 Andrea and Terry Grabill at Magee Marsh Boardwalk, NE Ohio By Terry Grabill
N3 Note: A "life bird" is a species that a birder has seen and identified in the wild for the very first time in their life. 2018 was a disappointing birding year. My health hit a significant speed bump and kept me grounded to my front window. Nearly everything was put on hold while this old body tried to mend. I submitted exactly zero checklists to eBird and added zero birds to my life list. 2019 promised better opportunities as the body grew stronger. Sure, there were some lingering things…and I had this neat handicapped tag that hung from my rear-view mirror, but the atrophied cardiovascular system was ready to rebuild. Early May found Andrea and me in North-west Ohio: our migration happy place. More detail on this location once I finish Kenn Kaufman’s new book discussing what he calls “The warbler capital of the world”. We were unable to do our usual volunteer work and birding at The Biggest Week in American Birding last year (the first year we’ve missed). This year we birded for three days on Lake Erie’s coast and volunteered at the registration desk. We met some great people and I even got my life black-necked stilts! The following weekend brought the Tawas Point Birding Festival on Lake Huron. Andrea had never been able to be there with me, so I’d taken a boy from school that was interested in birds. Three years ago, Brennen and I went for the day and had a great time. This year, Ann was able to go and so was Brennen, who was then in the ninth grade. A special day was made more special because our oldest daughter, Caitie, was with us on her birthday! It was the first time she’d been birding with us. I picked up my life Kentucky warbler too! As I looked forward at the weekend that followed, I realized that we would be on Lake Michigan. Three weekends on three different Great Lakes. A plan started to form. “Warblers on the Water” is an event on Beaver Island in Northern Lake Michigan (lots more about Beaver in a later message!). Andrea and I have been field guides for this event for the past four years. It’s a really special privilege for us to lead here. The island has a special place in our hearts and the opportunity to give back is huge. We’ve been relegated to leading the “windshield birding adventure” trips. These field trips are perfect for our “folksy” personalities. Our groups are often birders not looking for a rigorous hike. The trips offer a great way to see a lot of the island in a morning of birding. I’m also offered the opportunity to speak about birding. This year’s topic was “Sharpening Your Birding Skills”. I’m very happy that it was well-received. And, I got my life black scoter! Well, I’d birded on three of Michigan’s Great Lakes in three weeks. So, on week four, to complete a mission, off to Michigan’s UP I went! Whitefish Point juts out into Eastern Lake Superior. It’s known for several things, including the site of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. But, I was there for Whitefish Point Bird Observatory. The Michigan rare bird report told of a lazuli bunting there (seriously?!). My oldest son, Trevor, had never birded with me but offered to take the day trip with me. He helped me with my photography and I saw a piping plover, my life lazuli bunting, and my life Eurasian tree sparrow! Here’s to 2019. Better health, more birds, more travels.
1 Comment
Story and photos by Donna Iverson
As a community gardener, I am all about growing food, community ties, sustainable practices, and getting my hands in the dirt ..err soil. Quiet and reserved by nature, I nevertheless thrill when one of my plants makes a spectacular appearance in the garden bed. Last summer, my giant sunflowers towered over the vegetable beds and could be seen from a block away. Swaying in the breeze, their yellow disk flowers caught the eye of anyone who was tending garden beds or even just walking by. Look at us, they seem to shout silently..aren't we beautiful? And we are useful too..our seeds and petals provide food for butterflies and bees who love us. ...as do birds and people, who harvest the seeds in the fall for a healthy treat. However, visiting the garden toward the end of the summer, I was shocked to see the sunflowers had disappeared. Something had cut them down mid-stalk. I'm guessing either the little rabbit I spied hopping out from behind a neighbors bushes one day or a woodchuck, who had dug a tunnel under one of the beds. Figuring that sunflowers were probably doomed and not a reliable showpiece in the face of these predatory hungry mammals, I decided this summer to plant something almost equally showy and eye-catching. I chose Scarlet Runner Bean. By August it had overgrown its bamboo stakes and was flashing showy red pea-like flowers. Other gardeners were commenting and admiring its beauty. So far, mammals have left it alone and it has attracted pollinators and is a favorite of hummingbirds. A native of Central America, Scarlet Runner Bean was introduced in the 1600s to the colonists by Native Americans. In colonial America it was grown as a food plant, with beans appearing late in the growing season. President Thomas Jefferson was reportedly fond of this heirloom plant and grew it at Monticello. Scarlet Runner Bean is easy to grow, making it a favorite with children, beginning gardeners as well as home owners wanting to make a floral statement. It can reach 10 feet in height and therefore needs some kind of support. The perennial plant cannot tolerate frost and its flower die when temperatures reach the 90s. This ancient bean is edible but must be well cooked to kill off toxins. But even if you don't eat the beans, this native-born plant will make a showy display that will impress your neighbors and friends. It is a plant that likes to show off. ...for gardeners with the same urge.  Or in the local pre-contact language Anishinaabemowin: Gash Kozin, Niibawin, Giigidoon
By Marsha Reeves On the first Wednesday of the month at 7 PM locals and not-so-locals make their way to Flying Bear Books to exercise their courage and satisfy their curiosities. If you are one of the crowd there on any given Poetry Night you might hear poems read by those who wrote them and those who appreciate them. Not all of the poetry is original, but you can bet it’s all good if someone wants to share it enough to get up and read it. The idea of a poetry night at the bookstore is the brainchild of Gabe Schillman (Studio 37) and John Reeves (Flying bear Books). It started in October of 2018, and since then people from all kinds of surprising directions have revealed themselves to be poets and/or lovers of poetry. All people, writers and listeners alike, are invited to check this event out. Customary attire is Newaygo County Classic (AKA whatever you feel like wearing) and the event is MC’d by Gabe. We’ve seen the award winning Robert Fanning join us as well as Alan Basting from Bitely. In the near future Alan will be our Featured Poet, but this month, August, the mic will be open to everyone from the get go. Oh, and Gabe has been known to grace us with some of his original songs.  Gnome watching over the 'maters Photo and story by Donna Iverson
Check around any neighborhood and you will likely find many a deck, porch, or front step with a potted tomato plant. People who no longer garden, for one reason or another, will buy a tomato plant, pot it up and place it in a sunny spot near their doorstep. The potted tomato plant seems to satisfy the need to get your hands in the dirt and watch a small seedling turn into a plant with edible delicious red fruit that tastes better than anything you can buy. This spring, I rescued two tomato plant seedlings from the farmers market and potted them up and gave them a new home on my second-floor apartment deck. Unfortunately, within a few weeks, I learned that when it comes to potted tomato plants, I had a lot to learn and had done pretty much everything wrong. While the tomato is the most popular potted plant, it is also one of the more difficult to grow. But I didn't know that until mid-summer, when my spindly tomato plant was taller than me and looked like a plant from outer space My first mistake, apparently, was planting the seedlings in a too-small container. Tomato plants like to grow in a big pot, the bigger the better. And they don't like to share that container with another tomato plant or any other growing thing. My two seedlings were sharing a too-small container and their roots were competing for nutrients. Tomato also like to be planted deep and have their lower leaves removed. I hadn't done that either. To compensate, I purchased a small bag of potting soil and poured the dirt to top of the container. I was trying to trick my tomatoes into thinking that their stems had been planted in deep soil. Am not sure that worked. Another mistake was that my deck does not provide enough sun, only about four hours worth. Tomatoes require six hours of direct sun and prefer eight hours. I crossed my fingers that the extra hot summer we were having would make up the difference. Not sure that's working either. According to the Farmer's Almanac, tomatoes are incredibly fussy. To quote: "in layman's terms, plants stress when it is too hot or too cold, too much nitrogen and/or too little potassium and calcium, too much or too little water." Despite all these pitfalls, I am doing some things right like watering every day but not over watering, I also apply a steady dose of tomato-specific fertilizer. Potted tomato plants like to be watered in the morning, so I have adjusted my watering schedule accordingly.  "Garden like you're broke"
By Donna Iverson Living along the shores of Muskegon Lake, I heard tell of a Depression Garden being grown at the historic Solnik House in Muskegon. It sounded intriguing so I went for a look. These mostly urban backyard gardens were popular in the 1930s when the depression forced many people to grow their own food to survive. My Dutch maternal grandfather was one of them. During WWII, the depression garden morphed into the more well-known Victory Garden. While we are not in a depression, there is a lot to learn from these back-to-basics gardens that focused on growing staples to feed people. Foods like potatoes, beans, tomatoes, peas, carrots and cabbage. The Depression Garden at the Solnik House is on the south side of the building. Veggies grow in ground-level wooden boxes that likely date back to the 1930s. It is a no-frills garden with the look of simplicity and austerity. I thought about my own community garden bed with its mixture of veggies, herbs and flowers...as well as an ornamental scarlet runner bean. This plant I grow mostly for how it looks with its scarlet flowers that attract hummingbirds. I smiled to think that Jack in the Beanstalk would have loved it. But a depression garden it isn't. Still I was attracted to the depression garden and the lessons it might offer. Such as: 1. Growing your own food as a way to save money and supplement the family income. 2. Insuring that your vegetables are not contaminated by herbicides or pesticides 3. Planting for fresh seasonal produce, lettuce and peas in the spring, tomatoes in the summer, pumpkins in the fall and maybe even a winter crop of collard greens. But there's more than that. We could all use a dose of depression era mentality, according to Kim Slotterback-Hoyun, a northern Michigan gardener. She advises residents to: "garden like you're broke." Plant from seeds if possible. Use what you have to create beds, trellises, and bee houses. Dig out that old shovel and hoe and put some elbow grease into your efforts, forgoing the fancy gardening equipment. And help out your neighbors. Back in the 1930s, vacant lots were turned into relief lots. Food was grown for those who needed it. Much like today's community gardens. Although today, more and more community gardens are putting fences around their beds and warning neighbors, "if you didn't grow it, don't take it." In the community garden that I am a member of, we open the gardens to the public after August when veggies would rot on the vine if not harvested. In summary, depression-era gardens pull us back to basics, growing our own food, using what we have, and helping out our neighbors when possible.  Purple cornflower Story and photo By Donna Iverson
Ever thought about adding some native plants to your garden as a way to help restore the natural habit of your area which has been largely lost in the past century? If so, a good place to start is by planting a native flower and a good first choice would be purple coneflower. A member of the sunflower family, purple coneflower is native to the eastern United States. Purple coneflower can be found east to New England, west to Iowa, south to the Mississippi valley and north to Ontario, Canada. In addition to being grown in gardens, it has escaped to the wild, and can be found in waste places and woods throughout Michigan. It is at home in formal gardens and wildflower meadows, and tucked along the edge of your vegetable garden. Growing 3 to 5 feet tall in any kind of soil, purple cornflower is easy to grow. This showy perennial doesn't care if it is wet soil or dry, sand or clay, poor or fertile soil. Although it will grow taller if the soil is enriched. Native plants, like the purple coneflower, require less water than cultivated flowers and do not require fertilizer or treatment with herbicides or pesticides. In fact, using herbicides and pesticides would defeat a major reason for planting native plants, which is to feed and provide habitat for pollinators. Adapted to its local environment, it is a magnet to bees, butterflies and birds. Without native plants, bees and butterflies cannot survive. To grow purple coneflower, it is best to buy seedlings as it takes two to three years for this plant to flower from seed. As for medicinal properties, purple coneflower is a member of the genus, Echinacea. Found in the vitamin aisle, Echinacea tablets are widely sold in grocery and drug stores for cold relief. But be careful, there can be allergic reactions and interference with prescription medications. Check with your doctor or pharmacist to be sure it is safe for you. Finally, if the idea of growing native plants really has your attention, check of the National Wildlife Federation website at www.nwf.org. You can enter your zip code, and get a list of the flowers that are native to you exact local. Photos are included and the site is interactive. But whether you decide to grow purple coneflower or not, notice it's beauty the next time you spot it whether hiking or taking a stroll around your neighborhood. Especially enjoy purple coneflowers majestic appearance when it has escaped to the wild.  Photo by Jim Maike While the larger retail outlets have already started pushing us out of summer and into fall with school supplies replacing sunblock on the shelves and shorts and t-shirts moving to the close out rack to give way to flannel, no foreboding of fall has been more flagrant than ths photo snapped by Jim Maike last week about 9:30pm on 8th Avenue South of White Cloud.
 Photo by Terry Grabill By Terry Grabill I spent some time in northern Ontario last week. It was planned as a fly-in fishing trip for Walleye and Northern Pike but, let’s be honest- I was birding. I was traveling with Tim and Ken, my friends from decades ago, and they like nature but are not particularly excited about birds. The three of us shared a boat on Granite Hill lake for five days and they humored me while I ignored my fishing rod and listened intently to bird songs. I was excited to have the opportunity to hear and see some of my favorite migrants on their “home turf”. As time passed, they too were picking up on sounds and quizzing me on the species making them. And, to my great satisfaction, they started referring to me as “Goober” as much they did Terry. Every year, Andrea and I look forward to our May excursions to migrant hotspots to get our annual glimpse of Cape May, Bay-breasted, and Blackpoll warblers as well as Swainson’s thrush and White-crowned sparrows. They don’t sing much on their migration path: That’s a job left for the breeding grounds. Some of the species that migrate through, especially shorebirds, are bound for the high-arctic. Many, however, are birds that nest in the boreal forests of northern Ontario. The landscape there is breath-taking from the air, with dense (I mean really dense) conifer forests on rocky hills with pristine lakes in each valley. Our float plane flight from White River goes straight north over just such habitat. From the road and from the air, there is lots of evidence that we’re not in West Michigan anymore! We encountered two gray wolves on our drive and a black bear on our last trip. We were advised that if nature calls while we’re fishing, it’s better to land at one of the many islands rather than the mainland shore to avoid a chance encounter with a large carnivore.  Cape May Warbler, Photo by Andrea Grabill The birdlife wasn’t as obvious until we were out on the still mornings fishing quietly by Picnic Island. The spruces were alive with birdsong! Northern waterthrush and Connecticut warblers sang constantly. Winter wrens burst out their impossibly long trills. Common ravens made their very un-musical sounds, much the irritation of my partners. I (mostly) ignored their grousing about the “noise” because this BirdGoober was in foreign territory. I was birding by ear to vocalizations I’d heard mostly on CDs, not birds singing to their mates and adversaries just a few yards into the thicket. Boating around lakes in West Michigan, I see mallards and wood ducks. On Granite Hill Lake I didn’t see a single one of those. Instead, common mergansers (and only females!) abounded. In fact, Tim quickly picked up on IDing those. In the backwater area of a winding river we found common goldeneye. I had read as a boy that these winter visitors to Newaygo nested in the spruce forests of Canada...so why was I surprised to see them? What is a north woods lake without common loons? We have loons at home and their haunting calls epitomize the northern experience. Many of my local fishing lakes have a resident pair that sometimes fledges a baby. On Granite Hill Lake, however, loons are different. These were not pairs and I didn’t see. any with young. They were in groups of five to ten and were mostly silent as they fed together far from shore. On our visit to Granite Hill two years ago, I counted a string of more than fifty as we motored to the west end of the lake! I think I won’t look at migrants quite the same way after visiting their breeding grounds. These little fighters stop only briefly on their journey, and I’m glad I got to see their summer destination. For BirdGoober, I’m Terry Grabill  Common Goldeneye, Photo by Terri Donaldson  Photo and story by Donna Iverson
I love Lambsquarters. I know love is a strong word for an edible weed, but it's appearance every spring in my garden bed before the regular veggies are even planted, makes it a special treat. And while I enjoy growing vegetables, herbs and native flowers, I am at heart a forager. And a defender of weeds, especially the edible kind. Which most of them are. Suspect my foraging tendencies were inherited from my grandmother who used to track down edible wild food in the fields behind her Whitehall farm as I trailed along behind. We collected wild berries along the path leading to the orchard, and sassafras leaves and asparagus hiding in the tall grass. To me, hunting down wild edibles was a lot more exciting then picking beans in the large kitchen garden next to the chicken coop. Sometimes, we would encounter a snake, which would freeze us in our tracks, even though garden snakes are not poisonous. While edible weeds are all of interest, Lambsquarter is my favorite. For one thing, it is easily identified and distinctive enough not to be confused with any other plants. It is a small dusty looking plant with alternate leaves, shaped like a goosefoot. Secondly, this summer annual self seeds and appears without any effort by the gardener, although you can buy packets of Lambsquarters seeds and plant it as cover crop to enrich the soil. Third, it tastes good, and has been compared to spinach. Like spinach, you can toss it in a salad, cook it like a vegetable, or nibble on it as you weed the garden beds Finally, it is a healthy addition to your diet, high in calcium, iron, and Vitamins A, B, and C. It is also anti-inflammatory. Lambsquarters was once thought to be a native of Europe, but recent archeological evidence places it in North and South America as far back as 6500 BC. Native Americans were especially fond of Lambsquarters' black seeds, which can be ground into a tasty flour, which we call quinoa. A little research on the Internet, turned up recipes for Lambsquarters tea , mouth wash, soap and shampoo, all made from its roots. So next time, don't be so quick to pull out and discard those garden weeds. You may have discovered this special little plant called Lambsquarters, and find you like the taste as much as I do.  Photo and story by Donna Iverson
Eat more Kale. That's what many a Vermont t-shirts said as I prepared to retire and move back to my home state of Michigan. Kale? Isn't that the stuff that restaurants use to decorate their salad bars? You can eat it? Like many people, I'm a sucker for advertising. So having relocated to within a block of where I was born, I joined my local community garden and decided to give it a try....both growing it and eating it. I found it extremely easy to grow but not so tasty to eat, especially raw. It is bitter and tough. But I may be in the minority, an informal poll or friends and neighbors found that some people loved the stuff. One male acquaintance said he especially enjoyed kale chips. Is that because they don't taste like kale, I asked. He shrugged and offered a kale chip dip recipe. As kale is a cold-weather crop, I bought small transplants in April from the local farmers market and into the garden bed they went. Turns out, it is one of the least fussy vegetables to grow, thriving in any type of soil, both drought and pest resistant. Within a few weeks, the plants had doubled in size with a healthy robust appearance. Always interested in a plant's heritage, I learned that kale originated in the eastern Mediterranean around the year 2000 BC. Eventually, it made its way to Russia, where they cultivated a variety that could survive winters down to -15 below. It was especially popular in the Netherlands and Scotland. The Dutch boiled it and mixed it with mash potatoes and called it boerenkalsternpot. The Scots ate so much kale that when they felt ill, they called it "being off ones kale." After WWII, health advocates began to tout this leafy cabbage's nutritional benefits. Scientists had found that it contained more iron than beef and had the most calcium content of any garden vegetable. It was also high in vitamins A, C and K and full of antioxidants. The foodies began to take note and kale found its way onto more and more dinner tables About five years ago, the Eat More Kale movement took off in Vermont when a guy named Bo Muller-Moore began selling t-shirts with that slogan from his garage apartment in the state's capital Montpelier. If ever there was a city that attracted the love children of the 60s, Montpelier was it, and his Eat More Kale t-shirts were a hit. It didn't hurt that a national restaurant chain challenged his trademark, which only made Vermonters more determined to buy and eat more kale. Back in Michigan, it was time to harvest some kale and test its fresh-from-the-garden taste for myself. A member of the cabbage family, I read that kale is better cooked than raw. So into the boiling pot it went. As I have Dutch ancestors, I mixed it with mash potatoes, and it was pretty good. Next I bought the kale chips (although you can make your own) and they were even better. Especially with that recommended chip dip recipe. |
Archives
August 2019
Categories |
RSS Feed