When bird feathers rain down on me I get excited. Not because the bird feathers are falling on me, but because this is something that never happens. “What in the world is going on?” I wonder. “What am I going to see?”
Fauna
Fly Fishing For Trout in Minnesota: A Summer Paradise
Time To Head Out My husband and I roll down the car windows and turn up the radio as the heat of the day creeps up. We turn onto the back country roads that run parallel to the river, and listen to the crunch of the wheels on the gravel roads. Once we reach the easement to the river, we park on the side of the road and prepare for fly-fishing. Chest waders go on first, followed by our fly-vests. The leather harnesses of our split-willow creels are draped across our chests – though we never seem to keep the trout we hook. Two-way radios are hooked onto our vests to communicate on the stream, and waterproof cameras stuffed into pockets to capture the moment we catch a lunker. We grab our fly-rods and head out. Waiting Waters Tall grass and wildflowers greet my husband and me as we step off of the road. Five-foot tall stinging nettle threatens us as we near the trout stream. We lift our arms and rods high in the air to avoid its sting, while dodging the outstretched arms of nearby trees grasping at the tips of our rods. A light morning fog appears before us – a sure sign that the icy water of the stream is imminent. We crouch beside the bank of the trout stream as we approach the water. The water is clear, but alive. An ever-observant brown trout darts from under the bank beneath our feet – spooking several other fish in the process. My husband whispers that he is heading upstream. I will stay here as there are fish to catch. I enter the waiting waters cautiously as my husband tiptoes away. Swift currents and smooth rocks underfoot threaten my balance. I take my time – feeling out each step before fully committing. Cold water presses my waders against my legs as I move toward the center of the river – cooling me from the heat of the day. I have my eye on an undercut bank on the opposite side of the river a few yards upstream. I stop in the middle of the river – it needs to rest. The water continues to rush past me, carrying away the evidence of my arrival, and the trout calm – a sense of peace restored. The Rhythm Of The Cast Bringing the fly-rod straight up, I grip the fly-line with my rod hand as I release the fly from the hook holder with my other. I peel line off of my reel, letting the hook and line drop beside me. The floating line moves with the tumultuous water – curling and twisting around me before straightening as the water carries it downstream. I grip the line by the reel with my free hand and raise the tip of the fly-rod into the air – keeping the rod in line with my forearm. In a straight and fluid movement, I bring the rod tip down in front of me – pausing to let the fly-line follow. I repeat the pattern, but this time I allow the line to unroll on the surface of the water after the last forward movement. The fly lands in the quiet water near the undercut bank. Patience Moving water carries the line back toward me as I watch carefully for any movements indicative of a strike. I slowly pull the slack line through the guides on my rod. As the fly approaches, I begin the rhythmic casting again. The process repeats until I see the slightest pause in the movement of the fly-line as it floats toward me. Everything surrounding me disappears as I focus solely on the line. I hold the fly-line and raise my rod tip straight into the air as I feel the erratic pull on the line – fish on. Keeping the rod tip up, I strip the line steadily while keeping the line taut. The fish attempts to dart back under the bank, and I lose my footing for a moment as I try to maneuver the fish, but remain standing. Up stream, down stream, through fallen trees, and around large boulders – the fish tries to escape, but I am patient. Soon I land the 10″ brook trout. Keeping the fish underwater, I gently dislodge the hook. The scales are so small that the trout feels smooth – almost scaleless. The gold color of the fish is highlighted by red spots rimmed with an electric blue. I observe the most obvious sign that I have caught a brook trout – the contrasting white accents on the bright orange, lower fins. Gently, I lower the fish deeper into the water allowing it to swim away. It swims slowly to the river bottom – pausing to recuperate before moving on. I radio my husband to notify him of my catch. Time to move. I move upstream; looking for a new place to land my fly. Downstream of fallen logs or large boulders, deep holes – often appearing turquoise in color, or another undercut bank will do. My husband and I fish a couple more hours as the fog disappears under the heat of the mid-day sun. Submersed in Beauty We pause for a lunch break, a quick dip in the water – yes, it takes our breath away, and an hour of reading by the trout stream. My husband goes back to fishing late in the afternoon, but I choose to sit on the bank near where he fishes. I enjoy watching him fly-fish as the cast of a fly-rod is one of the most breathtaking displays – an art. The rhythm of the cast and the silent movement of the fly-line in the air is captivating. The way the line rolls out on the surface of the water is awe-inspiring. I sit for an hour before the fog begins to return as the sun lowers in the sky. Twilight arrives and sparks of light begin flickering throughout the
Tadpoles: Catching, Raising, and Observing Metamorphosis
Think back to your childhood and recall some of your happiest moments. What were you doing? Where were you? Who were you with (if anyone)? Last evening, my family was out on a late evening walk to go look at the fireflies that grace us with their diamond-like sparkling at dusk on these warm summer nights. The wetlands near our house seem almost magical with the thousands of fireflies that surround us as we stroll down the path. The sight of the twinkling fireflies always inspires my daughter to break out in her sweet, made-up songs while the rest of us listen, smile, and walk quietly beside her. As we made our way back home, we all started to talk about what makes us happy (I guess the fireflies inspired us). All of our answers contained one commonality: being outside. Happiness for me is hiking, spending time at the cabin, and gardening; my husband said playing soccer, fishing, and camping; my daughter piped in with spending time with the chickens; and my son said exploring or treasure hunting. Now, my son doesn’t go treasure hunting for items like money, jewelry, etc., he, for the most part, hunts for natural treasures. Like tadpoles! Catching Tadpoles Late in the spring, when the edges of the lakes or creeks begin to warm up from the sun, tadpoles start to emerge from their eggs and swarm the shallow waters. This year my son had his trusty sidekick (my daughter) join him in his treasure hunt for tadpoles. The two amigos collected the supplies needed for the hunting expedition and set out on their tadpole hunt. Supplies needed for tadpole hunting: bucket minnow net (using hands works too) With feet sloshing in and out of the shallow, warm water, my son and daughter slowly and carefully tiptoed through the marshy edge of the lake. Within minutes I hear: “Oh my gosh! There are millions of tadpoles in here! Mom, you have got to come and see this!” I could read the excitement on my kids’ faces as they scooped up tadpoles and plopped them in the bucket. My son also pulled out some type of aquatic grass to add to the bucket, not only to give the tadpoles shade if they needed it, but to give them food and oxygen too. After collecting quite a few tadpoles, we brought the bucket home and constructed a nice home for our tadpoles to grow in. Building A Make-shift Tadpole Pond A tadpole home needs: Fresh water from a lake, pond, or creek (tap water has too many chemicals for tadpoles to live in). A large, shallow container (we use an old saucer sled). Rocks or other items that break the surface of the water (when the tadpoles morph into frogs or toads, they need a way to get out of the water and breath air). Food such as algae, natural organic matter that has decomposed on the floor of the lake, and other aquatic vegetation such as duckweed (most of these things can be found in the environment you found the tadpoles living in). Observation After bringing the tadpoles home, my children decided to explore the tadpole water as they added the tadpoles to their make-shift pond. For hours, the two of them sat exploring the creatures in the water with their net. Every new organism was put in a separate clear container for observation. They found, snails, clams, minnows, tiny water bugs the size of a deer tick, and a fresh water shrimp! We have had the tadpoles in their pond for over a month now. According the Minnesota DNR, Minnesota frog and toad species can take a little less than two months and up to two years to make the metamorphosis from tadpole to adult frog or toad. Within the past month most of our tadpoles have begun to grow their legs and arms, and some have morphed from the aquatic vegetarian with tails and gills, to omnivorous toadlets (that eat insects) with limbs and lungs. The toads you see above still need to develop their tough bumpy skin, and at this stage, they are smaller than my pinky fingernail. How is the rest of the pond life fairing? The duckweed in our make-shift pond has at least tripled in number, the aquatic grass plant is still healthy, and the shrimp, minnows, snails, and other aquatic species are alive and well. We have ourselves a healthy microcosm we get to observe each and every day. What a fun and interesting learning tool! Microcosms are a self-contained model of something that is much bigger in size. Our microcosm is a pond, complete with tadpoles, shrimp, minnows, aquatic plants, snails, and mud. We’ve also had rain that continues to fill our pond with natural water a few times per week. This year, our pond has been completely self-sustaining. After setting up the pond, we’ve had to put no work into it. The only work we do is to sit and gratefully observe. Embark On A Treasure Hunt For Tadpoles Seeing the complete metamorphosis from tadpole to toad has been so much fun for our whole family. Once the last toad leaves our pond, we will return the water and the rest of the pond inhabitants back into the lake. I urge you to go outside on a treasure hunt of your own in search of tadpoles. Then you can enjoy a summer full of exploration, transformation, learning, and excitement by the side of your own little pond.
Birding: Let a Child Guide You
Have you ever been on a walk with a child and noted that they find coins on the ground quite often (coins that you passed right by without seeing), or that children can easily spot a bird far off in the distance, or that they notice a line of ants marching across the path carrying chewed pieces of leaves right before you would have stepped on them? Last winter my family and I took a good, long road trip from Minnesota all the way down to Grand Isle, Louisiana to escape the MN cold, but more importantly, to explore areas we’ve never been. How refreshing to see all the sights on our trip through the eyes of my children. Their excitement was contagious! Arriving at the ocean felt like seeing it for the first time myself. My kids found heaps of shells, spotted the beautiful Man O’ War, felt the push of the ocean waves as they swam toward shore, and discovered that the many quarter-sized holes in the sand were home to a type of hairy land crab. My children still get excited to tell of the treasures they unearthed on their trip. Anyhow, when we returned home from our explorations, my father-in-law had left us a section of The Wall Street Journal on our kitchen counter with a specific article circled for us to read. The article was titled, When Children Beat Adults at Seeing the World, and was written by Alison Gopnik, an American professor of psychology and affiliate professor of philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley. In the article, Alison discusses how adults are better at focusing their attention and learning as a result, but children are better at learning about anything unattended. In other words, adults only seem to focus on objects, ideas, etc. that are at the center of their attention, whereas children also learn about and attend to things that are happening in the background. So, the next time you think a child is not paying attention (watching a bird find worms outside the school window, staring at a spider building a web during homework, or chasing a leaf during soccer practice), perhaps that child is really paying attention to more than you know, exploring more, and learning much more than you think. Perhaps this would be a good time to ask that child what he or she was looking at or thinking about. You may just learn something new too! How about testing out this idea by bringing a child birding with you? Birding is a great way to get outdoors, get into nature, and it doesn’t have to cost you a penny. According to the Audubon site, the U.S. is home to 47 million birders. If you think about it, birding is really a scavenger hunt. A scavenger hunt that you can partake in anywhere in the world and can last a lifetime. There are really only two things you need to do to begin birding: Find a green space or water source. Go on a walk. That’s it! So very simple. These are other things that may make your birding experience more fruitful: Bring along a pair of binoculars. Go to the library and rent a birding field guide. Use a checklist or nature journal to record your sightings. Download a free app for phones like the Audubon Bird Guide App. This particular app has data on 821 species of birds, more than 8,200 photos, and eight hours of bird sounds. Do a little research prior to your outing to see which birds you should be looking for at that particular time of year. Bring a child along. I’m not much for carrying anything cumbersome on my hikes, so I don’t ever take binoculars, a field guide, or a journal, but I do have my children right beside me, and they are, in my opinion, the best birding resource. They sure spot birds, insects, mushrooms, and anything else that is different or exciting with little effort. Last weekend, a few members of my family went out on our typical nature walk up at the cabin. When we returned, we noticed that the others who had stayed behind were intently looking up into the old basswood tree. The kids ran down to explore, and they excitedly came running back yelling “A mama hummingbird has a nest up in the tree by the deck!” We’ve never observed a hummingbird nest here in Minnesota. This nest just happened to be about 10 feet from the deck railing. The nest itself was not much larger than a silver dollar, and after closer inspection of the pictures I took with the camera, the nest almost seemed to glitter in green in black. We know that hummingbirds use spider webs to tie twigs and plant material together, which also makes the nests soft and stretchy. This particular hummingbird used tiny little pieces of sage-green lichen to weave into the silky-soft spider webs, along with a sparkly black substance, which we couldn’t identify. The tiny ruby-throated hummingbird seemed to perch regally in her magnificent nest. Definitely a sight to behold. I do have to note that my mother was the one to spot the sweet ruby-throated hummingbird in her nest. We have often teased my mother, in good nature, about being one of the kids. Mom has always taken this as a compliment, and I’ve always appreciated her easy-going, fun-loving personality. “You’re only as old as you feel!” Perhaps she has learned the trick to not only learning by focusing, but learning by exploring too. Thanks to this, we have been treated to watching Miss Ruby tend to her nest the last couple of weeks. I hope we’ll get to catch a glimpse of the tiny babies when they emerge from the tiny, navy bean-sized eggs. The next time you head out for a walk, bring your child, grandchild, or a friend with their child with you to see how many different birds you can spot