Michigan Forest Life - August 26, 2026

Good day, nature enthusiasts! 

I sit in the Treehouse at Winterfield Pines Nature Sanctuary with a small cup of fresh brewed espresso, listening to rain drumming on Treehouse's metal roof. 

I heard the rain come in - first, the rumble of distant thunder and a sunny sky. I was actually confused; fooled by the rumble and the sunshine together. I wondered what agricultural machine could make a sound so authentically 'thunder.' It went on for a while. With much of the sky hidden by the tree canopy, I saw only sunlight in the east. I stood on the Treehouse porch pulling deep gulps of forest air into my lungs, smelling the white pines surrounding me, periodically hearing the low, ominous, rumbling vibration.

It was when a wave of rattling leaves began to flow through the forest from the west that I was pretty sure I had been fooled. Yes, I heard it coming. The wind walking through the trees, then the crescendo of many tiny raindrops bouncing off leaves and being sliced apart by pine needles a quarter mile away. Not the quiet sound of a single drop of rain, but the gentle hum of a sky full of raindrops. The rain came swiftly through the forest, riding a wave of wind that began by the river at the sanctuary's border. It moved closer - one hundred yards away. The sound approaching. Then, as the sound volume picked up, I heard rain in the trees around me, and its drumming on the thin steel roof of this shelter in the trees. 

As if each drop of rain controlled a tiny dimmer switch, it brought the forest into a dark, eerie, subdued, dripping jungle of tree columns and wet fern understory (Photos 1, 2). 

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I wonder what the owl and coyotes I heard at daybreak think about this rain. Did it surprise them too? Were they fooled by the sunshine, misjudging the rumble? 

I think not. 

Do forest creatures try to escape the rain and find shelter? Or do they celebrate it - puff up their feathers, wiggle their ears and shake their fur - perhaps hold out their tongue to catch Mother Nature's unfiltered milk fresh from the sky? What would we do without our civilized understandings?

A second pot of espresso is brewing (Photo 3). ...well, not quite espresso, but close enough for

rural conditions. 

I wish you a roof to shelter under and a cup of hot coffee to drink while you ponder the natural world surrounding you ...and perhaps how humans fit into the natural order of things.

Until next time,

Dan

P.S. Bonus photo 4 of this morning’s sunrise.