Oliver's Woods Sunday morning the 24th of July. I went early at 8 to work when it was cooler.
I wanted to check the trails after a long seven weeks away and see how the Woods had fared during the great heat. The past six weeks has been one of historic June-July heat and drought. Day after day of increasing temperature rising over 100 F to triple digits, with no rain. I wanted to know how the trees, insects, vertebrates and biota were handling it all. I parked below the SW gate and walked a little ways until the main trail was blocked by a large tangle of branches broken from the crown of a dead elm. The trail ahead was also overgrown thickly with tall sedges. I took the south boundary trail.
The ground there was bleached with heat, but the deep-rooted bur oaks looked OK. They had had a good wet spring and early summer. On the Two Friends Trail, I quickly encountered a disheveled opossum six feet up in a small persimmon, looking reluctant to put forth the energy to climb farther, if I was not going to approach closer. When I did approach closer, it slid around the opposite side of the tree and climbed a little more - slowly. The opossum and I regarded each other for a few minutes and I walked on north through the brush on the western end of the old windblown dune. Herbaceous annuals like Elephantopus, elephant's-foot were wilting, but small shrubs like Symphoricarpos buckbrush were not.
There were lots of dead branches, but not from drought. They were the abundant invasive exotic Ligustrum privet. Their tops had been killed by exceptional cold weather in the February 2021 freeze. I cleared them where they had curled downward into the trail - and disappointed orb weavers that had spun their webs overnight. There were just a few mosquitoes, hardly any, and it was too dry for ticks.
Katydids kept up their rising and falling droning sound. There were some wrens buzzing and woodpeckers drumming, a little ways deeper into the Woods. Descending the forested dune to the big cottonwood, the soil was dried into irregular polygons of organic silt muck. Each polygon was bound in place by roots from below and some from the sides of the polygons. I grew excited contemplating the abundant sheltered niches produced by the deeper fissures, 3-5 inches deep on all sides of each polygon. Out of the sun, in cooler and moister habitats, sheltered from the hot dry diurnal environment. I wondered how many species of arthropods and other invertebrates would be there now. What were the communities of these summer crevices like? What would happen to these crevices and their communities in the first moderate rains? An 'Ecology of Crevices'.
I spotted one young white-tail dashing away from me through the young box elder. I had disturbed its quiet refuge where humans rarely ever intruded in the summer months. Back on the south side of the Woods closer to the quiet trash Transfer Station I heard a dog barking and saw the same stray dog that had been in and around the Woods for two thirds of a year. It barked and behaved like it would aggressively defend against any approach. I left it and walked on west to clear broken branches across the south boundary trail. To my surprise, the dog came after me, quietly. It approached, stopped, yawned and then looking a bit nervous, passed by within five feet of me. I worked a while longer and then walked to an old oak log to sit and write. The dog approached me, probably hungry, but not aggressive. It lingered near me within 5-10 feet for a few minutes and I thought it probably has good potential as a 'rescue' dog. I know it does not belong in the Woods hunting rabbits and other vertebrates, disturbing the animals in the wildlife refuge. In my mind I named the dog 'Oliver' and wished it well.. in a good home.
Heading north into the central and northwest Woods I was struck by the abundant 1-2 meter high growth of box elder leaves. They were a sort of green bandage covering the wounds of the woods, the places where trees had fallen, where other trees had been crushed. The box elder dominated the head high under story and made the Woods a place of hiding where all its animals could find escape and refuge.
Since my most recent previous visit in early June, large pecan branches have fallen throughout the Woods. Green when they fell, their new leaves are now a relatively bright cinnamon brown. Must have been some stronger June winds to have ripped them down from the canopy, and pecan branches may not be that strong. By Carpenter's big fallen cottonwood large catalpa leaves are bright green and growing fast to benefit from the newly opened space. Smaller poison ivy leaves are sprouting here and there as well. Poison ivy had become uncommon as I removed it from trail sides and the closed woods was not optimal for it. I will renew my campaign to remove most of it from trails to make them safe for students who may not recognize it.
The NW Pond and East Ponds were both quite a sight. The NW pond was dried to a small remnant shallow pool, maybe one third the diameter of the spring. A large old snapper turtle moved slowly along in the muddy water over the soft muddy bottom. Master of the pond. There were scores of young frogs hopping along the shoreline and I thought the snapper was probably harvesting as many as it could hold. This may well have been the best feed of the year, the time that kept the quiet unmoving snapper alive through cold winter months. The East Pond was even smaller, the size of a few bathtubs united. No turtles foraging there, but there were the same hordes of small frogs hopping across the muddy shore of the pond.
Exhausted from clearing large tree tops and branches from trails, I emerged back into bright light and hot sun at noon.
