Red Wing Nature Notes

First a couple of notes:

Of the ducklings featured in my last post one was gone within a couple hours of the time I saw them. The rest had disappeared by the next morning. It’s tough out there for little ducks.

I am seeing more deer in the fields. I saw two that looked like twin fawns without spots – is this possible already?

I saw my first firefly of the season May 24th.

I haven’t heard coyotes for quite a while until a pretty active barking session a couple of nights ago.

I’ve noticed the “helicopter” maple seeds are falling — seems like the wrong time of year, do they form and fall twice each summer?

For work last Friday I had to drive to Apple Valley in Dakota county. I needed to check up on a foreclosed town house for a bank.

At one point I drove on County Road 42 where the surroundings shift from rural to suburbs.
Several times previous to this particular trip I’ve noticed big cement structures lining the road, old and abandoned with vines crawling on them. They put me in mind of Easter Island or Stone Henge.

Feeling curious, I turned off on a road that no one else seemed to be turning on. It was wierd, I left city traffic with just one turn. The fields were in varying stages of being over run by box elders, a turkey flew across the road in front of my car. There were many different decaying cement structures, some with crumbling columns that made me think of Rome. Then I saw cement chimneys as big as power plant  obsucred by trees.

There was a fence around the area that and a sign, “No Trespassing, regularly patroled by The Dakota County Sherrif”.  I was tempted to follow a path worn in the grass that went around the gate and the sign towards the building with chimneys, but refrained from doing so because a speeding ticket from the day before was still fresh in my mind. 

A little further down the road I saw another sign, “UMore Park, University of Minnesota “. I kept driving around, this park seemed as big as a city, but there were no improvements. I saw some pole sheds and a couple of cars in the distance and went in that direction. There was a young woman in blue jeans walking along the road. I rolled down my window and asked her, “what is this place?”  She was very freindly, smiled and said, “It’s a research facility for the University of Minnesota.” I said, “What was it before that?” Her face clouded over, “A farm?” both of us knew that couldn’t be right.

She directed me to someone else busy working on something with pipes that I couldn’t quite identify. He tells me this place was a World War Two munitions plant that covered 13,000 acres but is now only 8,000 acres. He doesn’t know what the cement structures by the the main road were for. He verifies the park is currently used by the university for farm research.

The mystery is solved but it does not dispel the aura of this place. I think someone should film a movie here.

I leave umore park and come upon a residential street, paved with curbs and traffic circles. But there are no homes on the street, just bare spots where the houses should be.  A nearby development ends abruptly almost as if some chemical has been dumped that turns the grass brown and stops houses from growing.

The area I am in, with it’s randomly hilly terrain, is glacial end morain. The road I am on dead ends into a big grassy hill.  Over my shoulder a steady stream of cars rushes by, the noise of tires on pavement fills the air.

I park my car so I can  climb the hill with my camera. I feel like I shouldn’t be here only because no one else is. The traffic is a block away.

At the top of the hill is a flat spot and then a deep hole, an open gravel pit with a fleet of cement trucks parked in the distance. There is a steep dropoff, but no fence. They must figure no one around here gets out of their car.

No equipment is moving. It’s 4:30 on the Friday of Memorial day weekend. I stay away from the unstable edge. I look down at my feet and see gravel, slightly rounded, different colors and sizes. The side of the pit shows the cross bedding of layers still left from when the gravel was deposited 10,000 years ago.

The last glacial age laid waste to Minnesota. Ice a mile thick flowing like plastic under it’s own weight scraped away soil and rock. It left some of it’s load  when the ice melted as the hill I am standing on.

Desert conditions surround a continental glacier because cool, dry density winds come off the ice and evaporate all of the moisture. The wind picks up the fine, rich topsoil and redeposits it as rich farmland, in this case, in far southren Minnesota and Iowa. It is called “loess”.

In many parts of Minnesota Glacial boulders called “erratics” occupy seemingly random places in fields. These rocks lie in fields like boats left by the tide, but instead of water it is ice that has receded.  A term that refers to these boulders and other poorly sorted(all sizes and types of material mixed together) soil and rock is “Drift”.

You won’t find any “drift” in Red Wing unless someone hauled it in with a truck. Drift is a glacial feature all over the northern part of north america, but not in Red Wing. We live in an area called “the driftless region”.

At the time I was in school there was little information provided for this phenomenon. It was simply stated that the drifless region remained unglaciated during the last glacial age.  It was a piece of trivia memorized for a test that has stuck in my head all of these years because I happen to be from “the driftless region”. Glacial deposits around Red Wing tend to be deposited by melt water,  well sorted sand or gravel or mud. We don’t have lakes.

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During the past two spring seasons, I have had some most unusual experiences on my canoe trips to the BWCA.  Last May, we had the extraordinary experience of happening upon a cow moose that had just given birth to two young calves.  The births were so recent that the calves were not yet capable of standing on their own.

On my most recent trip last week to the canoe country, I had three memorable experiences however none as exciting as the moose sighting.

One morning as I was collecting and bringing firewood back to camp, I nearly stepped on a well camouflaged nesting ruffed grouse.  To say that it startled me would be a major understatement.  I was no more than a foot from the ground nest, when it jumped up and immediately went into a full strut as it attempted to defend it’s nest containing twelve eggs.  For the next four days, we would observe from a safe distance as she incubated her clutch of eggs.

Another morning as we were canoeing, we paddled near a dead norway pine floating in the lake near the shoreline.  On this floating log were a dozen painted turtles sunning themselves.

Upon closer examination, we observed a very large snapping turtle swimming alongside the log eyeing a prospective meal.

Even though after twenty minutes of observing this standoff and no predator vs. prey action, it would be interesting to know if such an event would take place?

On our next to last day, we went to shore at the mouth of a creek entering the lake just to explore and stretch our cramped legs.

We discovered that the shallow creek was full of big spawning suckers.  Nearby were fish scales and remains, evidence that otter and eagles were taking advantage of the situation.  We half expected to observe fresh bear scat in the area.  Bears love to come across a stream full of spawning fish and will usually gorge themselves during this brief seasonal event.

Yesterday Barb Tittle called with an update that there were baby wood ducks on her pond. This morning around 6 am I went over there with my camera.

I stayed hidden behind the errosion control dam which forms the pond. I slowly stuck my head up so I could see the perimeter of the pond. The male wood duck saw me and took flight before I had any chance for a photo. After that the pond looked deserted. I wondered what could have happend to the ducklings that were there yesterday.

As I walked the permeter of the small pond I saw what looked like a rotting log in the grass at the water’s edge. I knew there hadn’t been a log there the other day so I pointed my camera at it and zoomed in and snapped a shot. As I stood looking at the log I thought I saw movement. I moved closer for a better look.

Suddenly the mother wood duck sprang from the grass and flew a few feet into the pond. She skittered across the pond as if she couldn’t fly and with lots of movement struggled up the other bank into the grass along the pond. I almost believed she was really hurt. Meanwhile the ducklings popped out of the grass and quietly swam for the center of the pond.

Last year the ducklings lasted several days before they disappeared. This is the land of coyotes and racoons. I don’t think they will last. It would be fun to see them grow up but I can’t think of any way to protect them.

On my way home I heard gobbling turkeys so I walked to the top of a rise and saw a pair of them so engrossed with each other that they didn’t see me. I was a fair distance away and didn’t take the chance of trying to move closer. Instead I watched. The hen walked around pecking at things as if the male did not exist. The male walked towards her and fanned his tail. She walked away again and he followed fanning again and gobbling loudly.

After several minutes I decided to leave them alone. I took one step and they both saw me and ran for the long grass. On my way home I heard the call of a medow lark, a sound that makes me think of being a kid (something a little more specific here) in summer. I managed to snap a photo of him at a distance as he surveyed the grassland from a box elder sappling.

Many times in this blog someone has reported something unusual only to have a report of a similar sighting or event from someone else. I think of the multiple sightings of pileated woodpeckers at feeders last year.

A couple of posts ago Bruce posted photos of a scarlet tananger at a feeder. I am no expert and had never seen one at a feeder and have seen one only a few times in the woods. Right after Bruces post a scarlet tanager came to our feeder and Jean got several good photos.

Our bird book says they are most likely to appear at feeders in the early spring before there are many bugs. Last night at sunset, after the temperature had topped 90 degrees for the first time this year, I looked across the fields to see many bugs above the grass.

I doubt we’ll see another tanager at our feeder this year. One thing about the blog is that by sharing these things events we see are recorded and compared. It seems a pattern is somtimes exposed that to my eye may have seemed completely random.

With the lilacs in full bloom, it is time to get out and hunt the elusive  morel mushroom.  On Thursday and Friday morning, I grabbed my camera walking stick and pack for a walk in the woods.  For obvious reasons, my destination will remain confidential. 

 As I made my way through the woods, a whole host of melodic and enthusiastic bird calls came from every direction.  There were warblers, grosbeaks, orioles, and rooster pheasants just to name a few.

The species of wild flowers are changing now from the very early spring ephemerals which demand full sunlight. 

New arrivals in the forest were the columbine and hoary puccoon.

 The highlight of my morning besides finding a couple meals of morels was having a male scarlet tanager flit around me as I paused to take a break for a brief lunch.  That evening, the flavor of fresh morels sautéed in butter will be a lasting memory of spring’s many outdoor adventures.

On Saturday afternoon, I biked out on the Cannon Valley Trail to mile marker 14 and the active eagle nest.

 Along the way, I encountered a couple new common wild flowers adjacent to the trail.  They were the wild strawberries and blue phlox.

Once at the nest, I set up a 20X spotting scope and tripod for upwards of 60 bikers to look through and observe eagle activity.  Twice during the 1 PM  to 3 PM session, adult eagles brought fish to the nest for the growing eaglets.  

Since I last reported, these young birds have grown considerably and are getting quite demanding.  It was also very obvious that there was a pecking order when it came time to eat what was brought to the nest.

In my most recent post on Red Wing Nature Notes, I described how turkey vultures spread their wings in the early morning to catch the bright sunlight and disinfect their feathers of unwelcome bacteria.  The following morning after my posting, I happened upon a vulture doing what I had just reported.  Here is the proof!
 

Also in my last post, Nancy Braschler had requested through her comment that I provide a listing of possible observations that might take place out at the eagle nest on the Cannon Valley Trail and when each might occur.  Assuming that the first eaglet hatched about April 8th, it will take about three months before the eaglets will leave the nest (fledge).  So you will have plenty of time to get out and observe some fascinating activity at the nest with the most interesting being feeding time.

By the first week of May, the eaglets should have started to grasp with their talons and peck at prey brought to the nest.

By May 15th, the eaglets should be standing on their feet and screaming loudly.

By June 10th, the eaglets will be exercising by frequently flapping their wings.  They will also try to steal food from their nest-mates.

By the first week of July, the eaglets should be capable of flying away from the nest for good.  On the 4th of July the past two summers, I have canoed from Welch to Highway 61 and observed eaglets sitting in dead trees at the river’s edge quite close to the nest.  In each case, I was able to paddle quite close and they didn’t fly away.

Other new bird sightings at our feeder this spring are as follows:  

  May 3rd  Northern Oriole

   May 4th  Orchard Oriole

  May 5th  Rose-breasted Grosbeak

In conclusion, I would like to share a report and photos from a former ELC participant Kate Erickson Columbara who lives  with her husband in Chicago.  They were in Red Wing this past weekend visiting her parents Tom and Emily who live in the Hallstrom area and observed this spectacular scarlet tanager at the suet feeder.  I replied to Kate that she was indeed quite fortunate at having this experience.  Kathy and I have been feeding birds at our feeders in Wacouta for nearly forty years.  Only once have we had a scarlet tanager at the feeder.  Kate, thanks for sharing your photos and experience.