From Fence Row to Field

I finished removing invasive shrubs from the south end of the fence row, so I decided to move on out and get rid of invasives in the adjoining field.  The area is about a quarter of an acre and has had very little done to it during the last 20 years.

A combination of mowing, sawing and lopping easily took care of the Multiflora Rose and Autumn Olive.  I think the fence row is now open enough to allow the prairie grasses to migrate through into this part of the field.  The shrub in the center of the photo looks to be quite dense, but most of that mass is Japanese Honeysuckle.  The vines have been cut off at ground level, so those aerial parts will no longer grow.  Sometime before spring, I’ll pull out the vines so the shrubs can grow normally.

While I was clearing I ran across a couple of massive Autumn Olives.  I cut the stumps high so there are more sprouts to receive the glyphosate herbicide in the spring.  The tall stump is easier to see in thick vegetation, so I’m less likely to fall over it.  It’s also too high for me to accidentally run the mower over if I mow this field again before the stump decomposes.

The Autumn Olive cuttings made a good addition to the brush pile.

One extra large ant mound and two junior associates sit in the center of the quarter acre.  With the area being more open, I would expect the number of mounds to increase.

The north side of the clearing is bounded by a thicket of Dwarf Sumac.  A few Tuliptrees have grown up among the sumacs.  I’ll cut the Tuliptrees and allow the sumacs to grow unchallenged in this spot.

On the side of the field opposite the fence row is the thicket of Virginia Pine.  The pines are also being threatened by Tuliptrees.  Tuliptrees are rapid growers that sprout readily in the areas of low pH soils.  Fortunately, they’re easy to cut and their growth habit makes them easy to section up for placement on the brush pile.

While clearing, I found balloon number one for the 2012 season.  The bleached ribbon and weathered balloon show that this bit of trash has been here for a while.  The annual count I keep is of balloons found at Blue Jay Barrens.  When the balloon actually arrived doesn’t matter.  I’m sure I’ll be finding the remains of fresh balloons once the outdoor party season arrives.

February Prairie Greens

The prairies always look their most desolate in February.  The grasses have weathered several winter storms and have lost most of their bright colors.  Add to that the fact that I’ve been looking at the same brown color for three months and you can understand why I make an annual February search for growing plants hidden beneath the drab grasses.

I have to give credit to some of the grasses for maintaining a remnant of their fiery brightness through the winter.  Elliott’s Beard Grass adds a flash of color to the winter prairie landscape, but I’m looking for some living plant parts.

Hidden within the tall grasses, Blue-green Sedge has fresh green leaves throughout the winter.  Long periods of freezing days with no snow cover sometimes browns the leaf tips, but it’s evident that this species is adding new growth at every opportunity.

Gray Goldenrod also slowly adds growth through the winter.  This is the normal condition for these native plants.  Unlike some cultivated plants that are putting on early growth because of the mild winter, the native plants are responding to other cues and growing according to their natural pattern.  They will survive and prosper no matter what variances in winter weather may occur.

For many native plants, day length is a stimulus that moves them from one stage of growth to another.  Rose-pink basal rosettes remain small but active during the winter.  No matter how warm the February days, the plants won’t enlarge and prepare to flower until the proper time in the spring.  Rose-pink is a biennial that depends on its crop of seeds to insure future generations.  If plants like these couldn’t time their flowering to best advantage, the species would not persist.

Pasture Thistle is another biennial that is regularly active through the cold season.  The number of winter rosettes gives a hint to the number of blooms you’ll see later on.  This plant is a particular favorite of mine.  The bright purple thistle flowers are a lead in to the prairie blooming season.  The thistles sort of set the mood for what’s to come.  Indications today, forecast a very colorful prairie this summer.

A Chunk of Cedar

Part of a tree trunk lying on the ground is a perfectly natural occurrence.  Having that piece of wood display the clean cut of a chain saw somehow makes it appear quite unnatural.  Regardless of its method of arrival, it behaves naturally enough during its process of decomposition and no wild creature is going to fault it for succumbing to the power of the saw.

This exposure does give an interesting look at the pattern of decomposition inside the section of trunk.  I wonder what it was about that particular band that made it so susceptible to decomposition.  The center section is always the most rot resistant portion of the log.  In a fresh cut specimen, this part is colored red.  The outside shell retains moisture for only short periods at a time, so decomposes more slowly than the deeper wood that holds on to its moisture.  I’ve seen this same decomposition pattern on whole logs, but it’s odd that the end portion that has been fully exposed to the elements for the past 30 years doesn’t show a different pattern from that further into the section.

A loose section is easily removed to reveal the compost that resulted from decomposition.  It looks like some mighty rich material that would provide plenty of nutrients to a plant that was able to tap the bounty.  It might be several more decades before the outside layer of wood finally reaches the point where the log crumbles to the ground.

Mosses and lichens form a thick cover over much of the wood.  The mat gives the appearance of harboring a variety of species.

It sometimes takes decades for moss and lichen colonies such as these to develop.  The resistance to decomposition displayed by Eastern Red Cedars makes it reasonable to expect large fallen cedar logs to provide a secure base for 50 to 100 or more years.  Old colonies utilize every bit of space available on the log and continually grow more complex with the passing years.  The various forms of life utilizing the section of cedar trunk are performing perfectly natural functions.  I guess it’s just my personal bias that puts a note of artificiality to the whole affair just because I can see a human inflicted cut on the surface of the wood.

Red-Bellied Woodpecker

Most birds that I see in the yard are here because of the feeders.  They spend time eating close to the house, but much of their time is spent in the surrounding woods and fields behaving as birds should.  Occasionally, an individual bird becomes noticeable because of its continuous presence in the yard.  This Red-Bellied Woodpecker has become one of those birds.

I’ve seen this male Red-Bellied Woodpecker visiting the feeder for several months.  It’s usually a morning visitor to the sunflower seed feeder and although I’ve never seen him actually eat one, he makes off with several seeds every day. 

He’s easy to recognize, because he hides his seeds in a hole in the tree that’s only a few feet from the feeder.  Quite a bit of time is spent getting them situated just right.

When the seed is finally in place, he looks all around as though he wants to make sure he was not observed adding to his food cache.

After he’s stored a sufficient amount of seed, he heads off to the Silver Maple or one of the Black Walnuts near the edge of the yard.  This is usually his preening time.

Recently, he’s been giving a lot of attention to the lower side of one of the branches of the dead Silver Maple.  That part of the tree is not visible from the window.  When I saw his head and upper body disappear from sight, I had a good idea of what was going on.

I guess if he’s going to spend all of his time in the yard, he ought to have his home here.  He won’t get much exercise with the feeder only eight feet from his front door.  It would really be neat if a woodpecker pair actually nested in this hole.

Fence Row Work Continues

The section of old fence row that I’ve been clearing measures approximately a quarter mile in length and with varying widths, has an area of roughly three quarters of an acre.  Recurring rain and snow storms have made it difficult to maintain a continuing effort on this clearing project.  It seems that by the time the ground dries up from one precipitation event, I only have a couple of hours to work before the next event occurs.  Despite the interruptions, I’ve managed to work my way into the heart of the fence row.

I’ve tackled several large Autumn Olive shrubs that have been out of reach for many years.  The branches cover quite an area when they are all laid out awaiting their trip to the brush pile.  After seeing all of the branches, it’s easy to understand why the fence row was so difficult to see through. 

The super sized Autumn Olive that once stood atop this stump took up quite an area.  With it gone, you can see down into the woods below and on across to the far field near the road.

Other areas are more a tangle of medium sized Multiflora Rose.  This situation calls for a mixture of hand cutting and mowing.

With all of the non-native material removed, the fence row is quite open.  The next job here will be the evaluation of the native species that have been left and the determination of which individuals will be left in place and which must be removed.  The ultimate in this fence row clearing is to make corridors that join this field with the two in the distance, so that there can be some interaction between the prairie ecosystems occurring in each area.  That doesn’t mean the complete removal of what’s left in the fence row.  It just means a few well positions gaps and some thinning.

No matter how nice a February day is, you know that as evening comes, the temperature is going to take a sharp drop.  The worst thing that can happen is to find yourself soaked with sweat when those temperatures begin to fall.  A clue that I’m out working is a trail of clothing hung on branch stubs along my route.  No matter how warm you get while working, it’s really nice to have something dry to put on when the sunlight and warmth disappear.

I used blue flags to mark the boundaries of the fence wire laying on the ground, so I could work in close with JR without catching the wire on the blade.  In some places the fence slumped down on top of itself and the horizontal wires are in a narrow band.  In other places, the fence fell over sideways so the wire is occupying an area four feet wide.  Some of the wire is buried, some attached to trees and some is entangled by growing trees and shrubs. To go in and start removing all of the downed wire is a project for another time.

Much of the time I spend working on a project is not actually spent on activities that result in progress toward the completion of that project.  I spend a lot of my time just looking at things I find within the work area.  I’ll study what I’ve done and what still needs to be accomplished.  I’ll study the plants, animals and ground features that I see, plus anything else I find of interest.  I was happy to find this spent Cecropia Moth cocoon.  It’s been several years since I’ve seen an adult Cecropia on the property, so it’s nice to see that they are still around.  The exit hole from the inner chamber is typical of a successfully emerged adult moth.

It’ll be a lot of fun this summer to watch the native plants reclaim this old fence row area.  The summer view from this point on the field trail has just been the fence row.  There were never any breaks that afforded a view of what lay beyond.  It’ll be interesting to see what type of view develops when the trees put on leaves.

Oak vs Honeysuckle

After removing an Autumn Olive shrub and its attending Japanese Honeysuckle, I found a nice young Shingle Oak struggling with its own honeysuckle infestation.  Growing conditions definitely improved for the oak when the Autumn Olive came down.  Now it needs freedom from the honeysuckle.

Japanese Honeysuckle is a perennial vine that uses woody plants as support for its vertical growth.  The spiraling growth habit allows it to climb even a limbless tree trunk.  The vine will climb into the treetop and exploit this position in the sun by extending its leafy twigs above the oak leaves.

The Japanese Honeysuckle Vine bears no aerial roots, so the plant must maintain its connection to the soil.  Multiple vines are usually found at the base of any affected tree.

Vines travel along the ground until they reach a vertical structure.  At each node along the vine, roots penetrate the soil and additional vines are produced.  In this way the vines can effectively carpet the ground and all surrounding vegetation.  The end result is a solid stand of Japanese Honeysuckle.

Both the supporting tree and the entwining vine continue to increase their size.  The vine becomes an unyielding collar around which the tree spreads as it grows.  The entrapped vine physically weakens the trunk and cuts off the movement of plant nutrients.  Eventually the tree top, too weakened to support the mass of vines, will fall.

I removed the vines from the tree, but the tree may not be able to heal itself.  This could easily develop into a weak place that will break later in the tree’s life.

The tree is now honeysuckle free.  I’ll monitor its progress to see how it reacts to its newfound freedom.  If the top looks like it’s beginning to fail, I may cut the tree off at the ground and let it regrow.  Oaks are very good about producing healthy stump sprouts and in a good location could easily be back up to 12 or 15 feet in just a few years.  That may be a better long term option for this tree.

Outlaw Band of Roses Discovered

Snow on the ground made it easy to see the unmistakable curve of Multiflora Rose canes.  Without the white background, the large bushes would have easily blended with their surroundings and eluded detection.  They have apparently effectively done that for several years.

It was quite a surprise to come upon this collection of nasties, sort of like walking in on the Hole in the Wall Gang.  I thought my earlier rose removal efforts had taken care of this area.  I was obviously mistaken.

The group of about a dozen bushes is located on this narrow strip of floodplain along the creek.  In an area as open as this, there are no excuses for not noticing those roses.  There may be no excuse, but I bet there’s a reason.

A few years ago, I spent a lot of time clearing Multiflora Rose bushes from this stream corridor.  According to my notes, I worked toward this area from upstream.  Instead of keeping to the streambank, I followed a terrace that begins in the upper left of this photo and diverges from the creek into the cedars.  I stopped work because of darkness and failed to make it back to this area because of weather conditions.  These bushes were never noticed, despite the fact that they are located very near to an established and often used walking trail.

This is the view of the roses from the trail.  Dead limbs and a mass of grape vines fell into a thicket just at the point where the trail turns 90 degrees and heads up the hill towards the woods.  There’s no way to see the roses through the tangle.

Fortunately, the rose canes all have a strong lean to the north, so the base of each bush is easy to access.  I’ll make it a point to get out here and cut these bushes before they begin their spring growth.

A couple of the rose bushes are showing growth characteristics consistent with infection by the Rose Rosette disease that was predicted to decimate the Multiflora Rose population back in the early 1990’s.  The disease will definitely kill roses, but it is almost impossible to spread from plant to plant.  The carrier is a tiny mite that apparently doesn’t travel well.  I’ve managed to transmit the disease by clipping branches from the infected individuals and setting them into healthy plants.  Even then it takes several years for the disease to kill a large bush.  The disease persists, but I’ve given up hope that it will rid us of Multiflora Rose.