Back on the Hudson Again!

Ah, to be back on the beautiful Hudson River again!   With the water lying mirror-still and the forested mountains like deep-green cliffs rising steeply from the banks!  And even better, to be paddling with my dear friend Ruth Brooks, and for two gorgeous days in a row, this past weekend. When we put in at the Sherman Island Boat Launch on Sunday, we even had the river all to ourselves.  What a paddler's dream!

This was my first paddle of the year, since for weeks earlier, the river had been so rowdy from rain and raging with boat-bashing flotsam I'd not dared to venture out on it with my tiny canoe.  But all was serene at last.  And after I heard reports of Early Azalea blooming now on that little island I am heading toward in this photo below,  nothing was going to keep me off the river any longer.  And nothing did.

Even before we reached the island, the clove-like scent of Early Azalea (Rhododendron prinophyllum) wafted across the water to beckon us.  And then, to wander among the many flowering shrubs dotting this rocky island was my idea of Heaven, the radiantly pink flowers still gorgeous and fragrant even as they begin to decline.

Other flowers, like Black Huckleberry and Dewberry, also thrive on this little island, and this beautiful Viceroy Butterfly came floating in to seek their nectar.  Viceroys are easily mistaken for Monarchs because their colors and markings are so similar, but the bars that cross the hindwing stripes are a definitive fieldmark of the Viceroy.

We had to step carefully to avoid crushing the low-growing flowers like these bright-yellow Small Sundrops (Oenothera perennis) and dainty sky-blue Bluets (Houstonia caerulea).

These Meadowsweet plants (Spiraea alba var. latifolia) had yet to produce their pretty clusters of tiny pink-tinged white florets, but their finely toothed leaves had a beauty all their own.

We next set off to explore the riverbanks in this catchment between the Sherman Island and Spier Falls dams.  Unlike many other boaters arriving now and charging down the center of the river, we slowly edged as close as we dared to the shoreline bedrock, delighting in the many wildflowers and lush green mosses that thrive atop the ledges and within the cracks in the rocks. 

Here were more Bluets, plus a tuft of the starry white flowers of Canada Mayflower (Maianthemum canadense) and the ruffly green leaves of Tall Meadow Rue (Thalictrum pubescens).

This Black Huckleberry shrub (Gaylussacia baccata) dangled its flower-heavy branches over the water.

Before we ended our paddle, we made sure to re-visit this tiny cove, where last fall we had found some very interesting mosses growing right under the shallow water.

The first one we found (perhaps Fontanalis antipyretica?) had long stems that spread across the sandy bottom.

The second underwater moss had shorter stems and it clung very tightly to the rocks it was growing on. Ruth believed it might be Fissidens fontanus, a species quite rare around here, but pinning down mosses as to their species often requires microscopic examination.  And we did not have a microscope with us in our canoes.

Ruth did have her cellphone, however, and here she was searching among the botanical resources she could access through her phone.  The mosses remained a mystery, though, until she could examine them microscopically and confer with some folks who are expert at moss IDs. But even if we couldn't pin a name on our underwater mosses right then, it sure was fun to find them.

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We had such a wonderful time on Sunday, we agreed to return to the Hudson on Monday.  But this time we launched our canoes quite a bit further downstream, in an area above the Sherman Island Dam where the river flows back behind a large island and in and around a number of promontories. Once again, the river lay mirror-still beneath a bright-blue sky, reflecting the beautiful contours of the rocky shoreline.

Although the day was hot, here we could pass beneath the cool shade of cedars leaning over steep banks.

I used to always find an ample patch of Lance-leaved Violets (Viola lanceolata) tucked in among these rocky banks, and I was delighted to discover that those violets still thrived here.

Many of our violet species have finished blooming by now, but these Marsh Blue Violets (Viola cucculata) still held vivid purple blooms high above their heart-shaped leaves.

I remember gathering handfuls of juicy blueberries from the Lowbush Blueberry shrubs (Vaccinium spp.) that grow close to the water here, and I was pleased to note that it looks as if there will be an abundant crop again this year.

The flowers of Black Chokeberry (Aronia melanocarpa) are quite lovely, and the shiny black fruits are also attractive, later. But the bitter-tasting fruit reveals how this species might have acquired its vernacular name!

The fruits of these Wintergreen plants (Gaultheria procumbens) are much more pleasant to taste, and the bright-red berries are also attractive when they form later in the summer.  But these red-tinged new leaves are already quite beautiful.

As we paddled in and out of the series of coves that mark this section of riverbank, we were struck by how many huge trees have been toppled by windstorms that raged through here several years ago.  And when these shallow-rooted trees fell, they also peeled all the soil away from the rocks the trees had grown on.

I used to call this Three-pine Island, but alas, two of those three pines now lie uprooted across the bedrock.

And what the wind hasn't brought down, the beavers are trying to finish.  The marshy area behind what I once called Three-pine Island remains lined with towering Black Tupelo trees (Nyssa sylvatica).  But most have had their bark girdled by beavers, and many are already dead.  It amazes me, though, how many of them still leaf out and still produce fruit, despite what should have been mortal damage to the trees' vascular system. This photo reveals the beaver damage to the trunk, but also the seemingly healthy abundance of leaves that still sprout from the twigs.  I also found many flower buds among these branches, staminate and pistillate flowers on separate trees.

That many healthy pines still grow abundantly along these shores was made evident by the yellow pollen filming the water's surface. The swirling current and rippling wavelets created interesting patterns in the pollen.

We were mesmerized as we sat in our boats, watching Whirlygig Beetles move through the pollen film, their every movement recorded in dark lines traced through the film.

I like to think those beetles were writing an invitation to us to come back anytime.  And of course, I will!