Hoar Frost

    Monday morning brought us near zero temperatures, along with it some magnificence displays of hoar frost. Those of us who live on the banks of Lower Wisconsin River enjoyed a thicker coat of frost. It's created by the rising mist of the river water which is warmer than the air. After I dressed in an extra layer of warm clothing for a walk to the riverbank additional winter wonders were revealed. The dirty looking snowbanks were covered with a light dusting of snow. The river in my area doesn't fully freeze over but the ice along the shore reaches out to the strong current. Looking just beyond the ice in the mist were dark shadows floating down river. A moment later they swam into an opening, as I thought they were a mix of common mergansers and mallard ducks. Farther out in the mist was the familiar honking of Canada geese. Across the river high above in the icy trees was the black silhouette of a bald eagle. It had already left the roost area to begin the hunt for the much needed meal to help produce extra body heat. Today the cloud cover saved the hoar frost from the rays of the rising sun.

    The name hoar comes from Old English, meaning showing signs of old age such as white hair. Checking some facts about hoar (radiation) frost I found that my above statement is only partially correct. The last step in creating air (vertical) hoar frost involves nighttime temperatures causing trees, plants and other objects to lose heat. When their surface temperature is below the air temperature ice crystals begin to collect on the branches. There are several forms of hoar frost but another one that we can relate to is surface hoar. Anyone ice fishing or skating will at sometime come across clear ice with surface hoar frost on it. It will appear as fern like crystals spreading across the ice before being covered by snow. Most of us will have seen the surface type on window panes or windshields. A weather man will tell you this all has something to do with the dew point. We don't often hear the term dew point in the winter forecast. Hoar frost and summer dew are cousins. The beautiful intricate designs of dew covered spider webs or plants have gone though a similar process at warmer temperatures. A couple photos from my river bank.

  

Looking west toward
Ferry Bluff

 Looking northeast
toward Sauk City











 
    Dew covered objects can be admired from a distance alone but take 
the time to check out the frost crystals close-up.

Mazomanie Barrens

    I'm lucky to have a view of the Wisconsin River from my living room window. There's another treasure just a short walk across Highway Y. First I cross a small piece of prairie to get access to a trail that leads to the east. About a quarter mile down that path I come to the beginning of the Mazomanie Oak Barrens (also known as the Mazomanie Sand Barrens). Both names are appropriate as the photo demonstrates. Under the blanket of snow are rolling sand dunes which support the diverse growth of prairie plants and many types of trees, including oaks. When I first moved here a buddy/neighbor and I co-owned a snowmobile and made use of the groomed trail that runs through it. Later I took up cross country skiing. Unless you follow the well-traveled trials, walking through the snow that drifts into deep pockets, you can soon wear out. For visitors to the area there's a parking lot (not always plowed out) or a long driveway at the end of which once stood several farm buildings. If you choose to start from the parking lot there’s a stand of large white pines planted years ago to hold the sand in place. When you travel around the Sauk Prairie area you'll see this method was used on both sides of the river. From here there's clearly a path to follow.

   The wooded area opens to a wild mixture of prairie, hardwoods, wetlands and desert-like habitat. A word to the wise; an adult naturalist can get caught up in the scenery and walk for a few miles. I once took my dog with me (a short-legged Scottish terrier). He loved checking out all the smells of the wildlife that had crossed the path. Maybe an hour into it I noticed he had sat down and no longer wanted to walk. Needless to say that ended our hike and I carried him about halfway back.

   This sand terrace was created as the ice age glaciers melted some 10,000 years ago. It's believed that the sand and gravel left behind may be as deep as three hundred feet in some areas. This process left us with the great river valley in which we live. Over the thousands of years this barren has changed to give us a small taste of the many different terrains in our area.

The walk beyond the pines opens with a dry prairie to the left and a bog/peat type wetland to the right. The prairie has a wide range of native plants including big and little blue stem, side oats and other grasses that send their roots deep through the sand to find water. The prickly pear with its pale yellow flowers and small red fruit are there, as well as large patches of spiderwort that look like small ponds when they sport their blue blooms. In the summer many song birds call this home. From the prairie you enter into a hardwood forest of black cherry, and black, white and bur oak and few others. Mixed in the underbrush is hazelnut. Where I grew up we'd pick these as kids. We thought we had hit the jackpot, but after waiting for them to dry there seldom were any nut meats in the pods.

    Next comes part of the Mazomanie Marsh where the ponds are home to the migrating ducks in the spring and a few wood ducks during the summer. During the green summer months the cattails and reeds are filled with the actions of wetland birds.

    The wildlife is as diverse as the vegetation. During the night the coyote howls blend with the hoots of the great horned owls. In the summer this chorus is joined by the call of the whip-poor-will. When hiking, with luck you'll spot wild turkey; white tail deer; fox, red pine, or gray squirrels; rabbits and maybe the more elusive red fox.

If you complete the hike you'll pass through patches of these habitats a couple of times. The trail loops around to join the eastern parking area down the long driveway. During a visit this time of year you'll probably hear that the black-capped chickadee has started to mix its call of the usual “chick-a-dee-dee” with “Hi sweetie!” Meanwhile, the hawks sit high in the bare branches waiting for some hapless creature to make a run across the white snow.

    

A Bald Eagle?

   It was sad to have a tree cut down.                  
Over the years it was crowed and it reached
for sun light causing it to lean too much with
no backside growth to balance it. If it came down
in a storm it could do some structure damage.
   When I got home I was greeted with
this sight, the branches were gone.
It made me think of the Superman quote.
     "Is it a bird, is it a plane....."
   The guy helping him said he was more like a

flying squirrel.

 

Visitors at the feeders

 The Carolina Wren was back along with a Northern Flicker.
 

East Fork

     A little warmer day, a chance to go for a walk.

     During late fall and early winter you can count on several cars being parked along the roadside. Often you'll see the bright orange outfits of hunters. As a rule I feel it's best not to venture into the woods during this time. However I think it's now safe to explore. I've noticed a trail that leads down the bank into a marshy area across from the Mazomanie Oak Barrens. I was curious as to what winter activities might be happening in this area, so a few days ago after a phone call a friend and I made a trip to that spot. We slid down the short bank into the wooded area. The well-traveled but slightly icy trailed zigzagged toward the north. Along the way the trees vary in size from huge ones on the higher ground to a multitude of tall thin trees along the edges where water pools during the wet months.

  This day the sun filtered through the long thin trees, and the whispering breeze set the tree tops in motion. 

  We soon learned that it wasn't wise to watch this action for too long – it could bring on a dizzy spell.

   

               

  Along the way, there were signs of a pileated woodpecker looking for a meal; some of the holes it created were large enough to build a nest in.                                             

        

   Next came a tall stand of amber colored marsh grass. Just beyond this we reached a now partially frozen body, an off-shoot of the East Fork (Second River to some people). It's sheltered from the winter wind and out in the open enough to be bathed in the warmth of the sun. Earlier we had been passed by four teenage ice fishermen they now were on a wide stretch of frozen ice that reached far out of sight. They were busy setting their pop-ups in hopes of leaving with some fresh fish.

 

 

      It was easy walking so we took an eastward trek along the bank away from the fisherman. Soon our path was blocked by a patch of prickly ash. A couple years ago on a trip here I discovered that this protective patch of brambles was home to a wintering flock of robins. There was some fruit dangling from the branches of wild apple trees, providing a source of food. At the edge of the bank it looked like a spring feeding into the pond had created a spot of open water for drinking.

     This area could naturally have places where the water would be deep enough that it wouldn't freeze down to the bottom. But it's my belief that the beaver dams built in this area help to create this winter oasis. This could be one instance where humans are benefiting from the activities of the beaver. The beavers are plant-eaters so the fish are of no value to them. The ponds created by beavers building lodges provide the colonies protection from predators such as coyotes, wolves and bears. In the winter the beavers don't hibernate, so the water behind these dams has to be deep enough so that it won't freeze and cover the underwater entrances to their dens. Being herbivores, all their winter food of tree limbs and pond plant material needs to be stored under the ice.

     In early spring this should be a good spot for viewing migrating ducks. I can also imagine that this is a haven for all types of song birds during the summer.

Note to self --- This may not be a good walk in the summer. The other “Wisconsin State Bird” (I've hear this term use for large mosquitoes) could be abundant in this wetland marsh.

Whooping Cranes

   The weather has not been great for walks in nature so I thought I'd

post some old columns.

  

        A step back in time: below is an entry from my personal journal in 2007. 

   Oct.28^th Today’s adventure started early last spring in Necedah at the National Wildlife Refuge with the arrival of this year’s batch of seventeen Whooping Crane chicks. Last night I had a call from a friend saying that she had been checking the Refuge website. We were aware that the migration flights had started and that they had been in the Baraboo area for the past few days. It looked like Sunday morning the weather would be good for them to take to the sky and move farther south. I called Jean Clausen and she had heard from Barb Barzen saying she would keep us informed as to when they would be leaving. Later that evening when I checked my emails I had one from a woman I had met that worked with Operation Migration, telling me the same information. I also had one from Jean stating that I should be ready for a call around 6:00 am. Sure enough, the call came at about 6:15. We should be at the Ferry Bluff pull-off by a little after 7:00 am. It was one of the coldest mornings this fall and foggy. I stopped along River Road and took a picture of Ferry Bluff, shrouded in fog. The fog was rising from the river and Honey Creek, leaving the very top of the bluff open to the sky. A more adventurous group was going to hike to Cactus Bluff to watch the ultralights lead the juvenile cranes to their next site in Green County. Short trips are made in the beginning because of weather conditions and the young cranes have yet to get the strength for long flights. That will change after a few trips in the air. When I pulled off Highway 60 there were a couple of cars with their passengers inside, waiting and staying warm. By this time the sun was burning off the low-lying fog, but Ferry Bluff was still engulfed. Soon Jean and her daughter arrived with information that we should walk back east along the highway to position ourselves across from the valley on the north side. The camera equipment of the others made mine look inadequate but I was ready and would be happy with whatever I could get. Soon we heard the faintest hum and an ultralight appeared over the ridge. This was the first of four. There at the tips of each wing were three young cranes following mom. They flew almost directly over us. WOW!!! They made a slight turn west and flew by Ferry Bluff, still in the fog. The second and third ultralight each had four birds in tow. The fourth had one tagging along behind it. This took until about 9:15. As for the last two cranes, they didn’t want to fly today so they were given a ride to the next stop. I guess this isn’t unusual in the first stages of the flight to Florida. In past years my friend and her husband had them fly over their prairie so they stayed home and hoped this would be true again this year. As luck would have it they had better viewing than the group on Cactus Bluff (the fog left them with only glimpses).

   This awesome scene will no longer be repeated in the autumn skies. I was lucky enough to witness it twice before the ultralight program of the Whooping Crane reintroduction to the Eastern United States was moved. It was started at the Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in 2001, and after being met with some environmental problems, it was moved to White River Marsh State Wildlife Area after a number of years. The ultralight program was successful in teaching the young birds the route to Florida. They then made the return trip to Wisconsin on their own or in the company of other wild cranes.

     Because of the environment obstacles at the nesting sites the decision has been made to end the ultralight program. However Operation Migration, along with many other agencies, will continue the work to bring these majestic birds back to the numbers that will insure their survival for generations to come. It's a daunting task but the work reestablishing bald eagle populations proves it can be done.

We'll not see the ultralights and their wing-mates again but the Operation Migration mantra hits the mark.  

                       “It's about the birds.”

Unusual Winter Visitor

   A neighbor and I went for a walk at Wolf Run today.
When we got back to the bridge there was a flock of birds.
It turned out to be a mix of juncos and bluebirds.
I was lucky enough to get two great photos of the bluebirds.   

A Devil's Lake Treasure

  A younger friend ( Chris Byers) who's more sure of foot took these photos last week.
He found this spring and water fall last summer at Devil's Lake. It's located on the east bluff.
I haven't ventured up that rocky slope yet and as the years pass it becomes less likely that I will.
Sometimes great photos will have to do.

 

New Year's Visitor

    Mid morning on New Year's Day this adult bald eagle perched along my bank.
I was able to take these photos through my living-room window.
In the last photo it appears that it had spotted me.