The water pans and buckets could still be filled by the outdoor hose two weeks ago. Yesterday, we woke to an inch of snow and a wagon full of frozen Hilty Farm pumpkins. Dave and Jane brought their juicy orange produce last week to rave donkey and pig reviews.
Today, snowmelt is pooling in the dry Cranberry Run bed and David Seitz is still removing invasive evergreen Amur honeysuckle from the southeast property line.
The wind is cold and blowing from the southwest open field across road 7L. In the forest, birds and squirrels scold in the calm of the trees. The wind won’t settle but temperatures are to rise. By Saturday’s “National Hiking Day Hike at Night”, temperatures will be in the 50s Fahrenheit as is fairly normal for November in Ohio. Put on good walking shoes, weather-appropriate clothes and join us on the nature preserve trails to enjoy the mental and physical health benefits of hiking.
Over decade ago Cady joined our family. She had been found in an apartment, a bred to pieces and abandoned, her ears cropped close to her head and her beautiful “blue” coat stretched tight over her ribs. My Steven brought her home from the shelter to bond with all of us, most especially Lolly. Both walked in the Welcome Santa parade, left paw prints on the trails and impressions on the couch. Cady smiled and loved every face with kisses.
The worst part of loving Cady came today. But as Steven said, without that we wouldn’t have had all the good. We will miss her and remember.
The space that is our developing prairie habitat used to be called simply “the back field.” A trail heading downhill from Red Fox Cabin, across Cranberry Run, around the quarry, up a hill, and through the woods leads to eleven acres that were tilled until 1985. The tractor path to the field skirted Cranberry Run for a stretch, where it narrowed to inaccessibility due to erosion. Farming the field had to be abandoned. A new direction for The Quarry Farm took shape: to establish a nature preserve with several distinct habitats, including a prairie in the back field.
As seeds and rootstock in the soil sprang up and spread, the field began to look a bit like a grassy prairie. There were some food sources and cover for rabbits and small animals like field mice and voles. They in turn fed predators like great horned owls, red-tailed hawks, and foxes. Seed-eating and insect-loving birds could feed and nest. In early spring, a visitor might be lucky enough to witness a mating American woodcock rise explosively into the dusk.
That early resemblance to a prairie was deceiving though. Too much of the vegetation was non-native (teasel, for example), offering too little support for native birds, insects, and small animals. In no time, the field began to fill up with honey locust, hawthorn, and black walnut seedlings (native, but unwelcome outside the adjacent woods). Multiflora rose and Asian bush honeysuckle invaded. Clearly, if The Quarry Farm was to have the prairie habitat we envisioned, management would be necessary.
Recent years have been a learning process. We’ve tried to find the most efficient, least harmful ways to squelch invasives and non-natives so that we can eventually claim a true prairie habitat with a balanced ecosystem. Consultants have shared their expertise. Wonderful volunteers and skilled hirees have hacked, dug, and bulldozed trees; cleared ground and spread seeds of native prairie plants; and mowed spent growth to encourage the spread of native grasses and wildflowers. The search for best management practices goes on.
We know the work of developing and maintaining a distinct prairie habitat may never be done, but we’ll have the joy of providing the creatures that find a home there the best chance to thrive. And we can share it with visitors like you.
There is one lone cricket singing in the basement this week. The evenings are so cool now that the outdoor chorus have wrapped their bowstrings in scarves of dried grasses. Birds and butterflies are on the move, winging away early this year due to cooler temperatures. There will be no Fall Migration Bird Hike in the nature preserve this year because we missed the boat, or rather, the airship.
The good news is that Birders Deb Weston and David Smith grabbed their tickets in time to walk the trails and see who is passing through on their southern journey. What they found last week is that Monarch Butterflies (and one tired-looking Pearl Crescent Butterfly) were having a restorative back in the grassland prairie.
Pearl Crescent Butterfly
That same day, they documented 29 avian species, with David IDing all but a Great Blue Heron by their birdy vocalizations. Deb had her camera at the ready once David pointed them out.
“Fall migration is completely different than spring. The birds aren’t singing and they don’t look the same,” she said. “For me, they’re in the “shakes head, beats me” category.” In order, juvenile Indigo Bunting, Magnolia Warbler and female American Redstart.
On Monday, the tally increased to 41 species, including short glimpses of 11 warblers. Deb is out there again today. The air is warm enough to remove a sweater now and the droughted grass crackles under foot. The Quarry Farm Birders are a stealthy bunch, though. Can’t wait to see what Deb and her camera found feeding in the goldenrod and ironweed.
Common YellowthroatFemale American RedstartMagnolia WarblerJuvenile Indigo BuntingRed Spotted Purple ButterflyBrown ThrasherWaning Gibbous MoonEastern Wood Pee-weeAmerican Goldfinch
Beatrice took her last ride in a car today. She arrived here as a little pig, scared and confused. She joined Gertie in the kitchen: a duo of potbellies who watched Steve’s every epicurean move. She sashayed through the garden to join schoolchildren as they laughed and lunched on brown-bagged deliciousness. She rooted and ran, lounged in sunny patches of grass, and accepted treats whenever they were available—including as much of a box of Christmas Whitman’s Sampler as she could get before she was found out. A box of Little Debbie Strawberry Crème Cake Rolls made this morning’s journey a little less stressful and her arthritic hooves bearable. The veterinarian and students at Ohio State University Farm Animal Services in Marysville were kind, compassionate, and mercifully quick.
She was Little Pig. She was Christmas Piggy. She was the Queen. Her body is buried between the garden rows. A double rainbow this evening assures that She is Bea.
There was an outdoor art festival on the shore of Lake Erie last weekend. The show was one with a 20-year history and inexpensive. The latest round of tariffs had plunged the S&P so we had no expectations for sales. However, we had the tent, framed pieces and prints, and a need to get away for a bit so we packed up and drove north.
Except for smoky wildfire haze, the weather was lovely for August in the Midwest. Gulls and a pair of bald eagles cased the shoreline. White caps rolled, keeping the beach closed to swimming but open to big boats in full sail. A steady stream of people perused the festival, eating expensive flavored ices and walking major four-legged investments. I made the mistake of asking a man if his dog was a Brittany Spaniel. He looked at me like I had dribbled ketchup in his latte.
“She is actually an Aussie.” I apologized, muttering something about just noticing the blue eye and freckles on her nose and wondering what was offensive about having a Brittany Spaniel even though they are not currently a trendy breed. There were Dachshunds, French Bulldogs, Golden Retrievers, a Great Dane, a Greyhound, a Jack Russel Terrier, Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, Corgis, Lhasa Apsos, Chihuahuas in strollers and backpacks, and many more Aussies. The only dog that was in the middle of one minor altercation was the Jack Russell. Steve and I laughed about how the two country canines in our family would (not) behave in a crowd. And we loved on the one mutt that we saw during the two full days at the lakeside.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I adore dogs of all stripes and spots. Just as there are with humans, there are jerks in the canine club. But by and large, dogs are open and honest with their feelings. Animal shelters are full of purebreds as well as mongrels, all in need of love and good, forever homes. There is a rescue for every breed.
When we got home Sunday evening, we took a few minutes to listen and watch the variety of stripes and spots that mark the furred and feathered ones that share The Quarry Farm. We always do after being away for a time. There are mixed breeds and purebreds in the pastures and trees. Some are clearly of a certain pedigree, with the scripted markings, structure and gait of textbooks. Four of the goats faint when startled. Their limbs lock, sometimes causing them to fall over until blood flow returns. When this happens, the muttier goats stare at them and walk away. Some are “fancies” without the proper trimming, like Sidney the Silkie Rooster who lacks the curly feathered feet of snowbirds. Thank goodness for this because those luxurious boots bog down in weather and prevent the birds from walking. Bare-booted Sid is a fast force to be reckoned with no matter what the forecast brings.
Genetics is a wondrous field of study. Genetic modification can increase yields, lifespan, ear and nose shape, etc. I planted a golden Coleus in the garden this spring. This morning, I saw that the gold blooms were being replaced by a triumph of its magenta stock. Pockets, a marvelous red, brindle and white rooster of indeterminate parentage strutted through the plants on long, strong legs while Patches the Cow Goat (so named because he looks like the offspring of Holstein cow and a Nigerian Goat) munched on spent snow pea vines.
Download your copy of The Quarry Farm Newsletter/Summer 2025. Our first event onsite is an herb kokedama workshop. There are four herb kokedama growing on the porch of Steve’s kitchen–they are a fresh, cool, environmentally-friendly cultural experience. And registration is now open for The Quarry Farm 2025 5K, which we have moved up to September 13. This is a major fundraiser for us. With traditional funding—grants, corporate sponsorships—fewer and farther between with ongoing unrest, we need your support more than ever. Thank you.
And because an 11″ x 17″, two-sided newsletter will only allow for a small selection of the photos that are captured on The Quarry Farm from season to season, here are a few Spring snapshots that didn’t fit on the pages.
Birder Deb had a first yesterday, for herself and The Quarry Farm. Among the 52 bird species that she reported on eBird, “I heard and saw a Connecticut Warbler on the trail before the creek overlook,” noted Deb. “I have a friend in California, Tim. He told me before we moved to try and see a Connecticut Warbler. They are tough. They sing, but rarely show themselves. A few years ago one was reported at the Bluffton Preserve. It was hotter than fish grease and I stood in the sun for an hour trying a catch a glimpse of it while it sang and sang. Zero, zilch, no luck on a visual. I won’t count a bird for the first time unless I see it. So today when I heard it, I couldn’t believe my ears.”
The app Merlin confirmed the Connecticut Warbler’s song as it sang over and over again. Deb scanned with her binoculars and finally the elusive bird popped up for 2 seconds and disappeared again. Deb stood with her camera ready for about 20 minutes, but it never came out again and eventually stopped singing.
Deb and David Smith are in the nature preserve this morning. Maybe the Connecticut Warbler—TQF Bird #151 on eBird—will pose. According to Deb’s friend Tim, these $%$@ birds are hard to spot. Deb did capture some portraits of more cooperative avian species: Great Blue Heron in a tree on the far side of the quarry, an Eastern Wood-Pewee and an Indigo Bunting who seemed amazed to see a Deb below its tree.
Two Canada geese named Johnny and Stella introduced us to the richness of a life shared with wildlife educational ambassadors. I would say the introduction was a gentle one, and it was, until we found Stella’s body floating in their water tank. No one could tell us why. She looked fine externally. Wild animals naturally fight tooth, nail, beak, bill, and claw to stay away from humans, probably because humans are at the top of the food chain and every other species knows to keep their distance. If wild things allow humans to approach, there is something not quite right internally, in their nature or nurture. Their most natural state of being has made them vulnerable to our opposable thumbs, our intelligence, or lack thereof. A lifetime of living with other species makes me certain of the latter, especially as I write this there are military maneuvers going on in the sky outside my window.
Estella
Although it is tragic thing when a wild animal can’t live safely in wildness, it is a gift to spend some part of one’s human lifetime in their company. Some live for a few years. Others for a decade or more. Right now, we often tearfully refer to the farm animal sanctuary as the geriatric home. It’s been 14 years since Johnny and Stella moved in. Many mammals and birds have lived what remained of their lives here. The last 12 months have been hard on our hearts as several friends have, as we say, “gone over the fence.” This month, as we planned for an all-day offsite event about living side-by-side with wild creatures, we intended to feature Estella the Virginia Opossum. Estella was almost 4 years old, pretty ancient for this marsupial. She died in her sleep on Sunday.
Winston
In February, while I was in Columbus for a conference, my phone pinged with a text regarding an adult male, caught-by-dog Virginia Opossum. A Proctorville wildlife rehabilitator rescued him in the Fall. Angie named him Winston, and healed his severe wounds and fought infection. He weathered several veterinary appointments and possible pneumonia. But Angie got him through. Because Winston has mobility issues and hairless scarring on his hindquarters due to his injuries, it was decided that he could have a good future as an educational ambassador. Three weeks ago, I met Angie and Winston in Columbus for adoption.
On Tuesday, May 13, Winston represented his amazing, vital species at Miller City-New Cleveland Elementary School’s “School is Cool” event. Board Member Rita used owl and bat puppets to demonstrate the horrors and harm of using traps and poisons to control wildlife. Tyree the cornsnake, all shiny coral from a recent shed, represented the benefits of encouraging snake residents on a farm and in your garden. Winston growled a bit at first, but his scars are itchy. With ongoing scritches, he settled into his ambassadorship. No one knows exactly how old Winston is, but he will be comfortable and at peace at The Quarry Farm for as long as he will give.
According to Birdcast, 14,526,300 birds crossed Ohio from 8:40 p.m. on May 11, 2025 through 6:40 a.m. on May 12. From 9 to 11 a.m. that Monday, participants in the annual Spring Bird Migration Hike followed the pointing fingers of Deb Weston and David Smith to catch a glimpse of brilliant spring plumage. That morning, the group documented 46 bird species in the wetlands, pollinator gardens, and upland forest of The Quarry Farm nature preserve. An enormous Question Mark Butterfly warmed its wings long enough for a good view as well.
It seems that migration peaks earlier each year as the planet tries to right itself, and Deb and David try to schedule a hike date that happens before all of the migrators pass us by or settle in to nest under dense canopy. To get a good idea of what might pass through for a crowd, Deb walked the trails for days leading up to May 12 hike. She took notes…and brilliant photos.
April 30: 47 species today. A juvie Bald Eagle flew over the prairie, Yellow-rumped Warblers all over the place. One Yellow-breasted Chat, 3 Orchard Oriole, Tennessee Warbler, Nashville Warbler, Yellow Warbler, Palm Warbler and Black-throated Green Warbler. Rose-breasted Grosbeak, Great Crested Flycatcher, Warbling Vireo and 13 Double-crested Cormorants flying over in a perfect V.
May 1: 52 species today. There was a Gray-cheeked Thrush in the garden area. Don’t see them often and it escaped photo day. Female Red-winged Blackbird, Nashville Warbler and Solitary Sandpiper were not so shy.
May 2: 50 species today. An American Robin on her nest every day. 2 pics of a Palm Warbler; the first one dropped its food when it saw me. Another female Red-winged Blackbird because they’re so pretty and a Gray Catbird. 3 Wild Turkey, 2 in different sections of the prairie flushed when I walked by even though they were out in the middle. Sounded like helicopter blades. Not sure if they were sitting on nests, but baby turkeys would be cute. 1 Ruby-throated Hummingbird and the biggest surprise was an Osprey sitting in a tree at the lookout point. It took off before I could get my camera up, but was excited to see it. Last sighting was in 2021. Warblers: Orange-crowned, Nashville, Common Yellowthroat, Northern Parula, Yellow, Palm and Yellow-rumped.
May 9: 53 species today (14 warblers) Canada Goose, Wood Duck, Mourning Dove, Green Heron, Turkey Vulture, Red-headed Woodpecker, Red-bellied Woodpecker, Downy Woodpecker, Northern Flicker, Least Flycatcher, Yellow-throated Vireo, Blue-headed Vireo, American Crow (YAY—they’re back!), Carolina Chickadee, Tufted Titmouse, White-breasted Nuthatch, Northern House Wren, Carolina Wren, Gray Catbird, Eastern Bluebird, Wood Thrush, American Robin, House Sparrow, American Goldfinch, Chipping Sparrow, Field Sparrow, Savannah Sparrow, Song Sparrow, Lincoln’s Sparrow, Swamp Sparrow, Eastern Towhee, Orchard Oriole, Baltimore Oriole, Red-winged Blackbird, Brown-headed Cowbird, Common Grackle, Ovenbird, Nashville Warbler, Common Yellowthroat, American Redstart, Cape May Warbler, Northern Parula, Magnolia Warbler, Blackburnian Warbler, Yellow Warbler, Black-throated Blue Warbler, Palm Warbler, Yellow-rumped Warbler, Black-throated Green Warbler, Wilson’s Warbler, Northern Cardinal, Rose-breasted Grosbeak, Indigo Bunting.
Birdcast noted that 24,564,200 bird species flew over Ohio last night. We will be listening for new song as they make their way north to Magee Marsh Wildlife Area where Deb will be watching with her camera and 89,999 other people.
