Southern Tier Woodlands
(This
1002nd Buffalo Sunday News column was
first published on June 6, 2010.)

Mud Creek
When
Dan Kashuba invited me to visit his Southern Tier
summer home to help him census his birds, I jumped at the chance and last week beat
the heat on an early morning trip.
The
drive down was as refreshing as usual. As soon as I drove beyond Hamburg, I found
myself in the open country that characterizes our region. Here were broad grain
fields; cows grazing contentedly; pink, purple and white dame's rockets at
roadside; farmers busy around barns or already out on tractors working their
crops; villages still quiet, their only activity traffic signals that stop me
briefly; even two women seated on an open porch gossiping, surprising me at six
in the morning.
Kashuba had suggested a route that avoided the
traffic on Route 62. It really wasn't necessary at that time in the morning but
I followed his directions: right off 62 on Eden Evans Center Road and then left
on Versailles Plank Road. I understand that this road is pronounced locally, unlike
the original French, with sail accented and I wonder how language teachers
react. I find this kind of thing a reminder of our recognition of but
independence from our sources: the village of Chili outside Rochester
pronounced with the first syllable rhyming with shy; Beethoven Street in
Binghamton sounding like Beth-oven.
My
host greeted me and we set out to explore his hundred acres. Kashuba purchased the property back in the 1970s for a few
thousand dollars. When he borrowed money from his father to do so, he told me,
his dad felt he was paying far too much: "Why pay more than a dollar an
acre?" he had asked. So much for changing values.
This
land was thoroughly timbered before Kashuba took
over. He responded by planting over 3000 trees and the results were evident on
this bright morning. Most of the plantings are conifers: Norway spruce, white
spruce in wet areas, larch and red pine. Many of these trees are flourishing
now. There are deciduous trees as well: maples among them. Recently Kashuba had many of his ashes removed to beat the predicted
devastation by emerald ash beetles.

Our
walk first took us along Mud Creek to a marshy pond created by a beaver dam.
When we approached, a great blue heron rose and flew downstream. Kashuba has had green herons and wood ducks here as well,
but they weren't evident on this morning. Red-winged blackbirds called from the
pond edge and a song sparrow sang from the nearby bushes.
From
there we headed up through the spruce glade on a well-cleared path, immediately
coming upon a yellow-rumped warbler, a clear
indication that we were in country much higher than Buffalo for most
yellow-rumps fly far to our north to breed. Kashuba's
house is at 1600 feet, already a thousand feet higher than mine in Amherst, and
his property rises to over 1900 feet from there. Also singing there were several
redstarts and a magnolia warbler. These attractive warblers replace the yellow
and chetnut-sided warblers of our lower country.
When
we left the spruce and hiked up into the mixed hardwood-softwood forest, we
entered the land of the red-eyed vireo. Some believe that this cheerful
species, with its monotonous robin-like song repeated over and over all day
long, is the commonest bird in North America. I find that hard to believe - my
candidate the ubiquitous starling - but the vireo is widely distributed through
our northern forests where few other birds are found.
We
didn't see many birds but we could hear rose-breasted grosbeaks and orioles and
hooded warblers singing and I was able to point out the
robin-with-a-burr-in-its-throat song of a scarlet tanager as we made our way
uphill.
We
came upon a few tent caterpillar web nests and sure enough a black-billed
cuckoo sang in the distance. That species is one of the few known to feed on
those nasty caterpillars.
Our
species list wasn't very long - we had missed the dawn chorus that would have
added many - but it was a delight simply to visit this well-maintained
property.
Returning,
I visited Gowanda and am pleased to report how well the village has come back
from last year's devastating flood.-- Gerry Rising