Heat Flux Processes in Streams and Their Impact on Coldwater and Coolwater Fishes

The deluge of rain that soaked the lower Susquehanna watershed during last week is now just a memory.  Streams to the west of the river, where the flooding courtesy of the remnants of Hurricane Debby was most severe, have reached their crest and receded.  Sliding away toward the Chesapeake and Atlantic is all that runoff, laden with a brew of pollutants including but not limited to: agricultural nutrients, sediment, petroleum products, sewage, lawn chemicals, tires, dog poop, and all that litter—paper, plastics, glass, Styrofoam, and more.  For aquatic organisms including our freshwater fish, these floods, particularly when they occur in summer, can compound the effects of the numerous stressors that already limit their ability to live, thrive, and reproduce.

(Environmental Protection Agency image)

One of those preexisting stressors, high water temperature, can be either intensified or relieved by summertime precipitation.  Runoff from forested or other densely vegetated ground normally has little impact on stream temperature.  But segments of waterways receiving significant volumes of runoff from areas of sun-exposed impervious ground will usually see increases during at least the early stages of a rain event.  Fortunately, projects implemented to address the negative impacts of stormwater flow and stream impairment can often have the additional benefit of helping to attenuate sudden rises in stream temperature.

Stream Subjected to Agricultural Runoff
While a row of trees along a creek can help provide protection from the thermal impact of the sun, a vegetative riparian buffer must be much wider to be effective for absorbing, cooling, and treating runoff from fields, lawns, and paved surfaces.  This buffer is too narrow to prevent surface runoff from polluting the water.

Of the fishes inhabiting the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed’s temperate streams, the least tolerant of summer warming are the trouts and sculpins—species often described as “coldwater fishes”.  Coldwater fishes require water temperatures below 70° Fahrenheit to thrive and reproduce.  The optimal temperature range is 50° to 65° F.  In the lower Susquehanna valley, few streams are able to sustain trouts and sculpins through the summer months—largely due to the effects of warm stormwater runoff and other forms of impairment.

Blue Ridge Sculpin
Sculpins, including the Blue Ridge Sculpin (Cottus caeruleomentum) seen here, are native coldwater fishes which, during the 11,000 years since the last glacial maximum, have had the availability of their favored habitat sharply reduced by warming water temperatures and a rising Atlantic.  During this interval, seawater has inundated the path of the “Late” Pleistocene lower Susquehanna which passed through the section of flooded river watershed we now call Chesapeake Bay and continued across the continental shelf to what was, during the glacial maximum, the river’s mouth at Norfolk Canyon.  Today, cut off from neighboring drainage basins, sculpins survive exclusively in cold headwaters, and only in those where human alterations including pollution, dams, channelization, and reduced base flow haven’t yet eliminated their isolated populations.  Formerly believed to be composed of two widespread North American species, the Slimy Sculpin (Cottus cognatus) and the Mottled Sculpin (Cottus bairdii), study in recent decades is discovering that sculpin populations in the present-day lower Susquehanna and neighboring Potomac headwaters consist of at least three newly delineated species: Blue Ridge Sculpin, Potomac Sculpin (Cottus gerardi), and Checkered Sculpin (Cottus sp.), the latter an as yet undescribed species found only in the refugium of limestone springs in the Potomac drainage in West Virginia; Frederick and Washington Counties, Maryland; and Franklin County, Pennsylvania.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Ice Age Susquehanna
Stare at this for a little while, you’ll figure it out…………More than 11,000 years ago, during the last glacial maximum, when sea level was about 275 feet lower than it is today, there was no Chesapeake Bay, just a great Susquehanna River that flowed to the edge of the continental shelf and its mouth at Norfolk Canyon.  It was a river draining taiga forests of pine, spruce , and fir, and it carried along the waters of all the present-day bay’s tributaries and more.  The section of the river’s watershed we presently call the lower Susquehanna was, at the time, the upper Susquehanna watershed.  Brook Trout and sculpins had the run of the river and its tributaries back then.  And the entire watershed was a coldwater fishery, with limestone and other groundwater springs providing not refuge from summer heat, but a place to escape freezing water.  (United States Geological Survey base image)
Norfolk Canyon, the mouth of the Susquehanna River during the most recent glacial maximum, now lies more than 275 feet below the surface of the ocean and plunges to more than a mile in depth along the finger of out wash from the gorge.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Rainbow. Brown, and Brook Trout
Tens of thousands of trout are raised in state-operated and cooperative nurseries for stocking throughout the lower Susquehanna valley.  These rearing facilities are located on spring-fed headwaters with sufficient flow to assure cold temperatures year round.  While the Rainbow Trout and Brown Trout (Salmo trutta) are the most commonly stocked species, the Brook Trout (Salvelinus fontinalis) is the only one native to American waters.  It is the least tolerant of stream warming and still reproduces in the wild only in a few pristine headwaters streams in the region.  During spring, all three of these species have been observed on rare occasions entering the fish lift facilities at the hydroelectric dams on the river, presumably returning to the Susquehanna as sea-run trout.

Coldwater fishes are generally found in small spring-fed creeks and  headwaters runs. Where stream gradient, substrate, dissolved oxygen, and other parameters are favorable, some species may be tolerant of water warmer than the optimal values.  In other words, these temperature classifications are not set in stone and nobody ever explained ichthyology to a fish, so there are exceptions.  The Brown Trout for example is sometimes listed as a “coldwater transition fish”, able to survive and reproduce in waters where stream quality is exceptionally good but the temperature may periodically reach the mid-seventies.

Eastern Blacknose Dace
The Eastern Blacknose Dace is sometimes classified as a “coldwater transition fish”.   It can be found in headwaters runs as well as in creeks with good water quality.
Longnose Dace
The Longnose Dace is another “coldwater transition fish” known only from clear, clean, flowing waters.

More tolerant of summer heat than the trouts, sculpins, and daces are the “coolwater fishes”—species able to feed, grow, and reproduce in streams with a temperature of less than 80° F, but higher than 60° F.  Coolwater fishes thrive in creeks and rivers that hover in the 65° to 70° F range during summer.

Creek Chubs
The Creek Chub is a familiar species of “coolwater fish” seldom found remaining in waters exceeding 80 degrees Fahrenheit.
The Yellow Perch (Perca flavescens) was perhaps the most frequently targeted coolwater “gamefish” in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed prior to the introduction of the Northern Pike (Esox lucius) and Muskellunge (Esox masquinongy).  Today’s prevalence of warmwater streams and the dozens of species of non-native predatory fishes now naturalized within them have left the Yellow Perch populations greatly reduced and all but forgotten by anglers.  Out of sight, out of mind.  (National Park Service image)

What are the causes of modern-day reductions in coldwater and coolwater fish habitats in the lower Susquehanna River and its hundreds of miles of tributaries?  To answer that, let’s take a look at the atmospheric, cosmic, and hydrologic processes that impact water temperature.  Technically, these processes could be measured as heat flux—the rate of heat energy transfer per unit area per unit time, frequently expressed as watts per meter squared (W/m²).  Without getting too technical, we’ll just take a look at the practical impact these processes have on stream temperatures.

HEAT FLUX PROCESSES IN A SEGMENT OF STREAM

Heat Flux Processes on Stream and River Segments.  These processes could be measured as heat flux—the rate of heat energy transfer per unit area per unit time.  (Environmental Protection Agency image)
      • INCOMING TEMPERATURE AND FLOW—The baseline temperature of stream water entering a given segment of waterway is obviously the chief factor determining its temperature when exiting that segment.  Incoming temperature and flow also determine the water’s susceptibility to heat absorption or loss while transiting the segment.  Lower flows may subject the given volume of water to a greater loss or gain of heat energy during the time needed to pass through the segment than the same volume at a higher flow.  Lower flows may also reduce stream velocity and extend a given volume of water’s exposure time to the exchange of heat energy while moving through the segment.  Generally speaking…
        1. …the higher the stream flow, the less a given volume of that stream’s  water may be impacted by the effects of the heat flux processes within the segment.
        2. …the lower the stream flow, the more a given volume of that stream’s water may be impacted by the effects of the heat flux processes within that segment.
        3. …the temperature and flow rate of precipitation entering the segment are factors that determine the impact of its heat energy transfer to or from a given volume of the stream’s waters.
        4. …the temperature and flow rate of runoff and point-source discharges entering the segment are factors that determine the impact of their heat energy transfer to or from a given volume of the stream’s waters.
Stormwater Discharge into Channelized Creek
Stormwater from impervious surfaces including roads, parking lots, roofs, and lawns quickly impacts temperatures in small creeks.  Channelized  streams are availed few of the positive attributes provided by many of the heat flux processes we’re about to see.  They therefore suffer from severe impairment and are exposed to temperature extremes that few aquatic organisms can survive.  Runoff from sun-heated pavement during a summer thunderstorm can often exceed 100 degrees Fahrenheit and can, at sufficient flow rate, quickly raise the temperature of a small stream to well over 90 degrees.
Stormwater Runoff
Stormwater runoff not only poses a thermal threat to waterways, its a significant source of a wide variety of pollutants.
      • GROUNDWATER INPUT—In streams connected to the aquifer, the temperature in a flowing segment can be impacted by the influx of cold groundwater.  With temperatures ranging from about 52° to 60° Fahrenheit, groundwater will absorb heat from the stream in summer, and warm it in the winter.  In warmwater streams, coldwater and coolwater fishes will often seek areas of the substrate where groundwater is entering for use as refugium from the summer heat.  Yellow Perch in the lower Susquehanna are known to exhibit this behavior.
Creeks and rivers connected to the aquifer and receiving supplemental flow from it are known as “gaining streams”. These streams frequently feed water into the aquifer as well. (United States Geological Survey image)
When flowing through an area experiencing drought or an excessive removal of groundwater (lots of wells, etc.), a waterway can become a “losing stream”, one that surrenders a portion of its flow to recharge the aquifer.  Further downstream, the reduced flow can make such a creek or river more susceptible to the effects of heat flux processes.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Seriously depleted aquifers can lead to a “disconnected stream”.  Smaller waterways subjected to these conditions will sometimes lose all their flow to the ground, often causing a catastrophic failure of the aquatic ecosystem supported therein.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Urban Flooding and Dry Streambed
Urban runoff overwhelms this small stream with polluted water than can reach temperatures of 100 degrees or more (left), then lets it high and dry with no baseflow during periods of dry weather (right) as the waterway becomes disconnected from the much-depleted aquifer.
Stormwater Retention Basin
Well-designed and properly constructed stormwater retention basins not only recharge groundwater supplies for wells and streams, they can also help prevent thermal pollution in waterways.  Planted with native wetland species and allowed to thrive, they can become treasured wildlife islands in otherwise inhospitable environs.  The benefits don’t stop there; plants also help sequester nutrients contained in the runoff.
      • HYPORHEIC EXCHANGE—Related to groundwater input, hyporheic exchange is the slow movement of water through the rock, sand, gravel, and soils composing the streambed, saturated shoreline, shallow aquifer, and connected floodplain of a creek or river.  As a heat flux process, hyporheic exchange helps moderate extremes in seasonal water temperatures by conducting energy between the solid materials in the zone and the flowing water.  Hyporheic zones are important habitats for many species of aquatic invertebrates and spawning fish.  Natural chemical processes within these zones convert ammonia-producing wastes into nitrite, then nitrate, allowing it to be absorbed as food by plants growing in the stream or in the alluvium within the zone.  Vegetation removal, channelization, legacy sediments, silt deposits, and man-made walls and dams can negate the benefits of hyporheic exchange.
Exchange of surface and ground water within the hyporheic zone is most directly associated with high-gradient (left) and meandering (right) segments of streams. (United States Geological Survey image)
Legacy Sediments and Fill
Very common on streams in the lower Susquehanna valley are these accumulations of legacy sediments at the sites of former mill ponds.  After the dams were removed, the creeks began eroding their way down through the mire as they tried to reestablish their floodplains and find their native substrate.  These trapped waterways are not only cut off from their hyporheic zones, they’re now a major source of nutrient and sediment pollution.  Misguided landowners like this one frequently dump fill into these sites to “save their land” and “control flooding”.  The fill and materials added to “shore up the banks” do nothing to fix what ails the creek, but instead displace more water to make the impact of flooding even more widespread.
Flooplain and Stream Restoration
Rehabilitation projects that remove legacy sediments help restore hyporheic exchange by reconnecting the stream to its underlying geology, its floodplain, and its wetlands.  Rising waters remain in the floodplain where they get a good bio-scrubbing and help replenish the creek and groundwater supply.  As the experts say, “floodplains are for flooding.”
      • ATMOSPHERIC EXCHANGE (CONVECTION, EVAPORATION)—Primarily a process by which a stream loses heat energy and cools its waters, atmospheric exchange is also a means by which a warm air mass can relinquish heat to cooler waters and thus increase their temperature.  This phenomenon can be dramatically enhanced when a stream passes through a so-called urban heat island where air temperatures remain warm through the night.  Convection, the movement of heat energy through a fluid (liquid or gas), causes warmer, less-dense water to rise to the surface of a stream, particularly where there is minimal turbulence.  When the air above is cooler than the water’s surface layer, the stream will conduct heat energy across the water/atmosphere interface causing the warmed air molecules to rise in a convection column.  If the atmospheric relative humidity is less than 100%, some surface water will vaporize—a process that expends more of the stream’s heat energy.  The rate of convective and evaporative cooling in a given stream segment is directly related to the degree of difference between the water temperature and air temperature, and to the relative humidity in the air mass above the lake, creek, or river.  The mechanical action of stream turbulence including rapids, riffles, and falls increases the contact area between air and water to maximize the atmospheric exchange of heat energy.  The convective air current we call surface wind has a turbulent wave-producing effect on water that can also maximize atmospheric exchange; think of a cold autumn wind robbing heat energy from a warm lake or river or a hot summer wind imparting its heat to a cooler creek.  These exchanges are both conductive in nature (air-to-water/water-to-air) and evaporative, the latter being expedited by the movement of dry air over warm water.
Tessellated Darter
Usually classified as one of the coolwater fishes, the bottom-dwelling Tessellated Darter can thrive in the warmer creeks and in the main stem of the Susquehanna by inhabiting riffles where atmospheric exchange in the form of increased evaporation helps reduce temperatures and convective currents carry the cooler, well-oxygenated water to the streambed.
Three mile Island Unit 1 Cooling Towers
Humans utilize the concept of atmospheric exchange, adopting the phenomena of evaporation and convection to cool the hot waters produced during electric generation and other industrial processes before discharge into a lake or river.
      • STREAMBED CONDUCTIVE EXCHANGE—In the lower Susquehanna watershed, there may be no better natural example of streambed conductive exchange than the Triassic-Jurassic diabase pothole bedrocks of Conewago Falls on the river at the south end of Three Mile Island.
During sunny days, the massive diabase pothole rocks at Conewago Falls absorb solar (shortwave) radiation, then conduct that heat energy into the flowing water, often continuing to pass the accumulated warmth into the river during the night.  On cloudy days, the riverbed collects longwave atmospheric radiation, a heat flux process that yields significantly less energy for conduction into the rapids, riffles, and pools of the falls.  During periods of low river flow, the heating effect of streambed conductive exchange can become magnified.  Compared to conditions that prevail when torrents of turbid water are rushing through the falls, partially exposed bedrock surrounded by clear water collects radiated energy much more efficiently, then conducts the heat to a greatly reduced volume of passing water.  During summer and autumn, this process can create a mix of temperature zones within the falls with warmer water lingering in slow-moving pools and cooler water flowing in the deeper fast-moving channels.  Along the falls’ mile-long course, a haven is created for aquatic organisms including warmwater and some coolwater fishes, oft times attracting anglers and a variety of hungry migrating birds as well.
Fallfish
Classified as one of our coolwater fishes, the Fallfish finds favorable conditions for feeding, growing, and spawning in the well-oxygenated waters of Conewago Falls.
Northern Hog Sucker
Though the lower Susquehanna River is classified as a warmwater fishery, the Northern Hog Sucker (Hypentelium nigricans), another of our native coolwater fishes, finds the fast-moving waters of Conewago Falls to its liking.  Northern Hog Suckers are known to inhabit streams cold enough to host trout.  They exhibit remarkable home range fidelity, sometimes spending their entire lives occupying the same several hundred feet of waterway.  Northern Hog Suckers are often designated an indicator of good water quality, intolerant of many stream impairment parameters.  Their presence in Conewago Falls provides testament to the quality of the warmwater fishery there.
Severely Impaired Channelized Stream
An unnatural example.  The reduced base flow in this channelized and severely impaired creek has been rendered vulnerable to the negative impacts of several heat flux processes including streambed conductive exchange.  Urban stormwater/surfacewater inflow, solar (shortwave) radiation, and heat conducted into the stream from the masonry walls, curbs, and raceway can all conspire to cook aquatic organisms with life-quenching summer water temperatures exceeding 90 degrees Fahrenheit.
      • SOLAR (SHORTWAVE) RADIATION—The sun provides the energy that fuels the earth’s complex climate.  The primary heat flux process that heats our planet is the absorption of solar radiation in the shortwave spectrum, which includes ultraviolet, visible, and infrared frequencies at the upper end of the longwave spectrum.  Streams and other bodies of water absorb the greatest amounts of solar (shortwave) radiation during the weeks around summer solstice when the sun at mid-day is closer to zenith than at any other time of the year.  However, the heating impact of the radiation may be greatest when the volume of water in the creek, river, or lake is at its minimum for the year—often during early fall.
The rate, measured in watts per square meter, at which solar (shortwave) energy is directly radiated to a given area on the earth’s surface (including streams and other waters) is determined by: solar activity, the angle of the sun in the sky, aspect (slope) of the receiving surface, the opacity of the overlying atmosphere, and the distance of the earth from the sun.  The former varies with the year’s seasons, the time of day, and the latitude of a given area.  The latter is currently at its annual minimum when earth is at perihelion during the early days of January, thus providing the northern hemisphere with a little bump in radiation during the shortest days of the year when the sun is at its lowest angle in the sky.  (NASA image)
A varying portion of the solar (shortwave) radiation reaching the earth is reflected back into space by clouds.  A smaller share is absorbed by the atmosphere, thus heating it.  An even lesser quantity is reflected back into space by water and land.  The remainder of the energy is absorbed by the planet’s surfaces, its water and land. (NASA image)
      • INCIDENT SHORTWAVE RADIATION—Also known as insolation (incoming solar radiation), incident shortwave radiation is the sum total energy of both the direct solar radiation that travels to the earth’s surface unaffected by the atmosphere and the diffuse radiation, waves that have been weakened and scattered by constituents of the atmosphere before reaching the planet’s surface.  On a cloudy day, the warming of terrestrial surfaces including streams and other bodies of water is the result of diffuse radiation.  On days with any amount of sunshine at all, both direct and diffuse radiation heat our waters and lands.
Pumkinseed
Warmwater fishes such as the native Pumpkinseed (Lepomis gibbosus) thrive in sun-drenched 70-to-85-degree waters as long as other heat flux processes prevent sudden temperature increases and oxygen depletion.
Mowed Stream Bank
Mowed stream banks offer a waterway no protection from incoming solar (shortwave) radiation, nor terrestrial forms of impairment including nutrient-rich stormwater runoff and silt.
      • REFLECTED SHORTWAVE RADIATION—known as albedo, reflected solar (shortwave) radiation is energy directed away from the earth’s surface before being absorbed.  A surface’s albedo value is basically determined by its color, black having little reflective value, white and silvery surfaces reflecting nearly all solar (shortwave) radiation away.  A surface with no reflective properties has an albedo value of 0, while a totally reflective surface has a value of 1.  Clean snow with a value of about 0.85 to 0.9 (85% to 90%) is a highly reflective surface; yellow snow isn’t as good.  A stream, river, or lake blanketed with ice and snow will absorb very little solar energy and will rely upon other heat flux processes to trigger a melt and thaw.  The surface of open water has a varying albedo value determined mostly by the angle of the sun.  Solar radiation striking the water’s surface at a low angle is mostly reflected away, while that originating at an angle closer to zenith is more readily absorbed.
Forested Stream
To avoid the heating effects of solar (shortwave) and atmospheric longwave radiation, coldwater and coolwater fishes require streams offering protection from full exposure to direct sunlight and cloud cover.  Runs and creeks flowing beneath a closed canopy of forest trees are shielded from 25% or more of incoming radiation and are thus able to better maintain thermal stability during the most vulnerable period of the year for temperature-sensitive fishes, May through October.
      • LONGWAVE RADIATION—Radiation in the longwave spectrum is composed of infrared waves at frequencies lower than those of the shortwave spectrum.  Longwave radiation, sometimes just called infrared radiation, is produced by the earth and its atmosphere and is propagated in all directions, day and night.  It warms mostly the lower atmosphere which in turn warms the earth’s surface including its waters.  Some longwave energy can even be radiated into the waterway from its own streambed—and the stream can return the favor.  Other forms of mass surrounding  a stream such as a rocky shoreline or a man-made structure such as bridge pier can trade longwave radiation with a waterway.  The effect of these latter exchanges is largely trivial and never rivals the heat flux transfer of warm to cold provided by  conduction.
Longwave radiation emissions slow as the temperature of the emitting mass decreases, just as they also increase with temperature of the mass.  Longwave radiation emissions therefore decrease with altitude along with the temperature of the water vapor, carbon dioxide, methane, and other gases that produce them.  As such, the highest reaches of the atmosphere have a greatly reduced capability of shedding longwave radiation into space.  At ground level, lakes, creeks, and streams receive their greatest dose of longwave radiation while beneath the cover of low-lying clouds or fog.  (NASA image)
      • CANOPY RADIATION—Trees emit longwave radiation that may have a limited heat flux impact on waterway temperature.  This radiation is diffuse, of scattered effect, and scarcely detectable, particularly beneath multilayered dense canopies.  Some of the infrared energy transmitted by the tree canopy is radiated skyward as well.
      • WATER RADIATION—Water, like all earthly matter composed of vibrating molecules, emits longwave radiation.  This heat flux process provides an ongoing cooling effect to streams, rivers, lakes, and oceans—warmer ones shedding infrared energy at a faster rate than those that are cold.

Now that we have a basic understanding of the heat flux processes responsible for determining the water temperatures of our creeks and rivers, let’s venture a look at a few graphics from gauge stations on some of the lower Susquehanna’s tributaries equipped with appropriate United States Geological Survey monitoring devices.  While the data from each of these stations is clearly noted to be provisional, it can still be used to generate comparative graphics showing basic trends in easy-to-monitor parameters like temperature and stream flow.

Each image is self-labeled and plots stream temperature in degrees Fahrenheit (bold blue) and stream discharge in cubic feet per second (thin blue).

The West Conewago Creek drains much of the Gettysburg Basin’s Triassic redbeds in Adams and northern York Counties in Pennsylvania and includes a small headwaters area in northern Maryland.  The gauge station is located just a over a mile upstream from the waterway’s mouth on the Susquehanna just below Conewago Falls.  Right through the summer heatwave, this 90-day graph shows a consistent daily pattern of daytime rises in temperature and nighttime cooling.  To the right, a rapid cool down can be seen coinciding with two periods of high water, the first from a series of heavy thundershowers, the second from flooding caused by the remnants of Hurricane Debby.  Notice that the early August downpours were so heavy that they cooled the hot surface runoff and waterway quickly, without creating a rise in stream temperature at the gauging station.  Had this monitoring device been located on a small tributary in an area with an abundance of impervious surfaces, there would probably have been a brief rise in stream temperature prior to the cooldown.  (United States Geological Survey image)

The daily oscillations in temperature reflect the influence of several heat flux processes.  During the day, solar (shortwave) radiation and convection from summer air, especially those hot south winds, are largely responsible for the daily rises of about 5° F.  Longwave radiation has a round-the-clock influence—adding heat to the stream during the day and mostly shedding it at night.  Atmospheric exchange including evaporative cooling may help moderate the rise in stream temperatures during the day, and certainly plays a role in bringing them back down after sunset.  Along its course this summer, the West Conewago Creek absorbed enough heat to render it a warmwater fishery in the area of the gauging station.  The West Conewago is a shallow, low gradient stream over almost its entire course.  Its waters move very slowly, thus extending their exposure time to radiated heat flux and reducing the benefit of cooling by atmospheric exchange.  Fortunately for bass, catfish, and sunfish, these temperatures are in the ideal range for warmwater fishes to feed, grow, and reproduce—generally over 80° F, and ideally in the 70° to 85° F range.  Coolwater fishes though, would not find this stream segment favorable.  It was consistently above the 80° F maximum and the 60° to 70° F range preferred by these species.  And coldwater fishes, well, they wouldn’t be caught dead in this stream segment.  Wait, scratch that—the only way they would be caught in this segment is dead.  No trouts or sculpins here.

The Codorus Creek drains primarily the carbonate valleys of York County to the south of the West Conewago watershed.  This gauge station is located about a mile upstream from the creek’s mouth on the Susquehanna just below Haldeman Riffles.  The graphic pattern is very similar to that of the West Conewago’s: daily heating and cooling cycles and a noticeable drop in stream temperature in early August caused by a day of thundershowers followed by the remnants of Hurricane Debby.  (United States Geological Survey image)

Look closely and you’ll notice that although the temperature pattern on this chart closely resembles that of the West Conewago’s, the readings average about 5 degrees cooler.  This may seem surprising when one realizes that the Codorus follows a channelized path through the heart of York City and its urbanized suburbs—a heat island of significance to a stream this size.  Before that it passes through numerous impoundments where its waters are exposed to the full energy of the sun.  The tempering factor for the Codorus is its baseflow.  Despite draining a smaller watershed than its neighbor to the north, the Codorus’s baseflow (low flow between periods of rain) was 96 cubic feet per second on August 5th, nearly twice that of the West Conewago (51.1 cubic feet per second on August 5th).  Thus, the incoming heat energy was distributed over a greater mass in the Codorus and had a reduced impact on its temperature.  Though the Codorus is certainly a warmwater fishery in its lower reaches, coolwater and transitional fishes could probably inhabit its tributaries in segments located closer to groundwater sources without stress.  Several streams in its upper reaches are in fact classified as trout-stocked fisheries.

This is a zoomed-in look at the previous graph showing the impact of a rainfall event on the water temperatures in Codorus Creek.  Unlike the sharp declines accompanying the deluge of flood waters during the two events in early August, these lesser storms in late June generated just enough runoff to capture heat energy from impervious surfaces and warm the creek, temporarily breaking the daily heating/cooling cycle.  Upstream in the immediate area of the runoff, the impact on the stream and/or its tributaries was probably much more dramatic, certainly raising temperatures into the nineties or above.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Kreutz Creek drains a carbonate bedrock area of York County and flows parallel to the Lincoln Highway (US 30) to enter the Susquehanna at Wrightsville.  The gauging station is about one mile upstream from the creek’s mouth.   (United States Geological Survey image)

The Kreutz Creek gauge shows temperature patterns similar to those in the West Conewago and Codorus data sets, but notice the lower overall temperature trend and the flow.  Kreutz Creek is a much smaller stream than the other two, with a flow averaging less than one tenth that of the West Conewago and about one twentieth of that in the Codorus.  And most of the watershed is cropland or urban/suburban space.  Yet, the stream remains below 80° F through most of the summer.  The saving graces in Kreutz Creek are reduced exposure time and gradient.  The waters of Kreutz Creek tumble their way through a small watershed to enter the Susquehanna within twenty-four hours, barely time to go through a single daily heating and cooling cycle.  As a result, their is no chance for water to accumulate radiant and convective heat over multiple summer days.  The daily oscillations in temperature are less amplified than we find in the previous streams—a swing of about three degrees compared to five.  This indicates a better balance between heat flux processes that raise temperature and those that reduce it.  Atmospheric exchange in the stream’s riffles, forest cover, and good hyporheic exchange along its course could all be tempering factors in Kreutz Creek.  From a temperature perspective, Kreutz Creek provides suitable waters for coolwater fishes.

Muddy Creek drains portions of southern York County through rolling farmland and woodlots.  There are no large impoundments or widespread urban impacts in the watershed, which may help explain its slightly lower temperature trends.  (United States Geological Survey image)

Muddy Creek is a trout-stocked fishery, but it cannot sustain coldwater species through the summer heat.  Though temperatures in Muddy Creek may be suitable for coolwater fishes, silt, nutrients, low dissolved oxygen, and other factors could easily render it strictly a warmwater fishery, inhabited by species tolerant of significant stream impairment.

Chiques Creek drains mostly limestone farmland in northwestern Lancaster County.  The gauging station is located near the stream’s mouth on the Susquehanna at Chiques (Chickies) Rock.  Oscillations in temperature again resemble the other waterways, but daily highs remain almost entirely below 80 degrees.  (United States Geological Survey image)

A significant number of stream segments in the Chiques watershed have been rehabilitated to eliminate intrusion by grazing livestock, cropland runoff, and other sources of impairment.  Through partnerships between a local group of watershed volunteers and landowners, one tributary, Donegal Creek, has seen riparian buffers, exclusion fencing, and other water quality and habitat improvements installed along nearly ever inch of its run from Donegal Springs through high-intensity farmland to its mouth on the main stem of the Chiques just above its confluence with the Susquehanna.  The improved water quality parameters in the Donegal support native coldwater sculpins and an introduced population of reproducing Brown Trout.  While coldwater habitat is limited to the Donegal, the main stem of the Chiques and its largest tributary, the Little Chiques Creek, both provide suitable temperatures for coolwater fishes.

Limestone Formation on Little Chiques Creek
Streams in the Chiques Creek and similar limestone watersheds often pass through areas with significant bedrock formations.  Heat flux processes including groundwater input, hyporheic exchange, and streambed conductive exchange can have a greater influence on water temperature along these segments.
Eastern Blacknose Dace
A breeding condition Eastern Balcknose Dace, one of the coldwater transition fishes found in the Chiques and its tributaries.
Common Shiner
The Common Shiner (Luxilus cornutus), a fish tolerant of warmwater streams, prefers cool, clear waters for spawning.  For protection from late-spring and summer heat, breeding males may seek a section of creek with a streambed inflow of limestone groundwater to defend as their nesting territory.
A closeup of the Chiques Creek graph showing what appears to be a little bump in temperature caused by surface runoff during a couple of late-May showers.  Stream rehabilitation is an ongoing process and the pressures of land disturbances both old and new present challenges to those who make it their passion to fix the wrongs that have been inflicted upon our local waters.  Even the  exemplary Donegal Creek faces new threats from urbanization in one of its headwater areas several miles to the northwest of the historic springs.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Conewago Creek (East) drains primarily Triassic redbed farmlands in Dauphin, Lancaster, and Lebanon Counties.  Much of the headwaters area is forested but is experiencing an increasing rate of encroachment by housing and some commercial development.  Conewago Creek (East) enters the Susquehanna on the east side of Conewago Falls at Three Mile Island.  The watershed is equipped with three U.S.G.S. gauge stations capable of providing temperature data.  This first one is located just over a mile upstream of the creek’s mouth.  (United States Geological Survey image)

Despite its meander through and receipt of water from high-intensity farmland, the temperature of the lower Conewago (East) maxes out at about 85° F, making it ideal for warmwater fishes and even those species that are often considered coolwater transition fishes like introduced Smallmouth Bass, Rock Bass, Walleye, and native Margined Madtom.  This survivable temperature is a testament to the naturally occurring and planted forest buffers along much of the stream’s course, particularly on its main stem.  But the Conewago suffers serious baseflow problems compared to other streams we’ve looked at so far.  Just prior to the early August storms, flow was well below 10 cubic feet per second for a drainage area of more than fifty square miles.  While some of this reduced flow is the result of evaporation, much of it is anthropogenic in origin as the rate of groundwater removal continues to increase  and a recent surge in stream withdraws for irrigation reaches its peak during the hottest days of summer.

Juvenile Rock Bass
A juvenile Rock Bass.
A juvenile Margined Madtom.
A juvenile Margined Madtom.
A closer look at the Conewago Creek (East) graphic shows the temperature drop associated with a series of thundershowers and the remnants of Hurricane Debby in early August.  Despite the baseflow being below five cubic feet per second, the cooling effect of the downpours as measured in the area of the gauge was significant enough to overwhelm any heating of runoff that may have occurred as precipitation drained across hardened soils or man-made impervious surfaces.  (United States Geological Survey image)

A little side note—the flow rate on the Conewago at the Falmouth gauge climbed to about 160 cubic feet per second as a result of the remnants of Hurricane Debby while the gauge on the West Conewago at Manchester skyrocketed to about 20,000 cubic feet per second.  Although the West Conewago’s watershed (drainage area) is larger than that of the Conewago on the east shore, it’s larger only by a multiple of two or three, not 125.  That’s a dramatic difference in rainfall!

The Bellaire monitoring station on Conewago Creek (East) is located on the stream’s main stem just downstream from the mouth of Little Conewago Creek, a tributary with its origins in farmland and woodlots.  (United States Geological Survey image)

The temperatures at the Bellaire monitoring station, which is located upstream of the Conewago’s halfway point between its headwaters in Mount Gretna and its mouth, are quite comparable to those at the Falmouth gauge.  Although a comparison between these two sets of data indicate a low net increase in heat absorption along the stream’s course between the two points, it also suggests sources of significant warming upstream in the areas between the Bellaire gauge and the headwaters.

Data from the gauge site on the Little Conewago Creek shows a temperature averaging about five degrees cooler than the gauge several miles downstream on the main stem of the Conewago at Bellaire.  (United States Geological Survey image)

The waters of the Little Conewago are protected within planted riparian buffers and mature woodland along much of their course to the confluence with the Conewago’s main stem just upstream of Bellaire.  This tributary certainly isn’t responsible for raising the temperature of the creek, but is instead probably helping to cool it with what little flow it has.

Juvenile Eastern Blacknose Dace (top) and a juvenile Longnose Dace.
A stream like the Little Conewago Creek with daily temperatures that remain mostly below 80 degrees and retreat to 75 degrees or less during the night can be suitable for coldwater transition fishes like these juvenile Eastern Blacknose Dace (top) and Longnose Dace.

Though mostly passing through natural and planted forest buffers above its confluence with the Little Conewago, the main stem’s critically low baseflow makes it particularly susceptible to heat flux processes that raise stream temperatures in segments within the two or three large agricultural properties where owners have opted not to participate in partnerships to rehabilitate the waterway.  The headwaters area, while largely within Pennsylvania State Game Lands, is interspersed with growing residential communities where potable water is sourced from hundreds of private and community wells—every one of them removing groundwater and contributing to the diminishing baseflow of the creek.  Some of that water is discharged into the stream after treatment at the two municipal sewer plants in the upper Conewago.  This effluent can become quite warm during processing and may have significant thermal impact when the stream is at a reduced rate of flow.  A sizeable headwaters lake is seasonally flooded for recreation in Mount Gretna.  Such lakes can function as effective mid-day collectors of solar (shortwave) radiation that both warms the water and expedites atmospheric exchange.

The Conewago Creek (East) Watershed from the Bellaire U.S.G.S. Gauging Station (lower left) upstream to the headwaters in Mount Gretna.  (United States Geological Survey image)

Though Conewago Creek (East) is classified as a trout-stocked fishery in its upper reaches in Lebanon County, its low baseflow and susceptibility to warming render it inhospitable to these coldwater fishes by late-spring/early summer.

River Chub
Despite being considered a warmwater fish, the River Chub (Nocomis micropogon) will ascend streams like the Conewago to seek cooler, gravel-bottomed waters for spawning.  Reduced baseflow has probably rendered the stream currently too small for this species on Pennsylvania State Game Lands in Colebrook where this specimen was photographed in 2018.
Juvenile Golden Shiner
The Golden Shiner, another warmwater fish, often ascends streams to enter cooler water. Juvenile Golden Shiners like this one will move into shallower headwaters not only to seek reduced temperatures, but to escape large predatory fishes as well.
Irrigation using stream water.
Irrigation of agricultural fields using a large portion of the already diminished baseflow in the Conewago Creek (East) just downstream of the Bellaire gauging station.  Despite millions of dollars in investment to rehabilitate this Susquehanna valley stream, the riparian buffers and other practices can have little effect when the creek gets sucked down to just a trickle.  Low baseflow is a hard nut to crack.  It’s best prevented, not corrected.
Hammer Creek, a trout-stocked fishery, originates, in part, within Triassic conglomerate in the Furnace Hills of Lebanon County, then flows north into the limestone Lebanon Valley where it picks up significant flow from other tributaries before working its way south back through the Furnace Hills into the limestone farmlands of Lancaster County.  From there the stream merges with the Cocalico Creek, then the Conestoga River, and at last the Susquehanna.  Note the tremendous daily temperature oscillations on this headwaters stream as it surges about 15 degrees each day before recovering back close to groundwater temperature by sunrise the next day.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Headwaters of Hammer Creek including Buffalo Springs, a significant source of cold groundwater feeding the western leg of the stream.  The large dams on this section that created the Lebanon and Rexmont Reservoirs have been removed.  (United States Geological Survey base image)

The removal of two water supply dams on the headwaters of Hammer Creek at Rexmont eliminated a large source of temperature fluctuation on the waterway, but did little to address the stream’s exposure to radiant and convective heat flux processes as it meanders largely unprotected out of the forest cover of Pennsylvania State Game Lands and through high-intensity farmlands in the Lebanon Valley.  Moderating the temperature to a large degree is the influx of karst water from Buffalo Springs, located about two miles upstream from this gauging station, and other limestone springs that feed tributaries which enter the Hammer from the east and north.  Despite the cold water, the impact of the stream’s nearly total exposure to radiative and other warming heat flux processes can readily be seen in the graphic.  Though still a coldwater fishery by temperature standards, it is rather obvious that rapid heating and other forms of impairment await these waters as they continue flowing through segments with few best management practices in place for mitigating pollutants.  By the time Hammer Creek passes back through the Furnace Hills and Pennsylvania State Game Lands, it is leaning toward classification as a coolwater fishery with significant accumulations of sediment and nutrients.  But this creek has a lot going for it—mainly, sources of cold water.  A core group of enthusiastic landowners could begin implementing the best management practices and undertaking the necessary water quality improvement projects that could turn this stream around and make it a coldwater treasure.  An organized effort is currently underway to do just that.  Visit Trout Unlimited’s Don Fritchey Chapter and Donegal Chapter to learn more.  Better yet, join them as a volunteer or cooperating landowner!

Male Creek Chub
The male Creek Chub, one of our coolwater fishes, develops head tubercles and becomes flushed with color during spawning season.  Hammer Creek not only provides a home for the Creek Chub, its cold headwaters provide refuge for a population of native Brook Trout too.
Like no other example we’ve looked at so far, this closeup of the Hammer Creek graphic shows temperature bumps correlating with the stormwater runoff from early August’s rains.  Because the stream flow is small and the precipitation rate was not as great at this location, the effect of heat flux from runoff is more readily apparent.  (United States Geological Survey image)
Brook Trout adult and juvenile.  (United States Fish and Wildlife Service image by Ryan Hagerty)

For coldwater fishes, the thousands of years since the most recent glacial maximum have seen their range slowly contract from nearly the entirety of the once much larger Susquehanna watershed to the headwaters of only our most pristine streams.  Through no fault of their own, they had the misfortune of bad timing—humans arrived and found coldwater streams and the groundwater that feeds them to their liking.  Some of the later arrivals even built their houses right on top of the best-flowing springs.  Today, populations of these fishes in the region we presently call the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed are seriously disconnected and the prospect for survival of these species here is not good.  Stream rehabilitation, groundwater management, and better civil planning and land/water stewardship are the only way coldwater fishes, and very possibly coolwater fishes as well, will survive.  For some streams like Hammer Creek, it’s not too late to make spectacular things happen.  It mostly requires a cadre of citizens, local government, project specialists, and especially stakeholders to step up and be willing to remain focused upon project goals so that the many years of work required to turn a failing stream around can lead to success.

Riparian Buffer
Riparian buffers with fences to exclude livestock can immediately begin improving water quality.  With establishment of such vegetative buffers, the effects of stressors that otherwise eliminate coldwater and coolwater fishes from these segments will begin to diminish.
Riparian Buffer
Within five to ten years, a riparian buffer planted with native trees is not only helping to reduce nutrient and sediment loads in the stream, it is also shielding the waters from heat flux processes including the solar (shortwave) radiation that raises water temperatures to levels not tolerated by coldwater and coolwater fishes.
Riparian Buffer
A well-established riparian buffer.
Forested Stream
A forested stream.

You’re probably glad this look at heat flux processes in streams has at last come to an end.  That’s good, because we’ve got a lot of work to do.

Add one more benefit to the wildflower meadow, it infiltrates stormwater to recharge the aquifer much better than mowed grass.  And another related plus, it reduces runoff and its thermal pollution.  Besides, you don’t have time to mow grass, because we have work to do!
Potomac Sculpin
Our native coldwater fishes including the Potomac Sculpin will survive only if we protect and expand the scattered few habitats where they have taken refuge.  They have no choice but to live in these seriously threatened places, but we do.  So let’s give ’em some space.  How ’bout it?  (United States Fish and Wildlife Service image by Ryan Hagerty)

Want Healthy Floodplains and Streams? Want Clean Water? Then Make Room for the Beaver

I’m worried about the beaver.  Here’s why.

Imagine a network of brooks and rivulets meandering through a mosaic of shrubby, sometimes boggy, marshland, purifying water and absorbing high volumes of flow during storm events.  This was a typical low-gradient stream in the valleys of the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed in the days prior to the arrival of the trans-Atlantic human migrant.  Then, a frenzy of trapping, tree chopping, mill building, and stream channelization accompanied the east to west waves of settlement across the region.  The first casualty: the indispensable lowlands manager, the North American Beaver (Castor canadensis).

Beaver Traps
Nineteenth-century beaver traps on display in the collection of the State Museum of Pennsylvania in Harrisburg.  Soon after their arrival, Trans-Atlantic migrants (Europeans) established trade ties to the trans-Beringia migrants (“Indians”) already living in the lower Susquehanna valley and recruited them to cull the then-abundant North American Beavers.  By the early 1700s, beaver populations (as well as numbers of other “game” animals) were seriously depleted, prompting the Conoy, the last of the trans-Beringia migrants to reside on the lower Susquehanna, to disperse.  The traps pictured here are samples of the types which were subsequently used by the European settlers to eventually extirpate the North American Beaver from the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed during the 1800s.

Without the widespread presence of beavers, stream ecology quickly collapsed.  Pristine waterways were all at once gone, as were many of their floral and faunal inhabitants.  It was a streams-to-sewers saga completed in just one generation.  So, if we really want to restore our creeks and rivers, maybe we need to give the North American Beaver some space and respect.  After all, we as a species have yet to build an environmentally friendly dam and have yet to fully restore a wetland to its natural state.  The beaver is nature’s irreplaceable silt deposition engineer and could be called the 007 of wetland construction—doomed upon discovery, it must do its work without being noticed, but nobody does it better.

North American Beaver diorama on display in the State Museum of Pennsylvania in Harrisburg.
North American Beaver diorama on display in the State Museum of Pennsylvania in Harrisburg.  Beavers were reintroduced to the Susquehanna watershed during the second half of the twentieth century.
A beaver dam on a small stream in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.
A beaver dam and pond on a small stream in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.
Floodplain Wetlands Managed by North American Beavers
Beaver dams not only create ponds, they also maintain shallow water levels in adjacent areas of the floodplain creating highly-functional wetlands that grow the native plants used by the beaver for food.  These ecosystems absorb nutrients and sediments.  Prior to the arrival of humans, they created some of the only openings in the vast forests and maintained essential habitat for hundreds of species of plants as well as animals including fish, amphibians, reptiles, and birds.  Without the beaver, many of these species could not, and in their absence did not, exist here.
The beaver lodge provides shelter from the elements and predators for a family of North American Beavers.
Their newly constructed lodge provides shelter from the elements and from predators for a family of North American Beavers.
Sandhill Cranes Visit a Beaver-managed Floodplain in the lower Susquehanna valley
Floodplains managed by North American Beavers can provide opportunities for the recovery of the uncommon, rare, and extirpated species that once inhabited the network of streamside wetlands that stretched for hundreds of miles along the waterways of the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.
Great Blue Heron
A wintering Great Blue Heron is attracted to a beaver pond by the abundance of fish in the rivulets that meander through its attached wetlands.
Sora Rail in Beaver Pond
Beaver Ponds and their attached wetlands provide nesting habitat for uncommon birds like this Sora rail.
Wood Duck feeding on Lesser Duckweed in Beaver Pond
Lesser Duckweed grows in abundance in beaver ponds and Wood Ducks are particularly fond of it during their nesting cycle.
Sandhill Cranes feeding among Woolgrass in a Beaver Pond
Beaver dams maintain areas of wet soil along the margins of the pond where plants like Woolgrass sequester nutrients and contain runoff while providing habitat for animals ranging in size from tiny insects to these rare visitors, a pair of Sandhill Cranes (Antigone canadensis).
Sandhill Cranes feeding among Woolgrass in a floodplain maintained by North American Beavers.
Sandhill Cranes feeding among Woolgrass in a floodplain maintained by North American Beavers.

Few landowners are receptive to the arrival of North American Beavers as guests or neighbors.  This is indeed unfortunate.  Upon discovery, beavers, like wolves, coyotes, sharks, spiders, snakes, and so many other animals, evoke an irrational negative response from the majority of people.  This too is quite unfortunate, and foolish.

North American Beavers spend their lives and construct their dams, ponds, and lodges exclusively within floodplains—lands that are going to flood.  Their existence should create no conflict with the day to day business of human beings.  But humans can’t resist encroachment into beaver territory.  Because they lack any basic understanding of floodplain function, people look at these indispensable lowlands as something that must be eliminated in the name of progress.  They’ll fill them with soil, stone, rock, asphalt, concrete, and all kinds of debris.  You name it, they’ll dump it.  It’s an ill-fated effort to eliminate these vital areas and the high waters that occasionally inundate them.  Having the audacity to believe that the threat of flooding has been mitigated, buildings and poorly engineered roads and bridges are constructed in these “reclaimed lands”.  Much of the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed has now been subjected to over three hundred years-worth of these “improvements” within spaces that are and will remain—floodplains.  Face it folks, they’re going to flood, no matter what we do to try to stop it.  And as a matter of fact, the more junk we put into them, the more we displace flood waters into areas that otherwise would not have been impacted!  It’s absolute madness.

By now we should know that floodplains are going to flood.  And by now we should know that the impacts of flooding are costly where poor municipal planning and negligent civil engineering have been the norm for decades and decades.  So aren’t we tired of hearing the endless squawking that goes on every time we get more than an inch of rain?  Imagine the difference it would make if we backed out and turned over just one quarter or, better yet, one half of the mileage along streams in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed to North American Beavers.  No more mowing, plowing, grazing, dumping, paving, spraying, or building—just leave it to the beavers.  Think of the improvements they would make to floodplain function, water quality, and much-needed wildlife habitat.  Could you do it?  Could you overcome the typical emotional response to beavers arriving on your property and instead of issuing a death warrant, welcome them as the talented engineers they are?  I’ll bet you could.

Photo of the Day

Wildflower Meadow Project underway at East Donegal Riverfront Park
Here’s something to look forward to in the new year.  The good citizens of East Donegal Township in Lancaster County have partnered with Alliance for the Chesapeake Bay to establish an extensive wildflower meadow on what had been a mowed field of turf grass at Riverside Park in the Susquehanna floodplain near Marietta.  As the photo shows, the lawn plants have been eliminated in preparation for seeding with a diverse assortment of native grasses and wildflowers to provide habitat for birds and pollinators including butterflies, bees, and other insects.  Once established, the meadow’s extensive vegetative growth will help reduce stormwater runoff by better infiltrating rainfall to recharge the aquifer.  During flood events, the plantings will provide soil stabilization and increase the ability of the acreage to uptake nutrients, thus reducing the negative impact of major storms on the quality of water in the river and in Chesapeake Bay.  Check the project’s progress by stopping by from time to time in 2024!

A Visit to a Beaver Pond

To pass the afternoon, we sat quietly along the edge of a pond created recently by North American Beavers (Castor canadensis).  They first constructed their dam on this small stream about five years ago.  Since then, a flourishing wetland has become established.  Have a look.

A Beaver Pond
Vegetation surrounding the inundated floodplain helps sequester nutrients and sediments to purify the water while also providing excellent wildlife habitat.
A beaver lodge.
The beaver lodge was built among shrubs growing in shallow water in the middle of the pond.
Woolgrass in a beaver pond.
Woolgrass (Scirpus cyperinus) is a bulrush that thrives as an emergent and as a terrestrial plant in moist soils bordering the pond.
A male Common Whitetail dragonfly keeping watch over his territory.
A male Common Whitetail dragonfly keeping watch over his territory.
A Twelve-spotted Skimmer perched on Soft Rush.
A Twelve-spotted Skimmer perched on Soft Rush.
A Blue Dasher dragonfly seizing a Fall Field Cricket (Gryllus pennsylvanicus).
A Blue Dasher dragonfly seizing a Fall Field Cricket (Gryllus pennsylvanicus).
A Spicebush Swallowtail visiting Cardinal Flower.
A Spicebush Swallowtail visiting a Cardinal Flower.
Green Heron
A Green Heron looking for small fish, crayfish, frogs, and tadpoles.
A Green Heron stalks potential prey.
The Green Heron stalking potential prey.
A Wood Duck feeding on Lesser Duckweed.
A Wood Duck feeding on the tiny floating plant known as Lesser Duckweed (Lemna minor).
A Least Sandpiper feeding along the muddy edge of a beaver pond.
A Least Sandpiper poking at small invertebrates along the muddy edge of the beaver pond.
Solitary Sandpiper
A Solitary Sandpiper.
A Solitary Sandpiper testing the waters for proper feeding depth.
A Solitary Sandpiper testing the waters for proper feeding depth.
Pectoral Sandpiper
A Pectoral Sandpiper searches for its next morsel of sustenance.
A Sora rail in a beaver pond.
The Sora (Porzana carolina) is a seldom seen rail of marshlands including those created by North American Beavers.  Common Cattails, sedges, and rushes provide these chicken-shaped wetland birds with nesting and loafing cover.

Isn’t that amazing?  North American Beavers build and maintain what human engineers struggle to master—dams and ponds that reduce pollution, allow fish passage, and support self-sustaining ecosystems.  Want to clean up the streams and floodplains of your local watershed?  Let the beavers do the job!

The Value of Water

Are you worried about your well running dry this summer?  Are you wondering if your public water supply is going to implement use restrictions in coming months?  If we do suddenly enter a wet spell again, are you concerned about losing valuable rainfall to flooding?  A sensible person should be curious about these issues, but here in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, we tend to take for granted the water we use on a daily basis.

This Wednesday, June 7,  you can learn more about the numerous measures we can take, both individually and as a community, to recharge our aquifers while at the same time improving water quality and wildlife habitat in and around our streams and rivers.  From 5:30 to 8:00 P.M., the Chiques Creek Watershed Alliance will be hosting its annual Watershed Expo at the Manheim Farm Show grounds adjacent to the Manheim Central High School in Lancaster County.  According to the organization’s web page, more than twenty organizations will be there with displays featuring conservation, aquatic wildlife, stream restoration, Honey Bees, and much more.  There will be games and custom-made fish-print t-shirts for the youngsters, plus music to relax by for those a little older.  Look for rain barrel painting and a rain barrel giveaway.  And you’ll like this—admission and ice cream are free.  Vendors including food trucks will be onsite preparing fare for sale.

And there’s much more.

To help recharge groundwater supplies, you can learn how to infiltrate stormwater from your downspouts, parking area, or driveway…

Urban Runoff
Does your local stream flood every time there’s a downpour, then sometimes dry up during the heat of summer?  Has this problem gotten worse over the years?  If so, you may be in big trouble during a drought.  Loss of base flow in a stream or river is a sure sign of depleted groundwater levels in at least a portion of its drainage basin.  Landowners, both public and private, in such a watershed need to start infiltrating stormwater into the ground instead of allowing it to become surface runoff.
Rain Garden Model
You can direct the stormwater from your downspout, parking area, or driveway into a rain garden to help recharge the aquifer that supplies your private or public well and nearby natural springs.  Displays including this model provided by Rapho Township show you how.

…there will be a tour of a comprehensive stream and floodplain rehabilitation project in Manheim Memorial Park adjacent to the fair grounds…

Legacy Sediments
Have you seen banks like these on your local stream?  On waterways throughout the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, mill dams have trapped accumulations of sediments that eroded from farm fields prior to the implementation of soil conservation practices.  These legacy sediments channelize creeks and disconnect them from their now buried floodplains.  During storms, water that would have been absorbed by the floodplain is now displaced into areas of higher ground not historically inundated by a similar event.
Adjacent to the Manheim Farm Show grounds, the Chiques Creek Stream Restoration Project in Manheim Memorial Park has reconnected the waterway to its historic floodplain by removing a dam and the legacy sediments that accumulated behind it.
Legacy Sediments Removed
Chiques Creek in Manheim following removal of hundreds of truck loads of legacy sediments.  High water can again be absorbed by the wetlands and riparian forest of the floodplain surrounding this segment of stream.  There are no incised banks creating an unnatural channel or crumbling away to pollute downstream waters with nutrients and sediment.  Projects similar to this are critical to improving water quality in both the Susquehanna River and Chesapeake Bay.  Closer to home, they can help municipalities meet their stormwater management (MS4) requirements.
Bank-full Bench
Mark Metzler of Rettew Associates guides a tour of the Chiques Creek rehabilitation.  Here, cross vanes, stone structures that provide grade control along the stream’s course, were installed to gently steer the center of the channel away from existing structures.   Cross vanes manipulate the velocity of the creek’s flow across its breadth to dissipate potentially erosive energy and more precisely direct the deposition of gravel and sediment.

…and a highlight of the evening will be using an electrofishing apparatus to collect a sample of the fish now populating the rehabilitated segment of stream…

Electrofishing
Matt Kofroth, Lancaster County Conservation District Watershed Specialist, operates a backpack electrofishing apparatus while the netting crew prepares to capture the temporarily stunned specimens.  The catch is then brought to shore for identification and counting.

…so don’t miss it.  We can hardly wait to see you there!

The 2023 Watershed Expo is part of Lancaster Conservancy Water Week.

Forty Years Ago in the Lower Rio Grande Valley: Day Seven


Back in late May of 1983, four members of the Lancaster County Bird Club—Russ Markert, Harold Morrrin, Steve Santner, and your editor—embarked on an energetic trip to find, observe, and photograph birds in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.  What follows is a daily account of that two-week-long expedition.  Notes logged by Markert some four decades ago are quoted in italics.  The images are scans of 35 mm color slide photographs taken along the way by your editor.


DAY SEVEN—May 27, 1983

“Bentsen State Park”

“6 A.M. alarm rang.  After breakfast we walked an hour or more.  At 8:15 we phoned Father Tom for more information.  We next went back to Anzalduas County Park in hopes of seeing a Hook-billed Kite.  It is now 11:30 and NO luck.  Steve got his first lifer — Red-billed Pigeon.  We parked on a dirt dike and they went walking.  I took a nap.”

Based on new tips from Father Tom, we had back-tracked east along the Rio Grande to look for Hook-billed Kite, Red-billed Pigeon (Patagioenas flavirostris), and other species before continuing west toward Falcon Dam in coming days.  The pigeon was yet another specialty with a range that extends north from Central America into the subtropical riparian forests of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.

Anzalduas County Park is located along the Rio Grande at the Anzalduas Diversion Dam, part of a network of flood control projects initiated in the 1930s to reign in the “untamed river”.  Construction on this particular dam began in 1956 and was completed in 1960.  Operation of diversion and flood control dams on the Rio Grande has functionally eliminated stream meander along its present course, thus the delta that is the Lower Rio Grande Valley will cease to experience the morphological changes that create wetlands, resacas, and other natural features in the floodplain.  Thought to be excellent ideas at the time, most of these projects were based on a blurred vision of the connection between streams, their floodplains, and the watershed’s aquifer.  This condition has manifested itself as a blindness to the finite nature of water supplies, particular where consumption rates are still sharply rising while groundwater recharge is diminishing.

Anzalduas Diversion Dam and Interior Floodway System
The Anzalduas Diversion Dam redirects water from the Rio Grande to supply an irrigation canal on the Mexico side of the river.  In addition, the Anzalduas Reservoir supplies domestic water for Reynosa, Matamoros, and other towns south of the border.  To control flooding on the river downstream, a spillway on the north side of the reservoir created by the dam diverts high water into a seventy-mile-long dike-lined interior floodway that discharges the excess flow into the Gulf of Mexico.  A portion of the floodway utilizes the channel of the Arroyo Colorado through the Harlingen area.  On the map, irrigated lands are shaded green and urban space is yellow.  (International Boundary Water Commission-United States Section base image)

In addition to the Red-billed Pigeon, we found Brown-headed Cowbirds at Anzalduas County Park.  Flying over the adjacent reservoir/river there were Caspian Terns.  We identified some turtles too—Red-eared Sliders.

Back in 1983, we saw very few people in any of the parks or refuges along the Rio Grande.  From atop the flood control levee, I photographed this lone rider having a look around the interior floodway adjacent to Anzalduas County Park.  Today, this area is at times bustling with border patrol activity that includes the use of armored vehicles and mounted officers.  Shallow waters on the downstream side of the dam provide a busy crossing point for migrants and smugglers and the park itself was used as a migrant camp during the SARS-CoV-2 outbreak.  Border barrier design follows the levee as well as parts of the interior floodway itself.  As a result, many of these parks and refuges will be bisected or left entirely on the south side of the wall, a “no man’s land ” between it and the river.

“After my nap, I took pictures of the place and of the men coming back.  Then to the McAllen Sewage Ponds where we had some luck — Eared Grebe and others.”

The McAllen Sewage Ponds were like a little oasis for waterbirds.  Though not a specialty of the Lower Rio Grande Valley, the Eared Grebe (Podiceps nigricollis) was a western species we were happy to have seen.  A Gulf Coast species, Mottled Duck (Anas fulvigula), was another welcome find.  Other sightings included Least Grebe, 100 Ruddy Ducks, Northern Shoveler, Mallard, Black-bellied Whistling Duck, American Coot, Common Gallinule, Spotted Sandpiper, White-faced Ibis (Plegadis chihi), Black-necked Stilt, Franklin’s Gull, Least Tern (Sternula antillarum), Scissor-tailed Flycatcher, Great-tailed Grackle, and Bronzed Cowbird.

Swimming around in the McAllen Sewage Ponds was a Nutria (Myocastor coypus), also known as the Coypu, a mammal resembling a giant muskrat—remember, things really are bigger in Texas.

“Next to the Time Out  Camp Ground to check with a couple I met in February.  They had moved, their space was empty.  Back to Bentsen State Park.  On the way we bought a watermelon for supper’s dessert.  Rain almost all P.M.  Raining now 8:00 P.M.  Before supper we checked again for the Tropical Parula with no luck.  The watermelon was very good for dessert.”

Details received this morning from Father Tom suggested we check the area of the Bentsen Rio Grande Valley State Park campground near a large Spanish Moss-draped tree for the nesting Tropical Parulas.  I don’t recall what kind of tree it was, but the paved road circled the area surrounding it indicating that those who had designed the campground had purposely preserved this massive specimen as something unique.  Despite its prominence, no sights or sounds of the Tropical Parulas were found.  We reached the conclusion that we were a little late; they were gone for the year.  To soothe our sorrows, we ate watermelon—very refreshing!

Forty Years Ago in the Lower Rio Grande Valley: Day Four


Back in late May of 1983, four members of the Lancaster County Bird Club—Russ Markert, Harold Morrrin, Steve Santner, and your editor—embarked on an energetic trip to find, observe, and photograph birds in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.  What follows is a daily account of that two-week-long expedition.  Notes logged by Markert some four decades ago are quoted in italics.  The images are scans of 35 mm color slide photographs taken along the way by your editor.


DAY FOUR—May 24, 1983

“AOK Campground—South of Kingsville, Texas”

“Arose at 6:30 A.M. to the tune of Common Nighthawks.  After breakfast, we headed for Harlingen.  While driving south we saw six pairs of Black-bellied Whistling Ducks.  At Harlingen we phoned Father Tom, who is an expert birder for the area.”

As we drove south to Harlingen, much our 100-mile route was through the Laureles division of the King Ranch, the largest ranch in the United States.  It covers over 800,000 acres and is larger than the state of Rhode Island.  The road there was as straight as an arrow with wire fences on both sides and scrubland as far as the eye could see.  Things really are bigger in Texas.

Once in Harlingen, we did two things no one needs to do anymore:

      1.   Find a coin-operated telephone to place a call to Father Tom.
      2.   Ask Father Tom for the latest tips on the locations of rare and/or target birds.

Today, nearly everyone traveling such distances to find birds is carrying a cellular phone and many can use theirs to access internet sites and databases such as eBird to get current sighting information.  Back in 1983, Father Tom Pincelli was a dear friend to birders visiting the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  Few places had a person who was willing to answer the phone and field inquiries regarding the latest whereabouts of this or that bird.  To remain current, he also had to religiously (forgive me for the pun) collect sighting information from the observers with whom he had contact.  For locations elsewhere across the country, a birder in 1983 was happy just to have a phone number for a hotline with a tape-recorded message listing the unusual sightings for its covered region.  If you were lucky, the volunteer logging the sightings would be able to update the tape once a week.  For those who dialed his number, Father Tom provided an exceptionally personal experience.

Since 1983, Father Tom Pincelli, also known as “Father Bird”, has tirelessly promoted birding and conservation throughout the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  His efforts have included hosting a P.B.S. television program and writing columns for local newspapers.  He has been instrumental in developing the annual Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival.  The public sentiment he has generated for the birding paradise that is the Lower Rio Grande Valley has helped facilitate the acquisition and/or protection of many key parcels of land in the region.

“After receiving information on locations of Tropical Parula, Ferruginous Pygmy Owl, Hook-billed Kite, Brown Jay, and Clay-colored Robin, we went on to check out the Brownsville Airport where we will meet Harold and Steve Thursday noon.”

If we were going to see these five species in the American Birding Association listing area, then we would have to see them in the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  All five were target birds for each of us, including Harold who had few other possibilities for new species on the trip.  Father Tom provided us with tips for finding each.

I noticed as we began moving around Harlingen and Brownsville that Russ was swiftly getting his bearings—he had been here before and was starting to remember where things were.  His ability to navigate his way around allowed us to keep moving and see a lot in a short time.

In Harlingen, we easily found Mourning Doves and the non-native Rock Pigeons, species we see regularly in Pennsylvania.  We became more enthusiastic about doves and pigeons soon after when we saw the first of the several other species native to south Texas, the diminutive Inca Dove (Columbina inca), also known as the Mexican Dove.

“Next, to the Brownsville Dump to see the White-necked Ravens — Then to Mrs. Benn’s in Brownsville for the Buff-bellied Hummingbird.  Both lifers for Larry.”

For birders wanting to see a White-necked Raven in the Lower Rio Grande Valley, the Brownsville Dump was the place to go.  With very little effort—excluding a trip of nearly 2,000 miles to get there—we found them.  Today, birders still go to the Brownsville Dump to find White-necked Ravens, though the dump is now called the Brownsville Landfill and the bird is known as the Chihuahuan Raven (Corvus cryptoleucus).

Mrs. Benn’s home was in a verdant residential neighborhood in Brownsville.  She welcomed birders to come and see the Buff-bellied Hummingbirds that visited her feeder filled with sugar water.  I don’t recall whether or not she kept a guest book for visitors to sign, but if she did, it would have included hundreds—maybe thousands—of names of people from all over North America who came to her garden to get a look at a Buff-bellied Hummingbird.  After arriving, we waited a short time and sure enough, we watched a Buff-bellied Hummingbird (Amazilia yucatanensis) sipping Mrs. Benn’s home-brewed nectar from her glass feeder.  This emerald hummingbird is primarily a Mexican species with a breeding range that extends north into the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.  When not breeding, a few will wander north and east along the Gulf Coastal Plain as far as Florida.

Other finds at Mrs Benn’s included White-winged Dove (Zenaida asiatica), Ash-throated Flycatcher (Myiarchus cinerascens), Brown-crested Flycatcher (Myiarchus tyrannulus), and Black-crested Titmouse (Baeolophus atricristatus), a species also known as Mexican Titmouse.

White-winged Dove
We identified this White-winged Dove at Mrs. Benn’s house in Brownsville.
Green Anole
In Mrs. Benn’s lush subtropical garden beneath a canopy of tall trees we found this male Green Anole (Anolis carolinensis) displaying its red throat patch.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

The Lower Rio Grande Valley from Rio Grande City east to the Gulf of Mexico is actually the river’s outflow delta.  At least six historic channels have been delineated in Texas on the north side of the river’s present-day course.  An equal number may exist south of the border in Mexico.  Hundreds of oxbow lakes known as “resacas” mark the paths of the former channels through the delta.  Many resacas are the centerpieces of parks, wildlife refuges, and housing developments.  Still others are barely detectable after being buried in silt deposits left by the meandering river.  Channelization, land disturbances related to agriculture, and a boom in urbanization throughout the valley have disconnected many of the most recently formed resacas from the river’s floodplain, preventing them from absorbing the impact of high-water events.  These alterations to natural morphology can severely aggravate flooding and water pollution problems.

The Lower Rio Grande Valley
The Lower Rio Grande Valley is the site of a boom in urbanization.  Undeveloped private holdings and government lands including numerous parks and refuges provide sanctuary for some of the valley’s unique wildlife.  The parcels colored dark blue on the map are units of the Lower Rio Grande Valley National Wildlife Refuge.  (United States Fish and Wildlife Service base image)

“On to Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.  We walked to Pintail Lake and saw 6 Black-bellied Whistling Ducks and 2 Mississippi Kites and 1 Pied-billed Grebe.  We drove the route thru the park with great results—Anhingas, Least Grebe, and more Black-bellied Whistling Ducks.

Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge on the Rio Grande is not only a birder’s mecca, 300 species of butterflies have been identified there.  That’s half the species known to occur in the United States!  Its subtropical riparian forest and resaca lakes provide habitat for hundreds of migratory and resident bird species including many Central and South American species that reach the northern limit of their range in the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  Two endangered cats occur in the park—the Ocelot (Leopardus pardalis) and the Jaguarundi  (Herpailurus yagouaroundi).

Ocelot
In the Lower Rio Grande Valley, the secretive Ocelot, like the Jaguarundi, is at the northern limit of its eastern range. Time will tell how urban development including construction of the border wall will impact the distribution and survival of these and other terrestrial species there.  (A modern digital image)
Jaguarundi
Jaguarundi.  (United States Fish and Wildlife Service image)

We saw no cats at Santa Ana, but did quite well with the birds.  Our list included the species listed above plus Cattle Egret (Bubulcus ibis); Louisiana Heron, now known as Tricolored Heron (Egretta tricolor); Plain Chachalacas; Purple Gallinule; Common Gallinule (Gallinula galeata); American Coot; Killdeer; Greater Yellowlegs; the coastal Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla); and its close relative of the central flyway and continental interior, the Franklin’s Gull (Leucophaeus pipixcan).  Others finds were White-winged Dove, Mourning Dove, Inca Dove, Yellow-billed Cuckoo, Golden-fronted Woodpecker, Ladder-backed Woodpecker (Dryobates scalaris), Brown-crested Flycatcher, Altamira Oriole, Great-tailed Grackle, and House Sparrow.  A real standout was the colorful Green Jay (Cyanocorax luxosus), yet another tropical Central American species found north only as far as the Lower Rio Grande Valley.

Mississippi Kite
During spring (April-May) and fall (August-September), Mississippi Kites migrate by the thousands through the skies of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  Both Santa Ana and nearby Bentsen-Rio Grande State Park have hosted formal hawk counts in recent years.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Black-necked Stilt
A Black-necked Stilt at Santa Ana N.W.R.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Least Grebe
A Least Grebe (Tachybaptus dominicus) with young in a man-made canal that mimics flooded resaca habitat at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Black-bellied Whistling Ducks at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge
Black-bellied Whistling Ducks take off from a pond at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Altamira Oriole
The spectacular colors of Altamira Orioles (Icterus gularis) dazzled us every time we saw them.  This was my first, seen soon after arriving at Santa Ana N.W.R. where the checklist still had the species listed under its former name, Lichtenstein’s Oriole. The Altamira Oriole ranges north of Mexico only into the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

“We were unlucky not to find a campground at McAllen, so we went on to Bentsen State Park where we got a camp spot.  After a sauerkraut supper, we birded till dark, then showered and wrote up the log.  Very hot today.”

Bentsen-Rio Grande Valley State Park, like the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, is located along the Rio Grande river and features dense subtropical riparian forest that grows in the naturally-deposited silt levees of the floodplain surrounding several lake-like oxbow resacas.  Montezuma Bald Cypress (Taxodium mucronatum) is a native specialty found there but nowhere north of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  During our visit, we marveled at the epiphyte Spanish Moss (Tillandsia usneoides) adorning many of the more massive trees in the park.  Willows lined much of the river shoreline.

Over time, flood control projects such as man-made dams, drainage ditches, and levees have impaired stormwater capture and aquifer recharge in the floodplain.  These alterations to watershed hydrology have resulted in drier soils in many sections of the Lower Rio Grande Valley’s riparian forests.  Where drier conditions persist, xeric (dry soil) scrubland plants are slowly overtaking the moisture-dependent species.  As a result, the park’s woodlands are composed of trees with a variety of microclimatic requirements—Anaqua (Ehretia anacua), Cedar Elm (Ulmus crassifolia), Texas Ebony (Ebenopsis ebano), hackberry, mesquite, Mexican Ash (Fraxinus berlandieriana), retama, and tepeguaje are the principle species.  The park’s subtropical Texas Wild Olive (Cordia boissieri) grows in the wild nowhere north of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.

While a majority of birders visiting Benten-Rio Grande State Park come to see the more tropical specialties of the riparian woods, searching the brushy habitat of the park’s scrubland can afford one the opportunity to see species typical of the southwestern United States and deserts of Mexico.  This scrubland of the Lower Rio Grande Valley is part of the Tamaulipan Mezquital ecoregion, an area of xeric (dry soil) shrublands and deserts that extends northwest from the delta through most of south Texas and into the bordering provinces of northeastern Mexico.

Our campsite was located in prime birding habitat.  We were a short walk away from one of the park’s flooded oxbow resacas and vegetation was thick along the roadsides.  It was no surprise that the place abounded with birds.  An evening stroll yielded Plain Chachalaca, White-winged Dove, Mourning Dove, White-fronted Dove, Golden-fronted Woodpecker, Brown-crested Flycatcher, Green Jay, Altamira Oriole, Great-tailed Grackle, and Bronzed Cowbird (Molothrus aeneus).  At nightfall, we listened to the calls of an Eastern Screech Owl (Megascops asio), Common Nighthawks, and Common Pauraque (Nyctidromus albicollis), a nightjar of Central and South America that nests only as far north as the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  The Common Pauraque is the tropical counterpart of the Eastern Whip-poor-will, a Neotropical migrant that nests in scattered forest locations throughout eastern North America.

A Plain Chachalaca at Bentsen-Rio Grande Valley State Park.
The Plain Chachalaca (Ortalis vetula), a pheasant-like wildfowl of the dense riparian forest and scrubland at Bentsen-Rio Grande Valley State Park.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Plain Chachalacas
Seldom did we see a Plain Chachalaca alone, there were always others nearby.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
White-fronted Dove
Like the chachalacas, this White-fronted Dove was attracted to some birdseed scattered on a big log behind our campsite.  This species is now known as White-tipped Dove (Leptotila verreauxi) and is at the northern tip of its range in the Lower Rio Grande Valley.

I would note that we saw no “snowbirds”—long-term vacationers from the northern states and Canada who fill the park through the cooler months of fall, winter, and spring.  They were gone for the summer.  But for a few other friendly folks, we had the entire campground to ourselves for the duration of our stay.

Photo of the Day

Legacy Sediment Removal and Floodplain Restoration
This stream restoration project is currently underway along a one-mile-long segment of Lancaster Conservancy lands along Conewago Creek.  The mountain of dirt is one of several stockpiles of legacy sediments removed to reestablish the floodplain’s historic geomorphology.  After eroding from cropland during the years prior to soil conservation, legacy sediments accumulated behind mill dams on waterways throughout the lower Susquehanna watershed.  After removal of the dams, creeks were left trapped within the sediment-choked bottomlands, incising steep muddy banks as they cut a new path through the former mill ponds.  Excavating legacy sediments from these sites eliminates creek banks and allows floodwaters to again spill directly into wetlands along the stream course.  With floodplain and wetland functions restored, nutrients are sequestered, high water is infiltrated to recharge aquifers, sediment loads from collapsing banks are eliminated, and much-needed habitat is created for native plants and animals.

To learn more about this project and others, you’ll want to check out the Landstudies website.

Take a Look at My Mussels

At this very moment, your editor is comfortably numb and is, if everything is going according to plans, again having a snake run through the plumbing in his body’s most important muscle.  It thus occurs to him how strange it is that with muscles as run down and faulty as his, people at one time asked him to come speak about and display his marvelous mussels.  And some, believe it or not, actually took interest in such a thing.  If the reader finds this odd, he or she would not be alone.  But the peculiarities don’t stop there.  The reader may find further bewilderment after being informed that the editor’s mussels are now in the collection of a regional museum where they are preserved for study by qualified persons with scientific proclivities.  All of this show and tell was for just one purpose—to raise appreciation and sentiment for our mussels, so that they might be protected.

Click on the “Freshwater Mussels and Clams” tab at the top of this page to see the editor’s mussels, and many others as well.  Then maybe you too will want to flex your muscles for our mussels.  They really do need, and deserve, our help.

We’ll be back soon.

Pick Up and Get Out of the Floodplain

The remnants of Hurricane Ida are on their way to the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.  After making landfall in Louisiana as a category 4 storm, Ida is on track to bring heavy rain to the Mid-Atlantic States beginning tonight.

Tropical Depression Ida moving slowly toward the northeast.   (NOAA/GOES image)

Rainfall totals are anticipated to be sufficient to cause flooding in the lower Susquehanna basin.  As much as six to ten inches of precipitation could fall in parts of the area on Wednesday.

Rainfall forecasts from the National Hurricane Center.  (NOAA/National Hurricane Center image)

Now would be a good time to get all your valuables and junk out of the floodways and floodplains.  Move your cars, trucks, S.U.V.s, trailers, and boats to higher ground.  Clear out the trash cans, playground equipment, picnic tables, and lawn furniture too.  Get it all to higher ground.  Don’t be the slob who uses a flood as a chance to get rid of tires and other rubbish by letting it just wash away.

Vehicles parked atop fill that has been dumped into a stream’s floodplain are in double trouble.  Fill displaces water and exasperates flooding instead of providing refuge from it.  Better move these cars, trucks, and trailers to higher ground, posthaste.

Flooding not only has economic and public safety impacts, it is a source of enormous amounts of pollution.  Chemical spills from inundated homes, businesses, and vehicles combine with nutrient and sediment runoff from eroding fields to create a filthy brown torrent that rushes down stream courses and into the Susquehanna.  Failed and flooded sewage facilities, both municipal and private, not only pollute the water, but give it that foul odor familiar to those who visit the shores of the river after a major storm.  And of course there is the garbage.  The tons and tons of waste that people discard carelessly that, during a flood event, finds its way ever closer to the Susquehanna, then the Chesapeake, and finally the Atlantic.  It’s a disgraceful legacy.

Now is your chance to do something about it.  Go out right now and pick up the trash along the curb, in the street, and on the sidewalk and lawn—before it gets swept into your nearby stormwater inlet or stream.  It’s easy to do, just bend and stoop.  While you’re at it, clean up the driveway and parking lot too.

Secure your trash and pick up litter before it finds its way into the storm sewer system and eventually your local stream.  It’ll take just a minute.
This is how straws and other plastics find their way to the ocean and the marine animals living there, so pick that stuff up!  Did you know that keeping stormwater inlets clean can prevent street flooding and its destructive extension into the cellars of nearby homes and businesses?
There’s another straw.  Pick it and the rest of that junk up now, before the storm.  Don’t wait for your local municipality or the Boy Scouts to do it.  You do it, even if it’s not your trash.

We’ll be checking to see how you did.

And remember, flood plains are for flooding, so get out of the floodplain and stay out.

Get Out of the Floodplain…And Get Your Stuff Out Too!

After threading its way through waves of Saharan dust plumes, Tropical Storm Isaias, or the remnants thereof, is making a run up the eastern seaboard toward the lower Susquehanna watershed.

Isaias formed just off the northernmost tip of the South American continent.  It drifted north in a narrow pocket between two waves of the Saharan dust plume and, on July 30, strengthened to tropical storm status while in the vicinity of Puerto Rico.  (CIRA/NOAA image)
In this image taken on Friday, note the position of the fast-moving dust plume that was to the southeast of Isaias just a day earlier.  With the storm now clear of the dry Saharan air, it strengthens to become Hurricane Isaias.  (CIRA/NOAA image)
On Friday, the National Hurricane Center issues advisors expecting the strengthening Isaias to sweep the Atlantic coasts of Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina as a hurricane with winds of 74 miles per hour or greater.  (NOAA/National Hurricane Center image)
Then on Saturday, Isaias appears to be back in the dirt.  Did the counterclockwise rotation of the atmosphere around Isaias draw in Saharan dust and dry air to weaken the storm?  Whatever the cause, Isaias is downgraded to a strong tropical storm with maximum sustained winds of 70 miles per hour.  (CIRA/NOAA image)
The latest image of Tropical Storm Isaias.  (CIRA/NOAA image)
The latest forecast projects Isaias will briefly reach hurricane status later today before making landfall in South Carolina and again weakening.  (NOAA/National Hurricane Center image)
Tropical Storm Isaias is expected to bring heavy rain to the lower Susquehanna valley and the Cheapeake Bay region tomorrow (Tuesday).  (NOAA/National Hurricane Center image)

Heavy rain and flooding appears likely, particularly east of the Susquehanna.  Now might be a good time to clean up the trash and garbage that could clog nearby storm drains or otherwise find its way into your local waterway.  NOW is the time to get all your stuff out of the floodplain!  The car, the camper, the picnic table, the lawn furniture, the kid’s toys, the soda bottles, the gas cans, the lawn chemicals, the Styrofoam, and all that other junk you’ve piled up.  Get that stuff cleaned up and out of the floodway.  And of course, get you and your pets out of the there too!

Put Up the White Flag

It was a routine occurrence in many communities along tributaries of the lower Susquehanna River during the most recent two months.  The rain falls like it’s never going to stop—inches an hour.  Soon there is flash flooding along creeks and streams.  Roads are quickly inundated.  Inevitably, there are motorists caught in the rising waters and emergency crews are summoned to retrieve the victims.  When the action settles, sets of saw horses are brought to the scene to barricade the road until waters recede.  At certain flood-prone locations, these events are repeated time and again.  The police, fire, and Emergency Medical Services crews seem to visit them during every torrential storm—rain, rescue, rinse, and repeat.

We treat our local streams and creeks like open sewers.  Think about it.  We don’t want rainwater accumulating on our properties.  We pipe it away and grade the field, lawn, and pavement to roll it into the neighbor’s lot or into the street—or directly into the waterway.  It drops upon us as pure water and we instantly pollute it.  It’s a method of diluting all the junk we’ve spread out in its path since the last time it rained.  A thunderstorm is the big flush.  We don’t seem too concerned about the litter, fertilizer, pesticides, motor fluids, and other consumer waste it takes along with it.  Out of sight, out of mind.

Failure to retain and infiltrate stormwater to recharge aquifers can later result in well failures and reduced base flow in streams.  (Conoy Creek’s dry streambed in June, 2007)

Perhaps our lack of respect for streams and creeks is the source of our complete ignorance of the function of floodplains.

Floodplains are formed over time as hydraulic forces erode bedrock and soils surrounding a stream to create adequate space to pass flood waters.  As floodplains mature they become large enough to reduce flood water velocity and erosion energy.  They then function to retain, infiltrate, and evaporate the surplus water from flood events.  Microorganisms, plants, and other life forms found in floodplain wetlands, forests, and grasslands purify the water and break down naturally-occurring organic matter.  Floodplains are the shock-absorber between us and our waterways.  And they’re our largest water treatment facilities.

Why is it then, that whenever a floodplain floods, we seem motivated to do something to fix this error of nature?  Man can’t help himself.  He has a compulsion to fill the floodplain with any contrivance he can come up with.  We dump, pile, fill, pave, pour, form, and build, then build some more.  At some point, someone notices a stream in the midst of our new creation.  Now it’s polluted and whenever it storms, the darn thing floods into our stuff—worse than ever before.  So the project is crowned by another round of dumping, forming, pouring, and building to channelize the stream.  Done!  Now let’s move all our stuff into our new habitable space.

Natural Floodplain- Over a period of hundreds or thousands of years, the stream (dark blue) has established a natural floodplain including wetlands and forest.  In this example, buildings and infrastructure are located outside the zone inundated by high water (light blue) allowing the floodplain to function as an effective water-absorbing buffer.
Impaired Floodplain- Here the natural floodplain has been filled for building (left) and paved for recreation area parking (right).  The stream has been channelized.  Flood water (light blue) displaced by these alterations is likely to inundate areas not previously impacted by similar events.  Additionally, the interference with natural flow will create new erosion points that could seriously damage older infrastructure and properties.

The majority of the towns in the lower Susquehanna valley with streams passing through them have impaired floodplains.  In many, the older sections of the town are built on filled floodplain.  Some new subdivisions highlight streamside lawns as a sales feature—plenty of room for stockpiling your accoutrements of suburban life.  And yes, some new homes are still being built in floodplains.

When high water comes, it drags tons of debris with it.  The limbs, leaves, twigs, and trees are broken down by natural processes over time.  Nature has mechanisms to quickly cope with these organics.  Man’s consumer rubbish is another matter.  As the plant material decays, the embedded man-made items, particularly metals, treated lumber, plastics, Styrofoam, and glass, become more evident as an ever-accumulating “garbage soil” in the natural floodplains downstream of these impaired areas.  With each storm, some of this mess floats away again to move ever closer to Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic.  Are you following me?  That’s our junk from the curb, lawn, highway, or parking lot bobbing around in the world’s oceans.

A shed, mobile home, or house can be inundated or swept away during a flood.  Everything inside (household chemicals, gasoline, fuel oil, pesticides, insulation, all those plastics, etc.) instantly pollutes the water.  Many communities that rely on the Susquehanna River for drinking water are immediately impacted, including Lancaster, PA and Baltimore, MD.  This dumpster was swept away from a parking lot in a floodplain.  It rolled in the current, chipping away at the bridge before spilling the rubbish into the muddy water.  After the flood receded, the dumpster was found a mile downstream.  Its contents are still out there somewhere.
Floodplains along the lower Susquehanna River are blanketed with a layer of flotsam that settles in place as high water recedes.  These fresh piles can be several feet deep and stretch for miles.  Nature decomposes the organic twigs and driftwood to build soil-enriching humus.  However, the plastics and other man-made materials that do not readily decay or do not float away toward the sea during the next flood are incorporated into the alluvium and humus creating a “garbage soil”.  Over time, the action of abrasives in the soil will grind small particles of plastics from the larger pieces.  These tiny plastics can become suspended in the water column each time the river floods.  What will be the long-term impact of this type of pollution?
Anything can be swept away by the powerful hydraulic forces of flowing water.  Large objects like this utility trailer can block passages through bridges and escalate flooding problems.
The cost of removing debris often falls upon local government and is shared by taxpayers.
Here, a junked boat dock is snagged on the crest of the York Haven Dam at Conewago Falls.  Rising water eventually carried it over the dam and into the falls where it broke up.  This and tons of other junk are often removed downstream at the Safe Harbor Dam to prevent damage to turbine equipment.  During periods of high water, the utility hauls debris by the truck-load to the local waste authority for disposal.  For the owners of garbage like this dock, it’s gone and it’s somebody else’s problem now.
Motor vehicles found after floating away from parking areas in floodplains can create a dangerous dilemma for police, fire, and E.M.S. personnel, particularly when no one witnesses the event.  Was someone driving this car or was it vacant when it was swept downstream?  Should crews be put at risk to locate possible victims?

Beginning in 1968, participating municipalities, in exchange for having coverage provided to their qualified residents under the National Flood Insurance Program, were required to adopt and enforce a floodplain management ordinance.  The program was intended to reduce flood damage and provide flood assistance funded with premiums paid by potential victims.  The program now operates with a debt incurred during severe hurricanes.  Occurrences of repetitive damage claims and accusations that the program provides an incentive for rebuilding in floodplains have made the National Flood Insurance Program controversial.

In the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed there are municipalities that still permit new construction in floodplains.  Others are quite proactive at eliminating new construction in flood-prone zones, and some are working to have buildings removed that are subjected to repeated flooding.

Another Wall— Here’s an example of greed by the owner, engineer, and municipality… placing their financial interests first.  The entire floodplain on the north side of this stream was filled, then the wall was erected to contain the material.  A financial institution’s office and parking lot was constructed atop the mound.  This project has channelized the stream and completely displaced half of the floodplain to a height of 15 to 20 feet.  Constructed less than five years ago, the wall failed already and has just been totally reconstructed.  The photo reveals how recent flooding has begun a new erosion regime where energy is focused along the base of the wall.  Impairment of a floodplain to this degree can lead to flooding upstream of the site and erosion damage to neighboring infrastructure including roads and bridges.
The floodplain along this segment of the lower Swatara Creek in Londonderry Township, Dauphin County is free to flood.  Ordinances prohibit new construction here and 14 older houses that repeatedly flooded were purchased, dismantled, and removed using funding from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (F.E.M.A).  A riparian buffer was planted and some wetland restorations were incorporated into stormwater management installations along the local highways.  When the waters of the Swatara rise, the local municipality closes the roads into the floodplain.  Nobody lives or works there anymore, so no one has any reason to enter.  There’s no need to rescue stubborn residents who refused advice to evacuate.  Sightseers can park and stand on the hill behind the barricades and take all the photographs they like.
A new Pennsylvania Turnpike bridge across Swatara Creek features wide passage for the stream below.  Water flowing in the floodplain can pass under the bridge without being channelized toward the path where the stream normally flows in the center.  The black asterisk-shaped floats spin on the poles to help deflect debris away from the bridge piers.  (flood crest on July 26, 2018)
People are curious when a waterway floods and they want to see it for themselves.  Wouldn’t it be wise to anticipate this demand for access by being ready to accommodate these citizens safely?  Isn’t a parking lot, picnic area, or manicured park safer and more usable when overlooking the floodplain as opposed to being located in it?  Wouldn’t it be a more prudent long-term investment, both financially and ecologically, to develop these improvements on higher ground outside of flood zones?
Now would be a good time to stop the new construction and the rebuilding in floodplains.  Aren’t the risks posed to human life, water quality, essential infrastructure, private property, and ecosystems too great to continue?
Isn’t it time to put up the white flag and surrender the floodplains to the floods?  That’s why they’re there.  Floodplains are for flooding.