The River Landing

Red-headed Woodpecker Overwinters within a Central Illinois Black Locust Stand

It is well known that overwintering red-headed woodpeckers (Melanerpes erythrocephalus), a species experiencing a long-term population decline, are drawn to woodlands with abundant hard mast available in the fall, particularly from oak (Quercus spp.) trees. Red-headed woodpeckers store acorns in caches during the fall and defend the caches plus a small surrounding territory throughout the winter months, when they draw upon the mast for sustenance. Because of this close connection with oak woodlands, it seemed worthwhile to document observations of an overwintering red-headed woodpecker defending a territory within a stand of black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) trees in the sand areas of rural Mason County, central Illinois (USA).

        Black locust is native to Illinois, but only in its far southern region; at the same time, it has become well established throughout the state, and except for southern Illinois, is considered an invasive species, and is a target for eradication during habitat improvement projects. The small black locust stand mentioned in this article (< 1.0 acre) is near the northwestern edge of a much larger tract of highly fragmented forest (approximately 400 acres) with black oak (Q. velutina) and hickory (Carya spp.); the surrounding area is mostly agricultural fields with small groups of homes or scattered home sites. Other less dominant tree species within the black locust stand include white mulberry (Morus alba), common hackberry (Celtis occidentalis), Siberian elm (Ulmus pulima), and eastern redcedar (Juniperus virginiana). Small diameter (< 6 inches) snags are plentiful. Beyond the black locust stand is an open field where cold, north winds can blow unimpeded into the red-headed woodpecker’s territory.

        Oak woodlands experiencing mast years (i.e., unusually abundant mast) typically support higher numbers of overwintering red-headed woodpeckers than years with poor mast production. So the numbers of red-headed woodpeckers setting up winter territories in a particular stand of oaks can vary considerably from year to year (see related blog posts listed below). It follows that timber lacking mast trees would be of dubious benefit to overwintering red-headed woodpeckers.

        Because this particular red-headed woodpecker territory lacked immediately available mast to establish a sufficient cache—although travel to nearby mast trees outside of the overwintering territory must have occurred—and the territory can be exposed to the full brunt of weather systems from the north, there was a question of whether the red-headed woodpecker first observed during the fall of 2018 would survive the winter or possibly migrate before winter’s end in search of better habitat. So the presence of this bird was frequently monitored beginning in November 2018. There was a high degree of confidence that the woodpecker seen in the black locust stand on each day of observation was the same individual because overwintering red-headed woodpeckers defend territories rather than roam widely in search of food sources. [Interestingly, when a barred owl (Strix varia) was being mobbed by blue jays (Cyanocitta cristata) and other species within the black locust stand, a second red-headed woodpecker was observed along with the original bird; these two birds were antagonistic toward one another, which suggested that the interaction occurred at a territorial boundary. This second red-headed woodpecker was observed several times throughout the winter, but not as consistently as the original bird.]

        By the third week of March, nearing the vernal equinox, the original red-headed woodpecker was still being observed on its territory. It was not clear if the second red-headed woodpecker was also defending its territory. Once overwintering behavior ceases, red-headed woodpeckers will likely migrate to breeding areas (open upland woods, oak savannas, floodplain forests, riparian areas).

 

Selected References

Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-headed_Woodpecker referenced 14 March 2019.

DeVore, S., S.D. Bailey, and G. Kennedy. 2004. Birds of Illinois. Lone Pine Publishing, Auburn, Washington.

Leopold, D.J., W.C. McComb, and R.N. Muller. 1988. Trees of the central hardwood forests of North America. Timber Press, Portland Oregon.

Walk, J.W., M.P. Ward, T.J. Benson, J.L. Deppe, S.A. Lischka, S.D. Bailey, and J.D. Brawn. 2010. Illinois birds: a century of change. Illinois Natural History Survey Special Publication 31.

 

Related posts on The River Landing blog:

Record Count of Overwintering Red-headed woodpeckers 

Red-headed Woodpecker Count Plummets 

Red-headed Woodpecker Update Winter 2013-2014 

Return of Red-Headed Woodpeckers to Sand Prairie-Scrub Oak Nature Preserve 

The Missing Red-Headed Woodpeckers of Sand Prairie-Scrub Oak Nature Preserve 

Dead Trees, Disturbance, and Illinois' Red-headed Woodpeckers – Side Channels, Chapter 13 

 

By Thomas V. Lerczak, Havana, Illinois

 

 

Recollections of a Man on Skid Row—Chicago, Early 1970s

Recently my wife Julie and I were planning a trip to Lake Michigan’s dune country, about 50 miles across the lake from Chicago.  And as is my habit before such a trip, I’ll make a visit to the plastic cabinet on our front porch, where the miscellany of my life is being stored:  brochures from sites visited long ago, outdated maps, scattered photographs, bits of this and that being saved for obscure reasons.  And during my search for whatever I was looking for, I came upon an envelope crammed with old black-and-white photographs.

        I shuffled through the prints rather quickly, like a deck of cards, and was almost ready to store them away again before seeing each one—as I remembered the photos very well, and knew there would be no surprises—when one rather abruptly grabbed my attention.  It simply showed a man walking on a sidewalk.  Yet the photo brought forth a flood of memories, and pulled me back to that exact day and time over 40 years before.

 

Chicago, Madison Avenue, early 1970s

 

        In those days, my father, who passed on in 2009, often took my brother Bob and me on Sunday drives.  Sometimes it seemed as if we had no particular destination in mind, just being out of our little neighborhood for a while was enough.  Downtown Chicago and the lake front were our favorites.  We once drove through beautiful neighborhoods of what seemed like mansions in the northern suburbs of Kenilworth and Winnetka, to see how the other half lived.  And we drove through Chicago’s western suburbs past new shopping malls, which my father said was how the future would look; and I felt as if we had just traveled through time.  I remember seeing the steel mills of Gary, Indiana, in the 1960s, before, it seemed, much attention had been given to air pollution control:  a sunny day turned somber, dark, and gray; and my father said that this was progress, and called the wetlands and open fields “wasteland.”  On one adventurous trip, just after Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King had been killed, followed by riots with burning inner-city neighborhoods, my father was curious to see the aftermath—what he, a World War II veteran, called a “war zone.”  We traveled down Madison Avenue where the rioting had been the worst; there was no shortage of charred buildings and debris strewn over the streets and sidewalks; yet all seemed peaceful on our Sunday drive, even though tensions must have been tight as a drum.  Though my father seemed oblivious to any danger, he instructed us to shut the car windows and lock the doors.

        A few years later, in a high school photography class, I learned about the different cameras available and how to develop black-and-white film and create prints.  My parents indulged this budding interest by purchasing a small photographic enlarger and allowing me to develop film and prints in the house, which, to my mother’s dismay, involved the use of some rather smelly chemicals.  Soon, from money which I earned through various odd jobs, I bought my first good camera:  a 35 mm, Yashica rangerfinder with adjustable lens, shutterspeed, and focus.  Armed with this new camera, then, I was eager to take pictures of just about anything. 

        Downtown Chicago continued to be a prime choice, but I tended to travel there more by the elevated train system (the “L” train) and buses accompanied by one or two friends.  Though Sunday drives with my father were becoming less frequent as I became older, on one of our last, we ended up, once again, on Madison Avenue.  By that time, about 1972, there had not been rioting for a few years, and the perception was that social disharmonies had improved quite a bit since the late 60s.  Our optimistic world view said that that had to be the case:  things always improved, and progress moved everything forward.  But Madison Avenue was still Skid Row, as it had been known for a long time:  a poor, dangerous, high-crime area with flop houses, junkies, prostitutes, homeless street people, gangs, broken-down buildings, filth, and disease.  Skid Row had not improved, and may actually have gotten worse.  Now, some may say this is a harsh assessment, flavored by the flaws of memory.  Fair enough.  But it is called Skid Row for a reason.

        When our car slowed in the traffic, I noticed a tall man walking quickly, taking big steps, dodging around slower-moving pedestrians.  He stood out in the crowd.  And I cried, “Look at that guy!”  His face had a wild, maniacal expression.  And so I quickly readied my camera over the protests of my father and brother.  When the man was just opposite our vehicle, I snapped the shutter, and we quickly drove onward, back to our world, a world away from his.  I think this was the last time we traveled to Skid Row and one of the last Sunday drives, as my life apparently became busier, and being with friends assumed a greater importance.

        As I now look at the print of this man on Skid Row, I wonder about his story.  How did he end up there?  Was he a penniless alcoholic who had just found enough money for a drink?  Is that why he was in such a hurry?  Or did he just steal something?  Was he a war veteran, who had seen terrible things, and been broken by the experience?  Was he someone’s once beloved husband or father who had fallen on illness and hard times?  Or were the hard times of his own making?  Was he dangerous, and would he have been furious to know that his picture had just been taken?  Should I not have taken his picture?     

        Such questions were not on my mind when I snapped the photo, knowing only that I wished to be as far from this man and his surroundings as possible (yet there he is in a cabinet, in my home, along with special moments from my life).  And I also did not wonder why it was that my father brought his two sons through Skid Row on a Sunday afternoon.  As I recall, my mother also wondered, shaking her head in disbelief at her former husband’s choice for a drive with his sons.  But I believe his reason was to impart a valuable and memorable lesson:  Work hard, get an education, save your money, be honest and kind, stay sober, and you won’t end up here.  Although he never offered an actual word of explanation, his message was loud and clear, then as now.