I couldn't begin to count the hours I spent wading up and down a small creek that ran near my home when I was growing up. The natural world was then, as it still is today, my passion, and my fascination with it kept me in the woods just about every minute that I didn't absolutely have to be some place else. Those woods walks very often ended up at that small creek where all sense of time would vanish and a morning, an afternoon, or sometimes, an entire day , would fly by in the blink of an eye.
I remember that I'd always start out with the intention of keeping my feet dry but somehow those intentions almost without fail were either forgotten or simply abandoned within minutes of reaching the creek. This happened with such regularity that mom eventually designated an old and tattered pair of sneakers as my official "creek shoes", a habit that I've carried forward to this day, and if I came home with wet shoes those had best be the pair on my feet.... Something would always come up that would leave me with no choice but to cross to the other side, fresh diggings around an old fox den, a strange bird calling, a clump of fat juicy blackberrries, a cool butterfly, any one of a thousand things could and would instantly erase any thoughts of keeping my shoes dry and in less time than it takes to write it, I'd be splashing through the water. But then, that's only natural cause like the title says, creeks are for wading!
Uncountable species of insects made their home in and around the that creek. My favorites were always the dragon and damselflies that ran regular patrols up and down the creek. I never learned their proper names back then, it just didn't seem important at the time and to be honest learning and remembering all those names was too much like school work, something that in my misguided youth, just wasn't much of a priority with me. I wish now of course, that I'd spent a bit less time in the woods and a bit more with the books. But never the less I became familiar with them all and recognized all the regular residents on sight and any new species that showed up would be quickly recognized as such and it's colors, shape and habits cataloged in my head, not as a female Erythemis simplicicollis or a male Perithemis tenera, but as that cool green and black dragon or that beautiful little brown one with the transparent orange wings.
Close behind the dragons and damsels on my list of favorites were the fishing spiders that were able to sit, or rather, stand, legs spread in a circle around them, delicately on the waters surface as if they were completely weightless. I was also fascinated with the whirligig beetles that always hung out in tightly packed groups ranging in size from twenty or thirty to as many as a hundred individuals. On my approach they would scatter wildly in a dozen different directions, only to quickly snap back together as if they were all attached to each other by an invisible elastic web. Water striders would skitter across the surface with even more ease than the fishing spiders and whirlygigs, leaving not so much as a ripple behind them.
One summer I saved my allowance until I had enough to buy a small minnow seine. I still remember my excitement and anticipation while tying a stick to each side as I prepared to put it to use for the first time. Pushing it ahead of me as I waded through the shallow water I soon found that there was also a large variety of animals living secret lives below the surface, some very strange and fascinating. Besides the minnows, tadpoles, crawdads, leeches, and snails that I was already aware of, I found all sorts of strange water creatures that I had never suspected were living in my little creek as well. Over time I learned that many of the insects that fascinated me above the water had actually began their lives underwater and my little net often held the nymphs of dragonflies, damselflies, dobsonflies, stoneflies, and the strange looking cases that the caddisfly larvae built around themselves out of sand and stone and twigs.The little net also taught me that there was a much wider variety of minnows and other small fish than I had previously been aware of. Once it scooped up one of the common water snakes that were abundant in the creek and I quickly learned they did not like to be handled. A memory that still stands out today is the time I scooped up a salamander and I realized for the first time that the ones I had previously found only in the moist soil under old decaying logs and such had actually begun their lives in the water.
I'd often jump cottontail rabbits hiding along the brush lined banks and squirrels would scold me from high in the sycamores that grew tall and full in the rich bottom land soil. Whitetail deer had favorite crossing points that became well known to me. There were raccoon, mink, and muskrat tracks to be found and followed along the muddy banks. An owl pellet was a valued find that would always warrant it's careful dissection and examination to see what had been on the owl's menu. The tiny mouse bones, bird beaks, and rodent hairs within the pellets were as fascinating to me as a glimpse into the nucleus of an atom.
I remember one summer when a pair of beavers built a small dam which backed up the water enough to create a wonderful pool of dark green water that averaged about two to three feet deep. They dug their dens deep into the bank by way of clever underwater entrances to make a safe and secure home to raise their family in. Occasionally I would see them out and about during the daytime and it was always interesting to watch them as they would check their dam and make any repairs they deemed necessary. If I was careless and they spotted me they'd dive with a resounding smack of their wide flat tail to warn the rest of their family of my presence. Though I never harmed them they never did get comfortable with having me around.
If my approach to the pool was stealthy enough I could often find ducks resting in the quiet waters and painted turtles warming themselves in the sun on any fallen trees. Snappers and softshells moved into the pool too but the most that I would normally see of them would be the tip of their nose and eyes just poking above the water's surface as they cautiously surveyed the area. Once in awhile I'd come across one or the other up on the bank, sometimes quite far from the water, possibly in search of good nesting site or maybe, like me, just out on an exploration of their own. Big bullfrogs and their look alike cousins the Green frogs, moved in along with several smaller members of the frog family. Spotted Leopard frogs, tiny spring peepers and cricket frogs, and the closely related toads all found the beaver pond to their liking. The beaver clan seemed quite happy to share their pond with everyone, including the muskrats that moved right in and dug their own dens as though they owned the place.
Some days a covey of Bobwhite quail would startle me with a flurry of sound and feathers as they exploded from the underbrush, often practically under my feet. Woodducks could be seen throughout the year and in the spring and fall they were often joined by mallards and blue winged teal that used the little creek as a rest stop on their annual migration. Secretive wood cocks spent their days probing for worms in the moist soil of the creek bottoms. Almost impossible to spot on the ground they were usually seen only as they spiraled skyward after I had stumbled into their dining room. Shrill cries would pull my eyes skyward to see red-tailed hawks circling high overhead. Sometimes a Coopers Hawk would flash by in a bluish grey blur, hard on the tail of some unfortunate small bird. There were Great Blue and Little Green Herons that stalked the shorelines and American Bitterns that stood patiently, almost invisible against the reeds ,waiting for an unsuspecting small fish to swim by within it's reach. A rowdy pair of Kingfishers had favorite branches from which they launched their aerial attacks on those same small fish. Songbirds of many hues added their colors and songs to put the finishing touches on Mother Nature's creek painting. Put simply, there were more than enough wonders to keep a budding young naturalist content throughout the year.
Over the many years that have passed since then I've spent countless hours walking up and down many other small creeks and streams, but eventually, for a few years, I left those smaller creeks behind and moved on to explore ever larger rivers, from the meandering Bourbeuse, to the clear blue/green waters of the Meramec and Gasconade, to the muddy brown waters of the Osage and lower Missouri all the way up to the grande dame of them all the mighty Mississippi. The big rivers are wonderful and they also hold a special place in my heart. But the past few years I've been drawn back to the smaller creeks of my youth. I don't know what that says, maybe I'm going through a second childhood, or maybe I'm just getting lazy in my old age and I like the fact that very little preparation is necessary to take a walk along a little creek . I can grab my camera, a water bottle and candy bar and I'm good for an entire morning. I admit that I do like that part, but it has to do more with the simple fact that small creeks have their own kind of magic and somewhere along the way I've learned anew to appreciate and see them once again through the eyes of that young boy.
So it's no surprise that awhile back I found myself parking my old truck near a bridge that crosses what is locally known as Big Creek. The name is a bit misleading, since other than a few scattered holes, it is only a few yards wide and less than a foot deep. With the dry summer we've had this year it's even smaller than normal.
This is a pic of the bridge where I began my creek walk. It's only a couple years old, and replaces the old narrow one that was on the verge of falling down. I personally liked the old one with it's rusty steel girders and metal guard rails that allowed you to look between them and see the creek you were crossing, but I have to admit it was very old and in very bad condition. Just wish the new one had some of the character of the old one.
This summers drought has been hard on my little creek. The current was so slight as to be almost imperceptible, and the pools were as still as a painting. The leaves that floated on the still surface made me think of sailing ships stranded on a calm and windless sea. Even the once happy gurgling riffles now seemed to be little more than shallow wounds slowly bleeding out what was left of the pools. It was kind of depressing to see it in this condition.
This picture gives you an idea of what an effect the drought has had on the creek this summer. Normally most of that slab rock would have a few inches of water flowing over it. Now the entire flow can be handled by one tiny channel where it trickles out and is absorbed by the pool below and all sense of movement disappears.
In spite of it's small size and reduced flow this little creek still holds a large variety of fish. Many species of minnows thrive here, creek chubs,two types of shiners,stone rollers, dace, madtoms, and the beautiful little darters with their vivid colors, and almost certainly other species that I'm not even aware of. In the deeper pools there are larger fish including both large and smallmouth bass, bluegill, green sunfish, fliers, pumpkin seeds, goggle eyes, redhorse and hognose suckers, bullheads and even channel catfish. An amazing assortment of fish that all fill their own particular niche in the web of life on the small stream.
This is a good example of the slab bedrock that this little creek flows over. Here and there gravel and sand bars have built up but under it all are layers upon layers of sedimentary rock that was laid down long before even the dinosaurs walked the earths surface.
These two big boulders weigh many tons each, and I wouldn't make a guess as to how many of years ago they tumbled down from the adjacent hill side to lie here in the creek, but from the water wear patterns I'd guess that countless generations of creek explorers like me have stood and wondered about them.
Another view of the boulders taken from a different vantage point that shows the trunk of a large tree that came down during a flood and was stopped right here by the two large stones. It kind of hints at the power of this little creek when rains pour off the surrounding hillsides and bluffs to fill her up and put her in flood mode.
This almost looks like someone poured a concrete slab here but I assure you that Mother Nature was the sole architect. The graffiti artist that used this rock slab as his canvas left no signature but I'm guessing he looks a lot like a Great Blue Heron.
Every creek I've ever walked has a wide variety of insect life that live along it and this one is no exception. Below are pictures of some of those I came across on my walk.
The gorgeous wasp on the goldenrod is a Double banded Scoliid, Scolia bicincta. I don't know too much about them but I've noticed that when I find one I usually find several in the same area. I've never been able to find a nest.
I've been trying to get an open wing shot of a Grey Hairstreak all summer and almost succeeded but fell just short with this guy.
I saw several of these tiny beauties along the creek. They are a common summer time flower here in Missouri. This pic is blown up many times it's actual size. I have to admit I never realized how beautiful they were until I got a close look at them while getting this picture. Sometimes we miss some of natures best works simply by not taking a second look as we walk right past them. That is one of the unexpected benefits that I've gained since taking up photography. It lets me see some of the tiny beauty that I've been overlooking all my life. They're called Tall Bellflowers, Campanula Amiricana.
Dragonflies have always fascinated me and I've chased a many of them up and down creeks trying to get their picture. This one made it very easy for me when he just flew in and landed right in front of me as I sat on a rock taking a break. He's a Widow Skimmer, Libellula luctuosa.
The mug on this big guy may not win him any beauty awards but he's a very cool member of the creek community. I was just a bit late for dinner as he was chewing up the last of his meal when I came upon him. I believe he is a Black-shoulderedSpinylegDromogomphusspinosus.
The next two pics are of Damselflies. Of all the insects that I've been trying to identify I've found the damsels to be some of the most difficult. Even the experts are often unable to ID many of them from pictures alone. And not being anything remotely close to an expert, I admit that the names I've given these two; Blue Fronted Dancer and Powdered Dancer, are little more than guess's. But not knowing for sure what they are does not diminish my enjoyment at seeing them. Beautiful little creatures that are always a welcome sight.
These late summer flowers are called Smooth Phlox , Phlox Phloxglaberrima. We have another member of the Phlox family here that is an early spring wildflower that we call Sweet Williams. These look very similar.
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I saw several grass skippers along the creek that day, this poanes zabulon was the only one that was willing to sit still long enough for me to get his picture.
I watched this Louisiana Waterthrush for several minutes as he worked the shallows for his lunch. It was very interesting. He would grab a submerged leaf and pull it from the water and quickly toss it to the side and then snatch anything that had been hiding under it. I couldn't tell what he was finding but he found several somethings and quickly swallowed each and every one.They eat about anything that lives in the water from small fish to water insects to crawdads. Watching him hunt he reminded me a bit of a tiny little heron.
This is a terrible pic, blurry and out of focus,but it shows his leaf snatching hunting tactic that I spoke of, and I wanted you to see it. It was so cool to watch him hunting. He found something under almost every leaf he chose leading me to believe that he wasn't just grabbing leaves at random. He was clearly picking up on something that told him that there was a meal under it. He would walk past leaf after leaf and then stop and often cock his head a bit and stand motionless for a second and then with a quick thrust would yank the leaf out and toss it to the side and then grab the now exposed food item, all in the blink of an eye. It was obvious that he was thinking throughout the whole process and that he knew exactly what he was doing. Watching him further cemented my absolute belief that there are countless species of thinking, creative, and sentient creatures sharing this planet with us. I find it astonishing that there are still some people in this world that won't accept that.
If you are lucky enough to have a little creek nearby, don't let it's small size stop you from exploring it. You may be surprised at the varieties and numbers of plants and animals that make their homes along it. Just don't forget to wear your old creek shoes. Mom won't like it if you ruin your good ones.