Raindrops on the treetops
Waiting there to fall
I know how they’re feeling
But I’m only, yes I’m only, halfway down

–Patty Loveless

On the weekend before the official first day of spring, I was outdoors listening to the wind swinging the branches of the trees. Springtime is famous for its strong winds, probably due to temperature changes and clashes between warm and cold air. Suddenly I could hear a dead tree cracking a few hundred yards away and the crack became louder and finally the crash of a falling tree echoed through the forest. Twenty minutes later, another dead tree started to topple crashing into another as this tree fell to the ground too. Yet another tree was impacted but was caught upon another dangerously teetering until it will fall at some later date. I thought to myself I should take care that one of these trees doesn’t fall on me.

While forests may appear peaceful, when we look at a forest we are watching some of the most gruesome combat in nature play out over the space of human lifetimes. Trees engage in great battles in the air and under the ground. In the air, tree branches race into every open space such that their leaves can collect sunlight throughout the short months of summer. In the ground, equally extensive root networks compete for moisture and nutrients from the soil. Throughout any mature forest, the fallen in battle litter the ground in the form of dead and decaying tree trunks. Yet, as with the wars of old, most do not die in combat but rather from disease and other disasters. Many of the dead trees I hear falling on a windy day were once strong oak trees killed by oak wilt or perhaps predation from gypsy moths. These oak trees, champions of the forest, die and fall all the same as the trees they conquered and replaced.

Unfortunately, strong winds were not the only disaster to strike Michigan’s forests this spring. Transitioning temperatures bring freezing rain and ice. The last weekend of March brought a great ice storm. The ice coated and added great weight to the trees and branches. Saturday night, I listened in my powerless cabin and every minute or two I could hear branches busting and falling to the ground. Several times an hour I could hear large trees crashing. I assumed these were dead trees but the following morning I could see live trees laying everywhere. In some cases, live tree trunks feet in circumference snapped in two feet from the ground. Other trees had their root balls torn from the earth. A very large number of trees were killed that week, especially pines and weaker hardwoods like birch and aspen. Some entire groves of these trees were all but wiped out.

As with the trees, many animals will not survive until the end of spring. In my last blog post about the end of winter, I wrote about the young deer I saw struggling through the snow having survived several months of winter without guidance. Unfortunately, I don’t think she made it. Just a few feet from where I saw tracks in the snow feeding from tree to tree, I saw the remains of a deer about her size drug into the trail by scavengers. If it wasn’t her body, it was the body of a similar deer with a similar story. In fact, I saw the carcasses of several deer in this area. This thawing carrion does not last the scavengers long as they become more active after a long winter. As April progressed, many hungry scavengers became so bold (or desperate) as to face down my rooster and dog frequenting my chicken coop in search of chicken food, eggs, and live meat. A few have already met their demise at the end of my shotgun.

Even so, most trees, deer, and predators will survive. In fact, where a few months ago deer were nowhere to be seen, now one seems to see deer everywhere he looks. That is because open areas are quickly warming in the sun and cold hardy forbs (weeds) are beginning to sprout in roadside ditches, clearings, and yards. For plant eating animals, these young forbs are the most nutritious foods in their yearly diet. Hungry, shaggy, disheveled deer seem to ignore all danger as they feed in easy sight of and close proximity to humans. Many of these deer can also be seen on the roads dodging in and out of traffic. Since early growth is limited in quantities, deer travel far and wide racing others to nibble these plants as soon as they emerge from the ground.

The beavers are also out and about. Like most species, young beavers are eventually driven away from their parent’s territory when they reach maturity. For beavers, this occurs in the spring starting when they are about two years old. While the young beavers disperse, resident adult beavers, especially the males, are actively guarding their territories from trespassers. The beavers mark their territories with castor glands. Since times long ago, trappers have removed this gland and placed its scent into the territory of other beavers next to a trap. Regardless, as the young beavers travel around they will eventually find a stream or pond surrounded with trees (preferably aspen) which they can use to build lodges and dams while they also dig dens into the banks. Not only is this an extraordinary amount of work but it leads to great changes in the surrounding land and habitat. Large areas are flooded. Also, many trees are cut down making way for young trees.

Sometimes a young beaver couple finds a location that’s too good to be true. They find lodges, dens, and dams already constructed ready to move in! How could they be so lucky? All of the creature comforts all ready for winter and they won’t have to put in a summer and fall of hard work. What they don’t seem to ask themselves is why the previous residents are gone. Water levels are highest in the spring. As the water level drops during the winter, the pond may empty killing the beaver. Otherwise, the previous residents may have been trapped. Beavers are hated by landowners. Personally, I appreciate the fact that beavers create great habitat for other wildife. But I also understand that landowners buying their own forest acres are disgusted to find furry rodents felling dozens of trees and flooding their property. By that time, the beaver are already well established. Beavers are easy to trap until they learn what traps look like, after which trapping them becomes extremely difficult. Even if the landowners manage to kill new arrivals before they become educated on the traps, they are usually frustrated to find new arrivals every year, especially once the lodges and dens are already built.

These beaver probably thought it was easier to dam this stream next to a small bridge on a public land hiking trail. But they will be obvious targets for recreational trappers.

Many animals frequent beaver ponds, among them swans, woodcock, grouse, and frogs. Swans migrate back to Michigan as the waters thaw. Like most birds, they will mate, lay eggs, and hatch their young all in the spring. In fact, one way or another, most animals are currently preparing to bear young in late spring when food is plentiful and long months of plenty are still ahead for their young to grow. The male woodcocks complete their mating dance around small clearings attracting their mates with their dance, their song, and the sounds of the air whistling through their feathers. Not much longer after the woodcock arrive, the songs of male chorus frogs fill the night air. While you may never see or notice these tiny tree frogs any other time, on spring nights it seems that every puddle, every marsh, and every glacial kettle is inundated with their chirping voices.

In a way, the tiny chorus frogs bear witness to earlier times when glaciers left the land barren. Then as the glaciers receded, they tore up the land scraping river valleys and building giant hills. On this land, life was possible once again. They also left giant ice cubes in the soil which melted away leaving pits, ponds, and lakes remaining to this day. From these pits and ponds, the chorus frogs live their lives and sing celebrating the receding snow and ice and the changes that still happen in Michigan every year. It does not happen all at once. But, week after week, the songs of death and scarcity slowly fade and recede like a glacier whilst the songs of life, birth, and plenty grow slowly in volume, louder and louder, until they finally overcome the songs of suffering and take their rightful place.