Pretty pictures…
































We’ll have more on the Western Cattle Egrets and other interesting migrants at Middle Creek in an upcoming post. Check back soon!

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
































We’ll have more on the Western Cattle Egrets and other interesting migrants at Middle Creek in an upcoming post. Check back soon!
If you’ve visited Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area anytime during the past month, you may have noticed quite a bit of activity around the large pole-mounted nest boxes placed out in the open fields.








LEARN HOW LAND MANAGERS UTILIZE PRESCRIBED FIRE
This coming Saturday, April 18, 2026, beginning at 10 A.M. (rain date April 25), the Pennsylvania Game Commission is hosting a “Prescribed Fire Festival” at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area. Be certain to come out to the visitor’s center at 100 Museum Road, Stevens, PA, for this event. Land managers will be there to answer questions and to explain the planning and preparations involved in overseeing a prescribed burn. There will be guided walks of habitats preserved using fire of varying intensities. You’ll see the equipment and protective clothing used by certified personnel to administer a live prescribed fire burn right before your eyes. Then you can have lunch—food trucks will be available on site.

After the burn demonstration, why not go for a walk or drive around the refuge. You can take note of how grassland and early successional plant communities are responding to previous doses of prescribed fire…


And how the grassland animals respond as well…








The fate of an avian predator such as a kestrel lies at the mercy of the fate of its quarry. Because, you see, the sun’s energy, after being converted to chemical energy by photosynthesizing plants, flows upward through the trophic levels of the food chain—herbivores (primary consumers) such as rodents and insects to carnivores (secondary and tertiary consumers) including kestrels. Grasslands, when abundant and diverse, are correspondingly abundant and diverse with small mammals and insects and will therefore support thriving populations of American Kestrels and other predators. These secondary and sometimes tertiary consumers fulfill a role in cultivating healthier populations of their prey—the primary and secondary consumers in the food web—as a balanced component of a flourishing grassland ecosystem. Sparse and fragmented grasslands, on the other hand, beget negligible small mammal and insect populations, are stricken with broken food webs, and champion few if any American Kestrels or other predators. If the land it occupies is neat, tidy, manicured, exploited, or sprayed sterile and dead, the energy flow cycle of the ecosystem is dead as well. There’s nothing animal introductions, reintroductions, rescues, culling, stocking, or harvesting can do about it, because in the end, it’s all about the habitat.
Today’s NOAA/GOES satellite image serves as a little reminder of the big three. That’s right, it’s the three big “natural” disasters—wildfires, inland flooding, and coastal flooding (lucky for us, our region is at present millions of years removed from severe threats posed by the tectonic disasters—earthquakes, volcanoes, and tsunamis—and is not particularly prone to frequent tornadoes). Each continues to cause an increasing volume of property damage and threaten a greater number of lives because of where and how we choose to make our homes and erect our structures.

For all of human existence, the dynamics of the atmosphere have been shaping the topography and the ecosystems of the planet. In recent times, we’ve had the advantage of satellite technologies to show us spectacular images of atmospheric events as they happen. And through the various branches of science, we’ve come to understand the impact these events have upon the landscape and the people who live and/or work there.
Forestry sciences have helped us to understand how natural fuels, humidity, temperature, rainfall, soil moisture, wind, and human encroachment influence the frequency and severity of wildfires. These discoveries have led to changes in forest management and implementation of practices such as prescribed burns to reduce accumulated fuel loads. Because human development typically lowers soil moisture and brings along with it additional sources of ignition, many land managers and fire departments have warned of the ever increasing dangers of wildland-urban interface fires. These warnings have gone largely unheeded for more than four decades as millions of homes and other combustible structures have been erected within areas prone to fires capable of uncontrollable growth into disastrous conflagrations. The tinderbox wildlands—they’re a nice place to visit, but we ought not to live there!
Tropical storms and other sources of heavy precipitation bring about quite the hubbub over flooding. Meteorologists spend a lot of time explaining it all, but it’s almost as if no one pays any mind. For a people who check the weather forecast several times a day, every day of our adult life, just to get a leg up on how that weather is going to change day by day and hour by hour, you would think we would better anticipate the climatic events that happen over the long term. In particular, you would think we would have an awareness of our own individual susceptibility to flooding— a grasp of how, where, and why floods occur. You would think that repeated episodes of flooding would compel society to embrace an ethic that treated water as the valuable commodity it is. Yet, we all seem to follow the same patterns of behavior. First, we drain, dump, pipe, curb, channel, ditch, grade, pave, and pump to get the rain that falls upon our property off of our property. Then, the chump downstream gets really mad that we sent our water his way and flooded him out, so he takes the same measures to send even more water to the next poor slob down the line until finally the now polluted slurry of runoff floods the street, a cellar, a house, a business, or a stream—a stream that has been channelized so it no longer has a floodplain to absorb, hold, purify, and infiltrate the stormwater. Why was the stream channelized? So we could fill in the floodplain and build upon it of course. Two things come to mind here. First, if we’re going to be selfish enough to flood out our neighbors, then why shouldn’t we be totally selfish and keep for ourselves all the water that falls upon our place. After all, we’re going to need that water some day. And second, the floodplain is a nice place to visit, but we ought not to build there. Floodplains are for flooding; thousands of years of erosion have shaped them that way—it’s a gravity thing!
Next, we look at the lessons from geology, more specifically coastal geomorphology. Through these disciplines we know that the coastal plain—the flat land that spent most of the last 35.5 million years (the time since the meteor strike at the present-day mouth of Chesapeake Bay) as a beach or a tidal marsh—today stands mostly less than three dozen feet above sea level. We know that the sands forming barrier islands along the Atlantic seaboard, which are only several feet above sea level, shift their shape and position with the tides. Over the decades and centuries, these islands migrate and compensate for changes in climate and tidal patterns as well as sea levels. Behind their shifting dunes, vast tidal marshes are protected from seasonal storms including the periodic nor’easter or hurricane. Despite the importance of barrier island dynamics to the integrity of the bays and estuaries they protect, and despite their vulnerability to coastal storm surges, winds, and flooding, we choose to build there. In fact, the greatest population densities in the United States, and in many other countries of the world, are on the beach. It’s not because these hundreds of millions of people are fishing or loading/unloading ships for a living—it’s mostly for the view. Despite their importance to fisheries and other coastal life, we continue to alter and destroy the near-tidal areas of the the barrier islands and bays. We go to great expense to “save” for our uses the lands that should be getting inundated by rising sea levels to create new shallow tidewater zones. We waste spectacular amounts of money pumping sand back onto beaches to keep naturally migrating sediments from changing their shape and position in response to the tides. We keep putting more people and more capital at risk by urbanizing these low-lying areas. Building on the beach is absolute madness. It’s an ecological catastrophe from day one and a human catastrophe soon after.
All of the lands impacted by these natural events have two things in common. Each becomes a potential disaster area if people choose to construct their homes or businesses there. And each, if left in its wild state and given a buffer space from human activity, reacts with natural time-derived mechanisms in response to the same events. These mechanisms are often essential for provision of the unique ecosystems required by many of our most threatened wildlife species. Human encroachment into floodplains, wetlands, tidal marshes, beaches, and xeric uplands is a double-edged sword. It first decimates populations of these uncommon species by destroying and fragmenting their specialized habitats. Then, it sets the stage for the fires, floods, and other disasters that endanger the lives and property of the people living there. Considering the ramifications of building in these fire and flood susceptible areas, we can and should live somewhere else, especially when the wildlife requiring these places often can’t.

After repeatedly hearing the songs of these Neotropical migrants from among the foliage, we were finally able to get a look at them—but it required persistent effort.














Sometimes we have to count ourselves lucky if we see just one in five, ten, or even twenty of the birds we hear in the cover of the forest canopy or thicket. But that’s what makes this time of year so rewarding for the dedicated observer. The more time you spend out there, the more you’ll eventually discover. See you afield!


During Saturday’s Prescribed Fire Demonstration at the Pennsylvania Game Commission’s Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area, we noticed just how fast some species of wildlife return to areas subjected to burns administered to maintain grassland habitat and reduce the risk of high-intensity blazes.







Following the Prescribed Fire Demonstration, we decided to pay a visit to some of the parcels where burns had been administered one week earlier on the north side of Middle Creek’s main impoundment. We found a surprising amount of activity.







With relative humidity readings regularly dipping below 50%, the sunny days of March and early April are often some of the driest of the year. During recent weeks, these measurements have plunged to as low as 20%, levels not often observed in our region. As we’ve seen throughout the lower Susquehanna valley, windy weather and this extraordinarily dry air conspire to create optimal conditions for fast-spreading and often dangerous wildland fires.
On the brighter side, dry weather also provides the opportunity for foresters and other land managers to administer prescribed fire. These controlled burns are thoroughly planned to reduce accumulations of wildfire fuels and invigorate understory growth in forests. Their use also provides a number of effective methods for creating and maintaining wildlife habitats in non-forested areas.

This Saturday, March 22, 2025, crews from the Pennsylvania Game Commission will be hosting a Prescribed Fire Demonstration at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area in Lancaster/Lebanon Counties. The event begins at 10:00 AM in the refuge’s museum/visitor’s center parking area. A controlled burn to “reset” a parcel with early successional growth back to grassland will follow a presentation on prescribed fire uses, planning, safety, and implementation.






Don’t forget: Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area museum/visitor’s center parking lot on Saturday, March 22, 2025, at 10:00 AM. See you there!
We’ve seen worse, but this winter has been particularly tough for birds and mammals in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed. Due to the dry conditions of late summer and fall in 2024, the wild food crop of seeds, nuts, berries, and other fare has been less than average. The cold temperatures make insects hard to come by. Let’s have a look at how some of our local generalist and specialist species are faring this winter.





















Wildlife certainly has a tough time making it through the winter in the lower Susquehanna valley. Establishing and/or protecting habitat that includes plenty of year-round cover and sources of food and water can really give generalist species a better chance of survival. But remember, the goal isn’t to create unnatural concentrations of wildlife, it is instead to return the landscape surrounding us into more of a natural state. That’s why we try to use native plants as much as possible. And that’s why we try to attract not only a certain bird, mammal, or other creature, but we try to promote the development of a naturally functioning ecosystem with a food web, a diversity of pollinating plants, pollinating insects, and so on. Through this experience, we stand a better chance of understanding what it takes to graduate to the bigger job at hand—protecting, enhancing, and restoring habitats needed by specialist species. These are efforts worthy of the great resources that are sometimes needed to make them a success. It takes a mindset that goes beyond a focus upon the welfare of each individual animal to instead achieve the discipline to concentrate long-term on the projects and processes necessary to promote the health of the ecosystems within which specialist species live and breed. It sounds easier than it is—the majority of us frequently become distracted.


On the wider scale, it’s of great importance to identify and protect the existing and potential future habitats necessary for the survival of specialist species. And we’re not saying that solely for their benefit. These protection measures should probably include setting aside areas on higher ground that may become the beach intertidal zone or tidal marsh when the existing ones become inundated. And it may mean finally getting out of the wetlands, floodplains, and gullies to let them be the rain-absorbing, storm-buffering, water purifiers they spent millennia becoming. And it may mean it’s time to give up on building stick structures on tinderbox lands, especially hillsides and rocky outcrops with shallow, eroding soils that dry to dust every few years. We need to think ahead and stop living for the view. If you want to enjoy the view from these places, go visit and take plenty of pictures, or a video, that’s always nice—then live somewhere else. Each of these areas includes ecosystems that meet the narrow habitat requirements of many of our specialist species, and we’re building like fools in them. Then we feign victimhood and solicit pity when the calamity strikes: fires, floods, landslides, and washouts—again and again. Wouldn’t it be a whole lot smarter to build somewhere else? It may seem like a lot to do for some specialist animals, but it’s not. Because, you see, we should and can live somewhere else—they can’t.



Back on March 24th, we took a detailed look at the process involved in administering prescribed fire as a tool for managing grassland and early successional habitat. Today we’re going turn back the hands of time to give you a glimpse of how the treated site fared during the five months since the controlled burn. Let’s go back to Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area for a photo tour to see how things have come along…















Elsewhere around the refuge at Middle Creek, prescribed fire and other management techniques are providing high-quality grassland habitat for numerous species of nesting birds…



We hope you enjoyed this short photo tour of grassland management practices. Now, we’d like to leave you with one last set of pictures—a set you may find as interesting as we found them. Each is of a different Eastern Cottontail, a species we found to be particularly common on prescribed fire sites when we took these images in late May. The first two are of the individuals we happened to be able to photograph in areas subjected to fire two months earlier in March. The latter two are of cottontails we happened to photograph elsewhere on the refuge in areas not in proximity to ground treated with a prescribed burn or exposed to accidental fire in recent years.


These first two rabbits are living the good life in a warm-season grass wonderland.


Oh Deer! Oh Deer! These last two rabbits have no clock to track the time; they have only ticks. Better not go for a stroll with them Alice—that’s no wonderland! I know, I know, it’s time to go. See ya later.
The Aphrodite Fritillary (Speyeria aphrodite), also known simply as the Aphrodite, is a brush-footed butterfly of deciduous, coniferous, and mixed forests. We found this female in a grassland margin between woodlots where prescribed fire was administered during the autumn of 2022 to reduce accumulations of natural fuels and an overabundance of invasive vegetation. A goal of the burn was to promote the growth of native species including the violets (Viola species) favored as larval host plants by this and other fritillaries.

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


Here’s a native plant you don’t see very often, but Ruby-throated Hummingbirds have a knack for finding and adoring it within the limited habitat where it still exists.



Not likely to thrive in deep forest cover, Allegheny Vine is a denizen of edge habitat. The species is dependent on some type of disturbance to maintain suitable growing conditions. The plants seen here were found flowering in an area that had experienced a fire prior to last year’s growing season. It is therefore quite possible that the fire completed the stratification process and triggered long-dormant seeds to germinate last spring or summer to develop a basal plant which matured and flowered during this second summer of the biennial’s growth. On a forested slope opposite this site, a first-ever prescribed burn was conducted in March of this year to eliminate accumulated fuel and replicate a natural fire cycle. With a little luck, this forest management approach may prompt additional long-dormant Allegheny Vine seeds to germinate and form basal plants this year for maturation in 2025. Without man-made disturbances, Allegheny Vine may remain viable as a species by enduring seed dormancy periods of 40-100 years or more between fires, lightning strikes, wind storms, ice accumulations, and other events which clear the canopy and encourage growth.


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

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

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

























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

















Prescribed burns aren’t a cure-all for what ails a troubled forest or other ecosystem, but they can be an effective remedy for deficiencies caused by a lack of periodic episodes of naturally occurring fire. They are an important option for modern foresters, wildlife managers, and other conservationists.
With the earth at perihelion (its closest approach to the sun) and with our home star just 27 degrees above the horizon at midday, bright low-angle light offered the perfect opportunity for doing some wildlife photography today. We visited a couple of grasslands managed by the Pennsylvania Game Commission to see what we could find…



















It’s sprayed with herbicides. It’s mowed and mangled. It’s ground to shreds with noisy weed-trimmers. It’s scorned and maligned. It’s been targeted for elimination by some governments because it’s undesirable and “noxious”. And it has that four letter word in its name which dooms the fate of any plant that possesses it. It’s the Common Milkweed, and it’s the center of activity in our garden at this time of year. Yep, we said milk-WEED.
Now, you need to understand that our garden is small—less than 2,500 square feet. There is no lawn, and there will be no lawn. We’ll have nothing to do with the lawn nonsense. Those of you who know us, know that the lawn, or anything that looks like lawn, are through.
Anyway, most of the plants in the garden are native species. There are trees, numerous shrubs, some water features with aquatic plants, and filling the sunny margins is a mix of native grassland plants including Common Milkweed. The unusually wet growing season in 2018 has been very kind to these plants. They are still very green and lush. And the animals that rely on them are having a banner year. Have a look…





We’ve planted a variety of native grassland species to help support the milkweed structurally and to provide a more complete habitat for Monarch butterflies and other native insects. This year, these plants are exceptionally colorful for late-August due to the abundance of rain. The warm season grasses shown below are the four primary species found in the American tall-grass prairies and elsewhere.






There was Monarch activity in the garden today like we’ve never seen before—and it revolved around milkweed and the companion plants.











SOURCES
Eaton, Eric R., and Kenn Kaufman. 2007. Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America. Houghton Mifflin Company. New York.