A Misty Morning Ramble Around Lake Moreau's Back Bay

I suppose some folks might have thought it wasn't the nicest day for a walk.  It was cool and it rained a bit now and then.  But Moreau Lake is lovely, whatever the weather, and the wind was calm so the still water of the lake's back bay offered a nearly perfect reflection of the mountains that rise to the west. And the mist that shrouded the mountain tops only added to the quiet beauty of the scene.

Happily, a number of my friends in our Thursday Naturalists group were not dissuaded by the rain-dampened day, and we set off to circle the lake's back bay, crossing the fishing bridge to follow the trail that divides the bay from the main lake and continuing around the bay in a counter-clockwise direction.

Of course, as we walked we often paused, surrounded by the bright spring-green of the forest's new leaves. I believe that some of our friends were here admiring the dangling flowers of a trailside Striped Maple tree.

The misty light of this gray day almost seemed to amplify the colors of wildflowers along the trail.  The dangling scarlet blooms of this Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis) glowed almost neon-bright.

So did the raindrop-spangled blooms of the Fringed Polygala (Polygaloides paucifolia) that carpeted wide areas of the woods.

Highbush Blueberry shrubs (Vaccinium corymbosum) were hung with clusters of small white bells.

We were delighted to find an abundant patch of Perfoliate Bellworts (Uvularia perfoliata) dangling pale-yellow blooms on slender stems that appeared to pierce their leaves.

Starflower!  What a perfectly descriptive name for this lovely native wildflower (Lysimachia borealis).

I hope I can remember to return to taste the fruit of the many Wild Strawberry plants (Fragaria virginiana) that thrived along the path. Usually, though, the birds and other woodland creatures get there before I do!

The vivid purple of Ovate-leaved Violets (Viola fimbriatula) made them easy to spot on wooded trailside banks. Another vernacular name for this is Northern Downy Violet, suggested by the downy hairs that cover leaves and stems of this native wild violet.

Wild Sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis) bears its orbs of tiny whitish flowers on separate stalks from the stalk of its over-towering leaves. 

We were pleased to find many trees bearing flowers today, and low enough that we could easily enjoy their beauty. The flowers of this young Sassafras tree (Sassafras albidum) were not quite open, but the pale yellow of their blooms was lovely.

The flowers of Striped Maple (Acer pensylvanicum) dangle down in long clusters of small greenish florets, reminding me of the dangling ornaments in a Japanese geisha's elaborate hairdo.

The pale color and rounded lobes of these small leaves cause me to think they are those of Swamp White Oak (Quercus bicolor), from a tree that is mature enough to bear strings of flowers. This twig was lying on the path, perhaps severed by a Red Squirrel clearing its highways through the treetops.

These dangling clusters of rosy-colored Red Maple seeds (Acer rubrum) were just as lovely as any flowers.

These baby Red Oak leaves (Quercus rubra) were deeply scarlet and spangled with tiny rain drops. Many young leaves of both woody and herbaceous plants are colored red by the presence of a chemical pigment called anthocyanin.  This pigment serves to prevent the tender young leaves from being damaged by strong sunlight.

These equally rain-spangled baby leaves of a White Oak (Quercus alba) are also tinged with red, for the same reason the Red Oak leaves were.

More rain-spangled leaves, but these all green, not tinged with red, and held as erect as candle flames. This multi-leaved cluster belonged to a young Sassafras tree (Sassafras albidum), which I ascertained by nibbling a twig and tasting its sweet flavor, somewhat resembling that of Juicy Fruit gum.

I wonder if this Twelve-spotted Ladybug (Coleomegilla maculata) was also enjoying the Juicy Fruit flavor of the Sassafras leaf.  But then I read that these native ladybugs are beneficial insects, feeding primarily on aphids and other plant pests, not on the leaves. I did not see any aphids on these Sassafras leaves, only several of the ladybugs hiding within the leaf cluster.  Maybe they were just taking shelter from the rain. 

Here was a tiny cluster of slightly curving slender green leaves I was hoping to find today. They belong to the Small-flowered Dwarf Bulrush (Cyperus subsquarrosus), an Endangered species that actually grows by the thousands on the sandy and pebbly shore of Moreau Lake.  I sometimes wonder if this plant might not be as rare as depicted, simply overlooked, since the entire leaf cluster could be covered by a half dollar. The leaves shrivel and disappear in late fall, so I was delighted to find them emerging again in spring.

I was surprised we did not find much in the way of fungi today, considering how much rain we have had this week.  But the ones we DID find were certainly fascinating.  This glossy heap of Black Witches' Butter (Exidia nigricans) looked especially photogenic while underlaid by the pale-green patch of a foliose lichen.

These tiny baby-blue growths on our path caused us to halt our striding, since none of us had ever seen this before, and a few of us are not exactly neophytes in fungus knowledge. 

This fungus was so small it was hard for my camera to get a clear photo of it.  This photo below was the best it could do. Joining the tiny blue puffs were some tan ones as well.

My friend Sue got better photos she could submit to iNaturalist, where contributors identified it as a stage of a fungus called Chromelosporiopsis coerulescens.  I could not find much further information about it, other than that "young spore-producing structures (synnemata) are white or blue, and will become rosy pink, and finally mature to ocher."  Quite I find!  I guess.

Here my friends are peering at a large beaver lodge, and I am aware that we are only halfway around the back bay and my knee pain is suggesting maybe I should go back to my car.  But halfway back is just as far as halfway forward.  So onward I persisted. While limping.

I am glad I persisted, in order to join my friends to picnic later at a table on Lake Moreau's beach.  That's where we met one of Sue's friends she calls "bug guy," and for a good reason. This person (his real name is Alex) is a whiz at finding cool bugs, including this Eyed Click Beetle (Alaus oculatus), which he shared with us while we sat at our picnic table -- and demonstrated how it got the name "Click" Beetle.

A perfectly harmless (to humans) insect, it makes a clicking sound when it flips.  A Click Beetle possesses a spine-like structure as well as a notch under its thorax. When the spine is released from the notch, it snaps and propels itself into the air, with a clicking sound we could definitely hear as Alex demonstrated this action several times. This strategy is probably its way to either escape from or deter any predators.  And it also served as a source of wonder and delight as we ended our adventure on this marvelously pleasant day. (Despite the occasional rain.)