There's a beautiful stretch of the Hudson River that flows below the Spier Falls Dam, where forested mountains fall directly to the water's edge, and small islands lie just offshore. I have been paddling this stretch for more than 30 years. Back in the early 1990s, I hardly ever met another paddler on the water here, even on the weekends, but that's not the case anymore. Especially on weekends when the weather is fine, the river now beckons many paddlers and motorboats, and I usually choose to avoid swelling that crowd. Ah, but the nicest day last week was on Sunday, and with rainstorms promised nearly every day for the coming week, I doubted I'd want to paddle then. And this was the time the Smaller Purple Fringed Orchids (Platanthera psycodes) should be blooming along these shores. If I wanted to see them flowering this year, the time was NOW!
Sure enough, the parking lot at the boat-launch site was full to overflowing, but when I got on the water, I saw hardly any other boats in sight. Those I did see were out in the middle of the river, and the middle is not where I paddle. I had the shoreline completely to myself as I headed upstream.
I like to creep along as close to the shore as I can move without scraping the bottom of my canoe on underwater rocks. For I'm not here to see how fast and far I can paddle, but rather to see what's blooming among the bedrock and tree roots that line the shore. I was hoping those Purple Fringed Orchids would be among the flowers I'd find today. The tiny little Azure Bluets (Houstonia caerulea) were a sweet surprise.
Well, I didn't find those purple orchids where I'd found them along this shore in other years. I did find lots of other flowers, though. And at first, most of them were yellow. Quite a few plants of Spotted St. John's Wort (Hypericum punctatum) were leaning over the banks. I could even get close enough to their speckled petals to see how this native wildflower might have acquired the descriptive name "spotted." (Or is it the leaves that have spots?)
A second species of St. John's Wort also grew close to the water's edge, the Pale St. John's Wort (Hypericum ellipticum). Which is anything but pale! This wildflower has bright yellow flowers, vibrant orange buds, and seed pods of a brilliant scarlet.
There were other yellow flowers close to the water's edge, including this Yellow Loosestrife (Lysimachia terrestris), which also bears the vernacular name "Swamp Candles."
This next yellow-flowered plant is called Fringed Loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata). To see how this plant acquired the descriptive "fringed" part of its name, you have to look closely at its leaves, not the flowers.
Here's a close-up photo of those fringes (cilia) on the leaf petioles:
So far, I'd found no purple flowers to excite me to take a closer look, but there were a few white ones. The low-growing Wintergreen plants (Gaultheria procumbens) dangled small white bells from the middle of its waxy green leaves.
A thriving patch of Pearly Everlasting (Anaphalis margaritacea) bore clusters of small white flowers atop its dusty-green leafy stalks.
Lovely tufts of pink-tinged white flowers of Meadowsweet (Spiraea alba) leaned out toward the sunlight from shaded banks.
A flower-bedecked vine of Virgin's Bower (Clematis virginiana) sprawled its way among other riverside greenery.
What almost resembled a green-petaled flower atop a stalk of glossy green leaves was actually the beginning of what later will be a cluster of gorgeously blue Closed Gentian flowers (Gentiana clausa).
And these funny little spiky growths are the developing seed pods of what were the yellow flowers of American Bush Honeysuckle (Diervilla lonicera), a native shrub quite abundant along these shores.
Several species of ferns decorate the shady banks of the river, and I found this thick cluster of graceful Long Beech Fern fronds (Phegopteris connectilis) nestled in among rocks particularly beautiful.
Sadly, I was not happy at all to find THIS: a fish hook and bobber dangling on fishing line from an overhanging tree limb. I once managed to free a tiny Wood Duck duckling from just such a dangling hook piercing its soft beak, while its mother desperately tried to lure me away from her darling. So I have witnessed the agony such carelessness can cause for innocent wildlife.
When I reached this steep section of bedrock bank, I believed that any further search for those sought-after orchids along this shore was futile. Any I had found on this side of the river in past years were growing on shore before I reached this site.
Ah, but I once found some Purple Fringed Orchids blooming on the opposite shore from here.
So I turned my canoe around and headed downstream and toward the other bank.
As I approached the opposite shore, my hopes were roused as I spied a pinky-purple spike of bloom tucked in among the Marsh Ferns close to the water. Ignoring the tall Blue Vervains blooming further back among the bulrushes, I moved in for a closer view.
Nope! It was a pretty spike of Steeplebush (Spiraea tomentosa), but not a Purple Fringed Orchid.
But I was glad my desire to investigate that purple spike of bloom had lured me close enough to the shore to discover these tiny Marsh Bellflowers (Campanula aparinoides) nearly hidden among the shoreline greenery. These miniature native wildflowers flowers have such fine stems that they sprawl among the neighboring plants that often hide them from view. I think they are adorable!
It was time to head for home, and as I passed the largest island that lay between me and the parking area, I noticed a patch of Narrow-leaved Mountain Mint (Picnanthemum tenuifolium) growing close to the water. I always have to pinch a few leaves of this exceeding minty-smelling plant to breathe in that fragrance.
Many leafy green stems protruded from the very shallow water that surrounds this island. Several years ago, while observing these plants with noted botanist Nancy Slack, she suspected that these were the species of St. John's Wort called Northern St. John's Wort (Hypericum boreale), but that was never ascertained. Eventually, they will bear 5-petaled flowers typical of that genus, but I was never sure they weren't simply Pale St. John's Worts that had made their way out from shore when the water was low. Someday, I hope to settle this case!
While paddling over this very shallow water, I was delighted to see hundreds of the spiky basal leaves of Northern Pipewort (Eriocaulon aquaticum) decorating the underwater mud.
And guess what? Look what I found at last! A Smaller Purple Fringed Orchid, in full beautiful bloom! It was growing almost exactly where I had found it in previous years, but it only revealed itself where it hid among surrounding plants, now that I approached it from the opposite direction. Who could guess that such a large showy flower could hide so well? I can only hope it may continue to hide from others who may not appreciate our state laws that attempt to protect native orchids.
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