Sunday, March 17, 2024

Finds of the Fault Line and Forest Floor

'Twas a good day for the wearin' o' the green!  So what better day than St. Patrick's Day to visit the woods at Skidmore College, where the forest floor is paved with calcareous boulders covered with moss as green as any moss that grows on the Emerald Isle!


The Skidmore campus lies right along the geological fault that brought all the mineral springs to the city of Saratoga Springs and also paved the college's 200-acre woods with limestone and chert-embedded dolomite rocks.  One might think that dry, hard rocks would not be hospitable as a home for growing plants, but here it is obvious that many mosses, liverworts, and lichens just adore it atop these rocks!  As do some ferns and a few flowering plants.  I came here today to see if any of the flowering plants were actually blooming yet.




The mosses, liverworts, and lichens were certainly looking happy.  And many of these organisms happily shared their rocks with one another, as this brown Dog Lichen-embedded, green Poodle Moss-carpeted boulder displayed.




This rock that was almost completely covered with Porella liverwort made room for a bit of Hedwigia moss.




Some fluffy clumps of Wind-swept Broom Moss clung to chunks of pale-gray rock.




And this gorgeous patch of Baby-tooth Moss is so happy here, it has produced just scads of spore stalks.



A very few flowering plants prefer the stony habitat of a rock's surface, but that's exactly where I go to look for the earliest Hepaticas, both Round-lobed and Sharp-lobed, that will soon be blooming here.  They are actually rooted within the cracks of the rocks, while spreading their leaves across the surface.  Hepatica's leaves persist intact throughout the winter, which makes them easy to find once the snow is gone from the forest floor. And some of their leaves, such as these of this Sharp-lobed Hepatica, have turned a deep purplish brown color. 



I peek beneath those leaves to espy these furry flower buds unfurling, just about ready to poke their faces above their leafy cover.




Oh! Oh! Oh!  Here, the flower buds have not only emerged from beneath some mottled-green Round-lobed Hepatica leaves, but their furry bud scales have opened to reveal the pale-purple sepals within!


These flower buds were so open, I could peer into the flowers, where the anthers were already preparing to protrude.

Just a few more warm days, and Hepaticas of all the colors they come in -- from sparkling white or pale pink or bright blue to pale lavender to deep purple and even to deep magenta -- will be adorning the forest floor with one of our prettiest as well as one of our earliest-to-bloom native spring wildflowers.


And then there were the fungi.  All that I found today had fruited last fall but persisted virtually unchanged throughout the winter. Here's just a sampling:

The caps of Split-gill Fungus (Schizophyllum commune) seem to grow fur over the winter.


I turn the Split-gill Fungus over to observe the split gills that suggested this amazing fungus's name.


Split-gill Fungus is considered the most widespread mushroom in the whole world, and one with the amazing property of being able to dry out completely and then rehydrate to keep functioning sexually time and time again. Found on every continent except Antarctica (where there's no rotting wood for it to grow on), the Split-gill Fungus is one of the most studied mushrooms on earth, according to Tom Volk, author of the wonderfully informative mushroom site, TomVolkFungi.net.  Mr. Volk featured this mushroom in  a Valentine's Day tribute to 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 my readers can learn all about it (plus lots of other fascinating facts) by going directly to Mr. Volk's site.  Just click HERE and prepare to be amazed.


The striped caps of False Turkey Tail (Stereum ostrea) are just as beautifully colored now as when they first sprouted last fall. They can be distinguished from the real Turkey Tails by the lack of pores on the fertile surface of the caps.




We are most likely to see the rubbery brown caps of Amber Jelly Roll Fungus (Exidia recisa) on the forest floor in spring, after winter winds or ice have brought down the dead tree limbs they've grown on.




This abundant patch of Asian Beauty (Radulomyces coplandii) was so broad I failed to recognize it at first.  In the few times I have come across it before, it has always fruited in narrow strips sprouting from cracks in dead wood.  In this case, it was occupying a large chunk of peeling-away bark of a fallen tree.


Asian Beauty is thought of as relatively recent introduction to North America, having shown up only about a decade ago. Today, it has been reported from more and more places. That has definitely been my own experience, too.  It certainly produces lots and lots of spores on the slender teeth that protrude and point downward. But is it an invasive introduction?  Here's an interesting video that discusses this possibility.



Near where I have parked my car,  the edge of the geologic fault is readily observable, as the terrain falls steeply off with a series of rocky ledges.  In just a few weeks, these moss-covered ledges will be adorned with many spring wildflowers, such as Long-spurred Violets, Columbine, and Early Meadow Rue.



Meanwhile, these ledges are not without botanical interest and beauty.  I love the curvaceous and delicate-looking fronds of Maidenhair Spleenwort that emerge from deep cracks in the rock.



Another ledge-clinging plant is this little native geranium called Herb Robert, which prefers to spring from patches of cushioning moss.  These leaves have been green all winter and some show signs of how freezing can tatter them a bit.  But they will soon be replaced by new leaves as well as small pink flowers.


Readers may note that I sometimes add scientific names to the vernacular names I have called these plants and fungi.  And sometimes I do not.  More and more, I am discovering that the scientific names in my old wildflower, bryophyte, and mushroom guides are out of date.  OK, so be it.  But I can't keep up.  Happily, the vernacular names have usually stayed the same ones I have known for most of my life. Most folks know those names, too.  If I fail to include a scientific name and you want to know it, just google the vernacular name and you will probably find the most up-to-date scientific one. As I near 82 years old, I myself no longer care about being au courant!


2 comments:

The Furry Gnome said...

I can't believe you have Hepatica unfurling already! And you certainly know your mosses and fungi I wish I'd learned to identify more of those when I could still be out exploring.

Woody Meristem said...

Most of your readers don't care about the scientific names of the plants you find. It sometimes seems that scientific names change as often as banks change their names as the plants' relationships are more closely determined. Of course birds' common names are about to undergo a similar revolution. As another elder and a grumpy old man I say "Bah Humbug!"