Life & Choice

From our earliest days of independence, our life is governed by the choices that we make.  These may relate to relationships, friendships, career plans, beliefs and a wide variety of personal commitments. 

Some of the choices are dramatic, life-altering events while many are subtle and barely remembered.  Some may be impulsive while others are made after an agonizing period of rumination.  Nevertheless, over time, they all define our life and determine both are level of satisfaction and our happiness.

It is late in life that our choices are most closely reviewed.  They can now be placed in the context of our overall life story and more clearly judged now that the consequences are known.  Regrets may surface but, by then, we have learned that they are an unavoidable component of the human condition.  It is our willingness to accept responsibility for our choices, however recent or long ago, that lets us bow out with grace.

Outdoor Reading Season

My favorite time of year has returned: Outdoor Reading Season.  The oppressive heat and humidity of summer have moved south, replaced by relatively cool air and less intense sunshine.  Great conditions for reading (and/or napping).

Those who can only read in silent rooms will find outdoor reading nearly impossible.  The nearby and distant whine of mowers and leaf blowers is, unfortunately, ever present.  Then there are the chatter of squirrels, the raucous calls of jays and crows and the softer but persistent yanks of nuthatches.

But the weather is perfect for absorbing a chapter or two or, better yet, a truly-short short story.  One has his or her limits and those are mine. 

From Diversity to Survival

Throughout the warmer months of the year, April through September in the Northern Hemisphere, we birders take note of the fabulous diversity of avian residents and migrants that reside in or visit our neighborhoods and nature preserves.  Some species are permanent residents, others are summer residents and many are transient visitors, simply migrating through our area.

For those of us in the Temperate Zone, the summer residents and transient visitors have left for more southern climes by mid October and the first winter residents are beginning to arrive.  Having raised their young up north, they, like our permanent residents, tend to gather in mixed flocks, assisting one another in the search for food during these colder, shorter days of the year.  Such feeding groups often appear for brief periods of time before moving on to their next source of nutrition.

Augmenting their chance of survival, most of our winter residents sport rather drab plumage, blending in with the seasonal landscape.  Then again, accipiters, kestrels and red-shouldered hawks will get their fair share.  

Another Sluggish Migration

On this beautiful, cool, sunny morning in central Missouri, a friend and I hoped to see a fair variety of waterfowl at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area.  Alas, our sightings were limited to four Canada Geese, a half-dozen mallards and ten pied-billed grebes.

Now in limited access mode due to duck hunting and waterfowl refuge restrictions at the refuge, neither seemed warranted in light of our count.  Not long ago, when Eagle Bluffs was a vast wetland, thousands of geese, ducks, coot and grebes would grace the floodplain by mid October.  Today, due in part to reduced open water at the refuge but also to warmer conditions up north, the autumn waterfowl migration is not peaking until much later in the season.

Indeed, this sluggish fall migration, observed in recent years, is surely a reflection of our warming climate.  Not responsive to the solar cycle, waterfowl head south when lakes and wetlands freeze over, blocking their food supply.  Until then, we'll enjoy watching the raptors. 

Watching Autumn Arrive

Hiking around Perry Phillips Lake on this sunny, cool morning, I observed a thick band of dark clouds across the northwestern horizon.  Having watched the Weather Channel earlier in the day, I knew that it was the leading edge of a cold front that will push across the Midwest over the next 24 hours.  Freeze warnings are in place for the Upper Midwest tonight while, here in Missouri, a frost warning is in effect.

Out on the lake, an osprey and a pied-billed grebe hunted for their breakfast while flocks of noisy Canada geese passed overhead, seemingly declaring the onset of autumn.  Other than a lone, chatty northern mockingbird, songbirds were relatively inactive and quiet, perhaps in response to the atmospheric change.

By the time I completed the 1.4 mile loop, the cloud bank had reached Columbia, temporarily blocking out the bright October sunshine.  At least for now, autumn has displaced our long, hot, miserable summer.  

Gestalt Traveling

Now heading back to Columbia, we very much enjoyed our journey across "the top" of Lake Superior and managed to hit all the highlights that my wife had researched and organized prior to the trip.  But, in the end, I engage in gestalt traveling, most interested in the topography, hydrology, geology, natural history and ecology of the landscapes through which I wander.

Though each planned stop was both fascinating and educational, it is their place in the overall regional environment that garnered my attention.  Whether I encountered expected wildlife species or not,  I knew they were present and understood their vital role in the varied ecosystems of Western Ontario.

Back in June of 2023, I made the same general points in Gestalt Birding.  We naturalists cannot divorce any element of nature from its dependence on and interaction with all other components of the environment.  

Lake Superior Provincial Park

Covering 600 square miles, the beautiful yet rugged terrain of Lake Superior Provincial Park begins just south of Wawa.  Route 17 initially runs through the heart of the refuge before paralleling the lakeshore in its southern portion.

Forested hills, whitewater streams, secluded lakes and wetlands (photo) characterize most of this fabulous refuge while scenic coves line Lake Superior.  An inviting Visitor Center is off Route 17 on Agawa Bay, near the south end of the Park.

Following a week of sunshine and relatively warm weather, we endured chilly, wet, windy conditions during our visit to the Park today.  Hoping that the inclement weather might increase our opportunity to see moose, bear and wolves, we drove along a number of backroads and scouted out a wide variety of lakes and wetlands.  Alas, no sightings to report. 

Down Superior's East Coast

About ten miles south of Marathon, Ontario, Route 17 cuts away from the Lake, crossing relatively open terrain with less topographic relief.  Then, just south of White River, it climbs onto a broad ridge of forested hills, studded with scenic lakes.

Nearing the town of Wawa, the highway descends from that ridge.  There we headed east on Route 101 and drove almost 40 miles to The Potholes, a small but fascinating Provincial Park that highlights the power of the Pleistocene glaciers and the force of their meltwater torrents along the Kinniwabi River (see photo).

Back in Wawa, we visited High Falls on the Magpie River, Silver Falls, Sandy Beach and, south of town, Old Woman's Bay; photos of these destinations will be rotated with other Ontario scenes in the right hand column of this blog over the coming weeks.  Today, we head down to Lake Superior Provincial Park, among the largest refuges in the network.  Happy Thanksgiving to all Canadians!  

Pukaskwa National Park

Located south of Marathon, Ontario, Pukaskwa National Park covers 725 square miles; the great majority of this area is protected wilderness, accessible only by backcountry trails.  For those of us no longer able to engage in such activity, the Park's northwest corner still has plenty to offer.

Covering an area along the Lake Superior shoreline and just south of the Pic River, this more accessible portion offers a pleasing mix of trails, boardwalks and beach excursions that offer spectacular views of rocky headlands and offshore islands (photo).  Massive accumulations of driftwood cover some beach sections.

Away from the shore, a fine trail loop circles Lac a mi Chemin, where moose may be observed early or late in the day; among other wildlife species in the Park are black bear, wolves, lynx, river otters and bald eagles.  Finally, a well-maintained campground invites an overnight stay for those equipped to do so.  

Aguasabon Provincial Park

At the west end of Terrace Bay, Ontario, is Aguasabon Provincial Park, renowned for its scenic gorge and waterfall.  Visitors can take a winding boardwalk down to a deck that overlooks both of these features (photo).

The Park also offers a woodland trail to its Beach or you can drive down to the beach lot from outside the Provincial Park grounds.  The dark-sand beach stretches along a scenic cove, guarded by jagged rock formations at each end and offering views of barren offshore islands.

The beach, like many along the North Coast of Lake Superior, appeared to be popular for agate hunting.  This is not surprising in light of the ancient volcanic strata that characterize this region. 

Ouimet Canyon

Another spectacular natural landscape in Western Ontario is Ouimet Canyon, about an hour northeast of Thunder Bay, off Highway 17.  Steep-walled and narrow, the Canyon protects Arctic plants that were established in its chilly, shaded base during the Pleistocene Epoch (2 million to 10,000 years ago).

The Ouimet Canyon walls are composed of diabase, about 1 billion years old, that was apparently compressed and cracked by the Pleistocene glaciers, triggering an erosive process that has included the intrusion of glacial meltwater, freeze-thaw cycles and rock falls.  Of course, such gradual erosion continues today.

A fine loop trail leads visitors from the parking lot out to two overlook decks that extend beyond the Canyon walls; watch for ruffed grouse in the woodlands during your hike.  We highly recommend a visit to Ouimet Canyon Provincial Park for those traveling through this region of Ontario. 

Kakabeka Falls

Perhaps the most well known and heavily visited natural feature in Western Ontario is Kakabeka Falls on the Kaministiquia River, 24 miles west of Thunder Bay.  Dropping 130 feet in several powerful torrents, it is often referred to as the Niagara Falls of the North.

Kakabeka Falls is protected within a Provincial Park and can be viewed from boardwalks and stairways on both sides of the river.  During our brief visit this morning, my wife and I agreed that it is one of the most impressive cascades that we have had the pleasure to visit. 

The geology of Kakabeka Falls is also of interest.  A resistant capstone of chert overlies soft shale of the Gunflint Formation, 1.8 billion years old; within this shale, fossils of ancient stromatolites have been discovered.  As the shale erodes beneath the chert caprock, the latter plunges into the gorge and the waterfall slowly retreats upstream. 

Lake Superior's Northwest Coast

From Duluth, Minnesota, Route 61 winds northeastward above the northwest shore of Lake Superior, lined with overlooks, ancient basalt cliffs, resorts and State Parks.  West of the highway rise the Sawtooth Highlands (elevations about 2300 feet), ablaze with fall color this time of year (photo).  Of note, the surface of Lake Superior is 600 feet above sea level, somewhat lower than I would have expected.

About 150 miles from Duluth, Route 61 crosses the Pigeon River and enters Ontario, Canada.  From this border, the highway cuts away from the Lake and enters more open terrain, studded with massive loaves of volcanic rock; these formations are remnants of incomplete continental rifting more than one billion years ago (comparable to the Rio Grande and East African Rifts occurring in modern times).

A chain of these domes stretches west from Thunder Bay, where visitors (for a fee) can drive onto Mount McKay for a spectacular view of the city and its natural harbor. 

Land of Ancient Rock

Having visited the Upper Peninsula of Michigan on several occasions in the past, my wife and I are very familiar with the southern shore of Lake Superior.  This coming week, we will explore its northern shore, where outcrops of ancient Precambrian rocks adorn the scenery and where a string of Ontario parks and nature preserves line the coast.

The rock strata, the youngest of which formed at least 100 million years before life crawled from the sea, are best observed along roadcuts, stream valleys and lake shores and we will surely observe many of them as we travel along the northern edge of Lake Superior.

Earth formed about 4.6 billion years ago, life evolved in the sea about 3.6 billion years ago and plate tectonics is thought to have begun by 2.5 billion years ago.  Most of the rocks exposed along the North Shore of Lake Superior are 1-2 billion years old.  Of course, the Great Lakes themselves are much younger, having formed during the last glacial period of the Pleistocene Epoch, the Wisconsin Glaciation, 70-10 thousand years ago (well after humans had evolved).  See: Formation of the Great Lakes  

A Welcome Evolution at Eagle Bluffs

Arriving at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area just after sunrise, a friend and I found that most of the floodplain was obscured by dense fog after cool air had settled in the Missouri River Valley overnight.  Fortunately, as the sun rose and the air warmed, the fog gradually diminished.

Finally able to scan the landscape, we found that water levels have increased significantly, just in time for the arrival of duck hunters later in the month.  On the other hand, few water birds had yet to take advantage of the change; only eight pied-billed grebes, five great blue herons, two American coot and a lone mallard were observed.  Clouds of red-winged blackbirds and a couple-dozen turkey vultures were the only sizable flocks.  In total, thirteen avian species were encountered during our visit.

No doubt, the rising waters will attract significant flocks of waterfowl over the next couple of months but birdwatching access will be limited once hunting begins.  Nevertheless, the sight of flowing water and expanding pools was reassuring on that desiccated floodplain. 

The Mexico-Kansas Express

Leaving Denver on this clear, cool autumn morning, I noted a dusting of snow on Mt. Blue Sky, a "Fourteener" west of the city; looking to the south, I saw that Pike's Peak was completely snow covered. This early season snow, the first along the Front Range this fall, reflects the impact of Hurricane Polo's recent moisture plume, combined with a cold front that swept in from the northwest.

More impressive were flooded fields throughout western Kansas, an area that was in a prolonged drought until it found itself in Polo's crosshairs.  Indeed, the Hurricane's swath of heavy rain passed right through that area, reaching as far northeast as Minnesota.

To encounter pools of tropical moisture across the semiarid environment of the High Plains was a clear sign that Earth's ecosystems are interconnected.  No doubt, as our climate warms, this fact will become impossible to ignore. 

A Red Fox Returns II

As I reported in the original post, A Red Fox Returns, published in August of 2020, the presence or absence of red fox on our Littleton farm has a significant impact on the cottontail population (and I suspect on the number of mice and voles as well).  Indeed, for the past six months or so, fox have been absent and the rabbits have returned, kept in check only by hawks and owls.

Late yesterday morning, a red fox sauntered across the back of our property, nose to the ground.  Since he or she had not yet grown a thick winter coat, our new resident or visitor looked like a juvenile; on the other hand, following a long, hot summer, one might expect such a svelte appearance.  Whether it is our long term female resident or a young adventurer, its decision to stay on the farm will spell trouble for the cottontails and other prey species.

One of the benefits of owning a sizable piece of property (if only three acres) is the opportunity to observe the interaction of wild residents and visitors over time, including the arrival of unexpected species.  While a balance is generally maintained in large ecosystems, smaller sanctuaries highlight the population gyrations that relate directly to the availability of food sources (whether vegetative or animal). 

Tiny Travelers II

Walking along the South Platte River early this morning, I encountered a relatively small number and variety of birds.  Almost all were common, permanent residents of the Front Range urban corridor.

A rewarding exception was the presence of two Wilson's warblers, flitting about the riverside shrubs in search of insects.  Very small and active, this species breeds and summers high in the mountains, often along alpine lakes near timberline.  The pair that I observed this morning are likely on their way to Mexico for the colder months, though some migrate only to the Gulf Coast or to southernmost California.

On this cloudy, cool morning, they seemed to be in no hurry to head south, apparently finding plenty of sustenance in the shrubbery.  I watched them from a bench for twenty minutes or so and then moved on to enjoy my own breakfast.