A motherlode of Lincoln's Sparrows

The inaugural Headlands Birding Festival took place last weekend, based at Headlands Dunes State Park. There were a number of breakout speakers on Saturday afternoon, and keynotes Friday and Saturday night. Greg Miller of The Big Year fame was on Saturday, and your narrator spoke about the Great Lakes and their importance on Friday. From what I could tell, there were several hundred attendees, and more people than that wandered through the vendors and exhibitors on Saturday. It was a great time, and I believe this event will only grow. The Lake Erie lakefront in northeastern Ohio is incredibly important for fall migrants, and this makes for great birding as we shall see.

Mentor Marsh was the location of our field trip on Saturday morning, led by Becky Donaldson of the Cleveland Museum of Natural History and me. We met our group of about 25 people at 7:30 am and hiked this elevated dike through the marsh. While the trip was scheduled to end at 9:30, many of us stayed until about 11 am. The birding was magnificent, and the glut of Lincoln's Sparrows was right along this dike. We estimated 15 Lincoln's Sparrows on our trip, but I knew far more were present. Note the pale lime-green zone off the left side of the dike, right before the trees. That's rice cut grass (Leersia oryzoides) forming a large drift. Its fruit was ripe and seemed to attract lots of sparrows.

While field trips are fun, a great way to showcase natural history, and several of our participants saw new "life" birds, large groups are definitely not the effective way to stalk shy, skittish sparrows, especially insofar as photography goes. In fact, I didn't even bring my camera on the field trip. Probably should have but when one is leading, it's rude to become self-absorbed and get into shooting pics and ignoring the group. I don't even want the temptation, although I would have regretted that decision had a Steller's Sea Eagle or something crazy flown by. Anyway, I got permission to come back to this spot the following morning, at the crack of dawn, camera in tow.

This is the view to the north from that dike. The bulk of the 1,000-acre marsh stretches in that direction. I wonder how many Lincoln's Sparrows were up that way. Probably hundreds. I just sampled a tiny portion of the vast wetland - one-half mile in, and the same one-half mile out.

Here's a nice mugshot of a Lincoln's Sparrow (Melospiza lincolnii). It is in the same genus as the Song Sparrow (M. melodia) and Swamp Sparrow (M. georgiana), and is superficially similar to both, especially the Song Sparrow. But once one is familiar with the comparatively dainty and compact Lincoln's Sparrow, with its neatly striped dapper plumage, subtle gray and buff tones, and generally much more animated behavior, they are quite easy to identify.

As soon as I entered the trail, I began seeing Lincoln's Sparrows. At times I could see a dozen at once. In all, I tallied (and eBirded) 75 but am sure that's just a snippet of the true number that was present in the marsh.

Here's a Lincoln's Sparrow in a buttonbush plant (Cephalanthus occidentalis). The sparrows seemed smitten with the fruit - brownish balls on bottom left corner - and this particular shrub often had multiple sparrows simultaneously. I failed to get the money shot of a sparrow with buttonbush seeds in bill, although I saw it happen numerous times.

Many Lincoln's Sparrows were further out in the marsh, like this one teed up in some cattails. They were generally in proximity to the beds of rice cut grass, which is why I suspect they were harvesting its abundant ripe fruit.

In all, I photographed probably 6-8 different individuals. This one popped out very briefly on a branch near the ground. When skulking in dense vegetation, especially on the ground, which is how Lincoln's Sparrows often behave, it can be tough to get even a good enough look to positively identify them.

Here's a front shot showing the fine streaking and subtle buff wash which contrasts with the grayish head. The dapper little sparrows are sometimes said to resemble "well-dressed" Song Sparrows (at least by me).

A Lincoln's Sparrow, on point, showing a classic alert posture with raised crown feathers. This one was part of a group foraging in a small black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) thicket.

A three-fer in this shot: Lincoln's Sparrow (bottom right), Common Yellowthroat to its right (your left), and a Song Sparrow above. The closely related Song Sparrow is quite different even if superficially similar. It is "messier" in appearance - never the neatly dapper plumage of the Lincoln's, nor does it present the obvious gray and buff tones that are often so obvious with Lincoln's. Song Sparrow gestalt is different as well. It is a larger bulkier bird. The average Song Sparrow weighs about 23 grams, while a Lincoln's weighs about 17 grams. That's about 25% lighter which translates to a much different field impression.

I noticed that several Lincoln's Sparrows were drawn to the few and scattered Staghorn Sumac (Rhus typhina) treelets. This was early on my foray, and as you can see in this photo, the large flat sumac leaves were still copiously beaded with dew.

This is the same bird as above, shortly after I made the preceding shot. We've probably all heard the trendy sillyism "forest bathing" put forth by hipsters trying to get closer to nature or whatever. Well, this is real forest bathing. The Lincoln's Sparrows were bathing in dew: pushing and rubbing into the wet sumac leaves, then vigorously shaking and preening. It was really cool to watch this, and it did make me feel closer to nature.

It wasn't just Lincoln's Sparrows on my 2 hour and 15-minute immersion into the marsh. In all, I detected about 50 species of birds, including seven other sparrow species. The latter tally included a Clay-colored Sparrow, rather a rarity in this neck of the woods. Several Nashville Warblers and a Palm Warbler were working the goldenrods, and several Bobolinks passed overhead giving their melodic "pink" calls. Raucous families of Red-headed Woodpeckers made aerial sorties in between harvesting acorns in the nearby woods. At one point, I saw the whirlwind appearance of an accipiter far ahead, undoubtedly trying to whack the sparrows and warblers that I was admiring. It was just a split-second look, but now I was on point, waiting for it to reappear. A minute later, a female Sharp-shinned Hawk - a songbird's worst nightmare - shot from the shrubs and within ten feet of my head, surprising both of us. The snappy little raptor winged down the dike, then landed on the ground staring around ferociously. As nearly always happens, the songbirds fell silent and waited for the threat to disappear.

I'll try to post some other imagery from this trip later.

Nature: Restoration of Mentor Marsh is magnificent

Naturalist Becky Donaldson has helped restoration efforts in Mentor Marsh, allowing native flora and fauna to make an impressive comeback/Jim McCormac

Columbus Dispatch

September 15, 2019

NATURE
Jim McCormac

On Aug. 13, I journeyed to the largest undiked wetland on the U.S. shores of Lake Erie: Mentor Marsh, just east of Cleveland. My guides were Becky Donaldson and Ben Piazza, Cleveland Museum of Natural History employees and on-the-ground marsh managers.

We hopped in an Argo “marsh buggy” and set off on a comprehensive tour of the 800-acre wetland. I have long been familiar with the marsh, but the changes that have been wrought in recent years are stunning.

Disaster struck in the 1960s, when tailings from local salt-mining operations leached into a nearby feeder creek. Salt might be good on fries, but it’s disastrous for freshwater marshes. The worst consequence of the salinity spike was invasion by an aggressive nonnative grass, Phragmites australis, or common reed.

The Eurasian grass is salt-tolerant, and it eventually cloaked nearly the entire wetland. Indigenous flora was choked out by the nearly impenetrable stand of 10-foot-tall bamboo-like plants, and biodiversity plummeted.

A Mentor Marsh strangled by Phragmites was all that I, and most of my contemporaries, knew. However, in a stunning reversal of fortunes, the Cleveland museum has orchestrated one of the most ambitious wetland restorations on the Great Lakes.

Beginning in 2004, common reed control was implemented. It was baby steps at first, but in recent years the efforts have grown tremendously in intensity. The varied management tactics include physical mashing and cutting, aerial spraying, and on-the-ground herbicide treatments.

I could hardly believe my eyes as Donaldson and Piazza shepherded me through the marsh. There was scarcely any common reed to be seen. Freed from the shackles of this infestation, native flora has resurfaced from the seedbank.

Dozens of native-plant species, some not seen in decades, dotted the marsh: pink mists of swamp milkweed, attracting migrant monarch butterflies; swamp rose mallow, with its gargantuan showy pink flowers formed thickets; brilliant magenta flowering spikes of swamp loosestrife — a native — bringing numerous butterflies.

Nearly 200 species of native plants have been documented, and most are far more prevalent now that the common reed has been removed. New finds are made every year, and Donaldson recently made a stellar discovery, the state-endangered northern wild rice.

The astronomical spike in floristic diversity has spawned a proliferation of animal life. We saw birds galore, including bald eagle, Caspian tern, common gallinule, osprey, Virginia rail, wood duck and many others. Fish such as pike and yellow perch have returned, and beaver and river otters are occasionally spotted.

A healthy marsh is a boon for the Cleveland region, attracting scores of natural-history enthusiasts from far and wide. Lake Erie water quality is better, and visual appeal for local residents is enhanced. The threat of blazes that erupted periodically in stands of incendiary common reed has been eliminated.

Many partners have played a role in Mentor Marsh’s recovery, including the Great Lakes Restoration Initiative, National Fish & Wildlife Foundation and U.S. Department of Agriculture. Dan Donaldson of the Lake County Soil and Water Conservation District was especially helpful in implementing restoration practices.

But the catalyst for this success story is the Cleveland Museum’s Natural Areas Program and its visionary leader, Jim Bissell. He and his staff — Donaldson, Piazza, David Kriska and others — have done the heavy lifting.

Mentor Marsh was Ohio’s first state nature preserve, dedicated in 1971. Kudos to the Cleveland Museum of Natural History for working to return it to its original splendor.

For more information, visit www.cmnh.org/mentor-marsh.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

Phragmites - an ENORMOUS pest

With its lush sprangled top, this grass is a bit of a pretty thing when at full maturity. It is the Giant Reed, Phragmites australis, and if you live near or visit Lake Erie, it'll certainly ring a bell. Mature culms can tower to a dozen feet or more, and under optimal conditions it grows in such dense profusion that a muskrat would have a hard time threading through the stalks.

Nearly all of the Phragmites that we've got in Ohio - and many other areas in the eastern U.S. - is of Eurasian extraction. There is a native variant - Phragmites australis ssp. americanus - but it is now quite rare in our neck of the woods. We used to have more of the native, but most of it has been vegetatively steamrolled by the invader.

Like a chlorophyll-filled cockroach, Phragmites scrambles around with astonishing speed, threading its way into all available nooks and crannies. Most of its conquests of new turf is accomplished by runners, or superficial rhizomes, shown above. These roots can grow up to several dozen feet a year, which is an effective way to thrust one's gramineus self into new and unwanted terrain, quickly.

Back in November, I was flying over Lake Erie and happened over one of Ohio's most iconic birding locales, Headlands Dunes, just east of Cleveland and hard on the Lake Erie shore. The brown spit of land is brown because it is cloaked in native grasses: Coastal Little Bluestem, American Beach Grass, Switch Grass, and Canada Wild Rye, mostly. This spot is the best remaining naturally vegetated beach on Ohio's Lake Erie coast.

A very short distance away is an absolute forest of Phragmites. We are looking west down the old channel of the Grand River, which is now a large nature preserve known as Mentor Marsh. Virtually the entire former river bed is filled with the invader grass.

Mentor Marsh is still a fabulous place, and it is very important that it was protected and remains in good stewardship. But what it must have been like in the pre-Phragmites days, when an outstanding diversity of native flora reigned! I have seen old photos from back in the day, when bur-reeds, pickerel-weed, various pondweeds, bulrushes and other sedges, water-lilies and many others proliferated. Plant and animal diversity go hand in hand, and back then Mentor Marsh would have been a stunningly rich spot for birds and other wetland fauna.

Fortunately, stewardship of the marsh is partly under the auspices of the Natural Areas Program of the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, and they have toiled hard to diversify the sea of Phragmites. Museum personnel have restored small sections of the marsh along the Wake Robin Trail, shown above threading its way across the marsh.

Because of their successes in beating back the Phragmites, all manner of native flora has flourished along the Wake Robin Trail, and it's no coincidence that this has become the hotspot in northeast Ohio for finding two highly coveted feathered skulkers, the Nelson's Sparrow and Le Conte's Sparrow.

Would it be that we could only expel all of the Phragmites over the nearly 700 acres of marsh, but that's a tall order, and the foot soldiers are few. Financing to arm the troops in the ground battle is tight, too, and that's why it is so important to support organizations such as the Cleveland Museum of Natural History. The CMNH is doing some of the most important conservation work in northeast Ohio, and if you've visited Mentor Marsh and nabbed your lifer Nelson's or Le Conte's sparrow, you've benefited from their efforts. Ditto that if you've been to any of the other 34 sites totalling some 5,000 acres that the Museum has protected.

Ohio is truly fortunate to have the Cleveland Museum of Natural History and its Natural areas Program, and should you find a way to help support them, please do!