Rocking the Waters Among the Bogmats

While my usual paddle-pals Sue and Ruth were off on an Adirondack adventure that I feared might be too strenuous for my aging abilities, I set off last week on what I expected to be an easier paddle: browsing among the bogmats of Lens Lake.  Except that it wasn't so easy, after all.  The wind was actually whipping up whitecaps on this usually placid eastern-Adirondack mountain lake.  Usually, paddling my low-profile Hornbeck canoe is not all that difficult in the wind; most often, I can plow right through quite a bluster without breaking a sweat.  But I was hoping to photograph the many high-summer beauties that flourish among this lake's sphagnum-covered islands, and this was a feat made very difficult with the waves rocking my boat and the wind whipping the bog-plants in and out of focus.  Except for the few I'm posting here, almost all my photos were total blurs. 

I did manage to find a few quiet spots by threading my way among the bog mats, which were edged with multi-color carpets of Sphagnum Moss and crowned with dancing tufts of fluffy Cotton Grass.

Since Large Cranberry vines (Vaccinium macrocarpon) lie close down on the mat, the ripening fruit sat nicely still for the picture-taking.

I could not say the same for the tall flowering stalks of Northern Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea) and Pickerelweed (Pontederia cordata), which were waving around quite wildly. Luckily, the wind stopped just for an instant (as if to catch its breath  to blow even harder!) and SNAP!  Gotcha!

The teeny-tiny flowers of Yellow-flowered Grass (Xyris sp.) grow atop long spindly stalks, which yielded to every puff of the breeze.  I managed to snap a photo of this three-petaled yellow flower by holding tight to its stem.

Luckily, I did not have to grasp the sticky pads of this Round-leaved Sundew (Drosera rotundifolia) to hold them still, thanks to their sturdy structure and low-growing habit. The ruby-red pads were snuggled tightly in among the golden moss, their glistening glue-tipped hairs tempting insects to stop for a taste of what surely looks like nectar.   Except, of course, it isn't! Bugs thus get stuck while the pads curl over them and feed on the hapless creatures.

Here were two of such hapless creatures stuck in a cluster of this equally sticky Spatulate Sundew (Drosera intermedia).  I noticed that these two damselflies, their gossamer wings trapped by the glue-tipped threads of this carnivorous plant, were still struggling to get free.  Which meant they might have a chance to live if I managed to unstick their wings.  I did manage to do just that, and even though their wings appeared to be slightly crumpled, both promptly flew away. (At least, that's what I hoped they did.  It's possible that the rowdy wind just reached in and whipped them both away.)

If I'd arrived at Lens Lake in the early morning, I might have been able to paddle on calmer waters.  But then I probably would have been gone by 3:00 PM, the magic hour at which Marsh St. John's Wort (Hypericum virginicum) opens it lovely pink-satin flowers.  I did pass this particular pair's patch around 2:30, and every bud was still closed tight.  But on my return: Ta Da!  Bloom time!  Right on schedule!

As I paddled back toward my put-in spot, I moved in close to the lakeshore to avoid strong headwinds.  But I still had to reach up and hold this wind-tossed twig of Mountain Holly (Ilex mucronata) steady for the picture-taking. I don't believe there is any berry more beautiful than these.  How to describe this rich-red color? This color appears so super-saturated, these fruits seem to pop right out of the photo.

Before finally landing my boat, I pushed back into a quiet pine-sheltered cove where the water was still enough to give me a clear view of this green-tinted, transparent gelatinous mass suspended underwater. A ray of sunlight caused it to truly glow amid the dark water. This organism is called Ophrydium versatile, and Lens Lake is the first and only body of water I have ever found it in. I find masses of it here every time I visit. 

These masses of transparent greenish jelly are formed by the colonial microscopic single-celled protozoan called Ophrydium versatile, and they can be found all over the world in fresh water.  The individual cells line up side-by-side in the "blob"and attach themselves to a jelly-like substance they secrete.  They are symbiotic with microscopic Chlorella algae that live inside the Ophrydium cells and give the blob its green color.  Over the years of paddling on Lens Lake, I have found masses of it as small as a softball and as large as a bathtub.  I was glad I could find water still enough on this windy day to lay eyes on it once again.