Waning Days of Color

September 2023

A few days ago, I visited the Paw Paw Prairie Fen Preserve in Mattawan, Michigan, one of our local nature areas. It’s a beautiful preserve with a well-maintained 1.5 mile trail that meanders through wild flowers, trees, ponds, and tall prairie grasses. The land is owned and maintained by The Nature Conservancy, a global environmental nonprofit organization.

**BOTTLEBRUSH GRASS**
Bottlebrush grass is a perennial grass native to the eastern United States and Canada. Bottlebrush Grass gets its name from the spiky seed heads that look just like the brush used to clean bottles,

“In 2004, this site was slated for a housing development. Topsoil had been removed, road routes had been laid out and neighborhood landscaping was being installed. The Nature Conservancy was alerted to rare wetland communities here and began negotiations to acquire the land. Today The Nature Conservancy owns 106 acres along the east branch of the Paw Paw River, including rare prairie fens, and a beautiful array of prairie plants and wildlife.” (from the descriptive sign at the entrance of the preserve)

**JOE PYE WEED**
This plant was likely named for Joseph Shauquethqueat, a highly-respected Mohican sachem or paramount chief, also known to white neighbors as Joe Pye, who lived in the Mohican community in Stockbridge, Massachusetts in the late 1700’s to early 1800’s. Joe Pye weed has a long history of medicinal use, including as a diuretic, for easing urinary tract issues, joint stiffness, and gout. It is also used to treat reproductive issues and diabetes.

I started my picture walk at 2:30 in the afternoon hoping to eventually catch the late afternoon sun. For the first hour and a half, I saw virtually nothing to photograph, except for a few random plants, and an untold number of autumn meadowhawk dragonflies. I had been hoping for butterflies and birds, and a much wider variety of dragonflies. I had even hoped to find a praying mantis or two. But there were only the meadowhawks, and a few interesting plants to entertain me.

**AUTUMN MEADOWHAWK**
The autumn meadowhawk is a bright red or yellow dragonfly that has yellow legs. It lingers longer through the summer season than most dragonflies.

Autumn meadowhawks, as the name implies, are most active from late summer through fall, and are abundant in open meadows or prairies like the one I was in. They are often the last dragonflies you will see as the colder weather sets in. If there hasn’t been a hard freeze, it’s even possible to find them in November!

**AMERICAN GOLDFINCH**
Goldfinches are among the strictest vegetarians in the bird world, selecting an entirely vegetable diet and only inadvertently swallowing an occasional insect.

At the ninety minute mark, I finally spotted something other than a meadowhawk– a praying mantis! There were probably hundreds of them hidden in the grasses all around me, but praying mantids are particularly well-camouflaged and extremely hard to find! I was thrilled that this one was out in the open and clinging to the underside of a stalk of goldenrod. The most fascinating thing about this insect is its ability to rotate its heads 180 degrees! No other insect can do this, and it’s particularly creepy to zoom in on one and find it staring back at you from over its shoulder!

**PRAYING MANTIS**
The praying mantis is so named because when waiting for prey, it holds its
front legs in an upright position as if they are folded in prayer. Don’t be fooled
by its angelic pose, however, because the mantid is a deadly predator!

While I was watching the praying mantis, a small bird flew across my peripheral field and landed in a distant tree. It wasn’t close enough for a good picture, but I took a few quick shots anyway so that I could identify it later. The bird turned out to be an Eastern Wood-Peewee; an olive-gray bird with dark wings and an off-white belly. It’s bigger than a Black-capped Chickadee but smaller than an Eastern Bluebird.

**EASTERN WOOD PEEWEE**
The Eastern Wood-Pewee’s plaintive song of three sliding notes (*pee-a-weeeee*) is distinctive and easy to learn. (This photo was taken on a different walk.)

Thirty minutes later, I came across my best surprise of the day, a ruby-throated hummingbird! They are usually on the move and hard to capture, but this one landed on a branch and sat for a spell.

**RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD**
The extremely short legs of the ruby-throated hummingbird prevent it from walking or hopping. The best it can do is shuffle along a perch.

Once the hummingbird flew off, I continued down the path and found my first and only monarch for the day perched on a lovely stand of deep purple ironweed—the perfect plant for a monarch photo! Later, a great spangled fritillary came along and landed on the very same plant! Ironweed is an absolute butterfly magnet! The clusters of hairy purple to pink flowers are irresistible to pollinators, especially swallowtails and monarchs.

**MONARCH BUTTERFLY ON IRONWEED**
White spots on monarch butterfly wings may help them fly better during long migration from Canada to Mexico, new research shows. These spots are believed to alter the airflow patterns around the monarch’s wings, enhancing their flight efficiency. Remarkably, monarchs are the only insects known to embark on such an extensive journey.

**GREAT SPANGLED FRITILLARY ON IRONWEED**
Great spangled fritillaries are relatively large butterflies with a wingspan of 2 to 4 inches and a length of 3.5 to almost 4 inches!

I had a hard time pulling myself away from the butterflies, but there was a small pond nearby and I had noticed cedar waxwings there earlier in my walk. They had been flying back and forth across the pond catching insects. This time of year, cedar waxwings supplement their fruity diet with protein-rich insects like mayflies, dragonflies, and stoneflies, which they often catch on the wing.

**CEDAR WAXWING**
The name “waxwing” comes from the waxy red secretions found on the tips of the secondaries of some birds. The exact function of these tips is not known, but they may help attract mates.

Three hours into my slow, rambling walk, I was ready to head back to my car, but there was one more surprise waiting for me– a very, very tiny American copper butterfly that only flies about two feet above the ground. The upperside of its forewings are a bright copper color with black spots and a gray border. The hindwings are grayish-brown with a copper border. It’s quite a pretty little butterfly when you can see it close-up.

All through the fen, I kept thinking about the changes that were taking place around me; all the beautiful flowers that were already fading away, all the colorful birds and insects that had already left or would soon be leaving, and all the green, leafy trees that would soon be barren.

**FEMALE EASTERN TIGER SWALLOWTAIL**
There was one eastern tiger swallowtail that flew by but it didn’t stop for a picture. This one was taken on a previous picture walk.

It’s not that I dread the changing of the seasons or the coming of winter; I’ll still be traipsing about in the snow looking for a another pretty picture. But I’ll miss the rich variety of birds and insects, and the huge palette of colors that spring and summer throw across the landscape. I always have.

**GRAY CATBIRD**
The catbirds were chattering in the trees around me but never came out for a picture. This picture is from a previous walk.

In Pursuit of Wonder

July 21, 2023

Every time I set out on a picture walk, I wonder what I’ll find. I wonder if I’ll see something new, or something interesting, or something particularly beautiful. It doesn’t need to be a bald eagle, or a rare insect, or a breathtaking sunrise —although those things are certainly welcome; I mostly enjoy the pursuit of wonder, and the challenge of capturing just the right photo at just the right moment. I am as easily excited about finding a tiny snail on a stalk of a dead plant as I am about finding an exquisite bird I rarely see. It’s the pursuit itself that never grows old, and pushes me out the door every day.

A small Eastern Heath Snail that could easily go unnoticed

Not long ago, I was house-sitting for a friend in a part of our state that I rarely visit. She lives on a seldom-traveled, unpaved country road that quietly meanders into the beautiful and expansive Manistee National Forest. I ventured out on that road early one morning wondering what I might find. The deep shade along the forest road was a welcome relief from the heat, but I wasn’t sure that it would be a good place for pictures. There just wasn’t much light peeking through the trees, except for small patches here and there where the occasional butterfly would land, and the columbines struggled to find sunlight.

The narrow gravel road into the Manistee National Forest

I was captivated by the sound of all the birds singing throughout the forest; their voices echoing melodically through the giant cathedral of trees. One of those birds was louder and more insistent than all the others and I wondered who it might be. Fortunately, Merlin* came to my rescue and identified the mystery vocalist as an ovenbird!

I had never seen or heard an ovenbird before, so I stood quietly on the edge of the road, waiting for any movement in the trees, hoping to get a glimpse of one. It didn’t take long, but the setting was so dark, and the bird moved so quickly, that I didn’t think I’d get a decent shot. Eventually, though, my patience paid off.

When I did some research on this elusive little bird, I was fascinated to find out that ovenbirds are smaller than sparrows, and they will only breed where there are large, undisturbed expanses of mature trees and a closed canopy. The forest canopy needs to be so dense that it severely inhibits underbrush from developing on the forest floor, and allows for a deep layer of leaf litter to accumulate. Ovenbirds spend most of their time foraging in that leaf litter looking for things to eat like crickets, caterpillars, ants, spiders, slugs, and snails. They also need leaf litter to build their nests. This task is left to the female ovenbird who creates a comfy home on the forest floor using dead leaves, grasses, stems, bark, and hair. The finished dome-shaped nest, at 9 inches wide and 5 inches deep, has a squat oval side entrance and resembles a primitive outdoor oven, which is how this bird got its name!

An Ovenbird in the leaf litter with a tasty snack

Halfway through my walk, I came to a wide-open field at the edge of the forest, where an odd-looking bird flew overhead and landed on the top of a utility pole! Even from a distance, it didn’t look like a bird that would normally land on a tall, skinny pole! With long legs, a long neck, and a thin, straight bill, it had the appearance of a fairly typical shorebird. Luckily, the bird on the pole was singing its heart out and Merlin* quickly identified it as an Upland Sandpiper. This particular shorebird, however, loves the prairies, pastures, and croplands rather than the wetlands where its cousins like to hang out! It is also a shorebird that loves to perch on fence posts and perform memorable flight songs over its territories! This bird was behaving true to form!

The long-legged, long-necked Upland Sandpiper on a utility pole!

On my return trip through the forest, I had one more surprise waiting for me– a barred owl! It landed on a branch not far from where I was walking and posed for a few pictures before flying off. Even though barred owls are plentiful in Michigan, this was my first!

In between these discoveries, there were butterflies and wildflowers quietly going about their business in the random patches of sunlight, waiting patiently to be noticed, and I obliged.

It was just another ordinary day of small but incredible wonders that, more often than not, go completely unnoticed.

*Merlin is a free bird identification app

Boundary Waters

June 2023

Mel and I just returned from a five-day canoe trip to the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota. I had no idea just how immense, remote, and picturesque this area of our country was. According to the Explore Minnesota website, it is “…one of America’s most beautiful and remote places. Its vast wilderness extends 150 miles along the U.S.-Canada border, covering approximately 1,098,000 acres with over 1,100 lakes and 1,500 miles of canoe routes…” What a wonderful place to explore!

Sheril and Scott on a misty morning paddle

When our friends Scott and Sheril asked if we would like to join them on their canoeing adventure to the Boundary Waters, we were eager to give it a try. Mel and I both had previous experience canoeing (albeit leisurely), and lots of experience hiking, sleeping outdoors, and going without creature comforts for months on end. (In 2015, at ages 68 and 61, we had spent four months hiking 1,000 miles of the Appalachian Trail.)

I am now 76 years old, and Mel is 69. We are in good health, and in reasonably good shape, but this trip called for one or the other of us to carry a 17-foot, 45-pound canoe over our head along portages that could be a mile long. I was quite sure that it wouldn’t be prudent for me to carry that canoe, but I also worried about Mel. My balance isn’t as good as it once was, and Mel has been experiencing periodic back and shoulder pain. So, before leaving on our trip, Mel hefted Scott’s canoe over his head to see if it was within the realm of possibilities. It was! But, Mel was standing on flat ground, and only for a short time. The trail conditions we later faced along the portages were rocky, mucky, long, and sometimes steep. Plus, there were hordes of hungry mosquitoes! It was a lot harder than we expected!

Mighty Sheril (age 64!) carrying one of our canoes (photo by Scott)

The mighty explorers dressed for mosquitoes!

After portaging the canoes from point A to point B, there would also be two or three more trips back and forth to fetch our heavy packs loaded with clothing, tents, and sleeping bags; plus a huge bear canister stuffed full of food and cooking equipment– and all the paddles and life jackets. It was a bit of a challenge!

Once we were back on the water, the views were spectacular! Mile after mile of crystal-clear water with thousands of magnificent trees hugging the entire shoreline. No cell towers. No houses. No motorboats. When we stopped paddling, the sound of silence was profound.

In the early morning hours, and late into the evening when we sat around the campfire, that profound silence would periodically be broken by the haunting, evocative call of the loons, or the sweet, melodic whistle of the white-throated sparrows hiding in the nearby trees.

There were many things about this trip that were difficult, but I enjoyed the challenge, and the sense of accomplishment when we finished. I particularly cherished the time we had to spend together around the campfire; to sit and visit, to read, or to just listen to the quiet. I loved stepping outside my tent on the darkest of nights to find a million of the brightest stars I have ever seen. It took my breath away.

Many, many thanks to our dear friends Scott and Sheril who not only planned this adventure into the wild but also had the experience and the skill-set to guide us through the Boundary Waters safely; to portage our canoe for us when needed, and to creatively change course so that there would be fewer portages and more time in camp.

Mel, Sheril, Scott and Jeanne before our adventure

Mel, Jeanne, Sheril and Scott at the end of our journey

What an amazing trip!

OUTTAKES!

Scott sending a message to our kids using a Garmin Inreach mini to let them know when we were safely in camp each night. It also had an SOS feature if we needed it.

On the Road Again

June 5, 2023

We just returned from our first real get-away adventure in almost three years. For the better part of the last three years, we had stayed close to home waiting for the pandemic to end. When it was mostly over, and we were ready to travel, our aging dog could no longer go with us or stay in a kennel. She needed a great deal of care. On April 18^th of this year, we had to say our final goodbyes. It was a bittersweet moment in time. After a stressful, isolating pandemic and a heart-wrenching year of doggie hospice, we needed to cut loose.

Our dear, little dog, Brandy who had a long, slow decline.

We headed out to the Driftless Area of Wisconsin. My husband, Mel, had registered to attend a Tenkara fishing get-together/campout near Westby, Wisconsin and I tagged along to take pictures. After three years of home-grown subject matter, I was eager to explore a new environment.

**A beautiful columbine growing along the roadside**

The Driftless area is approximately 8500 square miles of land, mostly in Southwest Wisconsin, that was untouched by glaciers during the last ice age. The term “driftless” indicates a lack of glacial drift, the deposits of silt, gravel, and rock that retreating glaciers leave behind. As a result, the landscape is characterized by steep, limestone-based hills, spring fed waterfalls, deeply carved river valleys, and the largest concentration of cold-water trout streams in the world! It was a perfect place for Mel to go Tenkara fishing.

Tenkara is a method of fly fishing that originated in the mountains of Japan. It uses very long rods with fixed lengths of casting line attached to the rod-tip, and simple, wet flies as lures. This method of fishing was developed to catch trout in free-flowing rivers like the ones found in the Driftless Areas of Wisconsin. I don’t fish, but I was happy enough to go wandering down the back roads near where Mel was fishing to look for birds, butterflies, dragonflies, and flowers; but not GNATS!

Those little buggers came at me with a vengeance! They were in my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. They were on my sweaty skin. They landed wherever they could find moisture! Gnats are drawn to the carbon dioxide we exhale, as well as the sweet, fruity smells of our shampoos and lotions. There’s no way to get away from them! I was just one giant, sweet-smelling moisture buffet!

**Deer on the edge of the road who was curious about my presence**

I hustled back to the car as fast as I could to see if my insect repellent Buff would help. (https://www.buff.com/us/insect-shieldr-neckwear) A Buff is a long tube of thin material that you can pull over your head to cover everything but your eyes. My eyes were protected, at least somewhat, by my glasses. The Buff was a tremendous help; it allowed me take pictures, but it didn’t stop all the gnats who really wanted to get me from crawling into my Buff or going behind my glasses! I did have bug repellent on, but it was no match for these guys! Later, we went to a store and found a repellent that was recommended for gnats and it seemed to work for about an hour before needing to be replenished. It was a welcome relief!

**Me and my Buff fending off the gnats!!**

In spite of the gnats, and the unseasonably hot temperatures, it was good to be on the road again; to engage in our favorite hobbies in a new environment, to sleep outside in our tent and hear the barred owls calling, “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you?” and to wake up in the morning to the sound of birds filling the air with their joyful noise. It was a welcome respite from the unwelcome ‘noise’ in our everyday lives.

**Dot-tailed White-faced dragonfly in the obelisk position to cool off**

In just a few days, we’ll be on the road again; to the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota for a five-day canoe trip with friends.

Can’t wait!

**Great Blue Heron overhead (note the shadow of its head on the lower wing!)**

**A teeny tiny Ruby-throated Hummingbird high up on a utility wire!**

**Snapping Turtle feasting on the tadpoles**

The Best Day Ever

May 4, 2023

It was the best day ever– as good or better than all the other best days I’ve ever had taking pictures! After a long, cold, Michigan winter, and a wet, dreary spring, I was more than ready for a warm, sunny day. But it didn’t start out warm, or sunny. At seven o’clock in the morning, it was only 39 degrees and overcast. I had left the house thinking it was going to get warmer much faster than it did, and hadn’t dressed appropriately! Standing still taking pictures was bone-chilling cold. By mid-afternoon, though, the temperature had climbed to a blissful 65 degrees and I wrapped myself up in all its warmth.

**American Robin: The first thing to greet me this morning**

This particular picture walk started out down by the creek behind our house shortly after sunrise. I was hoping to get some good reflection shots of our resident wood ducks swimming along on the perfectly still waters, but it’s hard to catch a wood duck! They swim off in the opposite direction as soon as they catch a glimpse of me! Today, though, I was lucky. Either they didn’t notice I was there, or they didn’t care, and I took more than enough pictures to keep me happy—at least for a while!

After an hour or so of wood ducks, I continued along a path that followed the creek into our nearby woods hoping to find yellow warblers or kinglets. The kinglets ultimately cooperated, but the warblers did not. I love finding kinglets, but they are an extremely challenging bird to photograph as they flit non-stop from one well-hidden branch to another. I took dozens of shots before pulling myself away and heading home for lunch.

Within an hour, I was off again to another small creek and more pictures! This creek, like the one behind our house, widens to form a small pond, and is an excellent place to find a wide variety of birds. To the naked eye, though, it often seems as if the pond has nothing much to offer. With a telephoto lens, or a good pair of binoculars, a whole new world can open up!

I have visited this pond many, many times over the years, but it wasn’t until fairly recently that I discovered the very best place to get good, clear pictures of the birds on the water. Unfortunately, that ‘very best place’ comes with a modicum of anxiety.

In order to access my ‘very best place’, I have to go behind a small, private business along a very busy road. Once behind the building, I have to walk up their back steps to an attached deck where I quietly park myself under their lovely gazebo at the edge of the water. Every time I use this spot, which isn’t often, I fully expect someone to come out of the building and ask me to leave, or to at least ask me what I’m up to!

No one ever does.

Today, however, I really, really wanted someone to come out!! I wanted somebody to ask me what I was doing so I could show them all the beautiful birds they were missing, like the Northern shoveler, the blue-winged teal, the gadwall, the hooded merganser, and the magnificent green heron catching a fish! I wanted to show them the hundreds of turtles sunning themselves on the rocks and logs, and I wanted them to hear the orchestra of birds playing right outside their back door!

But no one ever came.

**A beautiful Green Heron waiting to pounce on a fish!**

I was grateful, though, as I always am, to have this little slice of heaven to myself, to not be extricated from my perch, and to find so many beautiful creatures to photograph!

**Two Canada Geese and a slew of Painted Turtles sunning themselves**

It really was the best day ever!

A Dog Named Norman

April 10, 2023

One of the many joys of a picture walk is never knowing what I’ll find or who I’ll meet along the way. Yesterday, I met a dog named Norman. It brought a smile to my face. Why would anyone name a dog, Norman, I wondered? It seemed like a very formal moniker for such a small, scruffy little beast. So, I posed the question to the human attached to the other end of the leash, “Why Norman?”

“Well,” she said, “I named him after my dad who recently passed away.”

**White-tailed deer, a common visitor on my walks**

That was even funnier, I thought, to name a dog after your dead parent, but I kept my chuckle to myself. Instead, I shared the fact that my own father was also deceased and was also named Norman! For the life of me, though, I couldn’t even imagine naming a dog after my dead parent! It just didn’t seem right–and it conjured up an unappealing visual in my head of walking my dad on a leash and cleaning up all his messes!

Earlier in the day, long before I met up with Norman, I had been walking along the creek behind our house hoping to find a wood duck in the early morning light. I expected one to swim out from the cattails along the bank, but it splashed down suddenly in the water next to me and jolted me out of my quiet reverie! Later, I was pleasantly surprised to find a female northern shoveler and a male blue-winged teal swimming in close proximity to the newly-arrived wood duck. What a great find! Both the shoveler and the teal are rare visitors to our creek!

Once the early morning light started to change, and no longer had that soft golden glow, I wandered through the woods adjacent to the creek and headed over to a nearby preserve where I hoped to find a loon. I had never seen a loon here in Michigan, but knew that one had recently been spotted on the lake at the preserve and hoped I’d get a picture!

It took me awhile to find the loon. It’s not a very colorful bird, and it does have a habit of swimming rather low in the water. Even on a relatively small body of water, like the one I was visiting, loons can be difficult to spot.

**The painted turtles were out in droves!**

While I had my camera focused on the loon, something in my peripheral vision distracted me. It was an Osprey flying towards me on the left with a good-sized fish in its talons!! I turned to take its picture and didn’t have time to change the settings on my camera. I just started shooting as fast as I could and hoping for the best! In photography, this method of shooting is often called ‘spray and pray!’ Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But it’s always worth a try.

**My ‘spray and pray’ shot of the Osprey with the fish!**

As I continued walking around the lake, I was delighted to find two great blue herons in relatively close proximity to one other! I’ve never seen two blue herons at the same time except at a rookery. A short time later, I spotted a third!

One of the birds that never takes me by surprise is the Canada goose! It’s absolutely everywhere, but quite easy to overlook as a desirable photography subject. Even the most mundane of subjects, like the Canada goose, though, can make for a beautiful photograph given the right circumstances and a little bit of ingenuity. If nothing else, Canada geese are great subjects for practicing one’s photography skills; they’re not hard to find, they’re easier to photograph than smaller, flightier birds, and they really are stunning in their own right.

**Canada Goose in peaceful repose only a few feet from where I was taking pictures of the wood duck**

**A busy little muskrat taking a snack break along the edge of Asylum Lake**

On this particularly warm spring day, I also saw swans, turtles, grackles, and one very busy muskrat chewing away on something tasty; totally oblivious to my presence. Up in the trees surrounding the lake, there was a musical assortment of robins, chickadees, bluebirds, red-winged blackbirds, golden-crowned kinglets, yellow-rumped warblers, and one little brown creeper scurrying up a tree.

**Little** **Brown Creeper** **scurrying up a tree**

I always head out on these picture walks wondering what kinds of surprises I’ll find or who I’ll meet along the way. Yesterday, my best surprise was the osprey with the fish, but the funniest surprise was the dog named Norman, and the story of his name. I’m still smiling!

Waiting for Spring

February 22, 2023

On February 12th, I saw my first red-winged blackbird for the season! It seemed too early, I thought. I didn’t expect them to return until March. Within a week, though, I heard a whole chorus of red-winged blackbirds singing in the cattails down by the creek behind our house. It’s the quintessential sound of spring and I love it! I wanted to throw open all our windows and soak up that first glimmer of hope that spring would soon be here in earnest.

**Backyard Blue Jay in the early morning light**

But as I write this, I’m snuggled up in front of a fire, with a hot cup of tea close by, hoping we won’t lose power during the upcoming ice storm. All the schools are closed, and so are many businesses, hoping to avoid disaster. The ice storm might materialize, it might not. Such are the vagaries of winter in Michigan: one day it feels like spring, and the next day it feels like we’re living in Antarctica.

**Canada Goose making a dramatic landing on the ice!**

I basically have a love/hate relationship with winter. I love the snow, but hate the long overcast days that bring the snow. I love getting pictures of all the winter birds that migrate through Michigan, but hate all the layers and layers of clothing I have to wear to get those pictures. I love a bright, sunny winter day as an antidote to all the gloomy ones, but it’s hard to get a good picture on a brilliant sunny afternoon against a snowy background.

**A happy looking female Mallard on a cold winter day in Michigan**

Most of all, I miss the colors and all the warm-weather critters I love to photograph, like the big yellow butterflies, the swampy green frogs, the multitudes of colorful dragonflies, and the iridescent blue swallowtails that nest under the bridge in a nearby park.

**Male Hooded Merganser on a layover through Michigan**

Before the pandemic and before we had an aging, incontinent dog to care for, we went to Florida for a few months where I could soak up all the colors and all the interesting critters we never see in Michigan. I have taken pictures of the majestic roseate spoonbills, the brilliant purple gallinules, the pastel pink dragonflies, and a million different Florida flowers! It’s a wonderland of color that I had come to depend on to get me through the drab days of a Michigan winter.

In the meantime, I have been out looking for whatever beauty I can find wherever I can find it, and taking lots of pictures. Whether it’s a chickadee in a snowstorm, a woodpecker on a sunny day, a snow-covered deer in our backyard, or a ubiquitous brown fox squirrel peeking out around a tree in the early morning light, it’s all good, and it’s all fun.

**White-tailed deer right outside our back door**

I just wish winter didn’t last so long!

Childhood Memories

January 25, 2023

A friend of mine, Jen Herro, recently posted her first blog, A Carpenter’s Garden, and it struck a chord with me. She is a watercolor artist with a passion for the natural world. Our lives first became entwined when Jen asked if she could use one of the photographs I had posted on The Naturalist’s Notebook Facebook page as a reference piece for one of her paintings. We have never met in person, but through our shared passion for nature and art, it feels as if we’ve been friends forever.

In her introductory post, Jen tells about how her love for the outdoors began in childhood while visiting her grandparents’ cabin in the big north woods of Minnesota. Her grandfather, a naturalist, taught her how to “appreciate the wildness of the land,” how to paddle a canoe, start a campfire and make baked beans in a pot buried in the ground. It sounded like an idyllic childhood, and it made me wonder where my own love for the outdoors had come from.

**Mute Swan Cygnet during a recent snowstorm**

I didn’t have a grandfather who taught me how to canoe or build campfires, but I did have a dad who took me fishing. He was also the person who gently told my mother to “let her be” when I wanted to climb trees, play baseball, and wear blue jeans. Her preference would have been to see me in dresses, playing with dolls, and not running amok through puddles!

**Six year old me worried about holding a fish I recently caught**

My parents did make one grand and loving attempt at giving my brother and I outdoor experiences, though, by taking us camping.

We left home on a hot and humid summer day during the biggest mosquito convention ever, and drove ‘up north’ to find a campsite, pitch a tent, and spend a fun weekend away from home! Mother Nature had other plans. She wanted rain, lots of rain–so much rain that our borrowed tent leaked like a sieve. We were miserable.

**American Robin enjoying berries during our Michigan winter**

I don’t remember going on any nature hikes that weekend, roasting marshmallows, or fishing with my dad, but I do remember slogging through the rain and mud with my nature-weary mother at 2:00 in the morning hoping to find an outhouse! That’s what stayed with me all these years, the rain and the outhouse! It wasn’t the camping experience any of us had hoped for, but it was, nonetheless, memorable!

**Red-breasted Nuthatch at our peanut feeder**

**A sweet white-tailed deer in our backyard**

So, it’s probably safe to say that my love of the outdoors didn’t come from my parents or even my grandparents, at least not in the way that it did for Jen.

What I had was the joy of growing up during the 1950s, when we spent our summer days playing outside with friends, climbing trees, catching bugs, looking for snakes, and exploring the nearby woods. We didn’t have cell phones or iPads to keep us entertained; we barely had a television! What we did have was each other, and the wide-open spaces of our neighborhood, and the nearby parks. The true origins of my interest in Mother Nature remains a mystery, but the freedom I had as a kid to spend all day exploring and interacting with her, kept the love alive.

**Belted Kingfisher during a recent snowfall**

**Black-capped Chickadee in our backyard**

As an adult, I’ve mostly chosen outdoor adventure vacations, rather than leisurely indoor ones. My husband and I have hiked in Scotland, England and Wales, and have backpacked more than a thousand miles on the Appalachian Trail. We’ve also enjoyed a good deal of biking, canoeing, and kayaking along the way. But it wasn’t until I took up photography a few years ago, that the natural world really opened up for me. I found birds I’d never seen before, took close-ups of butterflies I’d only known from a distance, and examined the details of a thousand little dragonflies that only a good camera and a long lens could afford me.

A bird I’d never seen before! (some sort of Mallard Hybrid)

**Eastern Tiger Swallowtail on Butterfly Bush (taken last summer)**

It doesn’t really matter where my love of nature ultimately came from, whether it was a father who took me fishing, or a mother who just let me be, I have reaped its benefits my entire life. The countless hours I have spent outdoors have always brought me joy; being able to photograph what I love has been an unexpected bonus!

Winter Morning Musings

December 27, 2022

As I sit here in the early morning darkness on a late December day with a hot cup of tea in my hand and a toasty fire in front of me, I’m thinking back to the warmer, brighter days of summer where I would have already left the house by now; where I would have had my camera slung across my shoulder as I rushed out the door, not wanting to miss that “golden hour” of photography just past sunrise. This time of year, though, there’s absolutely no need to rush. The sun won’t rise for another two hours and the golden hour (if the sun comes out at all), won’t happen for at least three!

Pileated Woodpecker during the ‘golden hour’ just before sunset

Male and female Mallards during the morning ‘golden hour’

Female Ruddy Duck and a male Gadwall during an evening ‘golden hour’

We haven’t seen much of the sun this December. In fact, it’s been “mostly cloudy” or totally overcast every single day. When the forecast calls for partly cloudy skies rather than mostly cloudy, I’m elated! It means there will be at least a few moments of sunshine to enjoy during the day! But then I wondered: if there’s sunshine to be had on a partly cloudy day, what’s the definition of partly sunny day? According to the National Weather Service, they’re exactly the same thing! If I ran the circus, it would always be called a partly sunny day –a much happier outlook than cloudy!

Male Green-winged Teal during a morning ‘golden hour’ and a Northern Flicker during an evening ‘golden hour’

Even on the sunniest of winter days, though, taking pictures is never easy, especially when it’s bitterly cold and the temperatures fall into the single digits, like they did this past week during our “blizzard of the century.” One day it was only 3 degrees above zero with a wind chill of minus 17! I went outside anyway, mostly to see if I could stay warm enough under multiple layers of clothing and still propel myself forward!

Testing the elements: Wind Chill minus 17 degrees!!

On that particularly frigid day, I went for a walk without my camera just to see how it would feel. Surprisingly, I was so hot under all those layers that I worked up a sweat! It wasn’t so much the multiple layers of clothing that made me hot, but the act of walking. If I had been standing still taking pictures, I would not have stayed warm for very long! Luckily, whenever I do get the urge to take pictures on a bitterly cold day, I can just step out our back door, take a few shots, and pop back in as soon as I get cold. There’s plenty of wildlife right outside our door to keep me entertained for hours.

“Eh, what’s up, Doc?” (One of our backyard visitors)

Male and female Northern Cardinals in our backyard

The Red Squirrels provide plenty of entertainment on a daily basis!

Most of the time I can keep my body quite warm, but my fingers eventually freeze. I’ve tried a wide variety of mittens and gloves with varying degrees of success, but any mittens thick enough to keep my fingers from freezing, are too thick to operate the tiny buttons on a camera! It’s a frustrating dilemma that I’ve been trying to solve for quite some time.

I thought these Canada Geese looked beautiful in the late afternoon sun!

Female Dark-eyed Junco and a male House Finch in our yard.

Great Blue Heron on a fishing expedition over the open ponds at a local fish hatchery

A few years ago, I started adding hand warmers to my pockets. They were a really big help initially, but none of them ever stayed warm enough, long enough to keep me happy. So, I went online to research what other outdoor enthusiasts were using and ultimately ordered a pair of Ocoopa Rechargeable Hand Warmers that would reportedly stay hot for 15 hours!! They will arrive just in time for an unseasonably warm break in the weather and a dismal forecast of rain. Perfect timing!

Female Common Goldeneye and a male Hooded Merganser

I love the challenge of winter photography and all the unique picture opportunities it affords, but I really miss all the colors, and all the creatures, and all the different ways that taking pictures in the warmer months is so much easier!!

Another one of the beautiful deer in our backyard

American Tree Sparrow on a very snowy day

Male Northern Pintail and a male Red-breasted Nuthatch

Most of all, I miss the sunshine—and my warm fingers.

Find the Joy

November 21, 2022

“If you choose not to find joy in the snow, you will have less joy in your life but still the same amount of snow.” Anonymous

I love this quote– and the snow!

The Carolina Wren sings a very joyful song

It’s hard not to feel a certain child-like wonder when the first big flakes of snow fall from the sky and transform our world into a winter wonderland. I love sitting by the fire with a hot cup of tea in my hands watching the snow pile up outside our window and marveling at the little songbirds as they fluff up their feathers to ward off the cold. I’d like to invite them in for a while to warm up. Instead, I put on three layers of pants, three shirts, a balaclava, a fuzzy hat, a down coat, a neck warmer, mittens, and boots, and join them, camera in hand.

Black-capped Chickadee and a Fox Sparrow fluffed up against the cold!

American Robin on a snowy day enjoying a crabapple tree

For the last several days, the snow has been falling almost non-stop! The birds don’t seem to mind, though, and are flitting about everywhere, enjoying the easy source of food in our feeders and occasionally taking sips of warm water from the birdbath. I’ve taken hundreds of pictures of them hoping to find among the mix, one of the ‘vagrants’ –birds who are part of a phenomenon known as an ‘irruption’ which is currently taking place across eastern North America.

An irruption is a sudden change in the population density of an organism. In the lives of our feathered friends, an irruption occurs when the birds who live farther north run out of food, and move farther south to find sustenance. Some of the irruptive species here in Michigan include purple finches, redpolls, evening grosbeaks, red-breasted nuthatches, pine grosbeaks, pine siskins, and bohemian waxwings.

A Common Redpoll and a Red-breasted Nuthatch from a previous winter

These irruptions commonly occur every few years and mostly impact the finches and other species that winter in the boreal forests of Canada and further north. The primary food source for these birds comes from pine cones. When the pine cone crop is poor over the summer, it foreshadows a difficult winter for these birds. The shortage of seeds that the pine cones produce forces these birds to move beyond their normal range in search of food. If multiple types of trees fail to produce a seed crop during the same year, multiple species of birds will move further south.

Eastern Bluebird weathering the elements on a snowy winter’s day

Irruptions vary widely in size, frequency, and duration. Some birds will stay in an area for weeks at a time, while others might only stay for a day. Regardless of the size of the flock or the duration of their visit, it’s an exciting time for birders!

I would love to see any one of these wayward birds on my picture walks, but I have been happy enough with my usual backyard visitors, as well as the interesting mix of migrating birds that visit Kalamazoo this time of year, like the fox sparrows, the white throated sparrows, the American wigeons and, the very peculiar, Wilson’s snipe.

Wilson’s Snipe, a migrating bird at the Wolf Lake State Fish Hatchery

A Fox Sparrow and a White-throated Sparrow, migrating birds that come to our backyard

American Wigeon, a migrating bird that visits a nearby pond

I’ve been out in the snow several times recently looking for the evening grosbeaks, the red-breasted nuthatches, and the other ‘irrupters’ who might be passing through, but I have come up empty handed. On any given picture walk, though, there is always the possibility that something new might come along, and ‘possibility‘ is always a great motivator!

Female Cardinal and a male Hairy Woodpecker

On these beautiful, winter days, I love the challenge of bundling up like a kid to stay warm and trudging through freshly fallen snow to photograph a bird, as I revel in the joy that, at age 75, I can still do this!

Find the joy!