Milkworts and Orchids -- and MORE! -- Along the Powerlines

Daniels Road State Forest lies just north of the city of Saratoga Springs, and it's much better known to bikers than it is to us botanizers.  Many marvelous bike trails wend through the woods at this site, but I and my nature-nut friends are instead drawn here to discover the many interesting plants that thrive in the sunlight under some powerlines that run for miles in each direction.  

Here my friends Tom and Sue explore the lines running west.  Sue probably has a bug in her camera viewfinder, for she has become quite a passionate (and patient!) photographer of these fascinating but camera-shy creatures.

These are the lines running east, with clear views all the way to Vermont and its distant mountains.

Milkworts and Orchids Abound!

I first came to this site just one year ago, when my pal Dan Wall told me I'd find incredible numbers of Purple Milkworts (Polygala [now Senega] sanguinea) growing here, just steps from the parking area.  And boy, he sure wasn't kidding!  There were so many, I could hardly avoid stepping on them.

What beautiful flowers, the vivid purple bracts encasing tiny bouquets of multicolored miniature florets.

My last year's visit was later in September than my return this past week, and I'm wondering if the Purple Milkwort blooms I found this time will eventually turn more pinkish than the blue-purple they appear this year.  I also witnessed their blooms this past week much earlier in the day after a chilly night, and the flowers were still spangled with morning dew.

I don't find Purple Milkworts very often, but certainly more frequently than I find our native fall-blooming orchid called Yellow Ladies' Tresses (Spiranthes ochroleuca).  These beauties were in their glory along this powerline, some in full bloom and some still with florets not yet opened. So this orchid show has only just begun!

Here's a closer look at the dainty florets that make up the floral spike of Yellow Ladies' Tresses.

And an even closer look reveals the yellowish throats of the florets that suggested the Yellow (Ochro) part of this orchid's name.  I know it as our latest Ladies' Tresses species to bloom around here.

Some Open-field Finds

Ambling along the sun-warmed powerlines, we enjoyed seeing many meadow-blooming flowers.  The wayside fields were a sea of goldenrods, probably of several species, but I was content to enjoy their beauty without having to know their exact names.  This bumblebee didn't care whose nectar it was imbibing.

At first glance, I might have assumed that these starry white flowers were those of Frostweed Aster (Symphyotricum pilosum), because of the flowers' relatively large size and the plant's open habit of growth.  But wait:  these stems were smooth, not hairy, as the specific name "pilosum" would indicate.  So this aster is likely the hairless variety of S. pilosum called Pringle's Aster: Symphyotrichum pilosum var. pringlei.

Many of the darling little florets of Blue Curls (Trichostema dichotomum) had already dropped off by late morning, but a few still clung to the plants.  I think it is obvious how this Mint-family wildflower acquired its vernacular name!

We found a few plants of Sweet Everlasting (Pseudognaphalium obtusifolium), a native wildflower that often looks as if it were still in bud.  But this is what these florets will look like until the white papery bracts open to spill the seeds.  I love to pinch a floret to release its scent that reminds me of maple syrup.

Occasional plants called Rattlesnake Roots (Nabalus sp.) were dangling a few open white flowers.  Since most of the ones we found today all had at least some three-parted leaves, we assume they were the species called Three-leaved Rattlesnake Root (N. trifoliolatus).

Near the edge of the woods where trees shaded the ground, we found a beautiful patch of Partridgeberry plants (Mitchella repens), their small evergreen ground-hugging leaves studded with bright-red berries.

Out in the open, acres of tawny Little Bluestem Grass (Schizachyrium scoparium) swayed with the breeze, the sunlight twinkling off the fluffy tufts that sprout from its glossy ruddy stems.

Mini-Wetlands Along the Way

As we made our way along the deeply rutted and mostly rocky service lane that follows the gentle dips and rises of the terrain, we occasionally encountered mini-wetlands in the hollows.  The mud was obvious, as was the distinctive vegetation: Cattails, Tearthumb, Water Plantain, Meadowsweet, and other denizens of swampy spots, including abundant numbers of Purple-stemmed Asters, also called (appropriately) Swamp Aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum).

These small swampy spots were also paved with the pretty purple flowers of Slender Agalinis (Agalinis tenuifolia).

Another denizen of these damp soils was this Mint-family plant called Water Horehound (Lycopus americanus), with wreaths of tiny white flowers encircling the stems.

Bunches of Bryophytes

When we return here next week with with our Thursday Naturalist friends, the bryophyte-lovers among us will find much to amuse them.  But even folks who couldn't tell a moss from a mouse could delight in just the sheer beauty of such arrangements as this, of Blue Clubmoss (Diphasiastrum tristachyum), Bristly Haircap Moss (Polytrichum piliferum), and the persistent green leaves of Ovate-leaved Violets (Viola fimbriatula) decorating the trailside rocks.

This spiky green clubmoss (Lycopodium clavatum) has at least two quite descriptive vernacular names: Running Clubmoss (it travels across the ground) and Wolf's Paw (note the furry tips of the branches).

I don't really need to know that the white curly stuff is a Reindeer Lichen or that the green spiky stuff is Haircap Moss (not to mention the scientific names of either) to be awed by the sheer beauty of their combination.

But I do know the name of this green spiky stuff (Selaginella ruprestis or Rock Spikemoss), and I also know (thank you, Ed Miller) that it's not a moss, but rather a kind of plant called a "fern ally." (I think that means it is a vascular plant and can grow in drier habitats than most mosses can. Corrections are welcome!)   This was certainly a dry habitat, atop a sun-baked rock.          

We'll be lucky to have our moss-loving friend Ruth Brooks with us next week, since she is a serious student of bryophytes and can help us put names to some.  But as her posture here indicates, we may have to take some very close looks to see how the organisms differ.  Bring your loupes!

A Couple of Colorful Critters

Looking closely can often reveal all kinds of wonders.  Such as this gorgeously colorful Hooded Brown Owlet Moth caterpillar (Cucullia convexipennis) dining on goldenrod.

Or this red-spotted, yellow-striped, white-dotted American Lady Butterfly larva (Vanessa virginiensis).  I have seen this very species of caterpillar pulling the florets of Everlasting blooms together to create pupation chambers.  Perhaps that's exactly what this one is doing here, since those are Sweet Everlasting flowers,  pulled apart and reassembled and being wrapped with silk. To appreciate what I'm talking about, click this link to see many more examples of American Lady pupation chambers constructed from Everlasting blooms.

Rock Loving Moths Along a Rocky River

While exploring the shores of the Hoosic River last week, I encountered clouds of tiny dust-colored moths mobbing the riverside flowers. I cannot be sure of the moths' species, but I have learned that they belong to a group of moths called Petrophila, which means "rock lover." This is a very appropriate name for moths that frequent the truly rocky shores and shallows of this rushing river, for these moths must have both underwater rocks and rushing water to breed.  The female, clutching an air-bubble against her ventral surface to allow her to breathe, climbs down the surface of a submerged rock and deposits her eggs there. The larvae hatch, feed, and pupate underwater and only resurface as adults. 

Low water this week reveals just how rocky the Hoosic River bottom is, which makes it the perfect habitat for this group of moths whose very name, Petrophila, means they must love rocky sites.

Clouds of the Petrophila moths mob the riverside flowers in late summer, feeding on the pollen and nectar as they prepare to mate and lay eggs on the river's underwater rocks. Dozens of moths nearly overwhelmed this cluster of goldenrod flowers. 

There are probably several species of Petrophila moths that gather along the Hoosic's rocky riverbanks this time of year. These two feeding on Sneezeweed flowers are possibly the Two-banded Petrophila (Petrophila bifascialis). The hind wings of this species have a row of black/metallic spots that make one spider enthusiast theorize that they’re Jumping Spider mimics (viewed from the rear, the spots are supposed to resemble the flat face and eyes of a predatory jumping spider). But as another photo I took reveals, not all rival spiders are intimidated by that resemblance.

This good-sized spider was lurking amid the goldenrod blooms that mobs of tiny Petrophila moths were feeding on. The size, brown color, tapering abdomen, and broad scalloped stripe down its middle suggest to me it could be a Nursery Web Spider, a species that does lie in wait for prey instead of weaving an entrapping web. I have to assume that the spider was also hoping to dine at this site, and not on vegetarian fare! 

To learn lots more fascinating details about this interesting group of moths, be sure to visit this site from the University of Wisconsin.

More Rare Plants. Still There!

Inspired by our success at re-finding rare plants at Moreau Lake State Park last week (see last post),  I decided to see if I could repeat this success regarding a few other rare plants I've found over the years. So off I went this past Sunday to re-visit two separate locations:  The Burl Trail along the Kayaderosseras Creek near Ballston Spa, and Canal Park in Rensselaer County, where the Hoosic River flows into the Hudson below Lock 4 of the Champlain Canal.

The Burl Trail along the Kayaderosseras Creek

The trail here that follows the Kayaderosseras Creek has seen massive changes over the past 12 years. Back in 2012, the state's Department of Transportation, during a flood-control project, denuded, re-shaped, and subsequently reforested the banks of the Kayaderosseras along this stretch.  Although the banks were re-planted with native trees and shrubs, a number of otherwise disjunct plant species were introduced to this location, arriving on the root-balls of the new plantings. 

Although some of those new species were distressingly invasive, I'm wondering if the spectacular Tall Ironweed (Vernonia gigantea) that grows here now could have arrived at this location via that process. Rated as an Endangered species in New York State, this species previously had not been reported from a county anywhere near this one (Saratoga County), until in 2011 I reported finding a single specimen of it growing in a sandplain restoration site some miles away in Wilton. Unfortunately, that plant was subsequently mowed down by road crews, never to reappear. But then I found two specimens of Tall Ironweed along this Burl Trail in 2017.  Would they still be happy here?

Indeed, they sure seem to be!  I once again found both plants of Tall Ironweed along the Burl Trail, right where I first discovered them, and both were beautifully in bloom.  I am delighted to discover that they have persisted at this location now for seven years. 

Here's one of those plants, on the creek side of the trail.

And here's the second one, about 50 yards further along, on the opposite side of the trail.

One of the ways to distinguish this Endangered species of Tall Ironweed from the more common species called New York Ironweed (V. noveboracensis), is to observe the bracts on the flowers' involucres. Although Tall Ironweed's bracts are sharply pointed, they do not extend into long threadlike projections, as do those of the New York Ironweed. Here is my photo of the bracts on the Tall Ironweed involucres:

According to Newcomb's Wildflower Guide, an even more accurate way to distinguish the two species is to dismantle a flower and count the number of florets that make up each flower.  I did dismantle a flower of the specimen I found along the Burl Trail this week, and the 23 florets puts the number well within the limit for Vernonia gigantea, which is 13 to 30 florets.  The distinguishing number of florets for V. noveboraecensis (according to Newcomb) is 30 to 50.

Conclusion: Tall Ironweed continues to persist along the Burl Trail.  So far, anyway, so good!

Canal Park at Lock 4 of the Champlain Canal

Located in Rensselaer County where the Hoosic River joins the Hudson just below Lock 4 of the Champlain Canal, Canal Park is a nature preserve that offers trails that follow both rivers, wend through the woods, and lead down onto an alluvial plain where springtime floodwaters enrich the soil and create a habitat for unusual species of plants.  There are plants that grow here that my naturalist friends and I never find anywhere else we explore. I could see when I arrived at this juncture of the two rivers (Hoosic on the left, canal on the right) that the water levels were low.  This would allow me to explore some areas that would usually be under the water.

In fact, the water in the Hoosic was so low, I could teeter along on the craggy rocks below the shale cliffs that line this river's banks at this site.

Those shale cliffs are exactly the kind of habitat that supports the growth of Provancher's Fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus var. provancheri), rated as a Threatened species in the state and considered by Native Plant Trust to be a very rare endemic of high-pH river shore ledges, restricted to Vermont, New York, Quebec and Ontario.  And sure enough, I did find several in perfect bloom, after finding hundreds of basal rosettes of this fleabane clinging to the shale.  The very fact that the basal leaves persist after blooming is one of the traits that distinguish this variety of fleabane from others of its genus and species.  It also has shorter stems and smaller flowers than do similar fleabanes.

Abundant patches of a second rare plant -- called Creeping Bushclover (Lespedeza repens) -- was thriving below the cliffs, spreading across the rocky shore between the cliffs and the water. Despite its rating as a Rare plant in New York, this sprawling bushclover has found a happy home at Canal Park, growing in several places along both the Hoosic and Hudson shores.

I was delighted that the low water levels allowed me close access to this thriving patch of Creeping Bushclover, so that I could manage to take a photograph of its pretty pink flowers.

As long as I was here at Canal Park, I made a point of seeking out the Green Dragon (Arisaema dracontium) that grows to gigantic size in the floodplain along the Hoosic shore.  Although this is not at all considered a rare plant in our state, neither I nor any other of my naturalist friends has ever found it in our other wanderings except for here.  I felt lucky to find it in beautiful scarlet fruit, and with its big leaves still intact.  These plants were tall enough to reach my hips.

Oh gosh, I almost forgot to visit another really rare plant that grows at Canal Park! This is a globally rare moss called Sieve-tooth Moss (Coscinodon cribrosus) that likes to cling to vertical shale cliffs, an abundant habitat at this park.  Although it occurs nearly world-wide, it is considered critically imperiled in almost every location.  I wonder how it ever ended up on the cliffs along the shores of the Hoosic River at Canal Park? 

Although it appears quite green in my photo above, its silvery tips make it look quite gray from other angles.  When I first saw it clustered on a cliff height, I thought it looked like a colony of sleeping small mice: