• Report any tips that might help officials find the shooters. Call U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service special agent Terry Hasting in the south Georgia case (404-763-7959), special agent John Rawls for the Lake Weiss investigation (334-285-9600) or Georgia DNR's 24-hour TIP Hotline, (800) 241-4113.
• Share this flyer on the south Georgia crane case.
• Send us your ideas for ways to raise awareness about whoopers.
• Learn more about whooping cranes and efforts to re-establish a migratory population in the eastern U.S.

Georgia projects earn
‘5 Star’ recognition
   
   When it comes to ranking, these two northwest Georgia projects involving the Nongame Conservation Section and others rated five stars. The recent awards banquet for the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation’s Five Star Restoration Grant Program recognized the following work in the state.

Rare plant conservation in northwest Georgia
   The Georgia Plant Conservation Alliance, the Nongame Conservation Section and the Atlanta Botanical Garden were honored for restoring rare plant habitat and safeguarding rare plant species in northwestern Georgia. Efforts focused on restoring 11.1 acres of wetlands and riparian zones at seven sites and establishing populations of the federally-protected Tennessee yellow-eyed grass (right) and Virginia spirea, as well as the state-protected Georgia alder.
   Project leader Dr. Jenny Cruse-Sanders, Atlanta Botanical Garden’s director of Conservation and Research, and Dr. Mincy Moffett, a DNR botanist, worked with the Georgia Department of Transportation, Georgia Power and the U.S. Forest Service to improve habitat quality, remove invasive species and add rare plants. Populations of these plant species are being protected and recovered through propagation and safeguarding at Georgia Plant Conservation Alliance botanical gardens and in the restored wetlands.
   Community volunteers are also participating in restoration efforts. Lesson plans, training workshops and conservation display gardens at institutions in the alliance are engaging educators, students and the public in learning about the importance of wetlands in northwest Georgia.


Restoring a haven for endangered darters
   Another Five Star effort is the restoration of Colvard Spring in Murray County. The Conasauga River Alliance is working with the Wildlife Resources Division and the Tennessee Aquarium to restore 1.5 acres of the heavily silted spring, which harbors one of Georgia’s few remaining populations of the state-endangered coldwater darter. The knee to chest-high accumulations of sediment likely resulted from run-off from historic land-uses, but fortunately a wide buffer of trees and shrubs now surrounds the spring.
   The restoration team removed sediment during fall the last two years, and conducted pre- and post-removal monitoring of sediment, aquatic plant communities and darter abundance.
   “Although Colvard Spring looks like a tiny pond from the road, it seems really big when you are trying to vacuum the bottom of it and search every inch of it for a 2-inch fish,” said Dr. Brett Albanese, a DNR senior aquatic zoologist. “We were really lucky to get extra help from the Georgia DNR Stream Survey Team and The Nature Conservancy.”
   Before pumping out sediment, crews of 10-12 people attempted to capture as many coldwater darters as possible so the fish could be temporarily relocated to the Tennessee Aquarium Research Institute for the duration of the three-week pumping effort. Sediment was pumped onto an adjacent landowner’s field, where vegetation and special erosion-control matting prevented it from being washed back into the spring.
   “We had great cooperation from the two landowners that live near the spring and we even got the erosion-control matting donated by a local industry” said Josh Smith of the Conasauga River Alliance (pictured above).
   The restoration team is reviewing data to determine the need for additional pumping and other restoration activities this year.

Program at a glance
The Five Star Restoration Program began in 1999 as a partnership of the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation, National Association of Counties, the Wildlife Habitat Council and the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. Five Star provides financial assistance on a competitive basis to support community-based wetland, riparian and coastal habitat restoration projects that build partnerships and foster local natural resource stewardship through education, outreach and training activities.




Out my backdoor
Sandhills on wing
mark coming spring

By Terry W. Johnson
   The first signs of spring have been seen and heard in the Peach State. They were not borne on the wings of robins. They were not emblazoned in the vibrant colors of a crocus. They didn’t fill the night air like the chorus of the chorus frog. Instead, the pending arrival of spring was announced from on high by birds whose ancestors winged their way over the continent some 2.5 million years ago.
   The messengers were northward-bound sandhill cranes.
   I seem to hear their calls when I least expect them. Such was the case this year. I heard them on the warm afternoon of Feb. 13 as I was walking about my yard, trying to shake off the effects of an illness that had kept me inside far too long. Off to the north I heard the unmistakable karoo, karoo, karoo calls of a flock of sandhill cranes flying so high I could not see them.
   While it is true these garbled calls, which can be heard a mile or more away, often sound like the barking of a pack of dogs, I was sure I was listening to sandhill cranes.
   Immediately my spirits lifted for I knew that these harbingers of spring were telling me spring is just around the corner.
   If you are not familiar sandhill cranes, chances are when you first spot their long, meandering V-shaped flocks you will mistake them for Canada geese. Since the birds fly so high it is often difficult to tell much about them other than the fact that they are really big birds.
   If you have a pair of binoculars handy, once you focus on the passing flock you can immediately tell they are not geese. Sandhills have long legs that trail well behind their tails. The legs of geese never extend beyond their tails. You might even be able to make out the crane’s long, dagger-like bills.
   The next clue to look for is the shape of the flock. Both sandhill cranes and Canada geese often fly in V-shaped formations. Yet, while geese typically maintain this shape, the V-shape of a crane flock seems to constantly change. The sides of the V will undulate. Birds also often fall out of formation, then seemingly regain their bearings and rejoin the flock.
   It is always a special treat to find a flock of sandhill cranes on the ground. Only then can you appreciate their size and beauty. Standing erect, an adult male sandhill crane stands almost as tall as an average man. From wingtip to wingtip their outstretched wings measure 6½ feet. Their bodies are gray and their heads have a bright red crown. Their tails are short and ostrich-like.
   Sandhill cranes make brief stops in Georgia as they move north. Look for them late or early in the day in large fields or open, shallow wetlands. Sometimes these visits are associated with fog or other bad weather. Occasionally, they will even stop at golf courses and other open areas.
   Although most winter on the vast prairies of Florida, some wintering birds never venture farther than south Georgia. They can be found in the greatest numbers from the Okefenokee Swamp west to Grand Bay Wildlife Management Area near Valdosta, where they sometimes share roosting and feeding areas with our resident Florida sandhill cranes. However, I regularly find them during the winter as far north as the farmlands around Americus.
   A major concern shared by wildlife biologists is the rapidly changing landscape along the crane’s migration pathway. Without safe, productive areas to feed and rest as they move to and from their breeding grounds, the numbers of sandhill cranes would quickly plummet.
   The migration of the sandhill crane remains one of nature’s most spectacular annual events. What is truly amazing is that I don’t have to travel to some distant wilderness area to enjoy. It is something I can watch while standing in my own backyard.

Terry Johnson is a former Nongame program manager with the Wildlife Resources Division, a backyard wildlife expert, and executive director of TERN, the friends group of the Nongame Conservation Section. (Permission is required to reprint this column.)

Georgia sees 'greaters'
The sandhill cranes that wing their way over Georgia are greater sandhills. They are part of the eastern population, one of nine distinct populations. Their breeding range reaches from Hudson Bay to Michigan and Wisconsin. Their population numbers 24,000-26,000. Practically all of these birds migrate through Georgia.

Staying in touch
Sandhill cranes are very social birds. On migration, their flocks number in the hundreds. These flocks are composed of family groups and unmated birds. While migrating, the cranes constantly communicate with one another. Males and females often sing duets as they fly.


Miracle of Moody Forest
Public lands profile: Praise for Appling family

by Shan Cammack and Hilary Smith
   As slowly rising temperatures beckon spring,
spring peepers wake from their winter slumber, echoing a faint chorus through the woods. Soon, these little frogs will be vociferous, signaling the start of one of the most beautiful seasons in the longleaf pine forest.
   In few places across Georgia is this beauty as evident and accessible as at Moody Forest Natural Area near Baxley. First protected by the Moody family, then The Nature Conservancy in 2000 and DNR, what was once called “Moody Swamp” is a rich example of biodiversity in south Georgia.
   The story of the forest is tied to the story of the Moodys, a hardworking family that practiced conservation before it was a household word.
   The Moody family came to Appling County in the mid-1800s. They bought land and lived a simple life. They realized their wealth in the wild things – pitcher plants, snakes and gopher tortoises, grasses, woodpeckers – that graced their cypress swamp and longleaf pine forests.
   In 1952, siblings Causs, Wade and Elizabeth Moody inherited Moody Forest from Jake Moody. The siblings also inherited their uncle’s determination to protect the land from development and abuse.
   The Moodys lived off the land, mostly by grazing cattle and harvesting turpentine. The rest of the forest was left, as Jake would say, “for the trees to grow.” Income was generated by selling gum tapped from longleaf and slash pine trees. Very little timber was sold. A few trees were cut and milled to build structures on the property. Relatives tell stories about the Navy buying timber for ships, and about land barons traveling for days to try to purchase some of Jake’s “big timber” for building homes.
   The forests were probably burned annually, mostly in late winter, to produce new growth in the spring for free-ranging cattle and to protect the family’s turpentine trees from wildfire. The Moodys stopped burning in the 1960s, when turpentine operations ceased. Jake Moody’s management philosophy, while not favoring a particular species, preserved one of the few old-growth longleaf pine-wiregrass stands that remain today.
   When the brothers died, estate taxes levied against the family required the cutting of some timber. The Moodys steered loggers away from most of the virgin timber. Miss Elizabeth, the last heir to live on the property, maintained the family’s legacy of protecting the land until her death in 2000.
  The fate of Moody Forest was then uncertain. The property went to 32 heirs, who put it up for auction. Despite considerable interest from timber buyers, The Nature Conservancy submitted the highest of eight bids.
   The Nature Conservancy and Georgia DNR have since worked together to increase protection and conserve, protect, restore and maintain habitat quality and biological diversity. Moody Forest Natural Area is now a 4,432-acre preserve.
   Unique natural habitats include the two miles of the mighty Altamaha River, with its mature bottomland hardwood forests and bald cypress/gum sloughs and oxbows, north-facing bluff forests replete with wildflowers and dotted with sandstone outcrops, mature longleaf pine/blackjack oak/wiregrass communities, and scrubby longleaf pine/turkey oak sand-ridge woodlands. Most management efforts have focused on restoring a more appropriate fire regime to benefit fire-adapted communities. Vegetation monitoring guides management approaches, as outlined in a 50-year plan for the natural area.
   Nature Conservancy and DNR objectives at Moody Forest are to protect and restore the native plant and animal communities while providing compatible public research, educational and recreational opportunities. Two interpretive trails have been developed and are open to the public year-round.
   Tavia’s Trail begins at a kiosk near the corner of East River Road and Jake Moody Road. This three-mile trail leads visitors through several restoration areas as well as one of the best examples of old-growth longleaf pine/ blackjack oak communities. A number of rare species thrive here, including red-cockaded woodpecker, eastern indigo snake and gopher tortoise. Prescribed fire has been carefully applied to this area to reduce dangerously high fuel loads and even more dangerous duff. While longleaf pine evolved with and is dependent on fire, old growth stands that have been fire-suppressed can be vulnerable to fire if improperly applied. The trail also leads through some of the intact bottomland communities, including old cypress and tupelo trees and the loblolly flats.
   The other trail is the Altamaha River Trail, which leaves from the kiosk and parking area on Morris Landing Road and winds through the bottomlands toward the river. Highlights of this walk, covering eight-tenths of a mile, include bridges across sloughs and debris and high-water marks showing recent flooding.
   Guided tours are available on the natural area for educational groups. Hunting is also allowed, with seasons for deer, turkey, and small game posted in state hunting regulations.
   Moody Forest has inspired its residents and visitors alike for more than 200 years. Today’s hikers, hunters and visiting biologists and fire ecologists are writing the latest chapter in a long cultural history of this property, admiring some of the same old-growth longleaf pine trees that the Moodys looked upon when they first arrived in the 1800s.

Getting there
From Baxley, take U.S. 1 north for about eight miles. Turn right onto Asbury Church Road and go about three miles. Turn left onto Jake Moody Road, go about a mile, and then turn right onto East River Road. The trailhead for Tavia's Trail is at the intersection and the office is about a mile to the east.







"It’s easy to let fire lull you into a hypnotic state, but our job isn’t to stand around …"






A view from the fireline

By Hilary Smith
   As the sun sets on a rollicking half-week of prescribed burns at Crooked River State Park, I, one-sixth of a rough-and-ready DNR seasonal prescribed fire crew, reflect on the beauty, excitement, challenges and rewards of painting Georgia’s forests, sandhills and palmetto fields with that most basic of elemental environmental-management tools: fire.  
   When I’m on the fireline or prowling the interior of a burn unit, all my senses are engaged with the sights, sounds, heat, peppery taste and smell of fire.
   Fire produces a spirited color-palette, from the reds of advancing flames to the glowing orange of embers, fluttering down like fireflies off of snags as they burn late into the night. It builds gray smoke, chalky ash and the stunning blackness of still-smoldering, burned-over ground.
   Then there are fire’s sounds – the sizzle of a gallberry bush igniting, the roar of an exploding palmetto patch, the almighty crash of burned-through snags as they crash to the forest floor. A headfire ripping through a field of grasses can sound like a freight train, running toward you at full speed.
   It’s easy to let fire lull you into a hypnotic state, but our job isn’t to stand around and watch the light show – we have to move, to coordinate, to think about wind direction and ignition strategies, to accomplish tasks quickly and accurately, to watch constantly for threats of fire crossing our fire breaks, and, always, to keep safety on our minds.
   We usually carry a drip-torch (for lighting fire) and a hand-tool, such as a fire rake or shovel (for spreading fuels, raking protective dirt barriers around structures or putting out fire if gets too close to the fire break). We must also juggle – and keep track of – a radio, compass, burn-unit map and pen, plus a protective fire shelter and a backpack filled with food, water and extra personal safety equipment.
   It’s a lot to keep track of, and the thick gloves and clunky fire boots we wear don’t help matters. For a naturally clumsy person such as me, it’s no picnic to stumble through vine-matted forests hiding the occasional gopher-tortoise burrow. I have been covered in bruises, gridded my legs in briar-scratches and scraped off a bit of elbow-skin. I’ve lost items and been lost myself.
   The stumbles, mistakes and turn-arounds are frustrating.

   But I’m never alone out there. We’re a tight crew of six, and at the end of the day, there’s nothing like the feeling of support – and good-natured ribbing – that comes from living and working with a group of people you truly like.
    This is the third year DNR has hired and trained a crew specifically for prescribed fire. Veteran firelighter Shan Cammack heads the team for the third year, with Brett Boisjolie returning as crew leader. Veterans Carly Monahan and Lily Walter, and new Student Conservation Association interns Hannah Hourie, Kelly Jarvis and me round out the crew.
   Boisjolie and the new interns first burned together in December, with Monahan and Walter joining us in January. Time is flying, and despite a weather-limiting slow start to the season, acres are finally starting to burn.
   By day, you’ll see us lighting and monitoring prescribed fires, building fireline, chain-sawing snags or helping out on any number of other conservation projects, from gopher tortoise inventories to bird banding. By night, we’re travelling to our next work sites, settling into our latest nomadic dwellings (state park cabins) and taking turns cooking dinner.  
   In addition to our inside jokes and commiserations over blisters, aches and pains, what unites us is a love for fire as a habitat management tool – and a passion for watching it do its work.
   Fire opens up the forest understory, burning overgrown areas and clearing space and resources for native plants and animals. It also reduces excess fuels that could catch and cause costly, dangerous wildfires.
   In the short weeks we’ve been caravanning across Georgia, my crew has inculcated a real love for the native plants and landscapes we’re trying to conserve through prescribed burning. A particular favorite is the longleaf pine, that statuesque tree that looks like it came from a Dr. Seuss storybook.
   Where there’s longleaf, a tremendous diversity of species thrives, from indigo snakes to gopher tortoises, pitcher plants to red-cockaded woodpeckers.
   All too soon, this year’s crew will part ways, and we’ll head west and north to our next adventures. But Georgia, as the song goes, will long be on our minds.
   Those images of glowing night-fire, torching trees and windy smoke-spirals are burned into our memories.
  
Parting shot

Sapelo Island manager Fred Hay, left, and DNR Commissioner Mark Williams explore Sapelo as part of an ecology-oriented trip during Weekend for Wildlife. The 2011 event dodged rain and delighted guests and organizers, raising more than $600,000 for the Georgia Wildlife Conservation Fund. Some other highlights: The archaeology group at Sapelo uncovered the site of the original lightkeeper’s house, and Gov. Nathan Deal and his wife Sandra toured Cumberland Island National Seashore.