Sextonville - In the late-morning sun, southern Wisconsin was a green expanse bursting with new life.

From wildlife in fields and forests to row crops on agricultural acres, the class of 2011 was rising.

Working a stretch of stream in Richland County, I spied my first turkey brood of the year, softball-sized poults tottering after a hen, and watched barn swallows deliver fresh insect meals to the gaping mouths of nestlings beneath a bridge.

I came across a red fox den, too, perched in a grassy opening on a bluff, where three kits played king-of-the-mountain.

But by early afternoon, the June sky had transformed from a blue-and-white checkerboard to a greenish churning mass.

It's the kind of weather that has its own soundtrack - the natural locomotive and the man-made severe weather siren.

I'm no storm chaser. I found shelter in the basement of a friendly farmer's home.

But when the storm had passed an hour later, the babbling brook had morphed into a muddy torrent. High winds had uprooted trees and strewn limbs. An estimated 2 inches of rain had fallen.

A muggy silence filled the coulee.

From La Crosse to Kenosha, the state has been pounded by storms in recent days. Summer and thunderstorms go hand-in-hand.

While most of the human population has the option of "safe harbor," the wild ones are not as fortunate.

Or are they? How exactly does wildlife fare in severe storms?

"For the most part, they do just fine," said Bill Volkert, naturalist and educator for 27 years at the Horicon Marsh State Wildlife Area. "Most storms are harder on humans than they are on wildlife."

The operative phrase for wildlife in storms is "hunker down."

"The animals we have today are the result of years and years of evolution," Volkert said. "All things considered, they have some very impressive survival adaptations."

While the state is whipped with hurricane-force winds, birds simply find a place in the lee of a tree or stay on their nest.

When dangerous weather struck southeastern Wisconsin on Tuesday, for example, the nest camera at Big Muskego Lake showed the female osprey with its head down, protecting its two eggs.

Meanwhile, Milwaukee Brewers patrons at Miller Park were dodging indoor waterfalls. Sometimes roofs aren't all they're cracked up to be.

And unlike humans, wildlife has evolved to build nests and raise young in areas that offer the best chance for survival.

That typically is not in a flood plain.

Volkert said even most mallard ducks and blue-winged teal at Horicon Marsh nest in grassy upland areas, then march their broods to the water after they hatch.

Some of the first downy duck hatchlings of the year have been seen paddling around the state in recent weeks.

Noel Cutright, past president of the Wisconsin Society for Ornithology, said the engineering of wildlife nests is of high quality. And though some birds might lose nests in windstorms, if it happens early enough in the summer, many species will re-nest immediately.

"Wildlife has a resiliency that, with the right habitat and opportunity, never ceases to amaze," Cutright said.

Cutright added that in late June, the temperature is usually warm enough and food supplies abundant enough to help birds and other wildlife get through severe weather.

Most mammals are well-suited to survive storms in June, too. If waters rise around rivers, deer and raccoon and bear simply will relocate.

And unlike humans, they don't have any personal property to worry about.

This month I accompanied researchers and volunteers looking for white-tailed deer fawns in Wisconsin. Most fawns were found on islands of high ground surrounded by water.

Most wildlife can do quite well in and around water, thank you.

How do animals that live in water handle high flows in rivers and streams?

Dave Vetrano, retired fish supervisor from western Wisconsin, worked with trout streams for 30 years. He said streams, especially ones that have been rehabilitated, do very well.

"Flooding can actually help remove silt and scour out new gravel beds," Vetrano said. "In streams that have been reconnected to their flood plains, the damage is minimal."

Vetrano and crews sampled trout streams after several of the "100-year floods" that hit western Wisconsin in recent years. They all turned up good numbers of 2- to 3-inch young-of-the-year trout.

The fish, even small ones, find eddies or other areas of decreased stream velocity and "ride out" the storm.

So while humans were forced to evacuate campsites at Sidie Hollow County Park in Vernon County this week as their coolers and more floated away, the wild ones mostly fared much better.

Walking along the stream again, now in early evening, the life force of summer gradually returned to the Richland County valley.

A doe eased into a back corner of a pasture, two spotted fawns in tow, and munched on tender grass.

The sun highlighted clouds of insects floating above the alfalfa. Eastern kingbirds darted off fence posts to grab meals on the wing.

The barn swallows were back, too, weaving gracefully over the fields on feeding missions.

I dared tempt the trout in the swollen stream with a large feather-and-hair concoction.

The fish likely had stomachs full of worms, a gift of the storm, and scoffed at my presentations.

If rejection can be heartening, it was there amid the wildlife thriving in the afterglow of a frightful summer storm.

Send email to psmith@journalsentinel.com.