YOU did remember the Flowers, Right?
As I was scouting the Activity Center area for flowers, I found one particular species abundant, the Dandelion. "The dandelion is not a flower, it's a WEED!," you exclaim. Weed is the term we give to plants we do not like. Gardeners and people that love a perfect lawn HATE dandelions. I am that neighbor that tries to keep a lawn without fertilizers or pesticides, thus I am the neighbor with the yellow lawn. My attempts to be a good neighbor and eradicate the yellow invader have given me a newfound respect for the dandelion.
First there is that bright yellow flower. There is no hiding it. Before you can get back from the store with a bottle of Roundup, your lawn is covered with dandelions. Because dandelion are composite flowers, each bloom will create a great quantity of seeds. Each seed has its own sail, waiting for the slightest breeze (or child with a lungful of air) to send it to your neighbors immaculate lawn. The seed then sprouts into a small plant that lies flat where your lawn mower can't reach it. This when the dandelion anchors its long tap root deep into the earth. No tell tale flower to announce its presence. Just a quiet, unseen cancer making itself a home. With the arrival of spring (or summer for early seedlings) the energy stored in the tap root sends the dandelion on a growth spurt coupled with a reproductive frenzy. So Americans spend their children's college fund to (unsuccessfully) destroy the dandelions. ( A way to recoup the money would be to have said child major in Plant Physiology instead of Psychology.) After spending a fortune on lawn care, your neighbors dandelion seeds blow into your yard to start the cycle again. Or you can just embrace the dandelion as part of the ecosystem we call a lawn.
As one of springs early flowers, the dandelion has become an important source of nectar for our native bees as well as honey bees. Give these beneficial insects a day or two to gather nectar, then pinch the flower heads off. This will slow the spread of the seeds, and make your neighbors more friendly. As for leaves, you can eat the younger ones in your salads. Older leaves are better for the compost pile. If you want to get more aggressive you can dig the roots up. Be careful not to break the tap root as the plant will regenerate from what is left in the ground. The dried roots have in times past been roasted, ground up and used in place of coffee. In fact, just about every part of the dandelion has been used for food and medicine by humans. As an added bonus, the rabbits in my yard prefer dandelions over my vegetable garden. As a garden or lawn plant, the dandelion has a role in bringing nutrients to the surface and needs no watering or fertilizer.
Let's start to moderate our assault on the dandelion and focus our energies on bigger problems, such as Garlic Mustard.
I saw a blue bird, but it wasn't a Bluebird.
Terms can be confusing. When someone says "blue bird" we often think of a Bluebird. "Blue bird" refers to all birds that are blue, including bluebirds. When we write (I don't know how to say it differently) "bluebird" we are referencing Sialia sialis , the Eastern Bluebird.
Bluebirds today are quite common. This was not always the case. As a cavity nester, the bluebird requires dead or damaged trees to make its nest. Bluebirds are a bit picky, they want their homes next to open fields. As agricultural practices changed and we decided we did not want dead trees next to our homes, the bluebird lost its preferred habitat. With reduced habitat, a new, bigger competitor, the European Starling, and things did not look good for the bluebird. Being well liked is what saved the bluebird. People not only like the beautiful birds, they like the fact that the birds eat insects. Birders and farmers both stepped up and made bluebird houses with small entrances that excluded the European Starling.
Let's get back to those non bluebird blue birds. It is actually a long list including Indigo Buntings, Tree Swallows, and Blue Jays. Of these, the blue jay is perhaps the most familiar. The blue jay is best known for following people around the woods yelling, "THIEF, THIEF!" and attacking potential predators such as house cats and birds of prey. Another unendearing quality is stealing (and eating) eggs and young of other birds. But like human bullies, blue jays are actually weak. When captured in a bird bander's net the jays give up. Most birds bite and claw as you try to free them from the net. While being handled, the blue jay is one of the most docile birds, even doing what banders call "the stupid blue jay trick". Once the bird claps its feet, it is in its happy place, and can even be placed on a table with little thought of escape.
All birds that are blue have something in common. They are not blue! There is no blue pigment in their plumage. The color comes from the way light reflects off of their feathers. This called structural color. If you were to hold a blue feather up to the light, it would appear gray, as the light is passing through the feather, not reflecting off of it.
Yes, red birds are Red!
I think it is safe to say that spring is finally arriving. A walk along the foot path at Dexter-Huron Metropark reveals a carpet of Trout Lilies. This flower is named for its leaves that some say look like a trout. Others would disagree, and say it is because they bloom during the start of trout season. I can accept both explanations, but must point out that they often do not bloom any season. Most of the Trout Lilies will have one leaf sticking out of the ground. These are the immature plants and may take several years before they flower. The flowering Trout Lilies will have two long thin leaves on either side of its small flower. Every night the flower closes; perhaps because it is too cold for the insects that assist with pollination services. The Trout Lily is what we call a spring ephemeral. We only see it in spring before the trees get their leaves. Once shaded by their larger neighbors, the lilies disappear until next spring. They are still in the forest, they just exist as a bulb under ground, until next spring when the light reaches them again. This short growing season is why it takes several years for the Trout Lily to reach maturity.
If you miss the Trout Lilies there is still lots of reasons to visit the Metroparks. It is just the start of a season of flowers. Already the May Apples are pressing themselves through the leaves on the forest floor. Plan on a few new blooms of something every week. This will get you to September ending with Closed Gentian and the aptly named Late Goldenrod.
Please remember to leave the flowers growing where you found them, some take years to reach the flowering stage, it would be a shame to cut them down in the prime of their lives.
Turtles, Turtles (almost) everywhere!
On Wednesday April 17 a group of Homeschool students discovered a snapping turtle crossing the playground. As it is still a bit early for egg laying, the question was, "why is out of the water?" Since the turtle was not in the mood to answer our questions, we turned to Turtles of the United States and Canada by Ernst, Lovich and Barbour. Turtles have two problems in winter, Freezing to death and getting enough oxygen. A good way to avoid freezing is to bury ones self in warm mud full of decaying material. That might keep you from freezing. Unfortunately, this kind of mud is low in oxygen. Even though turtles have lungs like you and I, they also get some of their oxygen from the water. To avoid low oxygen mud and freezing water, they will often migrate in the fall to small streams with undercut banks. The water coming out of the springs is warmer than the surface water, and the undercut banks gives them a space to stick their heads out of the water and breathe occasionally. Our snapping turtle was most likely migrating back to the large pond to the west of the Activity Center. If it was a male, it will spend spring and summer eating tadpoles, birds hatchlings, and anything else it finds swimming in the marsh. A female snapping turtle will make a second appearance on land in early summer to deposit her eggs.
We have also been receiving reports of very small painted turtles crossing the bike path. While it is way too early for the hatchlings of 2013 to be out (the eggs haven't been deposited yet) some of the 20012 turtles may be on the move. If painted turtles hatch late in the year, they will often stay in the ground where they hatched. When winter arrives the painted turtles, now about the size of a Quarter, will freeze. These hatchling are freeze tolerant. About 2/3 of the water in their bodies will turn to ice. (Kids, Don't try this at home!) The secret is that only the water between the cells freezes, leaving the cells undamaged. If the water in the cell freezes (about -8 degrees Celsius) then the turtle will not make it to spring. The painted turtles hatchlings that we are seeing are probably from eggs that were deposited last summer.
Salamander Migration 2013!
On Thursday April 11 29 hearty souls joined Park Interpreter Mark Irish in search of migrating salamanders. Unfortunately, the salamanders did not get the memo, and failed to show up. We were able find one red-backed salamander hiding under a log. The red-backs are not known to spawn in ponds and this one was not one of the salamanders we were looking for. The main salamander pond was occupied by one lonely sounding chorus frog, who like us, was not notified that 36 degrees was just too cold for any self-respecting amphibian to be out looking for a mate.
The main question of the night was "What now?". As we are already late, it is possible that we might not see a mass migration, and may just have a trickle as the weather warms up. We will keep our eyes open. If you would like to search on your own, keep in mind that Hudson Mills closes at 10:00pm this time of the year.
Come on out to Hudson Mills Metropark, our wildlife wants to meet you!
Well we have been watching our vernal ponds and it looks like Thursday, March 15 will be our best chance to witness the salamander migration here at Hudson Mills Metropark.
Thursday, March 15 Salamander Migration 8 pm
Join us to witness the salamander migration. This fascinating event only happens for a short amount of time in the spring. Meet at Oak Meadows parking lot where we will then walk to the ponds. $3/child and $5/adult cash/check only.
Photo by Eddie Sanchez
Hudson Mills Metropark is “Going Green”
As you entered Hudson Mills Metropark have you asked yourself either of these questions? “Where did they go? Where do I put my trash?” Well, as you may have noticed we removed all of the trash cans out of the parking lots at the beginning of the year. This is the first phase that Hudson Mills is “Going Green”.
We are reducing the amount of trash cans to limit the amount of emissions emitted from our garbage truck. We had close to twenty trash cans spread throughout our parking lots; iIn one lot alone we had over twelve. We have moved these cans to a more centralized area.
During second phase we will be adding recycling stations throughout the park for plastic, aluminum and trash. These will be clearly labeled and located in high use areas.
We apologize if this has caused you an inconvenience, but we are trying to make the park a healthier, greener place to be. Please support us in our efforts and we welcome suggestions that you may have. On www.metroparks.com you can read more about our sustainability efforts and tips for “Greener living”.
This blog entry is written by a volunteer, Ken Gurney at Hudson Mills Metropark.
My significant other is fond of saying that if it's going to be cold, we might as well have snow. I have to say I agree. Like a fresh coat of paint, it instantly changes the landscape. It sticks to trees, mounds in drifts, and covers my path.
photo by Ken Gurney
It seems to change the way everything sounds. Sure, when the temp and moisture is right is squeaks or crunches or sloshes. But other sounds are different too. The stubborn leaves still clinging in bunches to just a few trees rustle when they sway, and even that sounds clearer, more distinct. The distant honks of geese are sharp.
As I strolled through our fair Hudson Mills today, I trekked along a cross-country ski trail.
photo by Ken Gurney
WAY back in the 80s or 90s, I was turned off to cross-country skiing by one of those mid-mall salespeople (no, correct that, “drill sergeant”) who was certain my figure could be helped with a brand new Nordic Track. After a cartoon-like disaster proving I could not move in the directions the machine wanted, I was not convinced I should own one of these. I plodded away, tail between legs, with only the conclusion that I had to the cross-country skiing “action” was yet another physical endeavor for which I was not built, at least from a coordination perspective. But in the intervening years, I have come to love cross-country skiing as yet another mode through which I can be in my favorite place: in and among nature. It's intimate—quiet, peaceful, unobtrusive. And I can more easily cover more ground when snow and ice make passage a little more difficult. And the trees, the snow, and the animals don't seem to judge my finesse (or lack thereof).
Today, I happened upon a gaggle of Canada geese in the Huron River. They were “parked” still as the trees, against the far bank of the river, like a bunch of jets stopping at the terminal for fuel before taking off for balmier locales south. I grinned, as I thought about how cold I was getting and how they must feel with their rear ends, legs, and feet in the frigid (indeed, freezing) river. How can they do that?!
photo by Ken Gurney
Back on the trail, I looked down at the tracks. I noticed dog prints of all sizes, and pictured hounds bounding along with their masters, who were no doubt pleased at the prospect of their hyper animal calming down when back indoors, at least for a little while, thanks to the release of energy on an outside run. I also noticed the ski tracks and was reminded of watching Winter Olympics where the ultra-precise cross-country skiers manage to exactly follow the tracks laid before them in order to maximize efficiency. While the trails today at Hudson Mills were somewhat less symmetrical, it was evident that many of those who passed this way had done two things: they benefited from those who went before and they further smoothed the tracks for those who would come next.
Nature is like this for me: it reminds me that there is harmony around us and among us. The evening commute, like the evening news, seems to be full of messages about the discord in the world, but every time I'm outside taking in nature, I'm comforted by the harmony I see. Lichen growing on the tree, sustenance making its way up the food chain, and seasons refinishing and rebuilding the whole natural world.
And just like that, all those skiers work together to pack that trail so we can each make it a little farther and a little faster in that natural world.
A Colorful Palette
Color plays an important role in our daily lives. Certain colors evoke emotional reactions such as urgency or calm. Pre-schoolers associate red with stop and green with go. We “feel blue” and “see red.” Our natural environment, too, makes use of color in many ways. We associate green, a predominant natural color in Michigan’s out-of-doors with the very movement intended to protect our natural resources. One aspect in the survival of the fittest is camouflage. The long-tailed weasel’s fur is brown in the summer and changes to white in the winter. What appears to us as the eye-catching, high-contrast zebra stripes actually helps protect them. The word chameleon is synonymous in our language with changing to meet one’s surroundings, whether in appearance or behavior.
As fall fades to winter the palette of nature changes significantly. Particularly here in Michigan, nature wows us with a grand finale of autumn brilliance. Ho-hum green chlorophyll exits stage left and leaves us with a dazzling array of fiery orange, bright yellow and intense crimson. The color overshadows much around us, distracting us from the deep blue sky and blanketing fading green lawns. The corn stands in fields as it withers, dries, and browns. The fields are turned and plowed under. Eventually, the leaves are gone from the trees. Days get shorter, and in Michigan, the number of cloudy days seems to double.
But in fading sun, and without the competition of the lush summer or brilliant fall, color persists. Much like when your eyes adjust to a dim or dark room, new images appear. I was drawn to some of these on a recent stroll around our fair Hudson Mills. A different palette emerged to me. I notice differences in the hue of the grey-brown bark among standing trees, and much variety in the color and texture of the fallen and decaying wood. Lichen and moss then jumped right out at me. Some lush, soft green mats of life remained. And the bright white fungi, drawing moisture and nourishment from trees living and dead, clung like little fairy steps to the bark.
Moss photo by Ken Gurney
Moss photo by Ken Gurney
And the birds—oh the birds! Gone are the geese, sure, and let’s move past the cardinals, blue-jays, and robins. Have you spotted a downy woodpecker, an eastern bluebird, or a black-capped chickadee? Downy woodpeckers eat insects from the same downed and decaying trees upon which the moss and lichen grow. Adult males have a red spot on their heads whereas females do not. Their checked black-and-white back will catch your eye. So, too, will many bluebirds with their bright, almost tropical colors. So, even in the midst of the graying, winter forest, you wouldn’t have to look far for the stark black and white plumage of the downy, the red spot on the males, or the bright green moss.
Male downy woodpecker
Have a good look around the next time you are strolling through Hudson Mills—there is life and color all around, all year round. It is constantly alive and continually changing.
This blog entry is written by a volunteer at Hudson Mills Metropark.
This photo of a young Black Bear was taken down the street from Hudson Mills Metropark. We finally have confirmation of one bear; however the person who took this photo said they saw an adult nearby but this is still unconfirmed.
The Washtenaw County Sheriff's department in conjunction with the DNR are going to be putting out a press release soon. When we have this I will post it here; so stay tuned for more updates.
From a naturalist's point of view it is exciting to think that Black Bear are adapting and moving southward. However, we are not sure where this bear came from so please do not get caught up in the "bear frenzy." Having a Black Bear in the area will certainly not keep me and my family from enjoying Hudson Mills Metropark and the surrounding area.
posted on 6/12/11
Something for Everyone
On Saturday, June 11, the reports came into our park office; unusual sightings seen along the West River Trail. Two different people saw something that was once common in the area until the early to mid 1800's. According to one witness who was jogging, a Black Bear was reported to be minding his own business looking up a tree. A third witness said they saw a Black Bear in their yard where it had climbed up a tree. Despite the parks efforts the staff was unable to view the bear. Where did this Black Bear come from and why did it want to come to Hudson Mills Metropark?
Well, the second question is obvious, who wouldn't want to come here? This is such a beautiful park full of wonderful opportunities. Maybe the Black Bear was looking for wonderful opportunities as well. It is in late June and early July when Black Bear mate. Little does he know we do not have Black Bear in the park so he or she may have its heart broken.
However, Black Bear will find their favorite food here which includes insects, carrion, fruit and acorns. Bears like to stay within a home range for most of year, leaving it in the fall only if they are forced to find better sources of food. The size of their home range varies from 5-15 miles in diameter; males can have three times larger home ranges than females.
So, that brings us the first question, where did he come from? Could this be the same bear seen in 2008 near Manchester and Waterloo Recreational Area? If this is a male bear it would put it in its home range. Could this be a small northern male bear looking to claim territory for his own? I guess these questions are going unanswered for the moment.
Hudson Mills Metropark has something for everyone no matter if you are here for the day, like the Black Bear or come throughout the year jogging on the trails.
photo NOT taken at Hudson Mills Metropark -stock photo from internet
posted on 2/13/11
The Sap is Running!
Are you ready for spring? A sure sign of spring is when the sap is running. Today I tapped several sugar maple trees and the sap is dripping out of the spiles. We are getting ready for our maple sugaring programs and collecting sap to boil down into pure delicious maple syrup. Join us on weekends starting Feb. 26 through March 27 for ajourney to the sugar bush.
If you would like to make your own maple syrup at home we have maple syrup starter kits available for purchase.
posted on 7/24/10
The Sandhill Crane and Cottontail
This sandhill crane and eastern cottontail are enjoying the summer evening. When the temperatures are cooler the local wildlife will become active. Animals will start to find food and in the case of the sandhill crane and cottontail they will graze in the shade.
When the sun is high in the sky and temperatures are at their hottest, wildlife will tend to seek shelter and rest. If you want to view wildlife the best times are early morning or early evening. As we have discussed before, you never know what you will see here at Hudson Mills Metropark.
photo by Dave Sprinkle
posted on 5/28/10
Within the past week people at Hudson Mills Metropark have had some close encounters with the local wildlife. On a recent bird hike the group was meet by this Great Horned Owlet. While this photo was taken the adults were being mobbed by American Crows; a typical behavior of crows that tell the rest of the woods a predator is in the area. This juvenile was sitting very close to the trail's edge. See the picture below for scale.
A White-tailed deer fawn was spotted along the Acorn Nature Trail. This fawn stayed curled up trying to blend in to the forest floor. While you are here on a walk, you never know what or where you will find wildllife. Many animals can be seen right at a trail's edge.
Great Horned Owl photo by Che Huang
Karen Markey and Great Horned Owl photo by Che Huang
White-tailed Deer photo by Jennifer Hollenbeck
Migrating and Nesting Birds
It's that time of year again for many birds to be migrating to their nesting grounds. Many have returned to Hudson Mills and will nest within the park limits. Here are just a few "must see" birds that will nest in the park: Scarlet Tanagers, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Indigo Buntings, and Pileated Woodpeckers.
We also have quite a few migrants moving through including Nashville Warbler, Blackburnian Warbler, Black-throated Green Warlber, and many more. If you want to see any of these neotropical birds take a walk through the old field habitat near the river. Join us the first Saturday of the month for a bird hike, sign up through the park office.
Nashville Warbler photo by Lloyd Spitalnik
Okay, so the calendar isn’t quite there yet and more snowfall is predicted to be on the way. But the changing of the seasons is kind of a blurry matter for Nature and spring-like things can start happening well before the equinox. Have you noticed any of them recently?
Phenology is the study of life cycles and their seasonal happenings. (Not to be confused with phrenology, which is the study of lumps and bumps on peoples’ heads and that’s an entirely different blog.) Phenology is how we know when to expect the buzzards [turkey vultures] to return to Hinckley, Ohio [March 15th] or, more generally, when to start listening for the yearly return of the red-winged blackbirds. The timing of these changes can vary slightly each year but for the most part it's steered by circadian rhythms. Circadian means “about a day” so, in other words, day length has as much to do with spring occurrences as the calendar and the weather.
Coming Soon: displaying male red-winged blackbirds (photo by Kevin Cole)
Nature is influenced by longer days. This explains the spring things you might’ve noticed lately. Have you heard the mourning doves, cardinals, titmice and bluebirds earnestly singing their songs, especially first thing in the morning? The ‘boys’ do the singing and they obviously suspect that the breeding season is almost here. Have you smelled more skunks lately? Their unmistakable wafting odors and the numerous tracks left in the snow mean that these black & white fellows are suffering from wanderlust with the same thoughts as the birds. Have you noticed that the buds on the top branches of some trees are much larger than they were earlier this winter? Those are flower buds, not leaves, and they swell in preparation for blooming. This is a sure sign that spring flowers are not far away.
Tracks left by a skunk recently wandering Hudson Mills Metropark
Have you observed anything else? They may also be indicators of the changing season. For instance, spiders have started to show up inside my house again. Every day I notice one or two and I hadn’t really seen any since the fall. I’m not sure if this is a spring thing, but, just in case, I think I’ll make a note of it on my calendar. This way I’ll remember to look for them next year. Then the spiders will cheer me when I’ve decided I’m sick of winter. It might not be 70° and sunny tomorrow, but noticing these little things can be a reminder that spring is truly just around the corner.
A long-legged sac spider or a harbinger of spring?
Fun with Hawks
Depending on the time of year (and who you ask) there are 27 different raptor species to be found in Michigan. If you are a purist and don’t count owls or vultures as raptors, then there’s 16. But a raptor is a bird of prey and any way you look at it, a hawk is a raptor. By far and away, the most common hawk to be seen in Michigan is the Red-tailed Hawk. Its scientific name, Buteo jamaicensis, tells you how common it is elsewhere- ‘jamaicensis’ comes from the name Jamaica and the red-tailed hawk is obviously cosmopolitan enough to have been seen and named in the Caribbean 300 years ago.
Where and whenever they were seen first, winter in Michigan is a terrific time to try spotting these hawks. It doesn’t take much skill: branches barren of leaves and the red-tailed hawk’s habit of perching near roads make ‘hawk-spotting’ an easy game. It’s so easy it’s my particular favourite to pass the time in the passenger seat riding on the freeway.
Red-tailed hawks like to be couch potatoes. While they fly well and do hunt for food on the move, red-tails seem very happy to spend no more energy than it takes to move their heads. Their eyesight, like all raptors, is fantastic. From 100 feet up they can spot the movement of a vole or mouse in the grass and snow. Think of it like you or I spotting a Twinkie from a tenth floor window. With this kind of skill it makes sense to just sit and watch for your next meal. And trees aren’t their only perches. Utility poles, electric towers and highway lights do just as well. Height doesn’t necessarily matter either. I’ve seen red-tails sitting on top of metal bars jutting maybe five feet out of the ground in the highway median.
The key to hawk-spotting on your next car ride is first, put down your I-phone, Blackberry or other electronic distraction and look out the window! Next, key in to blobby shapes in the trees and silhouetted against the sky. Sometimes the blobs are squirrel dreys- big leafy nests that squirrels made back in the summer. If they are turned toward you, the pale chest of the red-tailed hawk will give them away as birds and not leaf balls. Red-tails are big hawks, larger than crows and most other Michigan birds. Individual red-tailed hawks can be a variety of shades, but in general, they have white chests and darkly streaky bellies. Only the adults have the namesake red tail feathers, but, unless the light is shining just right you’re probably not going to make out tail color.
That’s all there is to it. Try it once and I suspect that you may be surprised by the number of hawks you will see. And at any rate, it beats the license plate game any day.
I got this red-tail from my car in the park today. Can you see him?
A zoom of the same hawk. Sometimes they watch you back!
Winter seems like such a hushed season compared to all the rest. No rustling leaves. No singing frogs, birds or insects. Add a layer of snow and any sound there may be is muffled to a library-like whisper. Living as I do halfway between the big city and the open country, I appreciate the silencing effect of a good snowstorm. Maybe then it's the quiet of everything else that makes a handful of birds seem so loud.
On a recent snow track search at the park, my fellow walkers and I were distracted by the signs of cottontail activity when it suddenly occurred to us that a small flock of birds was perched overhead. They had probably been in the trees before we had even reached the spot, but they were so quiet that their constant calls weren't noticeable at first. Twenty feet up in the black cherry trees was a group of cedar waxwings. "Tseee! Tsee!" To their companions, they were probably nearly screaming but to our less attentive ears they had been invisible. We watched the flock for a few minutes and the buzzy calls they were making seemed to get louder. Some of the birds even made themselves more noticeable by darting out from a branch and then flying back to the group. While we enjoyed seeing these not-so-uncommon birds and their behavior, it was how they affected the rest of the walk that I think I appreciated the most.
It occurred to me that a winter day at first may seem silent, sterile, even life-less. Especially compared to the noise of our own lives. But it becomes full of life and activity when you stop to listen to the sounds the rest of the year hides from notice. I recommend you get out and try it.
Having had my hearing tuned by the waxwings, everybody began to seem noisy. I heard the soft chuckling call of a foraging nuthatch. "Chip..... Chip!" -the sound of two cardinals trying to keep track of each other in the shrubs. I could even make out the scratching sound of a downy woodpecker's claws on tree bark, followed by the soft hammer as he pecked out a morsel of food.
female Northern Cardinal
male Northern Cardinal
male Downy Woodpecker