Ripples 7/22/21

Posted on by July 22, 2021

 by Kennedy Zittel, Assistant Naturalist

barred owlOne of the very first bird calls that I ever learned was the famous “Who Cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?” call. Those 8-9 notes are very recognizable if you know what to listen for, and those notes compose the call of the Barred Owl. When I was little, my grandparents and I would walk around our forested property late at night and I would belt out my rendition of the barred owl call… much to the horror of all of the local wildlife and neighbors. Occasionally there would be one bold enough to call back, which probably only fueled the idea that I was actually talking to them. If we were walking around very quietly the owls could be heard calling out into the darkness “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?” but when you are little, being quiet is a pretty hard task when you think that you can talk to owls. 

Now obviously I was quite the imaginative child (let’s be honest, not much has really changed) but I did believe a common misconception about barred owls and owls in general that I just recently found out to be untrue. We were out planting trees and all of a sudden from the forest next to us was the call of a barred owl. At 9 AM! How weird right? Aren’t owls supposed to be nocturnal (more active at night)? Well, after doing some quick research, it turns out that they are actually considered more of a crepuscular species (meaning that they are active during twilight – dawn and dusk) and during the time of the year that they are raising their owlets they are even more active during the day (diurnal). 

Given that new information it wasn’t actually that weird to be hearing them call during the morning hours. Since that first time hearing them out in the woods we have heard them call at least twice a week. Thus we are assuming they are nesting around where we are planting. We have even found barred owl feathers close to where we hear them call. How neat!

Barred owls often nest in heavily wooded areas with only scattered clearings near swampy areas. Where we are planting (out in the swales) there are big clearings dominated by skunk cabbage surrounded by dense woodlands of varying tree species. In that area there is also no shortage of “yummy” food for the owls to eat. Each time we take a step it sends dozens of frogs and toads scattering for cover under the skunk cabbage. There are also squirrels, rabbits, mice, reptiles, amphibians – like the frogs and toads, etc. that the barred owls would love to munch on. It’s no wonder those owls are there, it truly seems to be the perfect habitat! 

If I could go back and tell my younger self that in my future career I would be out working in the woods and hear the owl call that I grew up to know so well, and get to still call back to it… I would have been so excited! Owl whisperer-ing aside, it is super cool knowing that there are owls around us as we are out planting trees, and even more awesome knowing that those trees that we are planting could be home to future owl populations once they are bigger. So, if you are out in the woods here at Woodland Dunes and you hear that famous “who cooks for you?” call during the day, you know it can indeed be an owl and which one it is. And if you hear a very bad rendition of that same call following it, well, you probably know who is making that call too.

photo of Barred Owl (Taken at Kohler-Andre State Park) by Ray Pollen

Ripples 7/15/21

Posted on by July 16, 2021

by Kennedy Zittel, Assistant Naturalist

Another summer spent out in the swales planting trees to help combat the devastation that the emerald ash borer is causing in many local forests. To be honest, I thought that last summer was going to be my last year planting trees. I didn’t expect to get to stay here, much less have a permanent job here too.

I truly am grateful every day that I am out on our preserve for the wonderful opportunity of getting to help maintain it. Although, as I am once again mid-calf deep in mud, with mosquitoes swarming my face and biting my arms, and with slimy slugs crawling all over me, I wonder if I hit my head a bit too hard on a branch at some point. Yet, as I look out at the caged trees that we have planted, I can’t help but smile. It really is such a rewarding thing getting to see all of those little trees go in the ground and know that someday they will be big enough that I can’t even wrap my arms around them. Those trees that we planted will offer homes to countless birds, insects, and mammals alike. They will offer canopy cover for other shade- loving plants to grow and offer climbing plants a route up towards the sky.

Last summer we planted 2,500 trees and this summer we have another 2,500 more to plant.  We have about 1,500 of the second round of trees in the ground already, and hopefully by the time you read this article it will be many more! I would have helped plant 5,000 trees by the end of this summer that will one day grow into those giant trees that we all look at in awe. How wonderful is that? 5,000 trees that will be home for so many creatures and help diversify our forests to maintain the precious ecosystem that Woodland Dunes has. Sure, I definitely cannot say that I appreciate having mosquitoes swarm at my face nor enjoy getting swampy swale water pouring into my boot as I misstep into the swale. But looking at all of those little caged trees really does remind me of why I choose to do what I do each day.

One of my favorite quotes is “The one who plants trees, knowing he will never sit in their shade, has at least started to understand the meaning of life” – Rabindranath Tagore. I find that to be a quote that I try to live by not only literally as I plant those trees but also just in general too. I probably won’t be able to see those trees grow to become giants, but other people will. Even just one tree put into the ground is a tree that future generations from now can see, and that is what keeps me going each day. We have a very fulfilling job here at Woodland Dunes, though we may not all know the full meaning of life just yet (I will let you all know when I have figured it out though), we all strive to help preserve this wonderful place for future generations to enjoy. I hope to someday come back out into the areas that we planted in and see those trees and know that I helped put some of them in the ground that they now stand watch over. Until then, back to digging I go.

Ripples 7/9/21

Posted on by July 9, 2021

Red-shouldered hawk

Written by Jordan Troeger, land management intern

There comes a time in every aspiring biologist’s life that leaves them speechless. A moment where their heart races, their brain halts, and the only thought they can formulate is “Wow”. For me, it was finding the threatened Red-shouldered hawk nest.

My fellow interns and I were out in the woods when all of a sudden, one of them noticed a plethora of droppings on the skunk cabbage surrounding a tree. Naturally, we looked up. There, sitting among the branches, was a stick nest. We’d been told there was a Red-shouldered hawk on the preserve, and that the staff at Woodland Dunes had been searching for it for nearly 20 years. Could it be? Could we have found it?

My heart began to race. We tried to keep our expectations low. It probably wasn’t the Red-shouldered nest. That would be too lucky. We examined the area. It was in the right kind of habitat. But that could have been a coincidence. We started to research the hawks. We discovered that Barred Owls co-habitate with Red-shoulders. We’d been hearing the owls daily. But, again, what are the chances of that?

We began to search for signs of the birds. A feather lay neatly at the base of the tree. Another of the interns picked it up. It looked like a Red-Shouldered Hawk tail feather. All of a sudden, a stream of gooey, white poop rained down from the nest. The chick was staring down at us. We immediately backed up, both to not agitate the chick and to get a better look.

Sure enough, it was a Red-shouldered hawk chick, about two weeks out from flying the nest. His fuzzy head and sleek body created an ugly-yet-beautiful combination that stole my breath away. I was speechless. I couldn’t stop smiling. I teared up.

We’d found it.

The adult circled up ahead, calling to her baby. We backed even further up, but she didn’t land. We barely made a sound. This was the discovery of a lifetime—this nest had been hidden for years, and we’d found it. We quietly left the woods and told our fellow staff members. It was an afternoon of celebration at the office. None of us could fathom the fact that we’d found the nest. Looking back on it, it seems like a crazy dream.

Jim, the director of Woodland Dunes, called in a Red-shouldered hawk expert. The expert had us show him the nest, and upon further investigation he told us that, rather than just one chick, there were three! We had found a whole family of threatened hawks; I was speechless yet again.

We fondly named the hawks after Greek gods: Hera and Hades (the parents) and Apollo, Artemis, and Athena (the chicks). I was content with the knowledge that we’d found them. I didn’t need anything more. But our luck continued when John Jacobs (the hawk expert) let us come band the female with him.

We set up the net, turned on the Great Horned Owl lure, and left John and his wife in a blind. We walked out of the woods—John told us that Red-Shoulders seem to know if people go into a blind but not out, and that they’ll follow you out of the woods, as if to make sure you leave—and sat in silence to await John’s call. For nearly thirty minutes, we heard John’s prerecorded Red-Shoulder call echoing through the forest, enticing the hawk in. But with each recorded call, our spirits sank slightly. Those calls meant the hawk wasn’t in the net.

After forty-five minutes, and fifteen minutes of near silence, we got the call: John had caught the hawk! We raced to the sight and helped tear down the trap, the hawk safely tucked into a canister.

She was the most gorgeous bird I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was stunning. Her sleek, strong body was brown and white, her feet and beak bright yellow. Her shoulders, named oh-so-well, were a stunning shade of orangey-red. Her eyes were fierce and wise; she was unlike anything I’d witnessed before.

Once at the car, we got to watch as John banded, measured, and examined the bird. We helped write down data as he taught us how to identify newly grown feathers, who was leading the way in Red-Shouldered Hawk research, and various facts about their lives and behavior. After he was done processing the bird, he strapped a GPS backpack onto her back so he could observe her movements and overwintering patterns.

Then, he said something that left me more speechless than I’d been that entire week:

“Do you want to hold her?”

My heart left my chest. Of course I wanted to hold her! We each took a turn holding the beautiful bird, beaming as Jim snapped pictures of us. Finally, it was time to release her. John gently set her on the ground and she took off, soaring into the trees with the grace of an acrobat.

As she flew away, back to her nest, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. How lucky am I to have been one of the people to find the nest? How lucky am I to have gotten to speak with a Red-Shouldered Hawk expert? How lucky am I to have been able to watch said expert catch and band her? And how lucky am I that he trusted us all enough to hold her?

This was one of the most rewarding, exhilarating, and humbling experiences I’ve ever had. As someone dedicated to working with and protecting wild animals, this was something out of a dream. I am honored to have been one of the lucky few to have had this experience. However, it has made me more aware of my contributions to the decline of Red-shouldered hawk and other wildlife populations. Logging, wetland-filling, and collisions are some of the greatest human-induced threats facing Red-shouldered hawks today. And it is up to us—the common citizens of the world—to help protect these marvelous creatures.

Look into your ecological footprint, choose more sustainable ways to live, and research your local wildlife. In doing so, be on the lookout for an upcoming Red-shouldered hawk program at Woodland Dunes with John Jacobs, and head out to Yellow Birch trail for a chance to hear the keer-keer-keer of Hera and/or her family.

Ripples 7/1/21

Posted on by July 1, 2021

Ripples from the Dunes, by Jackson Bjork, Summer Intern

One of the many things I enjoy most in life is going for a drive on a beautiful summer day in my Jeep Wrangler with the windows off, the convertible top down, and feeling the cool lake breeze running through my hair. While on a drive a few weeks ago near Mishicot, my enjoyment was suddenly interrupted by a rock shaped object lying in the middle of the roadway. After I narrowly missed the suspicious object, my curiosity overwhelmed me so much that I immediately turned around at the nearest driveway and headed back to its location. What I saw when I approached the object was a frightened turtle trying to cross the dangerous road. It was then that I made it my mission to rescue the helpless turtle! After the avoided another oncoming car, I urgently ran over and retrieved him. Once I had him back in the safe haven of my Jeep, I inspected him and realized that he was a painted turtle (Chrysemys picta) more specifically he was the subspecies Western painted turtle (C, p. bellii).

Painted turtles are one of the most numerous turtles that live in North America. They can be found from Southern Canada to Northern Mexico and there are a total of four subspecies that make up the entirety of painted turtles. These subspecies are the Eastern (C. p. picta), Midland (C. p. marginate), Southern (C. p. dorsalis), and the Western painted turtle, which is the one that I found on the road. The turtles are very distinctive by their yellow, orange, or red striped patterns that can be observed on their skin. What distinguishes the subspecies apart from each other are the patterns on their shells. The Western, which is also the most common in Wisconsin, can be easily identified by the vibrant red pattern on the bottom their shells.

Now, my initial mistake rescuing the turtle was taking him to what I deemed a “safer location” that was far away from the unsafe road. Many people every year assume they are doing the right thing by moving turtles off roads and take them to other locations that provide a safer habitat, but doing this actually harms the turtles. In fact, it is a better idea to simply move the turtle off the road in the direction they were facing. This is because the turtle is more than likely trying to get back to its eggs or specific habitat that they rely on for their survival. Moving the turtle to a new location will only put them in more jeopardy. If moved they will be unfamiliar with the new habitat and will go by whatever means possible to get back to the home that they were removed from. While trying to get home they will cross more roads and be easily exposed to predators. Luckily, I was informed of this information before I released the turtle somewhere else and now that same little turtle I saved from the road is back where he belongs, in his home. 

photo by Jackson Bjork

Ripples 6/24/2021

Posted on by June 24, 2021
During our summer work in the preserve, surveying wildlife or restoring habitat, we try to be aware of the creatures and plants which reside here.  We don’t regard them as curiosities- they are living beings and we are in their home.  Even if we’ve heard a wood thrush or red-shouldered hawk a hundred times, we still remind ourselves how special they are, and how fortunate we are to have them as our neighbors.
 
One of those residents which people are often surprised to meet are the orchids.  Most of us think of orchids as exotic tropical plants grown in a greenhouse and on windowsills, but they are a large, varied, and successful family of plants with several wild members growing in forests in our region.  Worldwide there are about 28,000 species of orchids, making them one of the largest families of flowering plants in existence.  They are often colorful and fragrant making them popular subjects for domestication.  In the forest here we find a variety of orchid types- from lady’s tresses to purple fringed orchid to coralroot and a few pink ladyslippers.  In some cases it’s rare to find a flower, though, because deer like to graze on the blooms.
 
There is even an invasive orchid- the helleborine orchid (Epipactis helleborine), which has escaped from home gardens into the forest.  Its native range is from Portugal to northern Africa east to China.  It is a perennial plant which grows from 1-3 feet tall and has broad leaves and spikes of irregular flowers typical of the orchids.  Fortunately, it spreads rather slowly, and often doesn’t grow in dense colonies, rather appearing here and there in a forest, especially near footpaths- I suspect shoes help to spread it’s seeds.
 
Helleborine orchids are very attractive to pollinators- they secrete a sweet nectar enjoyed by wasps, flies, and bees.  They depend on these insects to pollinate their flowers, allowing them to produce large numbers of seeds, through which they colonize areas disturbed by people.  In order to germinate, those seeds require help from fungi in the soil- any of several different groups of symbiotic organisms.      Unlike some other invasive plants, helleborine orchids don’t seem to overwhelm forest areas- as I mentioned they seem to present a few plants in places where there has been disturbance, such as paths, around buildings, or roadsides.  Because they are perennial and not too dense in their growing habit, they can be controlled by simply pulling them out, rather than requiring herbicide or more extensive mechanical controls.
If you happen to come across the hellborine orchid, you are seeing a plant which is as much at home here as it is in parks in places like London, Moscow, or San Francisco.  It is an interesting addition to our local flora, and an example of how we humans affect the environment wherever we travel.  
 
photo- Helleborine orchid from Paul Smith’s College Visitor Interpretive Center