Lazy Days of Summer

by Susanna Hamilton

When was the last time you visited one of our locations here in the West Eugene Wetlands? A year ago, perhaps a month or a week ago, yesterday? I thought I would offer a little temptation to lure you out to enjoy this lazy end of summer in these wild places of our community.

Take a leisurely ride along the Fern Ridge Bike Path between Garfield and Greenhill to witness the industrious nature of our local beaver(s). There are three dens in this stretch that I am aware of, but you must pay attention to find them. At this late date in the season the willows are full, stretching their branches out to one another in attempt to hide the secrets along the banks of the creek. As well there is an easily identifiable dam across from the Tsanchiifin trail.

Looking to the ground, what's that I almost stepped in...? Scat! Blackberry season is upon us and along many of the paths you will find evidence of our local wild creatures having enjoyed the ripened blackberries. Come to think of it, there is nothing quite like eating blackberries straight from the bush, warm and juicy from the sun, or cool and refreshing in the shade. YUM! 

If you listen carefully you can hear the Great Blue Herons calling. For their tall majestic stature, they have a call that is deep and throaty, almost a croak. Warm breezes whisper though tall, dried grasses, rustle through leaves, and cool our skin as we wander in the last days of remaining heat. Vultures soar on thermals overhead, and clouds meander by offering brief respites from the sun. 

And let us not forget the pungent aroma of the Penny royal wafting on the wind. Even from my desk as I sit to write this, I can smell the richness of the wetlands as the wind beckons me to don shoes and hat and wonder through our beautiful and unique West Eugene Wetlands.

Walking Around Stewart Ponds

1-31-2012

It was cloudy and mild as we started to stroll the paths around Stewart Ponds. After so much rain the ponds were full. Standing water was on the sides of the path as we headed toward the blind. Much birdsong greeted us as well as frog chirping. Fungi dotted the woodchips along the path.

Quietly peeking through the blind we saw shovelers, green-winged teal and mallards. Some were exhibiting what may have been mating behavior as they swam around. A submerged log was hosting a mix of shorebirds (yellow-legs or sandpipers?) and green-winged teals. I was wishing I had a camera with a good lens.

Overhead about 600 cackling geese announced their presence and circled for a landing. We noticed how much goose droppings were in the surrounding fields. These droppings fertilize the fields where these geese feed - an important cycle.

Color is coming into the branches of the willows. As the sun comes out the branches turn vibrant but a cloud cover turns them dull again.

Three birds perched in a nearby tree seem to be towhees, but the light is difficult at this hour and angle and so identification is tough.

A surprise sighting; a yellow flower pushing through the woodchips! Spring is coming...

A lone cormorant circles the swampy area to the west as the sun appears again. Swarms of small insects can be seen in the light. To the east we see that the hillsides are greening.

At the far pond we find a man fishing. We wonder what could be caught in this small pond. Would it be edible? A pair of coots swims along with mallards. A pair of male shovelers hunts for some dinner amongst the reeds.

On the walk back on the east side we see juncos in some low shrubs and a gang of noisy starlings high in a tree. The frogs’ chirping is much louder at this hour. The path on this west side is being taken over by the grasses. It may be time for another parks event to re-establish the trails for the public who come to enjoy nature.

Walking on these trails is time well spent. It’s calming. We don’t come to add to our bird lists. We come to be both surprised and reassured by nature.

New Years at Stewart Ponds

By Tom Spofford

1-1-12

It was cold and cloudy when we arrived at Stewart Ponds in West Eugene. We realized it was the day of the annual bird count but didn’t have the energy to devote the day to that endeavor. There was a small group of birders with scopes ahead of us and I imagined they were counting. We’d brought the dog along, a 7 month old chocolate Labrador, and she was behaving quite well as we headed off down the left side path.

The end-of-year rains had filled in the first pond and waterfowl were abundant compared to weeks past when it was dry. Viewing from the blind we saw mallards, widgeons, gulls, green-winged teals, shovelers and a shorebird we couldn’t identify. There was some rotting floorboards in the blind and I made a mental note to report it before someone gets hurt.

As we left the blind, the shorebirds took flight over us, but we were still unable to ID them. Add that to my expanding list of need-to-dos; get at least an elementary grasp of the group that includes sandpipers, plovers, killdeer and curlews. Looking through my Peterson guide I realize that a very important characteristic is beak shape. If I can get a good look at this feature I can very much narrow the field. Birding is fascinating and enriching. There is so much to learn, at one’s own pace, that it is truly a lifelong hobby.

A favorite bird of mine, the kestrel, was surveying the lands from high in dead tree. It seems like many birds favor dead limbs for perching. It also could be that I simply notice more birds overall on dead limbs because they are easily spotted sans leaves. Nearby a solitary jay is quiet and unaffected by our proximity.

In the smaller pond I spot what I believe to be a pintail. We were used to seeing countless pintails in No. California but see far fewer here. The light is beginning to fail and I can’t quite get enough of a view to determine if it is the pintail as it swims into a set of reeds for cover.

The bare trees are beautiful in the afternoon light. Leafless trees have a certain appeal. Without leaves one can really study nature’s design capabilities. It’s fun to spot abandoned nests in these trees along with paper bees nests shaped like footballs.

A gang of about twenty five cackling geese wing overhead looking for a landing strip. A rare sighting! It’s a kingfisher sitting still and being quiet in a distant tree. That is not something one experiences very often. A red-tailed hawk comes in and lands in a small tree and nearby frogs can be heard.

I’m always captivated by the mosses and lichens of the northwest. In certain light it can seem to glow on the branches. Moss and lichen go on the master list for further study... Small songbirds flit in and out of the thickets. I try to identify at least one and think perhaps it’s a vireo. Sparrow-like birds are searching the brush for dinner along the road back by the car.

We are graced with the sight of about 750 cackling geese coming in to land as we climb back into the car.

Spending time out in nature was a good start to the new year. In trying times nature helps slow things down. Fresh air, few man-made distractions and the subtleties of the natural world are ingredients of living well.

Early November

November 2011


By Tom Spofford

For the past year I've been writing about my walks in the west Eugene wetlands as a representative of the WREN organization. I observed nature in a specific stretch of the bike path from the Terry St bridge to just beyond the railroad crossing.

This is west of the WREN offices. As I approach the beginning of my second year I've decided to move east, over to the Stewart Ponds area. I plan to visit the west side area from time to time but will focus on the Stewart Ponds in the coming months.

As I pull into the lot I recall that there is a pair of raptors who nest every year in the evergreens across the street. As hard as I tried I couldn’t see the nest when it was first brought to my attention. On this day it is still well hidden. The drenching rains are late in coming this fall and the main pond area is still dry. It’s disappointing but I will be using this first walk to scout the paths since I haven’t spent a lot of time over here. It’s a chilly and overcast afternoon with a threat of rain as I begin to walk. A familiar call back near the lot and I see a group of waxwings dipping in and out of the trees near the road. I’ve been able to recognize the waxwing call, flight pattern and of course the distinctive silhouette of the head. The Sibley Field Guide points out that the waxwings get their name from them having waxy concentrations at the ends of some of their feathers which is a product of their fruit diet.

I head out on the wood chip path which was spread by volunteers a year previously during an event celebrating the parks service. The grasses have begun to grow back over the chips but I don't have much time to contemplate how quickly nature grabs back what it can from the humans because two very aggressive Chesapeake Retrievers have taken to charging me from the adjoining property. I instinctively yell at them which slows them somewhat and after a brief survey they apparently decide I'm not a threat and head back.

The fields are greening up from the showers of the past month. The brown fields of late summer are now in a second wave of growth. Frogs chirp down in a low spot, quieting as I approach. The trees in this area are a muted palette, more like a Dutch landscape painting versus some of the vibrant Warhol colors of the ornamental maples around town. I love to see photos comparing areas of nature or even urban settings taken 50 or 100 years apart. As a kid I walked through the woods in my neighborhood a lot. Once I came across an old house foundation that was barely visible. Nearby was a goldmine-a dumping area from probably 100 years earlier. It was filled with old bottles, decomposing metal cans and even a horse skull, great fodder for a young imagination.

I squint a little and try to imagine what this field looked like 50 years ago. Was it being farmed? Was it wooded or thick with blackberries? Were there native peoples in this very field 300 years ago? I’ve learned to watch the ground, the trees and the sky on these walks. There is little bird or animal activity but I do see much scat or animal droppings from many different animals. I keep walking the property perimeter. There are many well-used animal paths crisscrossing the field. A small pond offers up some tracks, raccoon and nutria are the likely visitors.

A trio of crows gab as they slowly fly over. A jay lands on a branch and then I hear a whistling call that could be an eagle. I also hear a kingfisher’s unmistakable call. I quietly come to the edge of a larger pond and see a dark duck with an olive bill. It departs quickly and I’m still not sure what it was. If it was an American Black Duck it’s far from home. I need to sharpen my identification skills!

Flickers fly over towards the oaks and chickadees pop in and out of the brush. On the trail heading back to the car I notice the grasses in the setting sunlight. They are fine and ghostlike in the light, beautiful, unlike anything man-made. Back on the road juncos flit through the bushes. I’ve learned to identify them by the flash of white under the tail.

Soon the rains will bring the waterfowl but for now I can appreciate the finer details of the Stewart Ponds.

I am not an expert in any way regarding the natural world. I am a novice who loves to be out in this world. It’s a fine respite from the daily grind of work. I find something new on every walk. I continue to learn if nothing more than how much I have to learn. It’s been a perfect way to spend a couple of hours and I head home relaxed and recharged.

Roving at Dusk

August 21st, 2011, 7:30pm

by Tom Spofford

I’ve mostly walked the West Eugene wetlands during the daylight hours. As a change of pace I headed out close to dusk on a recent Sunday to both view the area activity late in the day and to avoid the heat that has come to the valley.

The ground is dry and hard since we haven’t had significant rain in months. Grasses are quite brown and many plants are dropping their seeds. Swallows have been a constant all summer and they are out this evening, perhaps feeding on the insects I can see in the low sunlight. The stream is down to a very slow flow with much algae growing in areas of the sluggish water.

Blackberries ripening along the bank reminding me of a few years ago when we were hiking in Northern California. We had been warned that a bear and her cub had been seen in the area where we stopped for a quick hike. A ranger was at the trailhead but had yet to see the animals that day and was allowing people into the area. We hiked the trail and, on the return to the parking area, as we came around a bend we came upon the pair heading toward us at 25 yards. We calmly turned and headed back to where we could safely watch where they were going, which was a thick patch of blackberries. We were able to get back to the parking lot. Days later we read a story of a couple who surprised a bear and the wife had to fight it off with an ink pen as it attacked her husband.

I picked some berries in the wetlands and as usual some were perfectly ripe and others were still sour. I’m curious to know which birds and mammals eat these berries. It’s a fleeting yet abundant food supply.

A nutria makes a big splash in the creek then waddles back up the bank scratching it’s side and making a high pitched grunt. A kingfisher flies along the stream making it’s telltale call and flight pattern, not a subtle bird at all. I enjoy the kingfisher. It’s a large and handsome bird, easy to identify by call or sight. Some chickadees come through the low bush. I hadn’t seen any out in the wetlands or our yard for a few months. They must head to some elevation in the summer to breed, escape the heat or maybe find a different food source. I recently saw a few mixed into a gang of cheerful bushtits who swoop through our hedges every evening hunting for spiders.

As the sunlight begins to fail I can sense that the season is shifting. The sound of the leaves in the trees is much different. They sound drier in the wind compared to the lush young leaves of spring and summer. The light is changing as well, appearing slightly muted to my eye.

Down the path the setting sun is seen through thistle that is dropping it’s seed in a slight breeze. It’s not autumn yet as the crickets are still chirping a high note. For years we had generations of crickets outside our bedroom window and their tune slowed more and more through September and October.

The sun tucks in behind the west hills glowing orange while the clouds in the east picked up a striking pink tone at the same time. I take many photographs of the sunset through some plants and I try to capture the pink clouds.

Swallows appear again as I head back towards the car. I make a mental note to learn the difference between swifts and swallows. I can hear birds now but it is too dark to be able to see them. This is when I wish I was more adept at identifying by calls.

This fall I’ll be sure to come to the wetlands at various times of the day. I’ve been more apt to walk in the afternoons. The more difficult will be a sunrise visit but I’m sure it will yield more surprises. The birds will be returning as the rainy season begins and I look forward to noting the changes to the landscape as nature’s wheel turns.