A Back Bay Amble

 Supposedly, I should be all well by now.  A new Covid test indicated I no longer have the virus.  My senses of taste and smell are back to normal, and coughing no longer wakes me at night. But I feel as if my lungs can only partially fill, and my afternoon nap is no longer a comfy luxury but a definite need.  The weather has been so gorgeous, though, I longed to be outside.  A three-mile walk around the shore of Moreau Lake seemed more than I wanted to manage, but a shorter amble around the lake's back bay seemed doable. So that's what I did last Saturday.

Walking toward the bridge that would take me to the back-bay trail, I paused to admire the deep russets and dark golds of the shoreline trees.

From the bridge, I gazed at the back bay's quiet water, reflecting the beauty of the shoreline forest and mostly blue sky.

The tree-lined trail between the lake and its bay offered beautiful views of both bodies of water.

A hedge of Black Huckleberry shrubs at the edge of the south-facing sun-bathed shore had achieved their late-fall shade of brilliant scarlet.

I found colorful surprises too, along the shaded woodsy trail.  This baby oak bore leaves of a rosy red.

And several Lowbush Blueberry shrubs had beautiful green twigs.

The trailside Maple-leaved Viburnums bore pinky-purple leaves and blue-black berries.  So pretty!

As I began to circle the bay, I was surprised to notice how very low the water had fallen.  Moreau Lake is a kettle lake that depends almost completely on rainfall and snowmelt to maintain its water levels. I had not been aware of any remarkable dearths of either this year, but what else could have caused the water to fall so low as to reveal so much of the bay's muddy bottom?

In the woods, the Red Maples had dropped their scarlet leaves already, but the many American Beeches still held their leaves of copper and gold.

The sunlight pouring through these oak leaves caused them to glow like embers.

While gazing into the woods, I was startled to notice a pair of Pileated Woodpeckers flying about in the treetops.  These huge birds both landed on this trunk and began to explore its bark for the presence of insect infestation.  They were so hurried as they went about their task of circling the trunk, it was difficult to find both birds in view at once.  I cannot verify if the two birds in these next two photos were two different birds  or simply one that came briefly into view while the other remained hidden. 

But I did get a photo of one appearing on either side of the trunk.

At the very north end of the bay lies a stretch we have come to call "the Odonata Shore," its sun-warmed sand a favorite habitat of the many dragonflies and damselflies that congregate here in abundant numbers.

There were at least 6 or 7 Autumn Meadowhawk Dragonflies resting on this fallen log before I could draw close enough to take a photo of them. At least this one stayed long enough for the picture-taking.

This photo, displaying wide areas of damp mucky sand that once was underwater, demonstrates how far the water has retreated lately.

For the final stretch of my walk around the bay, I climbed the banks from the beach to this tree-lined trail, where the afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows across my path.  

That low sunlight also ignited these Witch Hazel flowers, revealing their starry beauty against the deepening shadows of the woods.

Here's a closer view of the Witch Hazel flowers, its ribbon-like petals fully expanded on this lovely warm afternoon. On colder days well into the fall, the petals will curl up tight until they stretch out again to bask in whatever of the sun's warmth returns. I pressed this cluster of wide-open blooms close to my nose, where I could detect their faint but delightful fragrance, a scent that reminds me of the smell of clean laundry dried outdoors in the sunlight and fresh air.

Taking the Healing Waters and Breathing the Healing Air

 Well, darn it all!  I'd thought the threat of Covid was basically over, but just to be safe I got both a Covid vaccine and a flu shot on Sunday, October 18.  When I started to feel achy and tired the following Tuesday, I thought it might be a reaction to the shots.  But then I felt worse on Wednesday, with a stuffy nose and dry cough, followed by chills and shakes and abject fatigue on Thursday, with sudden loss of sense of smell and taste. Uh oh!  Got Covid test. Proved positive. Luckily, there's a medicine called Paxlovid that moderates the direst symptoms, and so it did. After five days on Paxlovid, my sense of smell returned, and by Thursday, Oct. 29, a new Covid test showed no more virus remained enough to detect. But I still felt kind of sickly, so tired I just wanted to go back to bed. 

But oh, the day was warm and bright.  Maybe a brief walk outdoors in the fresh air and sunshine would be more reviving than another nap. And lucky for me, I live in Saratoga Springs, a city famous for its mineral springs that are famous for promoting health.  So off to Saratoga Spa State Park I went.  A walk along the turbulent Geyser Creek and some quaffs of the mineral-rich spring waters there should help me feel much better.

The trail along the rushing creek looked very inviting, with colorful autumn foliage brightening the banks, and the Island Spouter atop its mound of mineral accretions was sending its sparkling spray skyward. The name "Geyser Creek" was no doubt inspired by the mineral-water spring that spouts from the center of this island, an enormous limey accretion called a "tufa." But this is not, in fact, a geyser, since geysers obtain their energy from geothermal heat. Better referred to as a "spouter," this skyward-shooting spring obtains its energy from a subterranean buildup of carbon dioxide gasses. The water is quite cold all year. And of course, it is "carbonated," too, nearly as bubbly as seltzer water.

There are signs posted along the creek that explain the geology of the mineral waters that flow from springs here:

There is genuine scientific evidence that turbulent waters like a waterfall or crashing waves or a rushing creek or a spritzing spouter can help to promote good health.  Somehow, the tossing of droplets into the air creates a negative ionization in the air that has been demonstrated to enhance not only our feelings of well-being, but to also improve our body's immune system in measurable ways. I made a conscious effort to fill my lungs fully as I walked along the creek.

An even larger dome of mineral deposits lay just a bit further upstream, caused by the waters that spout from Orenda Spring high up on the bluff.

This creekside trail ends where the Geyser Creek flows through a culvert.  More rushing water here.  I stopped and took some deep breaths of the negatively ionized air at this site before climbing a steep stairway up the hillside, to where I knew I would find the Orenda Spring.

It was here that I filled a cup and drank deeply of the cold sparkling waters of the Orenda Spring. 

The word "Orenda" means a divine force believed by the Iroquois people to be the source of all positive human accomplishment.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if all the peoples of the world could be so transformed by drinking the waters of this spring?  One could only hope! Especially during this time of political contentiousness and genuine danger to our nation and its people.

And may that divine force help me to fully recover from the weakening effects of this illness.   I do believe I feel better already.

Autumn Variations

The intensity of autumn color sure varies from year to year.  These next three photos from a blog I posted back in 2023 appeared in my Facebook Memories yesterday.  All three were taken on the Hudson River, above and below the Spier Falls Dam.  2023 sure was a great year for fabulous foliage color!

This rocky outcropping juts into the Hudson where a forested slope of the Palmertown Mountains falls directly to the waterside.

This tiny islet adorned with brilliantly scarlet Black Huckleberry shrubs lies mid-river just off the Sherman Island Boat Launch Site, along Spier Falls Road:

Here's another of a trio of mid-river islets that lie just off the boat-launch site, its foliage colors (and those on the riverside mountain slopes) burnished by golden sunshine and rendered even more beautiful by rippling reflections.

The day was equally sunny yesterday (10/19/26), so that was my cue to hurry over to visit the Hudson River along Spier Falls Road to see if the foliage colors were equally vibrant this year.

Well, not quite. But the mirror-still river beneath a clear blue sky beautifully reflected the beauty of the riverside forested mountains as they were.

I often pull over along the road to gaze at my favorite view of this part of the Hudson, where small islets lie midstream, and a series of receding mountain slopes define the curves of the river. The scene still looked quite lovely, if not as dramatically colorful as it sometimes appears on other autumns.

 

As it happened, this young couple also pulled over while driving along Spier Falls Road, in order to view this lovely Hudson River scene. Their names were Ben and Andreina, and they were visiting the area from their home downstate.  I was delighted to take their photo using Ben's phone and also this one with my camera, and they were happy to have me do so.  I hope they enjoyed their journey through the rest of our beautiful region.

Our Own Saratoga Mushroom Day!

The Split-gill Fungus (Schizophyllum commune), one of the amazing mushrooms worth celebrating on National Mushroom Day.

I did not realize that yesterday (10/15) was National Mushroom Day, but I sure was observing it (even if unaware of it being this special day) by enjoying the many, many mushrooms my friend Sue and I were finding along the trails at the Rowland Hollow Creek Preserve in Saratoga Springs.  This preserve consists of 45 acres of woods and wetlands surrounding the Rowland Hollow Creek and is part of an innovative conservation subdivision project in conjunction with an adjacent housing development and Saratoga PLAN (Preserving Land And Nature). This combination of development and preservation created a wonderful opportunity for people to live, recreate, and enjoy their natural surroundings, while protecting vital natural resources.  I am slated to lead a walk here next week for our friends in the Thursday Naturalists, so I always like to have some sense of what we might find.  And boy, did we find a LOT of fungi!  

We also found other interesting natural things along the trails, but since we are celebrating mushrooms on this post, I will post only the fungi here, in alphabetical order (according to vernacular name, unless I don't know it for that species) : 

Blue Stain Fungus (Chlorociboria aeruginascens)

We usually see only the blue stains on the rotting wood of fallen trees, either hardwoods or conifers. But once in a while, we do find these bright-aqua fruiting bodies, a delightful surprise!

Caramel-colored cluster of small mushrooms (species unknown)

To properly ID a mushroom, I'd have to dismantle it to explore how the stalk is attached, etc., or make a spore print, among other operations. But I was content just to admire how pretty these mushrooms looked, all in a row.

Crimped-gill Fungus (Plicaturopsis crinita), caps

Crimped-gill Fungus (Plicaturopsis crinita), crimped gills

This is a mushroom that definitely lives up to its name!

Fan-shaped Orange Jelly (Dacryopinax spathularia)

Another fungus with a name that fits: it's orange, kind of jelly-like, and somewhat fan-shaped.

Jelly Dots (Helicogloea compressa)

I have never found any vernacular name listed for this tiny slimy fungus, so I made this one up: Jelly Dots!

Lemon Drops (Calycina citrina)

Lemon Drops is a good name for this fungus found nearly year-round on rotting stumps.  But so is Fairy Cups, another name for it.

Multiclavula mucida (White Green-algae Coral)

Note the green algae these tiny spiky coral fungi are sprouting out of.  This fungus depends on that algae for its existence.

Lumpy Bracket (Trametes gibbosa), top

Lumpy Bracket, gills

I thought this might be Oak Maze-gill at first, but my friend Sue learned from the experts at iNaturalist that it was Lumpy Bracket instead.

Orange Jelly Fungus (Dacrymyces palmatus)

I am never sure whether this is Orange Jelly or Witch's Butter, since one grows on hardwoods and the other grows on conifers, and the rotting twigs I find it on usually offer few clues as to their species. My mushroom guide (George Barron's) suggests that Witch's Butter is less likely to be found this far east.

Shrimp of the Woods (Entoloma abortivum)

This mushroom that looks like a glob of dough (and thus does not look very appetizing) is said to be one of the most delicious of all the fungi. It is actually a "mummy mushroom" that has been parasitized by the fungus Entoloma abortivum, which will parasitize other mushrooms, especially the Honey Mushroom (Armillaria mellea), creating these shapeless blobs that are sometimes called Shrimp Fungi.

Small mushrooms (one orange, four tan), very cute, but species unknown. I was content to adore them without having to take them apart to try and ID them.

Split-gill Fungus (Schizophyllum commune), gills

Split-gill Fungus, caps

 Now that I know this mushroom's name and have learned something about it,  I do believe that this fungus could be called the "Easter Fungus," replacing the Bunny as a symbol of resurrection and fecundity. The Split-gill Fungus possesses the amazing property of being able to dry out completely and then rehydrate to keep functioning sexually time and time again.  It is one of the sexiest organisms imaginable, with at least 28,000 different sexes, according to mycologists' calculations.  The process is too complicated for me to repeat in my blog, but you could find more information about this on Google. I find this fungus frequently in woods all around Saratoga County.

Stereum (species unknown)

I often find various species of Stereum fungi in my woods walks. All are very thin and flexible, with no obvious spore-producing organs on their fertile surfaces. But they certainly are prolific, often occurring in masses that cover rotting logs.  And most are as striped and colorful as this one.

Variable Oysterling (Crepidotus variabilis) -- maybe?

I admit I am only guessing about the name of this species, since most guides mention how small that species is, and some of these were at least an inch across.  But every other detail fit.  This is from George Barron's guide:  "Fan-shaped with an inrolled margin, shelving, laterally attached, and fragile. Gills are well-spaced and white, ageing brown. Stalks are absent."  Any mycologists out there who can help confirm this species?

Violet-toothed Polypore (Trichaptum biforme)

This is one of the most common mushrooms in the woods I regularly haunt. Sometimes it covers large areas of standing trees, and it persists for several years, its  cinnamon-brown "teeth" opening up to look more like pores, and its purple rims fading to colorless as its flexible caps harden. Old caps often play host to green algae, which provides the proper habitat for another fungus called "Fairy Pins," so small you almost need a magnifier to see them.  It's seldom we see so purple a margin on this mushroom.  This must be a youngish one. My friends and I truly love this mushroom. I'm glad we could find a nice young population on this National Mushroom Day.

Here's one of my favorite photos of Violet-toothed Polypore, taken last April.  Aren't mushrooms amazing?  I'm glad there's a day set aside for celebrating them.