





LIFE IN THE LOWER SUSQUEHANNA RIVER WATERSHED
A Natural History of Conewago Falls—The Waters of Three Mile Island





As they travel between coastal wintering ranges and breeding territories in Canada and Alaska, vast numbers of shorebirds pass through the lower Susquehanna region each spring and fall—though few stop here to rest, feed, and provide us with an opportunity to observe them. Prior to the construction of man-made dams and other alterations on our lotic (flowing) waterways including the river, shorebirds took advantage of lateral bars, stream deltas, and other alluvial deposits as places to loaf and re-energize. Before they were drained and filled, some of the valley’s wetlands probably included sparsely vegetated flats where shorebirds could drop in for a brief visit. Previous to their extirpation from our region, North American Beavers were the primary providers of quality habitat for shorebirds and other migrating waders on our lotic waters. Their widespread network of dams, pools, and marshes maximized floodplain function by keeping streams thoroughly connected to their wetlands, nurturing plant communities that not only provided food and shelter for the beavers and other wildlife, but provided superb buffering against erosion while protecting against sediment and nutrient imbalances in lower Susquehanna waterways.








So how did this happen? How did the North American Beaver become a keystone species—an animal upon which the majority of other life forms within its ecosystem are so reliant? Well, it’s largely due to the fact that our beavers aren’t particularly fond of a constant stream of noise. More specifically, they don’t like the sound of running water in places where they intend to build and maintain a lodge. And so, as they begin to place sticks, mud, limbs, stones, and other materials within a noisy riffle on a stream, they create a dam, and behind it a pool—a pool that is particularly advantageous for protecting their home and providing a means of conveyance for their construction materials and food supplies.











While North American Beavers have returned to the region, most live as “bank beavers”, residing in the river and larger creeks of the valley where they excavate shelters among the roots of Black Willows and other shoreline trees and shrubs. Floodplain encroachment, legacy sediment deposits, and just plain human intolerance have all conspired to prohibit North American Beavers from performing their magic on smaller local streams. For migrating shorebirds, this continued absence of beaver dam ecosystems has turned much of the lower Susquehanna valley into “flyover country”. Those travelers that do stop to rest and feed concentrate at the few favorable locations such as the lateral bars and the hydroelectric dam-created delta at the Conejohela Flats on the river in Lancaster County. But centralization has its drawbacks. Migrants spending time at concentration points may have a greater chance of contracting and spreading disease. Protracted heavy foraging can degrade these habitats. And over time, features such the lateral bars and delta deposits, including those on the Conejohela Flats, transition into other habitats—riparian forests. A more widespread selection of favorable stopover points for shorebirds, waders, waterfowl, and other migrants is certainly desirable.
IMITATION IS THE SINCEREST FORM OF FLATTERY
Until public sentiment sways in favor of the North American Beaver, wildlife managers are mimicking some of the attributes of their sound-inspired installations.

Shallow-water conservation impoundments designed, constructed, and managed for migratory waterfowl and waders including shorebirds are not what we typically refer to as ponds—though they are lentic (still) waters. Similar shallow freshwater impoundments at our National Wildlife Refuges are referred to as pools by the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, but smaller versions like this example at Middle Creek very closely resemble the prairie potholes created by glacial scour in the north-central United States and adjacent portions of Canada. Many populations of migratory birds are familiar with pothole ecosystems and, like the beaver pools and marshes, have relied upon them as waypoints along their journeys for centuries.


You’ve heard the line, “If you build it, they will come.” Well, it’s true. Here is a sample of the activity witnessed during the past two weeks at the new impoundment completed just several months ago at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area along the tour route just beyond the “Stop 3” overlook.






















Species of wildlife in addition to shorebirds and waterfowl have already found the new impoundment favorable…










Managing saturation levels in shallow-water impoundments to resemble the seasonal variations in beaver pool and marsh systems can create lush growth and wildlife-rich environments. Take a look at some images from a project in a headwaters area of a tributary to Conewago Creek (west)…







So that you can relax while observing the comings and goings at a pair of the lower Susquehanna valley’s man-made impoundments, the Pennsylvania Game Commission has erected two viewing pavilions for public use on its lands…




During the next two weeks, the exodus of migrating shorebirds now staged and feeding upon Atlantic Horseshoe Crab eggs on Delaware Bay will commence. During the evening of their departure from the bay, many of these birds cross portions of the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, particularly east of the river. Stormy weather and other climatic conditions may force some of them to seek a place to put down temporarily, so keeping a close eye on the new pothole-like impoundment at Middle Creek may be a prudent move. After that, waders known as “post-breeding wanderers” can show up at any time. Then, beginning as early as late June, shorebirds begin moving south on a migration that can provide us with viewing opportunities into September and beyond. See you out there!
Currently in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, you can find these five species of herbaceous plants in full bloom. As they grow, they and others like them help to purify waters within their respective ecosystems by taking up nutrients—namely, the nitrogen and phosphorus that can lead to detrimental algal blooms and eutrophication in ponds, lakes, streams, and rivers.









The Aphrodite Fritillary (Speyeria aphrodite), also known simply as the Aphrodite, is a brush-footed butterfly of deciduous, coniferous, and mixed forests. We found this female in a grassland margin between woodlots where prescribed fire was administered during the autumn of 2022 to reduce accumulations of natural fuels and an overabundance of invasive vegetation. A goal of the burn was to promote the growth of native species including the violets (Viola species) favored as larval host plants by this and other fritillaries.

By the time these adult butterflies make their reproductive flights in late summer, the violets that serve as larval host plants have gone dormant. To find patches of ground where the violets will come to life in spring, the female Aphrodite Fritillary has an ability to sense the presence of dormant roots, probably by smell. Upon finding an area where suitable violets will begin greening up next year, she’ll deposit her eggs. The eggs overwinter, then hatch to feed on the tender new violet leaves of spring.


Resilient to the pressures of flooding, ice scour, drought, and oft times really poor water quality, Water Willow (Dianthera americana, formerly Justicia americana) is the most common herbaceous plant on the Susquehanna’s non-forested alluvial islands. Yet, few know this native wildflower by name or reputation.



The spring of 2024 has been very kind to our beds of Water Willow. Rainfall in the Susquehanna watershed has been frequent enough to maintain river levels just high enough to keep the roots of the plants wet. During the interludes in storm activity, dry spells have rolled back any threat of flooding on the river’s main stem, thus eliminating chances of submerging the plants in muddy water and preventing the sun from keeping them warm, happy, and flowering early. Thundershowers throughout the basin earlier this week have now raised the river a few inches to inundate the base of the plants and make mats of Water Willow favorable places for newly hatched fry and other young fish to take refuge while they grow. Here’s a look…









By now you’ve come to appreciate the importance of Water Willow to the sustainability of our populations of fish and other aquatic life. Like similar habitat features that reduce sediment runoff and nutrient pollution, undisturbed stands of terrestrial, emergent, and submerged native plant species are essential to the viability of our freshwater food webs.
Homo sapiens owes much of its success as a species to an acquired knowledge of how to make, control, and utilize fire. Using fire to convert the energy stored in combustible materials into light and heat has enabled humankind to expand its range throughout the globe. Indeed, humans in their furless incomplete mammalian state may have never been able to expand their populations outside of tropical latitudes without mastery of fire. It is fire that has enabled man to exploit more of the earth’s resources than any other species. From cooking otherwise unpalatable foods to powering the modern industrial society, fire has set man apart from the rest of the natural world.
In our modern civilizations, we generally look at the unplanned outbreak of fire as a catastrophe requiring our immediate intercession. A building fire, for example, is extinguished as quickly as possible to save lives and property. And fires detected in fields, brush, and woodlands are promptly controlled to prevent their exponential growth. But has fire gone to our heads? Do we have an anthropocentric view of fire? Aren’t there naturally occurring fires that are essential to the health of some of the world’s ecosystems? And to our own safety? Indeed there are. And many species and the ecosystems they inhabit rely on the periodic occurrence of fire to maintain their health and vigor.

Man has been availed of the direct benefits of fire for possibly 40,000 years or more. Here in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, the earliest humans arrived as early as 12,000 years ago—already possessing skills for using fire. Native plants and animals on the other hand, have been part of the ever-changing mix of ecosystems found here for a much longer period of time—millions to tens of millions of years. Many terrestrial native species are adapted to the periodic occurrence of fire. Some, in fact, require it. Most upland ecosystems need an occasional dose of fire, usually ignited by lightning (though volcanism and incoming cosmic projectiles are rare possibilities), to regenerate vegetation, release nutrients, and maintain certain non-climax habitat types.
But much of our region has been deprived of natural-type fires since the time of the clearcutting of the virgin forests during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. This absence of a natural fire cycle has contributed to degradation and/or elimination of many forest and non-forest habitats. Without fire, a dangerous stockpile of combustible debris has been collecting, season after season, in some areas for a hundred years or more. Lacking periodic fires or sufficient moisture to sustain prompt decomposition of dead material, wildlands can accumulate enough leaf litter, thatch, dry brush, tinder, and fallen wood to fuel monumentally large forest fires—fires similar to those recently engulfing some areas of the American west. So elimination of natural fire isn’t just a problem for native plants and animals, its a potential problem for humans as well.

To address the habitat ailments caused by a lack of natural fires, federal, state, and local conservation agencies are adopting the practice of “prescribed fire” as a treatment to restore ecosystem health. A prescribed fire is a controlled burn specifically planned to correct one or more vegetative management problems on a given parcel of land. In the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, prescribed fire is used to…
Let’s look at some examples of prescribed fire being implemented right here in our own neighborhood…

























In Pennsylvania, state law provides landowners and crews conducting prescribed fire burns with reduced legal liability when the latter meet certain educational, planning, and operational requirements. This law may help encourage more widespread application of prescribed fire in the state’s forests and other ecosystems where essential periodic fire has been absent for so very long. Currently in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, prescribed fire is most frequently being employed by state agencies on state lands—in particular, the Department of Conservation and Natural Resources on State Forests and the Pennsylvania Game Commission on State Game Lands. Prescribed fire is also part of the vegetation management plan at Fort Indiantown Gap Military Reservation and on the land holdings of the Hershey Trust. Visitors to the nearby Gettysburg National Military Park will also notice prescribed fire being used to maintain the grassland restorations there.
For crews administering prescribed fire burns, late March and early April are a busy time. The relative humidity is often at its lowest level of the year, so the probability of ignition of previous years’ growth is generally at its best. We visited with a crew administering a prescribed fire at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area last week. Have a look…

















Prescribed burns aren’t a cure-all for what ails a troubled forest or other ecosystem, but they can be an effective remedy for deficiencies caused by a lack of periodic episodes of naturally occurring fire. They are an important option for modern foresters, wildlife managers, and other conservationists.
She ate only toaster pastries…that’s it…nothing else. Every now and then, on special occasions, when a big dinner was served, she’d have a small helping of mashed potatoes, no gravy, just plain, thank you. She received all her nutrition from several meals a week of macaroni and cheese assembled from processed ingredients found in a cardboard box. It contains eight essential vitamins and minerals, don’t you know? You remember her, don’t you?
Adult female butterflies must lay their eggs where the hatched larvae will promptly find the precise food needed to fuel their growth. These caterpillars are fussy eaters, with some able to feed upon only one particular species or genus of plant to grow through the five stages, the instars, of larval life. The energy for their fifth molt into a pupa, known as a chrysalis, and metamorphosis into an adult butterfly requires mass consumption of the required plant matter. Their life cycle causes most butterflies to be very habitat specific. These splendid insects may visit the urban or suburban garden as adults to feed on nectar plants, however, successful reproduction relies upon environs which include suitable, thriving, pesticide-free host plants for the caterpillars. Their survival depends upon more than the vegetation surrounding the typical lawn will provide.
The Monarch (Danaus plexippus), a butterfly familiar in North America for its conspicuous autumn migrations to forests in Mexico, uses the milkweeds (Asclepias) almost exclusively as a host plant. Here at Conewago Falls, wetlands with Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) and unsprayed clearings with Common Milkweed (A. syriaca) are essential to the successful reproduction of the species. Human disturbance, including liberal use of herbicides, and invasive plant species can diminish the biomass of the Monarch’s favored nourishment, thus reducing significantly the abundance of the migratory late-season generation.



Butterflies are good indicators of the ecological health of a given environment. A diversity of butterfly species in a given area requires a wide array of mostly indigenous plants to provide food for reproduction. Let’s have a look at some of the species seen around Conewago Falls this week…








The spectacularly colorful butterflies are a real treat on a hot summer day. Their affinity for showy plants doubles the pleasure.
By the way, I’m certain by now you’ve recalled that fussy eater…and how beautiful she grew up to be.
SOURCES
Brock, Jim P., and Kaufman, Kenn. 2003. Butterflies of North America. Houghton Mifflin Company. New York, NY.