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By Jeanne Church

When I first started taking nature pictures a few years ago, I didn’t realize there were so many places to explore in southwest Michigan that I had never even heard of before. I had been limiting myself to a few nearby areas that I already knew quite well, but soon found myself wanting more variety. My best resource for new preserves and sanctuaries ended up being the Southwest Michigan Land Conservancy (SWMLC).

The Southwest Michigan Land Conservancy is a local nonprofit conservation organization that is working to “improve our habitat, protect our water quality, support biodiversity, connect people with nature, and help families conserve the land they love.”

On its website, SWMLC (https://swmlc.org/) provides a map and descriptions for 17 of their public preserves in seven different counties that are free and open to the public from dawn to dusk. I have been to several of these preserves multiple times and have also become a member of the organization to help support their efforts in preserving and protecting the natural areas that I love.

One of the first SWMLC preserves I visited was Wolf Tree Nature Trails. A “wolf tree” is defined by Merriam-Webster as a “very large forest tree that has a wide-spreading crown and inhibits or prevents the growth of smaller trees around it.” One of the trees at the preserve probably sprouted from an acorn in the mid-1800s when settlers were still arriving from the East!

My first visit to the Wolf Tree Nature Trail came in the summer of 2017. As I exited my car, I was blown away by the wide expanse of wildflowers that greeted me! And, as you might imagine in a field full of flowers, there were butterflies everywhere busily working their magic. A photographer’s heaven!

Another SWMLC preserve I enjoyed visiting was Spirit Springs Sanctuary in Mendon. I arrived there shortly after daybreak on a warm July morning and was taken aback by the loud and lovely chorus of American bullfrogs echoing across the pond! I happen to love bullfrogs and have taken hundreds of pictures of them, but my favorite one came from this preserve!

Of all the nearby places where I have taken pictures, though, the one I visit most is neither a preserve nor a sanctuary— it’s a fish hatchery! The Wolf Lake State Fish Hatchery in Mattawan is a great place for a leisurely walk and a wonderful place for pictures! There are more than a dozen ponds on the property making it an attractive environment for a wide variety of critters including birds, butterflies, dragonflies, frogs and turtles—plus the occasional deer, fox, rabbit and eagle! The Fish Hatchery is free and open to the public every day of the year.

This is just a small sampling of all the beautiful places in southwest Michigan waiting for you to explore. Put aside your worries and discover how restorative a short walk with Mother Nature can be.

Jeanne’s blog: picturewalks.org

By Leeanne Seaver

The sound of sandhill cranes often wakes me as the flock descends to forage in a field nearby. Their primordial chorus is utterly unique and evocative. Something deep within me feels the instinct to call back. Maybe some elemental aspect of my DNA recognizes their ancient voices. Cranes make an almost prehistoric noise that would have been familiar to early humans living in wetland areas from Canada to Florida. Indeed, these birds have been around longer than our ancestors.

Factoid: Sandhill cranes are the oldest living bird species in the state. Their fossil record goes back 2.5 to 10 million years. If the pterodactyl and heron had a baby, it would probably look like these big gray birds. Both adult males and females sport a bright red splotch on their heads. Standing four to five feet tall with an average wing span of six to eight feet, they are also Michigan’s largest bird. Those wide wings are designed for soaring – as high as a mile up – which is a distinct advantage over strenuous flapping. Cranes can easily remain aloft for hours riding thermal currents and staying out of harm’s way on the ground. They’ve been clocked in flight at 50 mph, and have been known to cover nearly 500 miles a day.

The crane’s long-necked, spindly-legged presence is an important indicator of Michigan’s climate – both environmental and political. There are lots of marshy plants, seeds, insects and small amphibians to eat. Plus, every legislative proposal to legalize hunting sandhill cranes dies a swift death by committee at the Capitol.

Hunting sandhill cranes has been illegal in Michigan since 1916. Although they’re not considered an endangered species here, these magnificent birds still face significant threats from environmental pesticides, loss of habitat and foraging areas, plus the usual predators with an appetite for cranes and their eggs. Then there’s the human factor – cranes are famously intolerant of people. Approaching or encroaching on cranes is likely to prompt the nervous crane couple to abandon its nest entirely, which doesn’t bode well for the future of the species.

Left to their own devices, the monogamous breeding pair will set up housekeeping on the ground near marshes or bogs where there’s plenty of nesting material and good things to eat. April marks the beginning of the brood season. Both parents take turns incubating their brown-speckled eggs for up to 32 days. One to three babies hatch with eyes wide open. These downy-covered “colts” (not chicks) require a few weeks of intense feeding, although they begin exploring beyond the nest just 24 hours outside the egg.

Against all odds, one colt usually survives and hangs out with its feathered folks for a year – until the next brood hatches – which is why sandhill cranes are often seen in groups of three. Newly independent juveniles join in nomadic “survival” flocks until four to seven years of age when they start looking for love.

Cranes clearly like being with other cranes. Their social nature may be the key to their longevity – both as a species and as individual birds that have been known to live nearly four decades. A chatty lot, we can often hear sandhill cranes even if we can’t see them trilling and squawking and sounding at times like they just can’t clear their throats. Group trumpeting is part of a communication exchange that may help with locating food and roosting places, whereas “unison calling” between males and females is all about romance. Factoid: The female calls twice for every one male response. Make what you will of that.

While I can’t find anything to verify this theory, I believe some of that boisterous noise is announcing the location of their next dance. Wherever there are cranes, there’s going to be a dance. Crane couples will be doing an exuberant, leaping, twig-tossing, bouncing, beak-swishing dance. This is one of the most astonishing and beautiful things about sandhill cranes, but admittedly, their dancing is about more than courtship.

“Dancing facilitates pair bonding and allows rivals to assess one another and parents to educate their young chicks by dancing with them. Pre-adult cranes practice dancing for years before they select a mate. Courting cranes stretch their wings, pump their heads, bow, and leap into the air in a graceful and energetic dance.” (About Sandhill Cranes (songbirdprotection.com)

With amazing spectacles like that in mind, the Michigan Audubon Society has hosted the Sandhill Crane Festival every second weekend in October at the Baker Sanctuary near Bellevue. The event celebrates all things crane, and is timed to catch sight of the migration. This remarkable process begins in late summer and early fall when sandhill cranes by the thousands from Canada down through southern Michigan start their journey to warmer climes. The stunning exodus continues through late November, and the return begins in March.

Except for those few sandhill cranes that are content to stay here year-round.

You’ve seen them and heard them – the stalwart few who over-winter here. There’s usually enough roosting, food, and open water sources to maintain a small sandhill population in South County. And to all four seasons of my great delight, one of those hospitable locations is the stubble field within earshot of my morning.