Some Photos, Just for the Record

Well, we got the snow and cold I was wishing for in my last post 12 days ago. Plenty of snow and definitely sub-zero temps.  As a winter-lover, I should have been out every day. But I'll be honest.  I just wasn't into celebration, whether of nature's winter beauty or anything else, my heart so heavy with anger, sorrow, and fear for my country. Murderous thugs mob our nation's streets, and our President and his lying toadies urge them on, with claims that belie what our own eyes and ears can can plainly see and hear, thanks to the brave bystanders who have documented the horrible truth. Some losing their lives to do so.

I did go out and I did take some photos, but my mind was otherwise distracted and could not concentrate on blogging.  But just for the record, I'm posting those photos here.  At some point later, I might just want to look back at these dates and places to learn what nature was doing while my troubled thoughts were elsewhere.

Zen Brook at Moreau Lake State Park, January 14

My friend Sue Pierce and I refer to the brook that tumbles down a mountainside here as "Zen Brook," acknowledging the peaceful and meditative mood we enter as we listen to its babbling stream. On previous visits this winter, the watercourse had been dry, but recent rains and warming temps had managed to restore its soothing music.

Even in the deepest cold of winter, we find much of botanical interest in the beautiful green mosses and liverworts that thrive unimpaired on the splash-dampened creekside boulders. Here, Sue is taking some macro photos of one of the liverworts.

I will have to ask Sue what name she knew this one by. I know it's a liverwort, anyway.

Some fungi persist through the winter, too, and this rotting tree stump was home to several of them.

These bright-yellow tiny cups are the fungus called Lemon Drops or Fairy Cups (Bisporella citrina), a very common species we find all year around on rotting wood.

On this same stump, I noticed these patches of a deep-pink fungus that looked as if someone had daubed pink paint on the rotting wood.  I need to ask Sue what species they belong to.  I'm sure she posted them on iNaturalist, so she will know their name.  I had never seen this one before.

I do know the name of this fungus, the pale-tan caps of which were crowding the length of a nearby  rotting log: Luminescent Panellus (Panellus stipticus). This wood-dwelling fungus earned its descriptive vernacular name by actually glowing in the dark.  I have never witnessed this trait myself, but every one of my mushroom guidebooks mentions it.  This mushroom's specific name, stipticus, was possibly suggested by its reputed ability to staunch bloodflow from wounds.

The frosted tan caps of this fungus is not all that distinctive, but the way its gills radiate from an off-center, very short curving stalk certainly is.

Big Bend Trail at Moreau Lake State Park, January 20

The brisk wind of this bitterly cold day might have kept me snug indoors, if my friend Sue had not urged me to join her on the easily walkable trail at this recently opened preserve. It is an attractive trail, with views of mountains rising beyond the Hudson, and several wooded swamps and ponds along the way. How could I resist?

We sure had to bundle up to enjoy it, though! I think Sue's glasses have frosted over here.

Only a few little cottony clouds impeded the sun's warming rays.  Kind of.

This photo shows how the wind was whipping the stalks of Phragmites and the fluffy split pods of the Cattails.

We headed out onto the solidly frozen snow-covered ice of one of the ponds that line this trail. Would we encounter the determined creature (a fox?) who loped straight across the pond?

We never did see any more sign of a fox, but the distinctive curving trails of several foot-dragging White-tail Deer encouraged us to follow where they were heading.

All deer trails led to the interior of a Phragmites thicket, which must have offered some cozy shelter to the deer.

The trail of this mouse was quite distinctive, indicating the little creature's hopping gait as it dragged along its long tail. 

We always enjoy trying to ID the winter remnants of plants that persist throughout the winter. The star-topped stone-hard pods of Maleberry fruits (Lyonia ligustrina) are among the easiest to recognize.

 

In the sandy meadows, we found many dried remains of Round-headed Bush Clover (Lespedeza capitata). I discovered that if I boosted the exposure of my photos, I could eliminate the distracting shadows of the snowy background, while still preserving the structure of the plant remnants.

That exposure-boosting technique also worked well for capturing just the beauty of a Goldenrod plume.

We didn't need to see the blue flowers to recognize the candleabra shape of these Blue Vervain (Verbena hastata) flower heads.