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.

UPDATE, 9/17/24: Returning to lead several nature walks along this same powerline, I found a few other interesting things.  Just to record my findings here this fall, I'm adding their photos and my comments here:

This Lowbush Blueberry shrub (Vaccinium angustifolium) usually blooms in May.  But now it has put out some new flowers, way too late in the season for them to ever produce fruit. I have seen this phenomenon once before, at a different location. I wonder how often this occurs.

What a snaky form for a fungus! And what a lovely shade of purple! So distinctive, you'd think it would be easy to find in my mushroom guides. But it wasn't. Anyone know its name?

Thanks heaps to my friend Dana Stimpson, who told me the name of this beautiful fungus: Violet Coral Fungus (Clavaria zollingeri).

How could I have missed seeing the bright-yellow flowers of Spotted St. John's Wort (Hypericum punctatum) on my two previous explorations along this powerline? Perhaps they were still in bud a week or more ago. I can barely make out with my naked eye the tiny spots on the flowers and buds, but they do show up better in photos.

The dew was still on the grass when I spied dozens of dew-bedecked disc-shaped webs along the trail. A close look revealed that the webs were actually double-deckers, for these were the constructions of the Bowl and Doily Spider (Frontinella pyramitela).  This tiny spider weaves a fairly complex sheet web system consisting of an inverted dome-shaped web, or "bowl," suspended above a horizontal sheet web, or "doily." The spider hangs from the underside of the "bowl," and bites through the web prey that falls down into the non-sticky webbing. This web design allows the spider to survey its prey below the web while remaining above in a protected location.  In this photo, the wee little black-and-white spider can be seen dangling just to the right of the top web.