January, 2006 Issues of Timbergreen Trails These are stories of the walks our collies have enticed us into taking as published in "The Home News", Spring Green's local paper. .

January 31, 2006

This is the best time of the year for seeing and hearing our "Woody Woodpeckers", crow-sized pileated woodpeckers with bright red tufts on their heads. Their size, crests, and the white patches on the front of their wings which flash prominently when they fly make identification easy, and they often attract attention to themselves with a flicker-like call, "yucka, yucka, yucka....". These birds require large tracts of forest with at least some big old trees, and we feel fortunate to have them in our woods.

All woodpeckers have a number of characteristics that set them apart from other birds. They use their strong beaks to drum on hollow wood to declare their territories and to attract mates, as well as to excavate nests and dig for food. The forces involved in the woodpecker's hammering away at trees are incredible, but their heads are so constructed that sponge-like tissue behind the beak absorbs much of the shock. Then, too, a narrow cushion of air separates the thick-walled skull from the brain, which itself is protected by a tough outer membrane. They brace themselves with central tail feathers that are equipped with particularly strong shafts, and lean back, holding on to the tree trunk with short legs and sharp claws. The importance of these tail feathers is proved by the fact that old ones are not molted until new ones have grown in to replace them.

A large part of the pileated's diet is made up of carpenter ants and beetle larvae, and once its beak has penetrated the bark of a tree trunk or branch, it uses its incredible tongue to probe deep inside. This forks in the throat and wraps behind and over the top of the skull where it rejoins and is anchored behind the bird's nostril, and it is supported by a line of tiny bones encased in muscles that fold up accordion-like. When the woodpecker wants to stick out its tongue, it contracts muscles near its base, forcing the tiny bones forward and pushing the tongue out of the bill, while relaxing the muscles retracts it. The tongue also can move from side to side and is sensitive to touch, a big help in detecting unseen insects. Woodpeckers that excavate deeply into wood, such as the pileated, have shorter tongues with spear-like tips bearing backward-facing barbs, while those that forage mainly on the ground, such as the northern flicker, have tongues with flattened tips. Sapsuckers have brush-like tongues that take up the sap of trees by capillary action, and species that feed in crevices of the bark usually have longer tongues with bristles concentrated at the tip. For storage, the tongue is curled between the skull and skin around the back of the head.

A pileated woodpecker typically makes deep rectangular excavations in trees and logs, sometimes prying off long slivers of wood to expose ants or other creatures inside and leaving piles of chips around the base. A pair will construct a new nest hole each year, which will have an oval entrance about 4-6 inches in diameter and may reach 2 feet deep. Woodpeckers will sometimes wound the bark around the hole to make the sap run, a practice that seems to repel some predators such as some snakes which eat eggs and like to live in woodpecker holes. Both parents incubate the eggs and the chicks are fed a regurgitated soup and fledge when they are about a month old. These family groups remain together, only separating and dispersing in the fall.

Last summer, birders were thrilled to hear reports that the ivory-billed woodpecker, long believed to be extinct, has been rediscovered in the Big Woods of eastern Arkansas. This southeastern bird looked like a larger version of the pileated woodpecker, and seemed to disappear some 60 years ago presumably due to hunting and forest destruction. Over the years, there were reports of sightings, but these were never confirmed until two years ago when a team from Cornell University launched an intensive search. They saw several birds they thought might be the sought-after species and returned with videotapes, although skeptics insisted that the sketchy images were only those of pileated woodpeckers. Last season, however, sound recordings of the bird's distinctive call were obtained that convinced many of the experts, who admit that while these may not be conclusive evidence of the birds' existence, they are certainly suggestive.

The search team in Arkansas includes outstanding field biologists and volunteers following carefully designed procedures and equipped with state-of-the-art technology. Still, this bird will be tough to document for ivory-bills are wary and notoriously elusive. A pair probably has a range of 10-20 square miles, and the search area covers 550,000 acres of thick forest, much of it swamp where searchers must travel by canoe or slog through hip-deep water or thick mud. The habitat for ivory-billed woodpeckers is improving in a number of places, thanks to protection and careful forest management, and ornithologists hope that if the birds are there, their numbers will increase. The team is keeping mum about what they are finding this winter, but plans to issue a report to the public in May. They do hint that they have found sufficient reason to continue their efforts and that hopes remain high for definitive proof.

January 24, 2006

A few plants give promise to the coming spring with green rosettes that persist throughout the winter. Largest and most showy is the mullein, which is now a soft gray-green cluster of leaves, but in a few months will stretch up a tall stalk. Other plants must be searched for among the leaves, and even in a dry, snowless period such as we are experiencing, are hardly visible.

Far more impressive are the remnants of last year's plants, many of which are still standing straight and tall. Some of these are "weeds", so called because they are tough aliens who are experts at reproducing themselves where they are not wanted, while others are natives. Presumably they have adopted this ability to remain standing long after the growing season is over for one main purpose, to disperse their seeds. They do this in three general ways: first, by holding the seeds high so that winds can blow them the greatest distance; second, by growing hooks or barbs and trusting an unsuspecting passers-by to carry them off to some new area; or third, by making their seeds available to birds or rodents who eat them thinking they have found a meal, unaware that some of the seeds have a protective coating that will allow them to pass unharmed through the diner's digestive system. That these strategies are very successful is obvious if one looks at the numbers and variety of stalks in a field.

Mustards and peppergrass have small translucent flat pods arranged up their branches, while milkweed and dogbane have long open pods, emptied months ago. Plantain, sensitive ferns, and heal-all have tightly clustered pods toward the tops of single short stalks, while mulleins may grow to be eight feet tall with dried cup-like pods packed along the upper sections. Sumac stalks stand out with their deep red hairy spikes that provide a readily available last-ditch food for many types of wildlife, although evidently not too appealing if other supplies are handy.

Asters and other composites are often widely branched with tufts of seeds still clinging to old flower heads or sometimes just empty bracts remaining where the flowers once bloomed. Black-eyed Susan's and coneflowers retain the button centers for which they are named. St. Johnswort, cinquefoils, and evening primroses have clusters of neat little vases that once were seed receptacles, and goldenrods can be identified by their sprays of dried flower stalks and often display round swellings part way up their stems that are the gall-homes of tiny wasps.

A particularly striking plant is dock, a perennial member of the buckwheat family that is common along roadsides and in the fields. Its dark red-brown stalks stand out boldly in the landscape and the three- to four-foot plants have converging upper stems that are covered with clusters of unique triangular seeds. A fact about them that you may not know is that new leaves grow each fall around the bases and these may be gathered for good eating in the winter. They are undoubtedly best when they have been protected by a snow cover but the long lance-shaped leaves can be boiled and seasoned with butter and salt and make a fine vegetable, rich in vitamins C and A.

Easiest to identify are those plants with stalks that support thorns or burs. Thistles, burdocks, and beggar-ticks grow as tall as six feet and most people soon learn to avoid contact with them. Birds eat their seeds, however, although a few reportedly have discovered too late that these plants can be deadly traps for tiny unwary visitors that have been caught on their hooks.

Berries still remain on some plants. Wild grapes hang in small panicles in areas along the fence lines or high in the treetops where the vines have climbed seeking the sun. Tight round balls of deep blue berries can be found on greenbriar vines that drape themselves on old fences along the road. Pairs of blue berries are suspended from the nodes of otherwise bare stalks of Solomon's seal. Frosted blue berry-like cones adorn female red cedars. The fact that these fruits remain late in January, proves that the birds and other creatures have had plenty to eat this winter and have not depleted their reserves.

There is loveliness in these dried plants, although beauty, as everyone knows, is in the eye of the beholder. Browns and tans are the basic colors with touches of mahogany and gold, but once you accept the limitations you will find endless variations in the subtle shades. Textures, too, are important, ranging from the most delicate lacework and soft velvety surfaces, to rough splintery stems and stout cruel thorns. Prairie grasses fill in between the plants in many fields and their slender blades and graceful seed heads stand in contrast to the heavier stalks of the other plants. Insects, rodents, and birds, as well as a number of the larger animals call these environs their home, but to us the winter fields and their memories of past bounty and their promise of next year's growth are places of unending fascination and areas to revisit again and again as we walk our trails.

January 17, 2006

It is with relief that I can hike the trails again without worrying about tripping over a hunter, or Daisy being shot as she follows along. I understand the need for managing the deer herd, but being deprived of two months' use of much of our land is a major loss. At any rate, the season is over for now and I enjoyed checking out the various paths.

The sky was a brilliant blue when the sun finally showed itself, and I found myself repeatedly looking up through the various tree branches to enjoy it. Most picturesque are those of the white birch, a tree that grows abundantly on our hillsides. Its white, curly bark and habit of growing in picturesque clumps make it stand out clearly among the other trees, and its delicate twigs create a lacy pattern overhead. I assumed this species had always been present in our area, and it is true that it grows in a wide variety of habitats throughout Wisconsin. However, one hundred and fifty years ago, our hills were mostly covered with prairie grasses and flowers, with any trees repressed by frequent fires that killed back any growing sprouts. Then, when early settlers contained the fires, trees grew up thickly in all the untilled areas, mostly on steep hillsides.

Forester son, Jim, tells me that when the woods in this area were first cut over fifty or sixty years ago, the loggers concentrated on the more valuable stands of oak, cherry, and walnut, and the openings so created quickly filled in with aspen, birch and other secondary trees. Birch trees grow quickly, but they don't live very long as insects and disease take their toll. The most common in our area are the paper and the river birch. Paper birch will reach a height of about 50 feet and its mature bark is white, papery and eventually peels off in thin layers and rolls up. The bark also has dark brown "eyes," or branch scars, scattered on the trunk and small horizontal lines and irregular color with white and yellow patches. The river birch grows primarily in flood plains, but it may also be found in adjacent upland sites and we have several on our hillside above the house. Its attractive bark is darker in color with a decided pinkish tint.

In the winter, birches are easy to identify by their bark and dangling catkins. Each tree produces both male and female flowers, male flowers on drooping two-inch catkins that release pollen in the spring, and the female flowers on upright 1-sprouts. Pollination is by wind, and the female flowers then elongate into hanging catkins in early autumn that are made up of hundreds of tiny cross-shaped pieces alternating with butterfly-shaped seeds (thick center sections with delicate "wings" on each side). A large tree can produce up to 1 million seeds in a year, but only a few of these will germinate and grow into mature trees. It is reported that the roots of birch trees have close associations with various species of fungi, to the decided benefit to all from the interactions.

Birch was an important tree, both to the original inhabitants and early settlers. Native Americans used all parts of the plant, but the bark was probably the most important to them. It was vital in the manufacture of canoes for transportation and wigwams for shelter, as well as baskets, cups, bags, and other useful utensils. It was also shredded and used for tinder to start campfires, and folded and rolled into cylinders that could be used as long-burning torches. They also collected and boiled down the tree sap for a sweet drink and syrup, used parts in medicines, and in times of famine, could even eat the inner bark. Today, decorative items from birch bark are still popular, and the wood is used to make toothpicks, toys, paper pulp, and firewood, as well as veneer, flooring, and interior trim. The larger trees are tapped each spring in some areas, and the sap is collected for syrups, jelly, and birch salad dressing. Some even manufacture a beer or wine.

Few birches in Wisconsin now grow large, mostly because of two insects, the bronze birch borer and the birch leaf miner. The leaf miner is a tiny black sawfly that emerges in early May and lays eggs in the new foliage. The larvae mine the leaves, feeding on the tissue between the two leaf surfaces, and although they won't kill a tree, they cause sufficient damage to make it more susceptible to the bronze birch borer. This is a 1" long olive-bronze beetle whose flatheaded larvae girdle the tree trunks and limbs beginning at the top and cutting off the sap flow. The larvae then pupate in their tunnels and the following spring, the adults emerge and lay eggs on the highest living branches. These soon produce new larvae, and the cycle is repeated further and further down the tree until it eventually dies.

In ancient times in Europe, the birch was associated with the spirits of the dead and the Underworld, and witches made brooms of its twigs in an effort to communicate with them. Tying a red ribbon around the trunk or branch of a birch tree was said to ward off the evil eye, and whipping people or animals with birch twigs would supposedly exorcise evil spirits. Today, all this folklore is discounted and forgotten, and we treasure these trees for their beauty and utility, and trust that they will continue to survive for many years to come.

January 10, 2006

The change from autumn to winter this year was rather sudden and dramatic, with the temperatures dropping like a rock, the winds brutal, and the snow deepening. True, we had our white Christmas, but then in one of those reversals that seem to happen frequently in Wisconsin, the snows stopped, the temperatures rose, and, although the sun has not shone, it has seemed more like spring. The woods and fields are bare again and only the matted leaves and bent-over weeds indicate that the trails were ever snow-covered. Luckily, our wildlife has adapted to this on-again off-again living, and most manages pretty well.

Several flashes of blue caught my eye as I drove down the road just south of the farm, and there was no doubt that I had seen not only one but a flock of bluebirds. These birds have always been a favorite, not only for their beautiful plumage, but also for their soft songs and friendly ways as they patrol my garden. A number of pairs have shared our farm, calling it home and coming back year after year to raise their broods, and we have dutifully maintain half a dozen houses along the road for their use.

In these past few years, with winter temperatures usually warmer than what we think of as normal for Wisconsin, more bluebird sightings have been reported, and some observers have suggested that the mild conditions might have encouraged birds to remain. The fact is, however, that we have seen bluebirds occasionally throughout the winters many times during the 20 years we have owned the property.

It is often thought that migration is a seasonal movement of birds during spring and fall to avoid harsh weather, but this is only partially correct. "Migration evolved as a way for birds to exploit resources that are seasonably abundant and avoid times when or places where resources are scarce or weather is very harsh," Dr. Paul Kerlinger wrote in his book How Birds Migrate. Many birds are able to tolerate cold temperatures but if they cannot find food, they must go in search for it.

By September, eastern bluebirds, as well as the western and mountain species, begin to gather. These groups may consist of older juveniles or family units made up of adults and the young from the last nesting, and these often join together to form large flocks. In warmer areas of the country, many bluebirds are year-round residents, content to remain permanently in the place of their nesting. However, some far northern populations of bluebirds will begin to move southward by the end of September or the first of October, signaled by shortening day-lengths.

Even in the north, however, a certain percentage of eastern bluebirds show little desire to migrate if sufficient food can be found. Many researchers have come to believe that weather has little to do with the number of non-migrating bluebirds, and that migration has a genetic basis, with some individual birds programmed to migrate and others not. Of those that do migrate, some will travel only short distances and join up with that area's resident birds for the winter. In this situation, they will face more competition for food but will have the benefit of being the first to return to their breeding areas in the spring to claim the most desirable territories. Others seem to pass over more heavily-occupied territories and go further south to the Gulf States.

The bluebird's diet is primarily protein-more than 60% in the winter, and reaching a high of 93% in the spring and early summer. Insects will always be their preferred food, but berries and other dried or frozen fruits can sustain them during bad weather or when insects are scarce in the winter months. Dogwood, hawthorn, wild grape, junipers, highbush cranberry, sumac, hackberry, red cedar, and shadbush are all potential sources of food, as well as the newer varieties of domestic plantings bred for their persistent fruit. If bluebirds do remain in a region for the winter, they will seek cover in heavy thickets, orchards, or other areas in which adequate food and cover resources are available.

It is tempting to try to help bluebirds survive the winter by providing them with food, but they will not come for the seeds usually stocked on feeders. Some enthusiasts do report occasional success with chopped fruit, berries and chopped peanut kernels on a platform feeder, and a few report that the birds have come for berry or insect suet. I do not purchase suet cakes, preferring to make my own, and so had to look up these products. I see that some contain bits of dried fruits and dehydrated insects, but I would have to be convinced that they are worth the added price.

If more bluebirds are noticed in northern areas during mild winters, it could just mean that they are able to be out and about, rather than being forced to shelter from the elements. Soon, the birds that did migrate will begin to move back toward the breeding areas as the daylight hours lengthen and warmer temperatures bring out their insect prey. And, when the average temperature rises above the freezing mark by early to mid-March, the bluebirds that stayed behind as well as the returning migrants will be active as far north as southern Canada, and we trust, in our farmyard, as well.

The reintroduction of the whooping crane to Wisconsin has received much hoopla the last few years, but there is a another on-going effort to save a bird of which few are aware. The focus of this work is the barn-owl, a bird that was placed on the Wisconsin Endangered Species List in 1979. The last reported nesting in the state occurred in 1985, when a pair occupied a large maple in Deerfield in eastern Dane County, and at present, no one knows how many survive in Wisconsin. Barn owls are common in temperate and tropical regions nearly worldwide. but their bodies store little fat and if they cannot find sufficient food, especially during cold spells, they do not survive. However, the fact that the birds once were relatively common in southern Wisconsin has raised questions as to why the decline and disappearance occurred.

The barn owl is sometimes called a "monkey-faced owl" because of its white, heart-shaped face and dark eyes. This crow-sized bird has a rusty back speckled with black, light underparts, and long legs, as well as stiff facial feathers. At night it appears completely white as it flies about, and its appearance and moth-like flight earned it the nickname "ghost owl" and led to its reputation of bringing bad luck. Like other owls, it has large eyes with binocular vision that allow it to distinguish small objects in almost total darkness in addition to exceptional hearing. It lacks ear tufts but its real ears are behind its round facial disks that help direct sound into the ears. Its two ears are also different in size and one is located higher on the head than the other, enabling the bird to sense direction and distance by differences in the intensity and time of arrival of the sound that reaches each ear. Even though barn owls have a wing span of about 41 inches and weigh up to 25 ounces, they make little noise in flight due to special features on the feathers at the front edges of their wings.

When these owls were present in Wisconsin, pairs usually mated in April and chose a nesting site in a natural cavity or accessible building such as a barn, but sometimes using a church steeple, silo, water tower, or manmade nesting box. The female laid an egg every two days until 5-7 white eggs were in the nest. Eggs were laid on a bare surface or, if the nest was used the previous year, sometimes on a mat of flattened pellets. She began incubating when the first egg was laid, resulting in owlets of varying ages with the oldest stronger and more able to demand food from the parents. Often the younger weaker nestlings starved, and sometimes were eaten by the older ones. Both parents brought prey to the owlets, usually mice that were swallowed whole. A nesting pair of barn owls with six young may consume over 1,000 mice during their three-month nesting period.

In an effort to save the species, the Milwaukee County Zoo started a barn-owl breeding program in 1981. The Department of Natural Resources has released some 80 of these birds but their fate is unknown, despite the radio transmitters attached to some that were supposed to allow their movements to be monitored. Researchers and volunteers have also built and installed nestboxes in suitable barn-owl habitat, a strategy that has proved successful in Ohio and New Jersey. Now a new group has joined the effort. Marge and Don Gibson of Antigo, Wisconsin, founded the Raptor Education Group, Inc. (REGI), in 1990. Marge is a field biologist who worked with the California condor recovery team and the Bald Eagle Capture Program in Valdez, Alaska, while Don is a recently retired pathologist.

In the beginning, REGI was focused on public education programs and supporting field research on avian species, but they soon found that rehabilitation would be a major part of their work, particularly of large raptors and swans. During the course of a single day they often act as animal caretakers, nutritionists, behaviorists, emergency medical technicians, educators, specialists in the capture and transport of injured wildlife, as well as providers of assistance to the public with wildlife issues. Wildlife rehabilitators are not usually veterinarians but the two professions interact frequently. If surgery is needed for an animal, it is done by a qualified wildlife veterinarian, but the after-surgery care, hunt training and physical therapy needed to get the animal back to the wild state is done at the rehabilitation center. The focus is on caring for wild species in such a way as to keep them wild so that they can be successfully returned to their native habitats. Most wildlife centers are self supported or supported by donations only, and the REGI is a non-profit group that gets no financial assistance from state or federal agencies.

During the past 18 months, REGI has received several groups of barn owlets from the Cincinnati Zoo, offspring of captive parents. The young owls are initially fed frozen mice but as they mature, they must hone their flying, swooping and hunting skills to catch live prey. For this process, REGI has constructed one of the largest flight training buildings in the world, where large birds are taught to fly and build the muscle and the predatory skills they will need in the wild. The facility is open to visitors on Tuesdays, June through August, from 10 AM to 1 PM, and would make a fascinating trip. They report on their webpage that "they continue to receive information on barn owls sightings in the release areas, and are looking forward with cautious optimism to more such sightings and perhaps evidence of reproduction after the winter season". We wish them well.