Cliffside Garden

As the Hudson River tumbles all the way from the high peaks of the Adirondacks until it levels off to a less turbulent tidal flow from Troy to the Atlantic, various upstream communities along its course harvest the river's  energy with hydroelectric dams.  I have visited several dams from Corinth to Wilton to South Glens Falls, and it was to the Boralex Hydroelectric facility that spans Baker's Falls in the village of Hudson Falls that I came to visit this past week. Despite significant rainfall this month, little water was plunging over the natural waterfall here.  Perhaps much of the Hudson's flow was being diverted to produce electric power?

There seemed to be plenty of water flowing below Baker's Falls anyway, as the Hudson continued its journey south. With steep forested cliffs lining the river on both banks, the view from here was truly lovely on this picture-perfect summer day.

The geology of this site has been rendered quite apparent as the cliffs were cut through to create the road leading down to the Boralex facility. I have read that these cliffs are primarily constituted of dark-colored fissured rock belonging to Ordovician-Age calcareous shale.

I would love to visit this site with a geologist who could educate me further about the history of these impressive rocks.

Standing beneath these cliffs, we felt awed by their high steep walls.  My friends Tom and Dana accompanied me on this visit.

The rock walls are constantly wetted by dripping springs, delivering high-pH nutrients to the wildflowers growing on the face of the rocks and at the base of the cliffs.  We came here today especially to find the masses of Grass of Parnassus (Parnassia glauca) that abounds here in impressive numbers. And we were certainly not disappointed!

Grass of Parnassus is not a rare flower in New York State, but its need for a wet calcareous habitat make it an unusual wildflower find, if you don't know where to seek it out. I feel lucky to know of two abundant populations of Grass of Parnassus in Saratoga County, both (including this one) on spring-watered shale cliffs along the Hudson River.

Grass of Parnassus has a rather interesting flower.  In addition to the 5 brown-tipped stamens that circle the bulbous green ovary, there are 5 sterile stamens (called staminodes) that each have three prongs (giving the appearance of 15 sterile stamens). At the tip of each prong is a small, glossy-yellow spherical structure that resembles a drop of nectar. These false nectaries, along with the green veins on the petals that act as guides to insects, serve to attract pollinators to visit the flowers.

These spring-dampened cliffs are also home to several other species of native wildflowers, including an abundance of pretty purple flowers called Slender Agalinis (Agalinis tenuifolia).

The flowers of Slender Agalinis are held on long slender pedicels, a feature that distinguishes this species from the very similar-looking but much less common Small-flowered Agalinis,  the flowers of which have very short pedicels.

A third abundant wildflower on these cliffs is Kalm's Lobelia (Lobelia kalmii),  a pretty little native wildflower known to prefer damp calcareous rock.

Although I planned my visit to this site in particular to visit the above-mentioned three wildflower species, I was also delighted to find a patch of Upright Spurge (Euphorbia nutans) growing in the rubble along the road.  I believe most spurges with their weedy habit and sticky sap are among the least-appreciated wildflowers, but this species is among our native wildflowers in New York State and somewhat less common than the abundant creeping sidewalk weed called Spotted Spurge. I love its wee little flowers that are uniquely shaped.  A small cup, 1/8 inch across, holds the male and female flowers in the center. The rim of the cup has 4 white, rounded petal-like appendages, each a thickened gland at the base that is green to red. The male flower anthers are yellow and nearly indistinct. The clump of styles of the single female flower in the center sit atop a round, 3-parted ovary on a short stalk that extends out from the flower center. Both the floral cup and the developing ovary are often blushed with red. The structure of this flower is called a “cyathium” and is common to all the Euphorbias.

Thanks go to a  Minnesota Wildflowers site for that detailed description of the structure of spurge flowers.  I have long felt curious about this structure and never knew how to describe it.  Nor to know it was called a "cyathium."  I learned something new composing this blog!

Lake's Edge, Lot's Edge, Floral Finds

We got sprinkled on a bit, my friend Dana and I, but mostly the sunshine illumined our walk around Moreau Lake's back bay this past Friday. And this year, the water levels in the lake allowed us to walk on the sandy shore most of the way around, before moving up the bank onto a forested trail.  Both habitats treated us to some wonderful floral finds.  And so did the dirt at the edge of the parking lot! Here's a brief account of our botanical adventure.

The back bay of Moreau Lake lies in the shelter of this forested mountain, and the water back here often remains unruffled by winds that might be whipping up waves on the main part of the lake.  And this time of year, the still water lies beneath acres of Fragrant Water Lilies (Nymphaea odorata).

There are years when the lake-level is so high, we cannot walk around the back bay close to the water. But this year, broad swaths of sandy and pebbly shore allowed us to investigate what plants were taking advantage of the exposure to air to make their appearance.  The rarest of these plants is so tiny it would be overlooked except by diligent searchers for it, even though it grows by the thousands all around the lake (despite its status as an Endangered species in New York State). I left the tip of my shoe in my photo of this Small-flowered Dwarf Bulrush (Cyperus subsquarrosus) to demonstrate just how tiny it is.  (It's that swirl of slender pale-green curving leaves tipped with itty-bitty chubby brown spikelets.)

The abundant population of Canada St. John's Wort here was much more obvious, thanks to the deep-red color of the vertical flower stalks.

The flowers of Canada St. John's Wort are very small, but so brightly colored, with yellow petals and crimson buds, they are very easy to see and delight in.

Another abundant bloomer along these sandy shores (despite its designation as a Rare species in New York) is this lovely wildflower called Small-flowered Agalinis (Agalinis paupercula). Its purple flowers are very similar to the much-more common Slender Agalinis, but its twin blooms are borne on very short stalks, while those of Slender Agalinis are borne on much longer slender stalks.

The floating individuals of this beached wildflower called Water Smartweed (Persicaria amphibia) had mostly already gone to seed, so I was delighted to find one up on the shore that still held its thick cluster of tiny pink florets.

At this point, we started to feel a sprinkle of raindrops and so we climbed a trail up to the forested path that would shelter us somewhat as we completed our circuit of the back bay.  These dainty yellow flowers of Panicled Hawkweed (Hieracium paniculatum) lined our path as we ascended into the woods.

Few flowering plants bloom in the deep shade of the woods this time of year, and I almost overlooked the flowers of this blooming wildflower, called Naked-flowered Tick Trefoil (Hylodesmum nudiflorum). Actually, I could barely discern the small purple blooms arrayed against the leaf litter.  Unlike the related Pointed-leaf Tick Trefoil, whose flower stems emerge from the leaf stems, the flower stems of this species emerge from the forest floor beside the clump of their leaves.

The small spindly flowers of the Naked-flowered Tick Trefoil are difficult to photograph,  without a plain surface behind them.  This nearby broad leaf helped me out, even if not perfectly.

Considering how much rainfall we've received of late, I was surprised we found so few mushrooms along the forested trail. A colorful exception was this Two-colored Bolete (Baorangia bicolor),  a large brightly colored fungus that would have been hard to miss. Actually, this mushroom  became a THREE-colored Bolete as its yellow pore-surface turned blue where my fingers had touched it.

Later, after Dana and I went our separate ways, I saw this large speckled mushroom in the grassy verge  surrounding the parking area. Those speckles and knob atop the cap signaled to me that this was a Lepiota mushroom.  To determine the species I would have had to dismember it, so I left both the mushroom and its specific name behind

Before driving away, I circled the parking area to see what botanical treasures might be lurking in the forested edges, and I did not have to search very diligently to notice the vividly colorful berry clusters of several Round-leaved Dogwood shrubs (Cornus rugosa). I have long puzzled over the bright-red tiny hard "berries" that remain long after the pale larger berries have been consumed. A quick Google search informed me that those small red fruits are the persistent, aborted, unfertilized fruits that remain on the reddish pedicels.

Spotting what looked to be some arching stems of Solomon's Seal (Polygonatum sp.), I lifted a leafy stem and discovered these dark-blue berries dangling from the stem.  Since most of the berries appeared to be in pairs, and the habitat was dry, would it be safe to assume that this is P. biflorum?

And here was one of the prizes of my day, right at the edge of the asphalt: a large spreading patch of Round-leaved Tick Trefoil (Desmodium rotundifolium) studded with its pretty purple flowers!  In the past, I have had to climb quite a hike up a mountainous powerline clearcut to find a sparse population of this species sprawling across thin-soil-covered rocks.  And here, a bonanza bounty of this lovely native wildflower, just a few steps from my parked car. Yay!

And this was a VERY abundant patch!

Here's a closer look at Round-leaved Tick Trefoil's pretty purple flowers.

Floral Rarities at the Saratoga Battlefield

On one of the few days last week that thrashing afternoon thunderstorms were NOT in the forecast, my fellow nature-nut pal Sue Pierce alerted me: "Hey, we should go see if that Winged Monkey Flower survived all the torrents that must have raced through their ravine."  It was Sue herself who first alerted us some years ago to this state-ranked Rare plant (Mimulus alatus), recognizing it as an unusual plant even when shriveled and brown in the fall some years ago.  And so far, the stream-watered ravine at the Saratoga Battlefield National Historical Park where Sue first espied it remains the only place we have ever seen it. And early August is when it usually blooms.  So off to the Saratoga Battlefield we went to check on it.  

Above, Sue gazes across some of the 3,000 acres of open meadows and forested hills, serene and peaceful now, where, back in the fall of 1777, American revolutionary soldiers achieved a huge victory over British forces. This victory proved that America could win this war to achieve independence from England and convinced France to join forces with the Americans, a turning point that led to America's ultimate victory. 

This historic site now attracts thousands of visitors to its many exhibits relating to this battle, but it's also a beautiful park that attracts botanizers like Sue and me and other nature-lovers to explore its natural wonders. The meadows today were a sea of yellow Goldenrod blooms, punctuated by the purple blooms of Wild Bergamot and Joe Pye Weed and alive with the fluttering of hundreds of flying insects.

The recent torrential rainstorms had battered many of the meadow's wildflowers, but this Silver-spotted Skipper had managed to find some Wild Bergamot florets intact enough to offer it some nectar.

We were soon happy to seek the shade of the forested ravine where Sue first discovered our sought-after population of Winged Monkey Flowers. Torrential rains earlier this week had doubtless filled this creek to roaring, but the flow had returned to a gentle trickle by now.

Ah, but those rushing torrents had not been so gentle on the masses of Winged Monkey Flowers that now lay flattened along the creekbed.

Even while flattened, some of the Winged Monkey Flowers still bore undamaged blooms.

I could lift one flower stalk up to display the distinctive traits of this species, namely, the very short flower stalks and the long leaf stems that display the wings that suggested this native wildflower's name.

As my photo of the Common Monkey Flower (Mimulus ringens) reveals, the leaf and flower attachments are just the opposite on this much more common species, which has long flower stalks and sessile leaves. I find this species along the Hudson River and other waterways as well, but not here at the Saratoga Battlefield.

As it happened, those Winged Monkey Flowers were not the only rare plant we found on our visit to the Saratoga Battlefield today. Or more correctly, as SUE found today, while she was driving the road that winds through the park.  Sue noticed this very tall flowering plant with clusters of bright purple flowers growing along the road, and she believed it could be one of our two native species of Ironweed (Vernonia sp.) As soon as we met in the park's parking lot, Sue drove me to the site where she spied this plant, and I climbed down the bank to take a closer look at it.

As soon as I noticed the bracts on the involucres (the cup-like structures that hold the florets), I realized that Sue had found the species called Tall Ironweed (Vernonia gigantea).  Tall Ironweed is rated as an Endangered species in New York State.  Count on eagle-eyed Sue to spot another rare flower!

How did I recognize this plant as Tall Ironweed at a glance?  It was because I had frequently seen the more common species, New York Ironweed (V. novaeboracensis), a native species that is often planted in domestic gardens.  New York Ironweed grows in the raingarden outside the Nature Center at Moreau Lake State Park, which is where I took this next photo, which shows the distinctive long threads that extend from each of the involucral bracts.  The bracts on Tall Ironweed are pointed, but they do not end with long threads like this. The two species also differ in the number of florets each involucre contains (13-30 for V. gigantea; 30-50 for V. novaeboracensis), but the presence of thready projections (or lack thereof) is usually significant enough to determine the species. Sue sent a photo off to iNaturalist, which promptly supported my assessment.

So Sue's unerring sense for the unusual served her once again! Chalk up another great floral find for the Saratoga National Historical Park, thanks to Sue.

And guess what? Sue later emailed me a photo she had taken of ANOTHER Ironweed plant (in fact, TWO plants), which she spied along the park road as she was driving toward home.  We have not examined it closely enough to determine which species it is, but why would it NOT be the rare one?

As for MY fun find this day, mine was more faunal than floral. And I am not sure of either the floral species or the faunal.  Growing along the stone wall that surrounds the Saratoga Battlefield parking lot, were several patches of Pussytoes (Antennaria species), a smallish species of Pussytoes with overlapping frosted leaves. And dotting these plants were galls that resembled small white rosebuds. So pretty! With Google's help, I identified an insect whose larvae form rosebud-shaped galls on plants of the Antennaria genus: the Everlasting Bud Midge (Asphondylia antennariae). Seems likely that this might be the one.  Can anyone confirm the species of Pussytoes? My Newcomb's Wildflower Guide offers an entry called Smaller Pussytoes (A. howellii ssp. neodioica), described as having overlapping leaves that are dull green and woolly that end in a tiny abrupt point. Informed opinions would be gratefully welcomed in the comments.

Return of the Gentians!

The rains had finally stopped! A kind sun emerged last Friday to dry out our soaked and battered earth and allow our swollen creeks and ponds to settle down a bit. My friend Ruth and I headed up to one of our favorite ponds in northern Saratoga County, hoping to find that the fabulous array of native wildflowers that normally beautify its banks had survived the torrential downpours.

Ruth's smile says it all about how happy we were to be in our boats again on this perfect little Adirondack pond.

The water in the pond was certainly high, flooding the edges of the shore a foot or so up the banks, but at least the drainage culverts had not clogged, which happened 5 years ago, allowing the water to rise far up into the woods.  That flood killed almost all of the shoreline conifers and wiped out most of the shoreline wildflowers for several seasons to come.  We were hoping to discover today a continued further resurgence of those pondside plants.

We were glad to see that healthy stands of Bunchberry, Clintonia, and Dalibarda had repopulated the banks, but the recent torrential rains seemed to have knocked the berries and flower petals off the plants. The plants all looked healthy and green, but we missed the colorful display of blue and red berries and snow-white flowers we would normally enjoy seeing this time in the summer.

I fear, though, that the once abundant population of Small Green Wood Orchids (Platanthera clavellata) may take many more years to recover. Where over a hundred once thrived around the pond, I found just this solitary specimen.  But at least it was in full bloom for us to enjoy!

The wildflowers we were most excited to see recovering were the Narrow-leaved Gentians (Gentiana linearis), beaming their gorgeously radiant blue flowers every few feet along the shore. Not yet the thousand or more we once counted here pre-flood, but at least several dozens,  re-establishing their domain most of the way around the pond. (The green-bud-topped small stalks below the gentian belong to some Round-leaved Sundew plants, their basal leaves now underwater.)

Multi-flowered clusters of Narrow-leaved Gentians shone forth from fern-dominated shores.

Where the flowers of shoreline gentians toppled into the water, they floated upright like cobalt-blue water lilies.

There were so many gentian flowers topping this stalk, I could hardly count them.  I am hoping such healthy-looking plants signal the return of this incredibly beautiful native wildflower to its former flood-ravaged site. I have seen this flower along other waterways, but never in such abundance as along the shores of this pond.

This gentian abundance continued almost all the way around the pond, including parts of the sun-drenched south-facing shore.  I loved the sight of the vivid-blue gentians sharing their shore with the pink-flowered stalks of Steeplebush (Spiraea tomentosa).

We encountered many other beauties as we paddled around this pond. When the sun shone through the boughs of this Mountain Holly shrub (Ilex mucronata), its vivid-red berries appeared as if lit from within.

A fluffy tuft of pale-pink Meadowsweet (Spiraea alba) was displayed to perfection against the dark shade of the forested bank.

The bedrock-lined, Hemlock-crowned banks of the pond displayed a dramatic beauty of their own. Ruth, possessing a deep interest in mosses and liverworts, enjoyed exploring every crevice in the rocks to see what bryophyte treasures they might hold.

At the east end of the pond, we pushed our canoes through thick patches of burreeds and marshgrasses until any further progress was impeded by a beaver dam that stretched the entire width of the pond. (The dam is behind us in this photo.)

In a quiet cove, the dark still water reflected this patch of Pickerelweed (Pontederia cordata) with intensified beauty.

This Great Blue Heron held its regal pose long enough to capture in a photo.

After beaching our boats, I examined some Common Milkweed plants (Asclepias syriaca) to see who might be dining on its leaves.  I am almost always certain to find a Red Milkweed Beetle or two.  This beetle must have just begun to prepare for its lunch, since it had yet to sever a leaf-vein upstream from where it will dine on the leaf edge, preventing the sticky latex from gluing its jaws shut.

Where we stopped at a local tavern to have some lunch ourselves, this stand of Joe-Pye-Weed by the parking lot was providing a meal for this gorgeous Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly. A beautiful close to our morning's adventure on that beautiful pond!