator. They can fly-catch, hover and ounce on insects and small birds relying on speed and stealth for a successful catch. Shrikes, like jays are hoarders. Jays stash or cache nuts and shrikes impale their victims on thorns, barbed wire or pointed sharp twigs. It is common in Texas to find grasshoppers impaled on the tips of the yucca leaves. Friends of mine documented a Golden-crowned Kinglet wedged in the crotch of two tree branches by a Northern Shrike.

I have not found the Northern Shrike in the ideal expanses of Mosquito Creek Wildlife Area until about a week ago. After several visits to adjacent grassy and old-field areas I have finally gotten some photographs. Recently, I found this bird perched at the top of a tree near the road. In the process of getting pictures the bird continued to sing musical notes repeated like a mockingbird (perhaps a soft "practice song") that ended with 3 loud, sharp, raspy calls followed by flight to another high prominent perch. It was a pretty song. It certainly didn't sound like a fearsome predator or an animal known as "a butcher bird".

Northern Shrike, Lanius excubitor was named by Linnaeus for the same species in Europe, the Great Gray Shrike. The genus name lanius means "a butcher" and excubitor further describes the bird (according to Linnaeus) "It looks out for the approach of hawks and warns little birds". It seems that the genus and species names are contradictory.

In our modern world the term "butcher" has been applied to both real and perceived monsters of both historic and science fiction characters. Surely the name reflects this diabolical hoarding practice. But the musical song and the recognition of alerting smaller birds just doesn't fit the mold.

It turns out that the term "butcher bird" is not at all judgemental but simply descriptive. You see, in 1544, long before America was even known, scientists gave the bird a name borrowed from the place almost everyone in the day could relate to: the market. The fellow that prepared the meat for purchase did so in a process. The early stage of carving meat was the sectioning the animal carcass and hanging sections on hooks where they remained until further processing. Butchers hang food on hooks and so do shrikes.

I love the middle of nowhere. The more you see, the more you wonder. And wonder leads to research, and research results in learning. The Northern Shrike is a wonderful bird with a wonderful song, and a wonderful life history. It was a wonderful experience, indeed.

A "Normal Day"..... with a camera

It was 16 degrees Fahrenheit when I got up this morning and we had a new 4 inch blanket of snow. Otherwise it looked to be a pretty nice day in spite of the cold and hefty 15-20 mile per hour winds. It didn't look promising for birding but looked like a good day to take the camera and document whatever crossed my path.

I wasn't disappointed because when you get into nature there are always surprises and discoveries. I like safe bets.

No one likes to get out in the great outdoors and run across a dead animal especially one that was harvested during hunting season. When you travel through wildlife areas you eventually find the spoils of hunting. This fact has never bothered me because it fits perfectly into the intricate web of nature.

Dead animals provide nourishment for any number of creatures from vultures, scavengers, and insects. Things that cease to live become an important part of the ecosystem. A concept that isn't often articulated is played out in reality every day. This is the transfer of nutrients through an ecosystem from the once living, to to be regenerated in many forms throughout the system, often living once again.

In the case of a carcass left by hunters, this is a practical recycling practice that is far more efficient then your local recycling services. I have provided pictures of Black-capped Chickadees and a Downy Woodpecker feeding on a well devoured corpse. These insectivores need protein and the carcass provides it. This happens to be the second carcass these birds have foraged on in this area over the last couple of months.

Whether you agree with hunting or not it is important to recognize that hunting is a recycling program practiced by humans for a very long time before we invented that name. I assure you that the chickadees and woodpeckers are very grateful today to be able to refuel on the spoils of hunting. This practice helps carnivores, scavengers and insectivorous populations survive the most trying of times of the year.

Seed eating birds have quite a different problem. Birds like Northern Cardinal don't eat meat but do need protein. They depend on fruits and seeds to get the necessary nutrition for surviving winter. December and January are challenging for these birds but a cold and wintry February can be a killer if the food supply is consumed earlier in the winter.

The ace-in-the-hole for most of these birds is Staghorn Sumac. This is that familiar natural shrub that has "hairy" or pubescent branches terminated by a similar red seed pod. The seeds are poor in nutrition but abundant, and just unpopular enough to provide sustenance for those birds in need for the final stretch of winter's cold and fury.

Actually Sumacs want to be consumed. This is one of the plant's survival strategies. Birds that eat the fruit and pass the seeds, distribute the seeds far and wide as well as nearby creating the possibility of growing new plants in places where they otherwise could never reach.

So the camera took me on a natural history tour of places, sites and sounds I experience every day. I documented the recycling of nutrients through the system by hunters, deer, chickadees and woodpeckers. I watched cardinals feeding on the fruits of the sumac to survive harsh conditions, knowing that somewhere a stand of new sumac will appear out of nowhere, thanks to a hungry songbird.

Yes, I saw a Pileated Woodpecker fly across the road in front of me. I watched a Red Fox pouncing playfully in the snow in hot pursuit of a Meadow Vole. The fox got a meal and in it's jubilation flung the Vole in the air and cased it down again, before they both simply vanished somewhere in drifting snow.

Nature is beautiful; balanced by stark realities that, while unpleasant, remind us that most importantly nature is a complex and amazing living system driven by survival and sacrifice. The best place to get enriched is in the Middle of Nowhere! Get out and discover it for yourself.

The Tipping Point

February 12, 2013 will probably be most remembered as "fat Tuesday". Otherwise it won't come up as any significant day in 2013 history but it is still significant. It isn't of meteorological interest nor seasonally noteworthy. Or is it?

I have already blogged about signs that spring will soon be upon us, at least here in Northeast Ohio. This Tuesday morning I observed a pair of Hooded Mergansers on a Mosquito Creek Wildlife area pond with a patch of open water. Those two are at least thinking about a family if not engaged in courtship.

There were 3 Male Common Goldeneye in a little open water on Mosquito Lake. They were swimming together and all three were bobbing their heads and ending with a gesture with bill skyward and the back of their heads almost touching their backs. This is a courting tactic that bonds them with a female. They weren't doing it to impress their buddies or to show off at all. At least not yet. You see, they just can't help themselves. It's SPRING. Their internal guidance system to attract the girls is in full throttle. They are doing this because they have to.......ready and perfected for some lovely would-be mate just up some north woods stream.

The morning started out with a serendipitous look at a Mink on ice skirting a stream that feeds into Mosquito Lake. This is a mammal that by 1860 was nearly hunted into oblivion for their furs, but have made a remarkable comeback because of conservation, protection and improving environmental conditions. They are a ferocious predator. I have seen them carrying a drake Mallard killed for its hungry family. The Mink is likely on the prowl for an early spring meal.

In the marsh I found a Virginia Opossum munching on some morsel of food it scavenged from the marsh. These Marsupials are primarily nocturnal but they are searching for much needed food after slim pickings on cold and snowy winter landscapes.

These things are signs of spring but do not necessarily define the beginning of spring. But one thing does announce that spring is official and joyfully true.

Winter is a silent season. There are sounds in winter. Canada Geese may be the only species more vocal than humans, no matter the season. There are natural sounds even in the deepest hours of winter. But on some day in early February songbirds begin to sing. It is like someone turned on a faucet. In fact the handle on the faucet is the lengthening daylight. And February 12, 2013 was the day the singing began and therefor announcing the first day of spring. There will be song in every habitat until the eve of next winter. and from this point it will build to tremendous and glorious crescendo in May and June.

I was serenaded by a Purple Finch at Mosquito Lake with a continuing loud song that was sung to absolute perfection. I could not find a Purple Finch for more than two months. They were probably there but I never could find them. Ironically, I enjoyed every note of the repeated song....but I could never find the bird. I'll take a song any day and the proclamation of spring.

It seemed everybody was joining the celebration. Tufted Titmice, Cardinals, even Yellow-rumped Warblers, could be heard uttering call notes, not a song, but that won't be too far down the trail. The middle of nowhere is somewhere and that somewhere is on its course for another year of beautiful places and wonderful sights and sounds.

You won't see February 12, 2013 as the first day of anything but take my word for it, Spring is officially here. In fact, don't take my word for it. Get out and find a little piece of nowhere and listen. No matter how cold or snowy it gets, the days from this point on will usher in song and spring!

A Casual and Rare Winter Vistor from America's Great Northwest

The Varied Thrush is a magnificent bird among our common thrushes. Although our American Robin is beautiful in its own right, the Varied thrush has some endearing qualities as well as stunning plumage.

A resident of the Pacific Northwest and breeding west of the Continental Divide it rarely but regularly wanders east including into the Great Lakes region. This is a pattern uncommon among most bird species but a few share this apparent wander lust.

A Varied Thrush has made its way into Holmes County, Ohio patronizing a feeder at an Amish home. The family welcomed at times hordes of birders anxious to see this species for the first time. I saw another bird at a feeder in Findlay State Park back in the 1980's but I was happy to make a trip to see another.

When I see a Varied Thrush it sends my mind and heart to the Rocky Mountains and Glacier National Park. The Varied Thrush is a signature of mature moist coniferous forests. It lives in dense, continuous stands of conifers. Sometimes they appear in the middle of a road but more often than not they are heard and nearly impossible to locate even when they are near.

The song sounds like a fluted thrush song delivered with a descending buzz. The males sing from the tops of spruce and cedar. They forage on moss laden forest floor. With even the best of effort they are still nearly impossible to find near, far up or down. The song is unmistakable and probably a bit unsettling if one didn't know it was a bird.

So, I love a mystery. It's elusive habits and it's casual "wander lust" are the very things that make this bird so cool and special. And when you finally get to see this creature it is punctuated beauty.

I have fond memories of visiting Glacier National Park in early June. The roads are closed and there may be 30 feet of snow at the pass that bridges west and east at the Continental Divide. Closed to vehicular traffic the road winding ever up to the pass and after a few hundred yards you see Glacier in all her wilderness glory. I watched Grizzly Bear mother and cubs crossing a high glacier and watched Ravens soaring high above.

It's a great walk. All along the way the erie and unmistakable song of the Varied Thrush serenades those the that weave their way along the road that bisects majestic spruce forest. And if your lucky a couple may grace you with an appearance on the quiet road ahead.

I enjoy seeing Ohio's rare visitors but I remain an advocate for birders to seek out as many birds in their natural habitat as possible so they can get to know the birds and more importantly the places they represent.

The Varied Thrush song is one best heard by the heart. My eternal pursuit of birds is smoking mirror. Birding is the leading edge of my insatiable need to experience wild places and wild things in the middle of nowhere.

Late January Signs of Spring

It's cold. It's snowing. It was -2 degrees a couple of mornings ago and has warmed to a toasty 14 degrees today. It is, unquestionably, January in the Great Lakes. Birding in the winter is relatively slow but it is also a good time for serendipitous discoveries.

So far this year I have seen 10 species of mammals. The best sighting was a pair of Coyotes on Mosquito Lake ice. I watched the two Coyotes acting more like puppies....out of character for their reputation. My guess is that frolicking, rolling around on the ice and laying on their backs with legs kicking around in the air may preclude a spring family. Just a guess.

I watched a an American Beaver lodge transform over a few days during the warm "January thaw". One day I could see that it was darker than it had been. After inspecting with binoculars it clearly had received a new coat of mud and muck. The Beaver was resting at the base of the lodge. The same was true the next day. On the third day the Beaver was absent but the Lodge had a new set of cut and crafted sticks and timbers. I think it was a renovation for a new spring nursery and the ultimate permanent thaw.

Yesterday I traveled to the Lake Erie shoreline along downtown Cleveland. Here is an infamous location where Gulls congregate to feed on Gizzardshad attracted to warm waters discharged by a power plant. It was brutally cold and a sobering reminder of what January can dish-out along the north coast of Ohio.

The visit was successful because there were lots of gulls. While we looked across masses of birds resting on near-shore ice it was all interrupted by other birds looking for more than Gizzardshad. Two Bald Eagles cruised over the masses along the harbor break wall and all the resting masses rose to the sky in two huge clouds. A Peregrine Falcon came to near shore and raised the birds near shore. The result was a conservative estimate of 100,000 gulls swarming in the air in front of the birders toughing out the extreme cold. It was an awesome sight.

The benefit of gull concentrations is that it usually harbors rarer gulls in the masses of Ring-billed and Herring Gulls. And with patience and practice we were able to single out Glaucous, Iceland, Thayer's, and Lesser Black backed Gulls among the chaos.

While the Lake Erie Bald Eagles were busy working out a meal I found 2 more Bald Eagles today engaged in another compelling activity. While cruising Mosquito Creek Wildlife area this morning I saw 2 Bald Eagles on the ground in a large open grassland bordered by forest. As I watched them hopping around on the ground the male rose up and with wings flailing for balance mated with the female. This is the only time I have been absolutely sure who was the boy and who was the girl as they are identical in plumage.

Breeding Bald Eagles, lodge maintenance and frolicking Coyotes are true sign that spring is not too far down the trail. But there are other hints as well. Have you noticed that the American Goldfinches are already looking much more yellow? Have you seen that European Starlings are losing body speckles and looking a bit glossy? Look at their beaks and you will see that the bills are growing into yellow. It is the bright yellow bill that appeals to the girls when winter turns to spring.

It's cold and still snowing. Winter will seem to linger forever for most of us but in nature all the creatures are watching the sun and adjusting to the lengthening daylight. Even if it stays cold, when the daylight signals spring, wildlife and wild places will be ready for the real spring ahead, especially in the Middle of Nowhere.