Last of Fall from The Hill

I spend a lot of time enjoying the view from the top of The Hill. I like to pay special attention to those times between the seasons. The days just prior to the snowy season are especially attractive. Everything looks so fresh and clean. Three months from now it will all show wear from the winter’s snow and ice.

The hilltop prairie is looking particularly lush this year. The extra rain allowed all of the grasses to put on a little extra height. Hawks spend a lot of time hunting for voles in this field. The voles will have a little bit of extra cover this winter, but I doubt if that will protect them from the hawks.

There are usually not many noticeable changes from year to year. I’d be worried if the woods showed much of a change. That would be a sign of some catastrophe. The biggest change in the woods over the past 20 years has been the emergence of single trees that have outgrown their neighbors and pushed up above the surrounding canopy.

Tuliptrees continue to proclaim their dominance over the cedars. The Tuliptree trunks are almost unnoticeable when you are on the ground beneath the cedars. The trunks have no branches until the tree breaks into the sunlight. Each year, the Tuliptree crown spreads a little farther and increases the amount of shade thrown on the cedars. The cedars will be the eventual losers in the struggle, but that event is still decades into the future.

The early morning sun makes the Indian Grass glow. I never tire of this view and enjoy the field in all of its various developmental stages.

From The Hill

It won’t be long before the trees leaf out and the long view from The Hill effectively disappears. I enjoy the view, but I also enjoy having the view blocked. The change is like drawing the curtains. It gives me the feeling of being in a closed, intimate setting. At this time of year, I give the distant landscapes a last check before they get put away for the summer. This view is looking into the direction of the prevailing wind. Somewhere out there is the source of the trash I seem to be constantly picking up.

Looking toward the point of the ridge, I can see young cedars growing in the tall grass. Every four or five years I take my loppers and wander back and forth snipping off the little cedars. When the cedars become visible in the spring, I make a note on the calendar to schedule cedar maintenance for the coming winter. Cedar maintenance is the term I use to describe control of new cedar sprouts in an area that I have previously cleared.

The view of the woods will change dramatically in the next couple of weeks. I haven’t been out to see how many trees went down during the storm winds early Wednesday morning. Radar estimates showed wind speeds during the storm to be between 60 and 80 miles per hour. I’m sure some more trees came down and they probably came down over one of the trails.

This is the field that was mowed in December of 2009. There are probably a few trees sprouting out there somewhere, but it’ll be a couple of years before they become noticeable. I love the look of a field full of tall grass unbroken by trees. The tree swallows have pretty much taken over the field this year. Only one nest box houses bluebirds. The rest contain Tree Swallows. For every swallow pair in a box, there seem to be two pairs waiting for the chance to claim the box for themselves. It’s constant chattering and chasing as the occupants try to maintain their chosen nest site.

The Indiangrass has attracted two territorial Henslow’s Sparrows. They’ve been calling day and night for over a week. So far, this is the best shot I’ve been able to get of one of the sparrows. Don’t bother straining your eyes. The birds have been staying down in the grass and I have yet to see one this spring. It’s fortunate that they have such a distinctive call. Otherwise I wouldn’t even know they were there.

First Frost

The temperature dropped to 30 degrees yesterday morning and I decided to slip out back to see if the whiteness on the grass was actually frost. As I went through the door, I saw some neat fog ribbons forming along the hillsides, so I decided to head up The Hill to see if I could get some good photos.

Along the way I verified the first frost of the season. Many people mark the first frost and it’s a safe topic of conversation in most crowds. Ask just anyone if they had frost and they’re more than willing to discuss the subject. If people paid the same attention to all common seasonal events in nature there’d be a lot more opportunities to initiate a conversation with someone you didn’t know. Can you imagine looking at some stranger in the grocery checkout line and saying, “Have the salamanders hit the breeding ponds out your way yet?” That’s enough about that. I’m almost to the top of The Hill.

The little bit of fog is giving us a true starburst sunrise.

As temperatures begin to change, ribbons of fog flow like a river. It looks as though the fog is trying to out run the rising sun in an attempt to continue its existence for a little while longer.

Fog untouched by the sun remains less concentrated. As the sun continued to rise, the rest of the band turned to a thin ribbon before dissipating completely.

The band of fog along the woods has almost completely disappeared. Just a final streamer left and enough haze to make it look as though my camera lens is dirty.

The Hill is at a lower elevation than the wooded ridge, so the sun has not yet reached this point. The formation and disappearance of the fog ribbons was completed in a matter of minutes. If I had been five minutes later I would have missed the whole thing. As I stood in the ice covered grass watching the last of the fog disappear, I just wished I had something more substantial on my feet than an old pair of worn out Chucks. I was correct in my original assumption that I didn’t have time to change into warmer footwear before running up The Hill, but that didn’t make my feet feel any better.

Late Summer View from the Hill

I probably spend more time on top of The Hill than I do at any other single place at Blue Jay Barrens. From that vantage point you can make a quick assessment of the condition of many of the special ecosystems found on the property. The view across the old cropfield shows a vast stand of Indian Grass just reaching its prime.

This section of trail was flanked by coneflowers earlier in the season. Thos flowers have been eclipsed by the Indian Grass, but their ripening seed heads are still there among the grass stems and the flowers will be back in place early next summer. It’s hard to imagine this field as having a solid stand of Oats just 25 years ago.

The combination of flowering Indian Grass and wind make a vibrant and ever changing display. As the flower heads whip and swirl, I can’t help thinking that the plants are frisking like a young colt running and kicking up its heals. In the spring, Tall Fescue and Oxeye Daisy appeared masters of the field, but when I look at this, I can’t help but believe that Indian Grass will rise to dominance.

By looking in the opposite direction, we can check the progress of a field that hasn’t seen a row crop in over 60 years. Gray Goldenrod usually speckles this field with yellow at this time of year, but it has been noticeably absent this year. That’s somewhat surprising given the abundance of plants we had last year and the number of healthy basal leaf clusters I saw during the winter. The numbers of other goldenrod species also seem to be diminished this year. I wonder if all the early rains made it a bad growing season for goldenrod.

From The Hill you can look across the valley at the cedar thickets and on to the deciduous woodland. This will be a totally different scene a month from now when the trees change color. I’m beginning to see a patchwork of lighter greens caused by moisture loving trees that are beginning to pale because of the current drought. It’s a big change from June when we were wondering if the rain would ever end and the trees were putting on an especially lush growth.

A Quick Walk Up The Hill

It’s bad enough in the winter when you go to work in the dark and get home in the dark, but it’s ridiculous when that happens to you in the summer. I’ve had a rough time this past week getting home before it was too dark to take photos. Last night the sun had set on the house, but I figured I could catch the last of the illumination if I headed up The Hill. The Hill is one of the places I go to have a quick look around when I have a few free minutes. I’ve been watching the progress of the growth in the field that was mowed last winter. Things are really looking nice and I think I ought to walk through there this weekend and get a closer look.

The fence row on the east side of the field is showing quite a few dead trees. Many of the dead are Sassafras, a species that tends to grow rapidly and die early. New shoots are constantly growing to replace what is lost. This is a wonderful area for watching foraging woodpeckers.

The sun has disappeared, leaving 88 degrees and a lot of humidity. Dew is already thick on the grass and a hazy fog is developing. I feel a sweaty weekend coming on.

As I headed back toward the house, I spotted a group of agitated birds moving along the edge of the field. In the center of the group was a bright blue bird with brownish shoulder patches. I’ve seen Blue Grosbeaks here before, but never at this time of year. When I took these shots, I knew it was too dark to get any clarity. I just hoped I could manage to get a shot that documented what I saw.

These photos are clear enough to validate the sighting of Blue Grosbeaks and would support a notation in my field notes stating that on July 23, 2010 approximately ten minutes after sunset I saw a pair of Blue Grosbeaks with what appeared to be four fledglings slightly smaller in size than the adult birds.

This is where the sighting occurred. The birds were around that clump of walnut sprouts to the right of the photo and moved out toward the center of the field at my approach. Over the weekend I’ll search further for the birds and take in a look in those walnuts for a recently used nest. I’ll have to put out of my mind the 72 billion chiggers that are in that field waiting for me.

View from Snowy Hill

The snow is now gone, but these photos haven’t yet reached their seven day limit. I thought I would go ahead and post them, just in case we didn’t get any more snow this year. Winter is the season when drastic visual changes can occur within a day and people will notice that a picture, even though recent, does not depict the conditions of the day. The trail leads down to the house, which can be seen in the right center of the photo. The trail makes a super sledding track, but you have to know how to steer because you’re in trouble if you run into one of the ant hills at the bottom.

The mowed field. Dogwoods, little shrubs and red flags really stand out against the snow. The Red-shouldered Hawk continues to hunt in this field.

In the background is the woods on the ridge top. You know the ridge isn’t very wide when you can see the sky through the trees. Between the prairie in the foreground and the woods, is the valley and creek.

The dry snow filtered between the grass stalks, so all of the seed heads were left standing. Last year at about this time, we experienced a storm that left the grass flattened by heavy, wet snow and freezing rain.

Looking out the ridge towards the west. Little Bluestem and Side-oats Gramma dominate here, so there’s not much in the way of grass stems to hide the snow. The two Yucca plants really stand out. They’re targeted for termination. Notice the dark shape beneath the cedar just left of center.

Cropped and enlarged, you can see that this is a doe that bedded down where she could watch all approaches. She’s watching as I wander around the top of the hill. She didn’t stay around long once I started heading in her direction.

The Hill Revisited

Have you ever noticed at the end of a hike that there are people who hang back after the goodbyes have been said and departures have begun and say something like “You mentioned a panoramic view from the top of the hill. Do we have time to go see that?” Well, in this case we do have time, so we’ll go back passed the pine trees and head up the hill. The first thing you might notice is how straight this route is and after I just told you that straight trails should be avoided. In this case the trail follows the old farm lane and that means no curves.

This ant hill has grown to intrude upon the trail. This is a wonderful hill for winter sledding. There is an abrupt drop off into the field on both sides, so sledders need to stay to the center. It’s also poor form to hit the ant hill, so a keen sled steering ability is a must here.

Passed the Redbuds the trail narrows as we near the top of The Hill. Indian Grass is beginning to crowd in on both sides of the trail.

West toward the Ohio Brush Creek Valley. A little hazy, but not the thick fog we saw in late spring. The remains of a dead Sycamore are easy to see against the dark green cedar. This is a wonderful place to watch storms approach, but you don’t want to linger here too long. This hill top is a prime location for lightening strikes.

The hill top prairie is composed primarily of short grasses. Most of the earlier flowers have finished blooming and the goldenrods and asters are just beginning.

The tree line of the woods takes on a jagged appearance as some trees fall and others prosper. The woods in the background have been periodically logged, but has always maintained near 100% canopy cover. The wooded slope showing as a mix of cedars and deciduous trees was being farmed around 1920. All the trees have sprung up since then.

Here’s the big field showing off its cover of Indian Grass. The darker green patches have a heavier population of Goldenrods. The trail we walked last week followed the tree line on the left and then cut across the field toward the pine trees in the upper right. Now we’ll have to call this walk finished. I have other things I need to get on to.

View from The Hill

Within the boundaries of Blue Jay Barrens there are very few named locations. The most well known location is The Hill that is found a few hundred feet behind the house. If you tell someone you are going “Up The Hill” it means your destination is that shown in the photo above. The short grassy area in the foreground is the top of The Hill.

The Hill affords some nice views of the surrounding area. This field was used to raise grain crops until it was planted to a solid stand of Orchardgrass in 1985. Since then, the field has done a good job of reverting to native prairie vegetation from seed sources naturally occurring on the property. The dead stalks are primarily Indiangrass. You can see one of seven boxes in this field that are used by Bluebirds and Tree Swallows. This field also hosts Henslow’s and Field Sparrows.

In the far distance is the Ohio Brush Creek Valley. Amongst the nearby Eastern Red Cedars are openings full of native prairie flora and fauna. The Tulip Poplar on the right took advantage of the moisture from a wet weather seep to establish itself on this dry hillside.

This section of The Hill is a good example of a Xeric Limestone Prairie (XLP). XLP’s are characterized by prairie and other specialized vegetation growing on dry shallow soil supported by limestone bedrock. These areas go by a number of names, usually including the term prairie, barren or glade.

The wooded area on the ridge top in the background is the site of the Potato Dandelion. The slope below the woods is primarily large Red Cedar with a few openings for prairie plants. Ice storms rip the tops out of cedars and create openings for deciduous trees to grow. Tuplip Poplar are taking advantage of these holes and are giving the cedars some strong competition. A Chuck-Will’s-Widow has been calling from this area for the past couple of weeks.