Coming down from the sandhill

In several of these columns, I've described events happening "up on the sandhill we call home."

From the threatened Blandings turtle crossing through the yard, to the screetch owl in the rafters of the barn, to the adventure of cutting a wasp nest out of a tree in the llama pasture, a lot of nature happened on that sandy hill outside of Hortonville.

But we no longer call the sandhill home.

Plans for a four-lane highway bypass across the road, running through the farm field where I counted cranes, watched tom turkeys in full display and saw deer gather by the dozens in the evening, was not something we cared to hang around to witness. That and thoughts of growing older in a two-story house with the maintenance of an oak woods sent us looking for a new place in the country.

Wolf hunt grey areas addressed

By David Horst  sandhill7@gmail.com 

Not many people are neutral on Wisconsin’s wolf hunt. They represent nature free and wild to you. Or they are a threat to be feared by you.

What if you owned livestock in an area where wolves roam? What if your cultural traditions held them to be sacred?

These and other points of view will be explored fully at a program on Wisconsin’s wolves 7 p.m. Friday, Sept. 13, at Mosquito Hill Nature Center, N3880 Rogers Rd., New London. It is a chance to harden your position on wolves or better understand the other side of the issue.

Tornado reshapes the woods

By David Horst   sandhill7@gmail.com

Destruction came to visit up on the sand hill we call home.

We were in the path of the f2 tornado that bounced through the Hortonville area. The roar of the wind about 1 a.m. was so loud, sleep was not possible. I went to the bedroom window and saw trees battered by such force that they seemed to be gripping the ground with their roots to hold on.

I thought to myself, we're going to lose a few trees. There was no siren and the forecast said nothing about severe weather. The storm passed so quickly, it seemed like damage would be minimal. A walk of our land Wednesday morning showed that couldn't have been further from reality.

Osprey nests a platform for mystery

By David Horst  sandhill7@gmail.com
View a slideshow

Pat Fisher is concerned about ospreys. Actually, she cares about all large birds, but this year ospreys have her very concerned.

Baby ospreys are disappearing from their nests.

An osprey chick is prepared to be weighed.

The New London bird rehabilitator tracks osprey reproduction in Waupaca, Outagamie and part of Winnebago counties. She counts how many young are in each nest, checks their general health and bands their legs for future tracking.

That’s what we were doing recently when I tagged along with Fisher and her crew and two guys from We Energies with a bucket truck.

Ospreys are bigger than a crow, smaller than an eagle. They are mostly white underneath but the tops of their wings are brown. A substantial brown stripe swooshes across each eye. To identify them in the air, look for wings that are slightly arched.