April 2, 2014
Winter has broken.
Took a trip to Lake Erie Marsh Metropark near Gibraltar to see what might be migrating through.
Spotted a cormorant skimming the lake shore side, several gulls resting on the water, and some Canada Geese flying the north south route along the shore.
Went to the site where most birders camp near the boat launch to see if there was any evidence of the raptor migration along the shoreline.
Nothing moving in the air, but there was a pattern atop a far tree between the nature center and boat launch that rated a look. Speculated it was a resting hawk, except it appeared to have a white breast and head.
Walking along the paths west of the nature center, I found an overlook back into the marsh.
Back behind a screen of branches, I spotted an Osprey sitting at the top of the tree surveying the marsh.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Crosswinds Marsh is shrinking.
I'm used to winter water levels on dammed ponds. Those who operate dams lower the water levels in a containment area to sudden inflows of precipitation expected during the colder months of the year. It protects the structure from suffering a breach and helps control the water levels in flows downstream from a containment area.
Crosswinds Marsh had all the indications that its water level was lowered when I visited Monday. Reeds abutted mud flats, and the posts on walkways which traverse the ponds showed at least at two foot gap between the dark high water mark and the existing level.
Sometimes normal for a Michigan November 19 on a controlled containment pond, except Crosswinds doesn't have a mechanism for lowering water levels installed in its dam.
It's meant to be a permanent wetland which replaced wetlands consumed by nearby airport runway expansion more than 10 years ago. The rule at that time was every acre of virgin wetland which is filled in for construction purposes had to be replaced with two acres of "new" wetland.
Crosswinds features a horse trail which winds around the outside of the marsh for more than five miles. The trail at the outer reaches is dry because it runs along the dam created to contain the water in the wetland. The outlet is closed with a structure which allows water to flow over the edge to maintain the levels within the confines of the outer dams.
Usually, water trickles over the top into a marl bed which filters out silt and allows relatively clean water to flow toward Lake Erie to the southeast. Monday the top looked like a narrow walkway, water far below the top level.
I'm used to winter water levels on dammed ponds. Those who operate dams lower the water levels in a containment area to sudden inflows of precipitation expected during the colder months of the year. It protects the structure from suffering a breach and helps control the water levels in flows downstream from a containment area.
Crosswinds Marsh had all the indications that its water level was lowered when I visited Monday. Reeds abutted mud flats, and the posts on walkways which traverse the ponds showed at least at two foot gap between the dark high water mark and the existing level.
Sometimes normal for a Michigan November 19 on a controlled containment pond, except Crosswinds doesn't have a mechanism for lowering water levels installed in its dam.
It's meant to be a permanent wetland which replaced wetlands consumed by nearby airport runway expansion more than 10 years ago. The rule at that time was every acre of virgin wetland which is filled in for construction purposes had to be replaced with two acres of "new" wetland.
Crosswinds features a horse trail which winds around the outside of the marsh for more than five miles. The trail at the outer reaches is dry because it runs along the dam created to contain the water in the wetland. The outlet is closed with a structure which allows water to flow over the edge to maintain the levels within the confines of the outer dams.
Usually, water trickles over the top into a marl bed which filters out silt and allows relatively clean water to flow toward Lake Erie to the southeast. Monday the top looked like a narrow walkway, water far below the top level.
April 1, 2014
Spent the late morning and early afternoon at Crosswinds Marsh in Sumpter Township.
I spotted six or eight scooting about over open water amid the melting ice sheets, and another six on the water.
The six on the water looked like three mating couples.
Later, made my way toward the north end of open water and spotted a bald eagle moving behind the branches which normally screen it from view when the foliage arrives later in the spring. It was on the nest surrounded by the waterway and marshland at the north end of the park.
Also found gulls and what is now the permanent Canada Geese flock.
The mute swan pests were gone.
Spent the late morning and early afternoon at Crosswinds Marsh in Sumpter Township.
I spotted six or eight scooting about over open water amid the melting ice sheets, and another six on the water.
The six on the water looked like three mating couples.
Later, made my way toward the north end of open water and spotted a bald eagle moving behind the branches which normally screen it from view when the foliage arrives later in the spring. It was on the nest surrounded by the waterway and marshland at the north end of the park.
Also found gulls and what is now the permanent Canada Geese flock.
The mute swan pests were gone.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Crosswinds Marsh, October 29, 2010
Visited the wetland in mid-morning on a 43-degree day. Wind was nippy out of the north, and apparently kept the birds close to the ground and on the water. Weren't even many song birds flitting about in the cold wind.
I walked the Bald Eagle trail, which circles the main pond for more than 3-miles, inspired in part by the distinct trumpeting of what I thought were Sandhill Cranes off to the west. Couldn't get a visual confirmation of the cranes, but recognized the call from the way it echoed across the 1/2 mile of water and resonated as it hit the woods. I thought it odd the cranes which dwelt in Michigan would still be there until I considered that those I heard could have been moving through the area from the arctic to warmer climates for the winter.
The pond was definitely set up for a stop over, with hundreds of Canada Geese, and gulls on the water. Except for a few mating pairs and single stragglers scattered here and there, the ducks were gone. In early to late spring, there were several hundred on the water at that time of the day.
Checked for the Eagles, but saw no evidence.
Interestingly, while traversing the town of Belleville on my way home, Crosswinds Marsh, spotted a Bald Eagle cruising the shoreline of the lake as I neared the bridge. Doubt the other drivers caught at the light, many chatting on their cells, noticed the distinguished visitor.
I had to wonder if one of the Crosswinds eagles had ventured to another body of water in search of food.
Did come across some unexpected visitors, a couple of older pups scrounging in the weeds and muck at the edge of the water. They were obviously familiar with humans, as they didn't run when I approached, but stayed at their business. I hoped they were simply exploring the edge of their range from one of the nearby farms, as opposed to being abandoned in the marsh.
What caught my attention was an odd bird call, from what I thought was a mound of grass, until I realized there were two swans floating off shore not many yards from the dogs. As there seemed to be 40 or more swans on the pond when I usually spotted fewer than 10 on a summer day, I may have spotted some migrating tundra swans stopping by for a rest.
The day in nature was refreshing, not too polluted with humans, until the drive home in stop and go traffic.
I walked the Bald Eagle trail, which circles the main pond for more than 3-miles, inspired in part by the distinct trumpeting of what I thought were Sandhill Cranes off to the west. Couldn't get a visual confirmation of the cranes, but recognized the call from the way it echoed across the 1/2 mile of water and resonated as it hit the woods. I thought it odd the cranes which dwelt in Michigan would still be there until I considered that those I heard could have been moving through the area from the arctic to warmer climates for the winter.
The pond was definitely set up for a stop over, with hundreds of Canada Geese, and gulls on the water. Except for a few mating pairs and single stragglers scattered here and there, the ducks were gone. In early to late spring, there were several hundred on the water at that time of the day.
Checked for the Eagles, but saw no evidence.
Interestingly, while traversing the town of Belleville on my way home, Crosswinds Marsh, spotted a Bald Eagle cruising the shoreline of the lake as I neared the bridge. Doubt the other drivers caught at the light, many chatting on their cells, noticed the distinguished visitor.
I had to wonder if one of the Crosswinds eagles had ventured to another body of water in search of food.
Did come across some unexpected visitors, a couple of older pups scrounging in the weeds and muck at the edge of the water. They were obviously familiar with humans, as they didn't run when I approached, but stayed at their business. I hoped they were simply exploring the edge of their range from one of the nearby farms, as opposed to being abandoned in the marsh.
What caught my attention was an odd bird call, from what I thought was a mound of grass, until I realized there were two swans floating off shore not many yards from the dogs. As there seemed to be 40 or more swans on the pond when I usually spotted fewer than 10 on a summer day, I may have spotted some migrating tundra swans stopping by for a rest.
The day in nature was refreshing, not too polluted with humans, until the drive home in stop and go traffic.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Kensignton Metropark, October 13, 2010
Spent the afternoon wandering on the wooded side of the nature center.
Colors were rich and varied as the maples and oaks started showing the slowing of sap to their extremities.
Was a little disturbed along the deer run trail as the gravel used to make the path created too much noise for my desires. Was too much for the red and fox squirrels, who I could hear chirping and barking in trees along the path. Had a better time at quiet where the leaves began covering the path, muting the grinding of the cinders against each other beneath my feet.
Then, had to wonder whether the walk would be enjoyable if someone didn't forge a path ahead of time, even if paved with cinders.
Wondered about one person I passed, sitting on a bench at a trail intersection staring into space with a hand extended, until I saw a finch settle on the hand to feed.
Don't really know if this is an engagement with nature, as I believe any bird secure enough to approach the smell of a human to feed has been overly domesticated by the presence of humans.
But, then, to each his own.
Deer were under cover, perhaps because starting at 1 p.m. was long after many have tread the trails and startled the foragers back into the deeper cover.
Didn't appreciate running across some plastic wrap, foil, and tissues crumpled along the path. Didn't lend itself to "out in the wilderness alone" knowing there were still pigs around who tossed aside candy bar wrappers and their snotty tissues as they "enjoyed" nature.
Made sure I carried more out of the park and into the trash than I took with me (or worse left behind).
Birds seemed to be pretty active, but that may be because more of the cover they enjoy in deep spring and summer was on the ground.
Knew it was time to leave when I approached another trail, and found another standing statue still with hand extended waiting for birds to perch.
Cute, but I'd rather see them in their own activities instead of the human induced ones.
Colors were rich and varied as the maples and oaks started showing the slowing of sap to their extremities.
Was a little disturbed along the deer run trail as the gravel used to make the path created too much noise for my desires. Was too much for the red and fox squirrels, who I could hear chirping and barking in trees along the path. Had a better time at quiet where the leaves began covering the path, muting the grinding of the cinders against each other beneath my feet.
Then, had to wonder whether the walk would be enjoyable if someone didn't forge a path ahead of time, even if paved with cinders.
Wondered about one person I passed, sitting on a bench at a trail intersection staring into space with a hand extended, until I saw a finch settle on the hand to feed.
Don't really know if this is an engagement with nature, as I believe any bird secure enough to approach the smell of a human to feed has been overly domesticated by the presence of humans.
But, then, to each his own.
Deer were under cover, perhaps because starting at 1 p.m. was long after many have tread the trails and startled the foragers back into the deeper cover.
Didn't appreciate running across some plastic wrap, foil, and tissues crumpled along the path. Didn't lend itself to "out in the wilderness alone" knowing there were still pigs around who tossed aside candy bar wrappers and their snotty tissues as they "enjoyed" nature.
Made sure I carried more out of the park and into the trash than I took with me (or worse left behind).
Birds seemed to be pretty active, but that may be because more of the cover they enjoy in deep spring and summer was on the ground.
Knew it was time to leave when I approached another trail, and found another standing statue still with hand extended waiting for birds to perch.
Cute, but I'd rather see them in their own activities instead of the human induced ones.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Crosswinds Marsh, May 20, 2010
It has been more than a month since I'd visited the Marsh, looking for my Eagles.
Checking the south end of the Marsh, I couldn't confirm that the horned owl remained on the abandoned eagle's nest. Part of the reason may have been Monday's checkup with the eye doctor, who could get me a new prescription for glasses, but couldn't sharpen the sight as I would have liked because cataracts were robbing me of lens area, and thus a sharp focus. Nothing was blocked, but the light gathering area and focus potential for the lens was diminished.
Another part was looking from the walkways to the north rather than journeying toward the outlet for the marsh and viewing the nest from the east, the area where both the photographer pointed out the nest and from where I spent a very cold April day focusing the spotting scope to make out the head.
I would have been satisfied with a "bump" above the nest, but nothing doing.
The Marsh was pretty deserted, two cars ahead of me in the parking lot, with the second a van where the family was just stirring to go for a walk.
I made my way to the over the water ramp, and began the walk swinging first south from the lot and then northward toward the inhabited eagle's nest. Looking at the tree line, I knew spotting the birds on the nest would be tough, since the spring leaves were now obscuring the branches and the nest site.
As I walked the pathway, I noted the waterfowl on the water, the usual Canada geese, and their new greenish goslings, swans, one with a couple of the "ugly ducklings" family, and a couple of egrets. No gulls, herons, or, amazingly, ducks.
In April on an extremely cold and windy day, the water was spotted in all directions with either ducks, wading herons, and what seemed like hundreds of gulls. The only movement now was the waves and an occasional jumping fish and now chimney swifts circling from around the screened house and out over the water in search of the insects which most likely enticed the fish to jump.
Checking the south end of the Marsh, I couldn't confirm that the horned owl remained on the abandoned eagle's nest. Part of the reason may have been Monday's checkup with the eye doctor, who could get me a new prescription for glasses, but couldn't sharpen the sight as I would have liked because cataracts were robbing me of lens area, and thus a sharp focus. Nothing was blocked, but the light gathering area and focus potential for the lens was diminished.
Another part was looking from the walkways to the north rather than journeying toward the outlet for the marsh and viewing the nest from the east, the area where both the photographer pointed out the nest and from where I spent a very cold April day focusing the spotting scope to make out the head.
I would have been satisfied with a "bump" above the nest, but nothing doing.
The Marsh was pretty deserted, two cars ahead of me in the parking lot, with the second a van where the family was just stirring to go for a walk.
I made my way to the over the water ramp, and began the walk swinging first south from the lot and then northward toward the inhabited eagle's nest. Looking at the tree line, I knew spotting the birds on the nest would be tough, since the spring leaves were now obscuring the branches and the nest site.
As I walked the pathway, I noted the waterfowl on the water, the usual Canada geese, and their new greenish goslings, swans, one with a couple of the "ugly ducklings" family, and a couple of egrets. No gulls, herons, or, amazingly, ducks.
In April on an extremely cold and windy day, the water was spotted in all directions with either ducks, wading herons, and what seemed like hundreds of gulls. The only movement now was the waves and an occasional jumping fish and now chimney swifts circling from around the screened house and out over the water in search of the insects which most likely enticed the fish to jump.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Crosswinds Marsh, April 12, 2010
Venturing to the marsh amid mind numbing news reports of Wall Street earning variability, Tea Party faux rallies, and the fragging of a commercial bus by American troops in Afghanistan, I was thankful I had dry weather, and a bright day.
Somehow, the irritations of "common news" from the manipulators could be lost when I exited my car to discover whether a horned owl really had migrated to the abandoned eagle's nest, and the moved eagles remained at their new abode.
Tipped off over the weekend by a fellow nature watcher that a Great Horned Owl had squatted on the abandoned nest, I decided that today was the day to check with my spotting scope.
After parking at the usual spot, I assembled the scope and set it up on a picnic table at the edge of the peninsula containing the parking lot, and spotted a bump above the nest.
Last winter, when I was searching for where the eagles had gone after it became obvious their nest was abandoned, a woman stopped me and noting the binoculars around my neck, reported "the eagle's on the nest" while pointing toward the abandoned abode. Knowing better, having seen the eagles building their new nest that past fall, I simply acknowledged her with what amounted to literate grunts that didn't commit me to revealing my knowledge, and ignored her advice.
Thinking back now, perhaps I should have taken some time to look, because the "bump" she saw and attributed to an eagle, was probably the owl squatting last fall.
As I looked through the scope, I heard some steps beside me, and looked up to find the guy who had been casting plugs into the water from the fishing dock walking by.
"Any luck?" I asked.
I received a treatise on fishing in the park, including counts of bass and pike he reported to have caught from the walkways I had noted were clearly marked with "no fishing" signs, and arms width representations of lengths . . . most of which would be record catches for the state if accurately portrayed.
While wondering at his dedication to the craft, another walked up, preceded by a little dog which raced to and fro in the weeds "looking for muskrats" according to the owner. "Had to toss him into the water," he chuckled. "He was too muddy to put into the truck."
The two ran off into tall fishing tales, as I packed my scope, figuring I'd move down where the second fisherman had come from to see if I'd get a better angle on the bump.
"Well, we have to get going," said the second, as I nodded and shouted, "good luck" while I walked south.
Along the horse trail, I set up, and found the bump, and focused on the two ears -- a great horned owl!
Satisfied that I'd confirmed the discovery reported by the nature lover the weekend past, I packed my scope and walked back to the car, intending on re-rigging for a walk south.
Standing in the parking lot, a half hour after the "have to get going" remark were the same two fishermen, chatting while the formerly muddy dog ranged about them looking for make some mayhem with nature.
I walked by them with my binoculars around my neck to search for evidence the "real" eagles remained on the "real" eagle's nest.
The twiggy bulge appeared in the trees, and after some focus, I found a white head atop a black body sitting on the mass.
The eagle had landed.
Continuing on to check the nest from the east side, I encountered what turned out to be a grandfather and his grand son walking along the path. As I passed, he cursed, "Look at what they did!" and pointed toward a soda can floating in the water. "Look at the worm tubs," he said, pointing into the water at a plastic container floating in the weeds.
"They're pigs," I said. "They don't care about the park."
"I do," he said, opening his vest and showing me a couple of cans and some crushed paper in his pocket.
"Can't clean up for all of them."
Grateful at finding another nature lover who cared about undoing the damage others had done, I told him the secret of the "new" eagle's nest, figuring the youngster may be able to spot the birds along with him.
When I spotted the nest as I walked south, I shouted back to him, "You can spot it from here," while I pointed in the direction of the nest. He shouted thanks, and we separated as the youngster twaddled in the weeds, and I moved out to my next viewing location.
What started as a day of gloom and doom, dupes, thieves and murders dominating the news, ended with some gradual appreciation of the world around me, and those I encountered.
Each had their own reason for being in the open areas, but none had an agenda leading to control, greed or death.
In all it was a good day.
Somehow, the irritations of "common news" from the manipulators could be lost when I exited my car to discover whether a horned owl really had migrated to the abandoned eagle's nest, and the moved eagles remained at their new abode.
Tipped off over the weekend by a fellow nature watcher that a Great Horned Owl had squatted on the abandoned nest, I decided that today was the day to check with my spotting scope.
After parking at the usual spot, I assembled the scope and set it up on a picnic table at the edge of the peninsula containing the parking lot, and spotted a bump above the nest.
Last winter, when I was searching for where the eagles had gone after it became obvious their nest was abandoned, a woman stopped me and noting the binoculars around my neck, reported "the eagle's on the nest" while pointing toward the abandoned abode. Knowing better, having seen the eagles building their new nest that past fall, I simply acknowledged her with what amounted to literate grunts that didn't commit me to revealing my knowledge, and ignored her advice.
Thinking back now, perhaps I should have taken some time to look, because the "bump" she saw and attributed to an eagle, was probably the owl squatting last fall.
As I looked through the scope, I heard some steps beside me, and looked up to find the guy who had been casting plugs into the water from the fishing dock walking by.
"Any luck?" I asked.
I received a treatise on fishing in the park, including counts of bass and pike he reported to have caught from the walkways I had noted were clearly marked with "no fishing" signs, and arms width representations of lengths . . . most of which would be record catches for the state if accurately portrayed.
While wondering at his dedication to the craft, another walked up, preceded by a little dog which raced to and fro in the weeds "looking for muskrats" according to the owner. "Had to toss him into the water," he chuckled. "He was too muddy to put into the truck."
The two ran off into tall fishing tales, as I packed my scope, figuring I'd move down where the second fisherman had come from to see if I'd get a better angle on the bump.
"Well, we have to get going," said the second, as I nodded and shouted, "good luck" while I walked south.
Along the horse trail, I set up, and found the bump, and focused on the two ears -- a great horned owl!
Satisfied that I'd confirmed the discovery reported by the nature lover the weekend past, I packed my scope and walked back to the car, intending on re-rigging for a walk south.
Standing in the parking lot, a half hour after the "have to get going" remark were the same two fishermen, chatting while the formerly muddy dog ranged about them looking for make some mayhem with nature.
I walked by them with my binoculars around my neck to search for evidence the "real" eagles remained on the "real" eagle's nest.
The twiggy bulge appeared in the trees, and after some focus, I found a white head atop a black body sitting on the mass.
The eagle had landed.
Continuing on to check the nest from the east side, I encountered what turned out to be a grandfather and his grand son walking along the path. As I passed, he cursed, "Look at what they did!" and pointed toward a soda can floating in the water. "Look at the worm tubs," he said, pointing into the water at a plastic container floating in the weeds.
"They're pigs," I said. "They don't care about the park."
"I do," he said, opening his vest and showing me a couple of cans and some crushed paper in his pocket.
"Can't clean up for all of them."
Grateful at finding another nature lover who cared about undoing the damage others had done, I told him the secret of the "new" eagle's nest, figuring the youngster may be able to spot the birds along with him.
When I spotted the nest as I walked south, I shouted back to him, "You can spot it from here," while I pointed in the direction of the nest. He shouted thanks, and we separated as the youngster twaddled in the weeds, and I moved out to my next viewing location.
What started as a day of gloom and doom, dupes, thieves and murders dominating the news, ended with some gradual appreciation of the world around me, and those I encountered.
Each had their own reason for being in the open areas, but none had an agenda leading to control, greed or death.
In all it was a good day.
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