Last week Arb Naturalists had the pleasure of walking Spring Creek in search of river mussels.  If you've only ever encountered the sea dwelling mussels found on your local menu, you might consider taking to the rivers in search of these magnificent creatures.  It might surprise you but these animals have some adaptations as innovative as some of our own.

Last week, Arb Manager Matt Elbert found a rare Wood Turtle basking on a sandbar in the Lower Arb. These reclusive turtles are observed only once or twice each year in the Arb and are considered a “threatened” species in Minnesota. As its scientific name, Glyptemys insculpta, implies, Wood Turtles have ornately patterned shells that resemble wooden engravings and distinguish them from the more common Painted Turtles also found in the Arb.

Mreakkk mreakkk. If you wander near Kettle Hole Marsh, it is nearly impossible to avoid the enveloping the racket of the chorus frogs. The western chorus frog is the smallest frog species in Minnesota, but you wouldn’t know that from their boisterous noise-making! They aren’t the only frogs in the Arb, there are gray tree frogs, Cope’s grey tree frogs, bullfrogs, green frogs, and the northern leopard frogs.

While running, jogging, or walking through the pine plantation in the northern tip of the arb, one might not realize the obstacle it poses to restoration. Covering 30 acres, the dense pine forest holds quite a bit of wood. The pines aren’t native to this part of Minnesota. They occupy land that should bear oak forests or prairie. They shade out native plants, they spread pine trees to neighboring savannas, and prevent managers from balancing these nearby plots with prescribed burns. They’re also starting to die. As the pine population slowly turns to a stand of dry snags the risk of them snapping in a windstorm increases, making upkeep more time consuming and costly. In short it's time for the pines to go.

All non-freshman will remember the abomination that was last year’s springtermnospring.  This spring term has been far more comfortable, with temperatures over the last month averaging fifteen degrees warmer than during the same time period of 2011.  Swimming in the Cannon, barbequing, disc golf, and half-heartedly doing homework on the bald spot are worthy fair weather pursuits, but if you want to have some real fun, go for a walk in the Arb and enjoy looking at some spring ephemerals.

Nearly every morning and evening during April and May, the Arb plays host to an elaborate spectacle as the American Woodcock performs its annual rendition of the “sky dance.”  With stubby legs, a plump body and a long, unwieldy bill that is used to probe the soil for worms, this clumsy-looking bird hardly looks the part of a celebrated dancer.  Nevertheless, when trying to attract a mate, male woodcocks put on quite a show.

Winter often brings with it to the arboretum a sense of calm, stillness, and tranquility.  The snow has fallen, the trees lay bare, and often the only noticeable sound is the wind whipping over the frosted prairies.  The frequent chirping of birds is absent as the prairie longs for their song.  But even in its silence the arboretum is deceiving.  After all, not all birds fly south.

Have you ever stood in the prairie in the Lower Arb and imagined that you were seeing the land before European settlement, that it stretched in all directions, and that if you walked over the next hill, you might see a herd of bison?

Two weeks ago, when the Arb naturalists were joined by retired Arb Manager Myles Bakke for a winter turkey-tracking outing, I also, for the first time, bore witness to some remodeling undertaken by a family of beavers. 

Not everyone thinks of it while walking or jogging through the Arb, but managing 880 acres of restored land takes a lot of dedicated work.  Each Fall and Spring 40 students are employed by the Arb, and the work they do covers just about everything. 

The closest encounter I’d had with a turkey in recent memory was at lunch, sandwiched between two pieces of wheat bread and a slice of cheddar cheese. I was startled, then, to see one (covered in brown feathers as opposed to cheese) observing me from afar as I slid past on my skies one cold evening in the Arb.

Last Friday evening, Campus Security noticed a somewhat unusual visitor outside of the library sitting in one of the trees between the Bald Spot and the Library.