Middle Field Deciduous

A corner of the Middle Field has managed to accumulate a serious collection of large deciduous trees.  I must admit that, until recent years, I paid little attention to this small, quarter acre plot.  Japanese Honeysuckle, Autumn Olive and Multiflora Rose fought for dominance here.  Ground that wasn’t completely shaded, grew mostly Tall Fescue.  This was not an attractive spot and was not a priority for my early management efforts.  Now, a good stand of prairie vegetation borders this area to the west and I am doing what I can to encourage those plants to migrate in here.

To the south, another stand of prairie flourishes.  The key to getting the tall grasses to move into this corner is to increase the amount of sunlight reaching the ground.  The Autumn Olive and Multiflora Rose are gone.  The only major shade producers now are Tuliptree, Wild Black Cherry and Black Walnut. 

My plan is to cut the smaller trees off at ground level this spring and spray the stumps with glyphosate.  For now I’ve cut the trees about four feet above the ground so I could dismantle the tops and transport them to the brush pile without disturbing any growing vegetation.  I’m also doing that now, because I probably won’t have time for that work once spring arrives.

The brush pile has already reached considerable size and I would like to minimize the amount of material added to it.  For this reason, larger trees will be girdled at the base and the wound treated with glyphosate.  I’ve tried girdling as a means of killing trees and have been dissatisfied with the results because the affected trees either take forever to die, sprout furiously from the stump or heal the girdling wound, even when it seems I’ve cut the tree almost half way through.  Herbicide should eliminate any chance of the tree surviving my attack.  The dead trees will be a boon to the local woodpecker population.  As the brush pile rots down, it should be able to accommodate any annual fall of large chunks of dead wood shed by the trees.

I’ll be eliminating the last aerial tangle of Japanese Honeysuckle later this winter.  Inside that twisted mess are a couple of shrubs worth saving, so removing the honeysuckle vines is not a simple matter of running through with my mower.  That’s also part of the old fence line, so there’s the chance of encountering old fence wire, broken off steel posts and odd pieces of discarded metal.  The area is still covered with Japanese Honeysuckle sprawling at ground level.  At least after this is bunch is gone, it will all be down where I can more easily work on its elimination.

A couple of Tuliptrees have shot up inside the Sumac thicket.  Killing the trees will allow more beneficial sunlight into the sumacs.

The sumac is still holding on to its fruit.  Birds generally seek out this food source during times of deep snow cover.  Even though we’ve had an unusually large number of storms this year, less than seven inches of snow has fallen this winter.  Only two storms have produced more than an inch of snow and that melted within a few days of falling.

Winged Sumac generates new top growth from spreading rhizomes, so a single plant can have many upward growing trunks.  These seem to be short lived and there is always some dead growth that remains upright for a few years before falling over.  Woodpeckers find a wealth of insects living in the dead wood.

This is part of what they are looking for.  Bee larvae tucked away until warm weather triggers them to continue their transformation and emerge as adults.

I’m not sure what species these might be.  I think I’m safe in saying that they are either Leafcutter or Mason bees, since these are the two primary groups that utilize hollow stems and narrow cavities in which to place their nest cells.  The partitions seem to be composed of plant material and pith crumbs from inside the sumac stem.

The partitions of this older nest were constructed of mud.  Each partition has a hole used as an exit by the newly hatched adults.  It’s finding stuff like this that really distracts me from my work.  Of course, if I wasn’t fascinated by this sort of thing, I probably wouldn’t be doing the work at all.

Final Field Mowing of the Season

This field was on the schedule to be mowed in November, but the mowing was postponed until I could remove the small army of tiny cedars that had sprung up in the tall grass.  Cedar removal was completed on January 31, just ahead of an approaching storm front.  Four days later, the temperatures climbed above 40F and the last trace of snow melted away.  I hurried out to mow the field before the next storm, forecast for that night, could recover the field with snow.

I had several reasons for wanting to mow the field this year.  One reason was to knock back several small stands of sumac.  These are Winged Sumac, Rhus copallinum, and may get as tall as 20 feet if left to grow.  I maintain a couple of stands of the tall specimens, but most of the sumac is periodically cut to maintain it in a younger growth stage.  Two or three years after being cut, the plants flower profusely and develop a generous load of fruit.  The fruit remains uneaten during most winters, but during severe weather the fruit stands high above the snow and becomes an excellent survival food for the birds.  These plants have not yet reached that stage, but I’m trying to set up a rotation where there are always a few stands of sumac bearing fruit during the years when other sumacs are recovering from being cut.  Maintaining the sumac in an early stage of growth also allows them to grow as part of the open field environment without negatively impacting the tall grasses.

Several clumps of invasive Johnson Grass in this field were treated with herbicide last spring.  Having the field mowed will allow me to identify any other Johnson Grass infestations and treat them early next year.

This shallow four foot diameter crater was once the site of a thriving ant colony.  The mound peaked at 18 inches until Wild Turkeys selected it as a prime dust bath site.  During the course of three summer months, the turkeys turned the mound into a pit and then stopped using the site.  That was two years ago and vegetation has yet to reclaim the bare ground.

The site after mowing.  Mowing with JR is easiest when you are dealing with long, relatively straight runs.  Under those conditions you can shift into high speed and move along at a fast walk.  Unfortunately, this field doesn’t have any straight sections.  Most of the time I was weaving in and out of small corners and pockets or slowing down to maneuver around large cedars, small trees, ant hills and a number of other obstacles to my progress.  This will be the last mowing I do this year.  Besides having already mowed everything that was planned for this winter, I always stop mowing when the Woodcocks begin calling in the field.  I’m betting that will be in the next couple of days.

There is no shortage of ant mounds in this field.  In the acre and a half that I mowed, there were close to 20 large mounds.

The tall grass tends to shade the lower branches of the Eastern Red Cedars and those branches die.  This allows enough sunlight to get beneath the tree to maintain the grass that grows there.  If excess shade threatens the survival of the grass beneath the trees, manually trimming the lower branches should open things up enough for the grass to survive right up to the base of the tree.

There were only a few unwelcome woody invaders that had to be marked for cutting and herbicide treatment in the spring.  Most were Tuliptree seedlings, a species that is easily killed by a cut stump treatment of glyphosate.

A half dozen large Flowering Dogwoods survive along the lower slope of this field.  The trees thrive in this open, but sheltered area.

It appears that the dogwoods are set to put on a magnificent flower show this spring.  Each one of those large buds will open to produce a flower cluster surrounded by four brilliant white bracts.  Severe winter weather conditions commonly damage those buds and diminish the quality of the spring show.  Hopefully, this will be a year where each bud flowers to its full potential.

Sumac Fruit

Winged Sumac is the most consistent producer of fruit at Blue Jay Barrens. Regardless of the weather experienced during the growing season, the sumacs always produce a hefty crop of fruit.

The plump fruits begin the winter season with a bright red coat covered in short hairs that produce an acid substance. It may be this acidic compound that causes most birds to ignore this potential food source. By mid-winter, the meat of the fruit will dry to form a leathery coat around the seed. If the birds are finding plenty to eat, they’ll avoid the sumac. It’s just in years of hardship that they’ll turn to the sumacs as a source of emergency rations to carry them through to spring. Mockingbirds are about the only species I’ve seen eat sumac fruit on a regular basis. I’ve also seen Carolina Wrens picking insects out of the fruit clusters.

Winged Sumac grows to a height of 15 or 20 feet and will spread by rhizomes to produce a large thicket. I leave scattered clumps of tall sumacs, but periodically mow the rest of the sumac patches to keep them at a manageable size. If left unchecked, Winged Sumac can easily take over a whole field to the detriment of the grassland species. By mowing sumac patches in rotation every three or four years a short height is maintained, but fruit production remains high.

Untouched clusters of sumac fruit are an indication that the birds are finding an adequate food supply. In a typical year, other food sources carry the birds through winter and the sumac fruits are still present in the spring. To find the sumacs stripped of their fruits before the end of winter, usually means that the birds are in serious danger of starving to death before spring arrives.

Keeping scattered patches of sumacs unmowed allows me to enjoy the beauty of the mature plant. Winged Sumac is not a species that exhibits uniform growth patterns between in individuals. Each oddly shaped shrub is unique in form, but they all share a similar texture and color that creates a striking display. It’s also the older specimens that develop the interesting colonies of lichens on their trunks. I enjoy the Winged Sumacs in all seasons, but I’m especially cheered to see the fruits still untouched at the end of winter.

Sumac Fruits

There are still plenty of Sumac fruits for anything that cares to eat them. I’ve read that sumac fruit is a food of last resort for many birds. Since there are plenty of both birds and sumac fruit, I guess the birds have not yet reached that desperation point.

These are all Winged Sumac, Rhus copallinum. When these compound leaves are shed in the fall, the leaflets detach from the main stem and are easily blown away. The winged stem usually falls to the base of the plant, so a little bit of searching can help you confirm a winter identification.

The sumac spreads by way of root sprouts and the individual plants don’t live for very long. Each stand is full of dead trunks. This branch is shedding the dead bark along with its colony of lichens. New sprouts emerge annually to replace those that have died.

Exposed wood reveals tunnels left by borers that fed just below the bark. There are several species of beetle larvae that feed in this manner. Some attack living trees and others feed on the dead or dieing. I don’t know which type was feeding here.

The fruit has dried down over the seed. There have been years in which the birds stripped the sumacs clean of fruits. It’s a valuable asset to have unappetizing food that remains untouched until it’s really needed. Sort of like when we get snowed in and start eating those non-favorites that get pushed to the back of the pantry.

This is the same species of sumac that I was cutting in the prairies this winter. I still left plenty of thickets standing to provide this winter food source. I’m hoping at this point that the weather won’t cause a need for this fruit to be used.

Winged Sumac

The shrubs at Blue Jay Barrens seem to be having a contest to see which can have the most fruit and the reddest leaves. Winged Sumac, Rhus copallinum, is coming in as one of the favorites. This shrub can create beautiful crimson rafts through the grassland.

If there’s an upside, there has to be a downside and the downside to Winged Sumac is its aggressive behavior. A single plant can turn into a quarter acre patch in just a few years. If left uncontrolled, Winged Sumac can quickly turn an open prairie into a thicket.

Let’s jump back over to the upside. Winged Sumac is a short growing shrub with a canopy that remains semi-open until it reaches an age of about six years, so it takes a while before the grass starts to suffer. It also responds well to periodic mowing by regrowing with apparent increased vigor.

This vigor is expressed by production of an abundance of fruit clusters. I mow these patches every four or five years and fruit production is back to normal the second year after mowing.

The fruit dries around the seed and stays on the plant for several months. Birds usually begin feeding on these later in the winter. Use is heaviest in times of ice storms or deep snow.

Here’s the winged leaf that gives the plant its common name. This is an attractive plant in all seasons. I may try some in the yard to see how it behaves as a landscape plant.