Woods, Waters & Wildlife

A father points in the distance to show his daughter something while he holds a camera.

When I was a kid, my mother couldn’t keep me indoors. I was constantly roaming the woods and fields near our home, dragging back sick and injured wildlife — probably to the animal’s detriment. But the day Mom drew the line (“No more critters!”) was the day she saw me coming down the road with a live great blue heron under my arm. The 4-foot bird with the dagger-like beak was nearly as tall as I was.

A bald eagle perched on a branch

If you have a concern for wildlife, it’s easy to get caught up in the plight of current endangered and threatened species — so much so that we sometimes forget to celebrate the victories of those species that have stepped back from the brink of extinction or extirpation.

The return of soaring bald eagles to the skies of Ohio and to the nation as a whole is definitely one of those victories.

A K-9 officer trains with his officer by biting an officer in protective gear.

As hunting seasons open this fall, the Ohio Department of Natural Resources (DNR), Division of Wildlife will have five more wildlife officers patrolling the state’s woods, fields, and marshes. Unlike the other 100 or so state wildlife officers, the new recruits will have cold, wet noses and wagging tails; they’re K-9s.

For the first time in its nearly 70-year history, the Ohio DNR has joined more than 20 other state conservation agencies in employing K-9 officers. During the past year, five dogs and their handlers have been trained and assigned — one per wildlife district.

A picture of an Ohio prairie

North America’s prairies once stretched from the foothills of the Rocky Mountains east into western Ohio, a staggering 1 million square miles or more of native grasslands that covered a third to nearly half of our country.

But what took millennia to develop disappeared in only half a century. The transformation began in 1833, when John Lane Sr. created the polished-steel, self-scouring plow, which could penetrate heavy prairie soils. A fellow blacksmith then improved upon Lane’s original design and marketed the new plow aggressively. That second blacksmith was John Deere.

A picture of the outside of the Old Johnston Farm, a large red building.

During the early 1800s, Ohio was the western edge of America’s frontier. A few Native American tribes still remained in the state, but the Indian Removal Act numbered their days. Passed by the U.S. Congress in 1830, the Act required all Indians living on reservations to move west of the Mississippi. The last to leave the Buckeye State were the Wyandot, and the man tasked with making that happen was John Johnston (1774–1861).

Mark Martin smiles and examines a huge walleye he caught.

I admit it: I’m hooked on fishing. Like most addicts, I like to believe I can quit at any time — just walk away. But deep down I know that’s not true. We fishermen even have an expression to explain our illness: “The tug is the drug.”

Last April, for instance, I was fishing the Detroit River, which is always cold in early spring. Even though the air temperature was in the low 50s that morning, high winds had 2-foot waves white-capping the 42-degree water, and it felt like winter.

A monarch butterfly sits on a flower.

Kelleys Island residents welcome the return each spring of their “feathered tourists” — songbirds, waterfowl, and raptors that pass through on their way to Canada.

So it was a rather obvious decision for the island’s innkeepers to band together to create an event around it. “Nest with the Birds” began in the 1980s as a way to drum up some early-season bookings by offering guided hikes and migration-related programs for birdwatchers.