Woods, Waters & Wildlife

Ubiquitous, conspicuous, and easy to identify, male red-winged blackbirds are a stunning glossy black, their wing epaulets — lesser wing coverts — flashing a vibrant red, highlighted by a yellow bottom-edge stripe. The sight of males bobbing on cattail stalks and sound of their familiar, gurgling “kon-ka-reee” song are sure signs that spring weather is not far off.

I maintain nine bird feeders outside my home-office window. Only two of them were commercially manufactured, and one of those two was given to me as a gift. The other seven I cobbled together from material I had on hand. I don’t mind spending money when I have to, but if I can save a few bucks and still get the job done, I’m all for it, especially with the continually rising cost of bird feed.  

Gross, a 45-year member of Mount Gilead-based Consolidated Cooperative and retired from the Ohio Department of Natural Resources Division of Wildlife, says he has an “overwhelming fascination and appreciation for the beauty, complexity, and intricacy of the natural world.”

That certainly comes across in his writing and contributes to the popularity and longevity of “Woods, Waters, and Wildlife,” but he says there’s more to it as well.

Trail cameras take both still photos and video clips of wildlife and provide endlessly entertaining images. If there’s someone on your Christmas list who would like to try this fun and fascinating outdoor hobby — or if you’d like to try it yourself — here are a few suggestions to help get you started, based on my own experience:      

The history of the wild turkey in Ohio is one of boom and bust. A bird of mature woodlands, turkeys thrived in pre-settlement times when our state was 95% forested. In 1915, a researcher by the name of Wright, after reviewing records from the 18th and early 19th centuries, wrote, “In all the United States, no state had more turkeys than Ohio and her neighbors.” Just how many wild turkeys existed in the Ohio country hundreds of years ago is anyone’s guess — a million, perhaps?

In general, the weasel family has a dubious reputation, particularly its scientific subfamily Mustelinae, which in Ohio includes not only mink but also ermines, least weasels, and long-tailed weasels. Adding to this foursome’s loathsomeness is the fact that they smell bad, emitting a strong, musky odor from anal scent glands, which they use for marking territory or attracting a mate.  

“Even into medieval times, bogs and fens remained mystical and frightening places,” says Denny, a member of Mount Gilead-based Consolidated Cooperative. “Fueling some of those fears was a natural phenomenon known as ‘will-o’-the-wisp’ or ‘jack-o’-lantern’ — a mysterious, flickering light often observed hovering and moving around at night within bogs, swamps, and marshes. 

The slaughter began with large mammals — elk and deer in the East, bison in the West. Once those populations were decimated, the professional hunters moved on to waterfowl: ducks, geese, and swans. After those species were depleted, shorebirds were next in line. Smaller than most waterfowl, shorebirds made up for their small size by numbering in the millions. They also decoyed readily and tasted good on the dinner table. 

Last on the list was songbirds.  

To get a feel for AOA, I tagged along on one of the organization’s many annual educational events open to the public. The field trip attracted some 30 people to Cedar Bog Nature Preserve, a few miles south of Urbana. It’s the oldest nature preserve in the Buckeye State purchased with state funds (in 1942), and is owned, operated, and managed by the Ohio History Connection. 

The story begins several months earlier, in March 1782, when 96 members of the Delaware tribe, who had converted to Christianity, were rounded up, massacred, and burned along with their entire village of Gnadenhutten (meaning huts, or tents, of grace) along the Tuscarawas River by Col. David Williamson and his contingent of frontier militia.