A Hidden Bog, Abundant Arethusas

Is there any native orchid quite so lovely as this Dragon's Mouth Orchid (Arethusa bulbosa)?  It is quite a rare one, too, listed as a Threatened (S2) species in New York State.  And even if you know where to find them, it's not always that easy to get to where they grow -- as my friends Sue and Ruth and I experienced this past week when we struggled through difficult terrain to reach a hidden Adirondack bog in search of these rare and beautiful orchids.

In another year, Ruth had visited this bog where the Dragon's Mouth Orchids grow, so she knew how to get to it.  And she did warn us that we'd have to work a bit to get there: first, a mile or so hike along an old logging road, then a descent through a swampy forest where we teetered over moss-covered logs to avoid slipping into the ankle-deep mud and pushed through the clawing branches of alder and spruce thickets to finally step out under the sky and onto the sphagnum-cushioned bog mat that ringed this isolated kettle pool. (Don't ask me where it is, for I am sworn to secrecy about its location.)

By the time our exploration of this bog was over, we had counted somewhere around 25 specimens of those gorgeous Dragon's Mouth Orchids.  But the first flower we noticed -- and how could we miss them? -- were the hundreds of scarlet blooms of Northern Pitcher Plants (Sarracenia purpurea) standing tall above the low Leatherleaf shrubs (Chamaedaphne calyculata).

Here's a closer look at one of the Pitcher Plant's vividly lipstick-red flowers.

As it happened, the Pitcher Plant flowers grew so thick,  I happened to brush against one and topple it, breaking its stem in the process.  Of course, I regretted my clumsiness, but at least it gave me a chance to observe the interior of this large bulbous bloom.  I'm not sure how to name the various parts I found in there, except to assume that the floppy yellow-topped structures are probably the stamens. Perhaps the globular structure with the pebbled surface would be the ovary?

Looking around the bog mat, we observed many other plants that are typical denizens of a northern bog.  Notably, there were dozens of rather short Tamarack trees (Larix laricina) and many shrubs of Sheep Laurel (Kalmia angustifolia) bearing their vivid-pink flower buds.

A few of the Sheep Laurel shrubs bore clusters of wide-open blooms.  If you look close, you can see the flower's anthers tucked into tiny niches in the petals, cocked and ready to spring loose and bop a visiting insect, covering it with pollen.

We found lots of evidence of Bog Laurel, too (Kalmia polifolia). Although the flowers had dropped some time ago, in their place were these small apple-red seedpods, each with a long pistillate structure protruding.

The Bog Rosemary shrubs, too, had dropped their flowers and now displayed the pretty pink seedpods typical of their species.  Andromeda polifolia is Bog Rosemary's scientific name.

Bog Buckbean (Menyanthes trifoliata) is a third pod-bearing plant that is typical of this habitat. Although the pods were still green, it was obvious how similar in structure its pods were to those of Bog Laurel and Bog Rosemary.

We felt lucky to discover at least this one single flower of Bog Buckbean still present on its plant.  I know of no other flower of our region that displays such thready structures on its petals. 

I can often detect a spicy, astringent scent when I walk through a northern bog, and I believe that fragrance is emitted by the leathery, orange-fuzz-backed leaves of Labrador Tea (Rhododendron groenlandicum). I have never sniffed any fragrance from its lovely flower clusters, but if I pinch one of its leaves, I discover the source of that delightful scent. The bog we walked this day was redolent of it.

Dotting the sphagnum mat almost everywhere were these light-pink cranberry blooms (Vaccinium sp.), appearing nearly globular because of such strongly reflexed petals.  Their pale color made them quite evident against the dark red of this particular sphagnum, possibly the species called Big Red (Sphagnum magellanicum).  I confess I did not examine these cranberry plants sufficiently well to determine whether they were the Large Cranberry (V. macrocarpon) or the Small Cranberry (V. oxycoccos).

In many areas of the mat, the red sphagnum was mixed with another that was colored a deep gold. The combination reminded me of a Persian carpet.

As we neared the edge of the pond that centered this bog, we could detect the sphagnum mat growing thinner, and we stayed well back to lessen the danger of our plunging through.  But when I spied these bright-yellow  blooms of a bladderwort right at the water's edge, I risked a closer look to see if I could discover its species. I could detect no protruding narrow spur, so that ruled out Common Bladderwort or Horned Bladderwort.  Also, it seemed way too early in the summer for Humped Bladderwort to bloom, and that species usually has tiny flowers.  Could this be the early blooming species called Flat-leaved Bladderwort (Utricularia intermedia)? 

I poked a finger down into the water beneath the bladderwort blooms, and sure enough, there I managed to bring up these distinctive miniature-bottle-brush leaf structures that could only be those belonging to Flat-leaved Bladderwort. (Most other species of bladderwort have no leaves at all, depending on their underwater sucking structures to obtain their nutrients.)

As I mentioned above, we eventually found at least 25 of the blooming Dragon's Mouth Orchids in one limited area of the bog, their vivid hot-pink flowers easy to see as they protruded a foot or so above the sphagnum. We also found the swelling buds of another beautiful bog orchid called Grass Pink (Calopogon tuberosus), as well as the barely-budding stems of another orchid we suspect will be the White Fringed Orchid (Platanthera blephariglottis),  both of which should begin to bloom in another week or two. Luckily, we know other places to find both of those orchids, places that are significantly easier to access than this bog we explored today, as well as being closer to home. We began to grow weary from slogging through sphagnum, and, aware that we still had a challenging walk to reach our cars and then a long drive home, we exited this amazing and beautiful bog.

We halted a moment, though, to marvel at this dragonfly only recently freed from the confines of its larval skin, preparing to take flight as soon as its wings had expanded and dried.

Another delightful find as we made our weary way through the woods was this small patch of Twinflower (Linnaea borealis), each miniature plant dangling a single pair of small pink-striped flowers.

We occasionally had to teeter from hummock to hummock to avoid slipping into the mud. But when I noticed this hummock was covered with the glossy-green liverwort called Bazzania trilobata as well as the pretty vining stems of Creeping Snowberry (Gaultheria hispidula), I chose another hummock to balance my steps.