Twelve Days in Wisconsin

As the Christmas season is fast approaching, I thought it would be fitting to post my Wisconsin version of the popular Christmas carol, The Twelve Days of Christmas.

On the 1st day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 2nd day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 3rd day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 4th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 5th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 6th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me six jumping juncos, five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 7th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me seven sparrows singing, six jumping juncos, five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 8th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me eight chipmunks chipping, seven sparrows singing, six jumping juncos, five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 9th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me nine squirrels-a-scurrying, eight chipmunks chirping, seven sparrows singing, six juncos jumping, five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 10th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me ten tufted titmice, nine squirrels-a-scurrying, eight chipmunks chirping, seven sparrows singing, six juncos jumping, five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 11th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me eleven skunks-a-stinking, ten tufted titmice, nine squirrels-a-scurrying, eight chipmunks chirping, seven sparrows singing, six juncos jumping, five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

On the 12th day in Wisconsin, my true love sent to me twelve deer-a-leaping, eleven skunks-a-stinking, ten tufted titmice, nine squirrels-a-scurrying, eight chipmunks chirping , seven sparrows singing, six juncos jumping, five chickadees, four cardinals, three hummingbirds, two mourning doves, and a woodpecker in a spruce tree.

I challenge you to make up your own Twelve Days in Wisconsin song (or substitute another favorite Christmas tune) using names of native animals or birds. I look forward to reading your carols.

Pipsquack?!

When I lived in Menasha, Wisconsin, my house was located on a channel of the Fox River, so wildlife was plentiful in my backyard, especially ducks! I often bought 50 pounds of corn (which I kept in my dining room, next to patio door) for my feathered friends. The ducks were such frequent visitors that they soon became tame enough to hand-feed, and eventually acquired names. One particularly bold duck, who earned the moniker "Lou Anne", would waddle right up on my deck and quack at the patio door for more corn, to which I obliged.

While gardening in my back yard one day, I thought one of the ducks had waddled up onto the wharf for more food, but upon closer inspection, it wasn't a duck at all. It was the strangest creature that I had ever seen! It looked like some huge prehistoric bird--it was about three feet tall, slate gray, with long spindly legs, and a long pointy beak. I kept thinking that I had witnessed some rare, once-thought-to-be-extinct-bird---and it was in MY BACK YARD! I had an immediate flashback to the "Hold That Pose" cartoon in which Tom and Jerry, armed only with cameras, are "in search of the rare, never-before-photographed, fuzzy-feathered pipsquacker bird." The statuesque creature perched quietly on the wharf, unfazed as I stared in awe, a mere 10 feet away. My curious visitor's stay lasted only five or ten minutes, but it was incredible, nonetheless!

Later, I found out that I had not spotted the "rare and elusive pipsquacker bird" or any other "rare" bird, for that matter--it was, in fact, a cormorant. Some great bird watcher I am! In all of my years living in Wisconsin, I had never seen such a creature! What's even funnier, a month or so later, a friend told  me that he had seen" the weirdest looking bird he'd ever seen" while boating on Lake Winnebago. Go figure!

What's the strangest creature you have ever seen?

GBBC is for the Birds!

Gadwalls, and kestrals, and cormorants, oh my! What is GBBC? The Great Backyard Bird Count! For four days every February, bird watchers young and old record all of the different species of birds that they see. This information helps scientists to track bird species, identify population growth or reduction, and see how diseases (such as West Nile virus) are affecting regional bird populations.

It doesn't matter whether you see only five different birds, or bird-watch for only 15 minutes a day--it all helps! Species tracking sheets for your area are available at http://gbbc.birdsource.org/gbbcApps/checklist.

Check out the Great Backyard Bird Count website.

In Search of Saw-Whet Owls

I had never seen--or even heard--of saw-whet owls until a friend of mine invited my son and I to visit the Linwood Springs Research Station in Stevens Point, Wisconsin. My son, Harrison, was ecstatic to discover that not only could we see real, live owls, but we could also hold them as well!

Our evening began with an introduction to saw-whet owls and the raptor research done at Linwood Springs, followed by a short video. Then came the really exciting part--going out to find owls! Linwood Springs bands owls during the saw-whet's mating season, in late September, October, and the first week of November. The station has several acres of wooded land partitioned with special netting to "catch" owls. A saw-whet call is broadcast over a speaker system close to the netting, which draws the owls to the area. The fine netting gently captures the little owls, and every hour, from dusk until dawn, the researchers return to the net area to see how many owls have been caught. Then, they are removed from the nets and placed in a carrying case made out of orange juice concentrate containers duct-taped together, with holes punched in the ends so that they can breathe. The owls seem to like this little makeshift cocoon--it helps them feel safe. Then the researchers bring the owls into the research station to be weighed, banded, and recorded, and visitors can have a chance to hold the owls.

Northern saw-whets are very docile birds, and will perch calmly into your hand when the talons are held (they are about the size of an ice cream cone). Both of my children (then 3 and 6 years old) handled the owls with ease. If the owl starts to get a bit restless from too much handling, the researcher simply puts him/her back into the orange juice cocoon for a while and they calm down. The research station also offers an "adopt a raptor" program. Individuals can sponsor one of the owls captured during their visit, and Linwood Springs will send updates on their owl as he/she is recorded at different raptor research stations throughout Wisconsin and northern Minnesota.

We were lucky enough to have a barred owl captured in the net on our second visit to the station. Though we couldn't hold this one, we could pet him. It was amazing to see this beautiful bird up close.

By far, this was one of the coolest field trips we have ever taken! I highly recommend visiting Linwood Springs. Reservations are required. Raptor research classes are also offered in the fall. Visit their website at www.RaptorResearch.com

Living in Wisconsin

As a life-long Wisconsinite, a trip to the Sonoran Desert in Tucson, Arizona, really opened my eyes to the vast differences in landscape, culture, and animals. I was amazed at the beautiful painted sunsets in the desert, the sound of coyotes yipping in the distance, the quail and roadrunners scuttling across the desert wash, and the towering saguaro cacti.

I also never thought about some of the dangers of living in the desert. Although I was told to take a walking stick with me when hiking in the mountains (in case of rattlesnake encounters), and not keep the outside door ajar (as a stray javelinas may wander into your house), no one told me not to lie on the ground while taking pictures of cacti (there are lots of scorpions), or that there were mountain lions in the desert--that never even occurred to me.

It was the case of being a stranger in a strange land. Fortunately, I didn't see any scorpions, javelinas, or mountain lions while in the desert, but it makes me wonder what I would warn visitors about before they began exploring the forests and prairies of Wisconsin (bears, deer ticks, and skunks come to mind!).

I've had a few wild animal encounters in Wisconsin. While riding my bike one fall evening, a six-point buck leapt out of the woods, across the gravel road about 10 feet in front of me--scared me half to death! I also had a near-miss with a skunk while on my bike--that wouldn't have been good! Oh, and did I mention that I had an opossum living under my deck in Menasha?!

While camping in Peninsula State Park one summer, the zipper on our tent broke--right after we had just unloaded all of our food supplies. Since it was raining, we left everything in the tent, and headed back into town to buy a new tent. We returned to find a skunk leisurely munching on marshmallows and Hershey bars in the tent, and biggest raccoon I'd ever seen eating a half-opened bag of bread in the woods nearby. Needless to say, the next morning, we headed back to town to buy more groceries.

During a stay at a bed & breakfast on Madeline Island, I woke up to find a black bear staring at me through the patio door while hanging by his paws from the deck above. It seems that he had a hankering for some birdseed from the second-story bird feeder, so he climbed up the deck railing for a midnight snack. His feast was abruptly interrupted by the innkeeper shooing him off the deck with her broom. The next night, we kept a careful watch while sitting in the outdoor hot tub!

Do you have any Wisconsin wild animal encounters that you'd like to share?