Reviewing the weather in the morning, I decided that a road trip to a never visited wild life area was in order. The choice was this refuge at the confluence of the Shiawassee, Flint, Cast and Tittabawassee rivers in Saginaw County.
The 9,000 acre area, rich farmland land with large standing water and flood control dikes is a resting place for migrating birds. March being a good time to catch southern birds heading to northern reaches, I expected a broad range of unique birds.
Instead, what I found is 10,000 golf course scourges known as Canada geese. I'd never seen that many geese in one place, but I've seen plenty of Canada geese in parks, and ponds all over the Detroit metropolitan area.
Dotted among the masses were a few mallards, swans, and gulls, none identifiable as exotic.
But, the trip wasn't wasted (thought the energy to carry binoculars might have been). I found a long path along dikes leading to an observation point at the northern end of the range. More geese, ducks, swans and gulls.
From the dike I observed a muskrat in the water, and surprised a woodchuck near its lair.
It turned out to be a good spring day, well worth the nearly 100 mile trip.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Crosswinds Marsh, March 21, 2010
I took the time to visit the marsh early this Sunday morning, looking for my favorite Eagles.
I'd been concerned, because a person I encountered late in the fall had indicated that what I'd anticipated from discovering the Eagle nesting activity late fall 2008 had fallen from the tree over that winter.
Though expecting Eagles were better engineers, I was philosophical regarding their nests, believing even they could make a mistake regarding picking a tree capable of securing up to 3-tons of sticks and mud above the ground.
Realizing that the massive nest everyone pointed out remained in a decaying tree even though the Eagles had moved 15 months earlier, I wanted to reinforce my February discovery with another independent observation of the birds' locaiton.
The walk around the park, and discrete observation of the tree tops from the February observation rediscovered the location of the "bulge" which indicated a nest. Though not as massive as the nest atop a tree less substantial than the one which held the original nest, the "bulge" was obvious.
I wanted to target it from several angles to document its location for observation when foliage obscured its location.
Reasonably certain the bird had not moved, I first went to the dock below the parking area to scan the open water. One month after pinpointing the marsh's "royalty", I was curious whether "new birds" had shown up. Canada Geese, Trumpeter Swans, and Mallards swam on the water while Common Gulls, Herring Gulls (sometimes confused with Ospreys), and glaucous gulls circled overhead.
Nothing new, until the gulls began screeching and squawking in tones reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds."
I looked toward the parking lot, and found a well bundled aperation walking along its boundary tossing what appeared to be bread.
Squawks and screeches came from that area where the gulls soaring from overhead swooped in for a "kill."
I recited a well worn oath regarding God's son wondering why anyone would think that tossing unconsumed "human" food to a nature area did anything to enhance the lives of the birds who dwelled there.
Satisfied that the water below me didn't contain "new" discoveries for the season, I decided to walk across the causeways toward the eagle's nest.
As I emerged onto the last walk, I realized that the "bread whisperer" had located at the union of the causeways I had to traverse.
There was no way to avoid him unless he went toward the nest I wanted to observe or back to the parking lot behind his nexus with the rest of the walkway.
Deciding that the other in the park wasn't aware of what I was doing, I moved toward the nest location, and he approached me, leading an arthritic dog on a leash across the causeway while he tossed food from a bag.
The birds circles overhead as I passed him and said, "Hello."
Beyond our encounter, I found numerous gulls on the walkway hand rails, each rising in turn as I got within 20-feet of their perch.
Once I got past the "feces bombing" area created by the dislocated birds, I found my Eagle's nest, and a bird circling into the treetops beyond it.
"They" hadn't moved, and their dinner awaited them on the railings of the causeway I'd just passed.
I'd been concerned, because a person I encountered late in the fall had indicated that what I'd anticipated from discovering the Eagle nesting activity late fall 2008 had fallen from the tree over that winter.
Though expecting Eagles were better engineers, I was philosophical regarding their nests, believing even they could make a mistake regarding picking a tree capable of securing up to 3-tons of sticks and mud above the ground.
Realizing that the massive nest everyone pointed out remained in a decaying tree even though the Eagles had moved 15 months earlier, I wanted to reinforce my February discovery with another independent observation of the birds' locaiton.
The walk around the park, and discrete observation of the tree tops from the February observation rediscovered the location of the "bulge" which indicated a nest. Though not as massive as the nest atop a tree less substantial than the one which held the original nest, the "bulge" was obvious.
I wanted to target it from several angles to document its location for observation when foliage obscured its location.
Reasonably certain the bird had not moved, I first went to the dock below the parking area to scan the open water. One month after pinpointing the marsh's "royalty", I was curious whether "new birds" had shown up. Canada Geese, Trumpeter Swans, and Mallards swam on the water while Common Gulls, Herring Gulls (sometimes confused with Ospreys), and glaucous gulls circled overhead.
Nothing new, until the gulls began screeching and squawking in tones reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds."
I looked toward the parking lot, and found a well bundled aperation walking along its boundary tossing what appeared to be bread.
Squawks and screeches came from that area where the gulls soaring from overhead swooped in for a "kill."
I recited a well worn oath regarding God's son wondering why anyone would think that tossing unconsumed "human" food to a nature area did anything to enhance the lives of the birds who dwelled there.
Satisfied that the water below me didn't contain "new" discoveries for the season, I decided to walk across the causeways toward the eagle's nest.
As I emerged onto the last walk, I realized that the "bread whisperer" had located at the union of the causeways I had to traverse.
There was no way to avoid him unless he went toward the nest I wanted to observe or back to the parking lot behind his nexus with the rest of the walkway.
Deciding that the other in the park wasn't aware of what I was doing, I moved toward the nest location, and he approached me, leading an arthritic dog on a leash across the causeway while he tossed food from a bag.
The birds circles overhead as I passed him and said, "Hello."
Beyond our encounter, I found numerous gulls on the walkway hand rails, each rising in turn as I got within 20-feet of their perch.
Once I got past the "feces bombing" area created by the dislocated birds, I found my Eagle's nest, and a bird circling into the treetops beyond it.
"They" hadn't moved, and their dinner awaited them on the railings of the causeway I'd just passed.
Crosswinds Marsh, February 21, 2010
Visited the location in Wayne County under duress regarding the "local bald eagles."
It had been a long winter, full of climatic traps for these 61-year-old legs. I hadn't visited since the January thaw because I feared slipping, falling, and lying incapable of helping myself on the ice.
The boardwalks weren't the best, but I managed to tippy toe across the ice clogs, and go out into the marsh to look for my target.
The Eagles had moved.
Their nest had been empty for months, but it was unlikely they simply left. The original nest was well know, but the water, and the adjoining heap of trash, was too fruitful for an Eagle's demeanor to ignore.
Some careful observation of the more likely "private Eagle spots" (those which were more in tune with an Eagle's desires for secrecy than the nest that every visitor I encountered over the past years would point out) discovered the perching birds at water's edge, and eventually gliding to the "bump" in the trees which indicated a nesting site.
Good binoculars, and some active exploration found "the bulge" isolated across water and marsh, and eventually totally obscured by leaves next spring.
Surrounding that bulge using periodic observations from dry paths, I triangulated on the "eagle's nest" to the point where I could document it's location on my GPS receiver for future observation after foliage arrives.
Rest assured, the Eagles are in the Marsh. Rest assured, their location is only known to those who want to assure their continued privacy.
It had been a long winter, full of climatic traps for these 61-year-old legs. I hadn't visited since the January thaw because I feared slipping, falling, and lying incapable of helping myself on the ice.
The boardwalks weren't the best, but I managed to tippy toe across the ice clogs, and go out into the marsh to look for my target.
The Eagles had moved.
Their nest had been empty for months, but it was unlikely they simply left. The original nest was well know, but the water, and the adjoining heap of trash, was too fruitful for an Eagle's demeanor to ignore.
Some careful observation of the more likely "private Eagle spots" (those which were more in tune with an Eagle's desires for secrecy than the nest that every visitor I encountered over the past years would point out) discovered the perching birds at water's edge, and eventually gliding to the "bump" in the trees which indicated a nesting site.
Good binoculars, and some active exploration found "the bulge" isolated across water and marsh, and eventually totally obscured by leaves next spring.
Surrounding that bulge using periodic observations from dry paths, I triangulated on the "eagle's nest" to the point where I could document it's location on my GPS receiver for future observation after foliage arrives.
Rest assured, the Eagles are in the Marsh. Rest assured, their location is only known to those who want to assure their continued privacy.
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