Massachusetts Woods and Waters and Roadways

Just got back yesterday from a brief visit with in-laws in central Massachusetts, and what a wonderful mini-vacation it was, with absolutely perfect weather and the always delightful companionship of much-loved family members.  One of our traditional pastimes while visiting here is to walk along the nearby Quabbin Reservoir, a huge, carefully protected lake that serves as a water supply for cities as far away as Boston.

While my husband and his brother strode purposefully ahead at a brisk pace, my sister-in-law and I dawdled along behind, stopping here and there to notice such delights as these masses of Blue-eyed Grass, as well as to breathe in the delicious scent of the Sweet Fern that surrounded this patch of flowers.

We also had to stop for a while to watch these Red-spotted Purple Butterflies dine on some very hairy dung (could it be coyote's?).  It's hard to reconcile the beauty of the butterflies with our normal feelings about dung, but I understand that the butterflies can get important minerals from this source.

 I was surprised to learn, when I looked on the internet to ID these butterflies, that the Red-spotted Purple is the same species as the White Admiral, just a different color variant.  I never would have guessed!



I haven't yet discovered the name of this dragonfly with the black-and-white stigmas.  I wonder if it has a common name like "Flying Vertebrae," since that segmented whitish stripe certainly looks like some kind of backbone.

Update:  My friend Sue Pierce has ID'd this dragonfly as a Spangled Skimmer, and after looking at images on the web, I'd guess this is either a female or an immature male.  The bicolor stigmas are one of the distinguishing features of this dragonfly.



Back near the house on a quiet country road in the tiny village of New Salem, the surrounding woods were just full of Mountain Laurel putting forth a lavish display of pink-and-white flowers.

Giant old Sugar Maples shaded the roadway and spread their graceful branches over white clapboard houses nearly as old as the trees, while in the roadside ditches, little seedling Sugar Maples were topped with clusters of pretty rose-colored baby leaves.

Even the hard-packed dirt along the roadside provided habitat for some very pretty -- if also tiny -- Blue Toadflax flowers, little dots of vivid blue atop spindly stalks with thread-like leaves.

And ooh, just look at all the ripe Strawberries!  Their flavor was as intense as their color was vivid.

I know that Motherwort is a common weed found everywhere, including Massachusetts roadsides, but I always have to take a closer look at its tiny pink speckled flowers topped with fine fur.  They make me think of bunny slippers.

This mother Phoebe had made her nest under the porch roof, so we could watch her through a window, trying not to disturb her.  I was surprised how quietly she and her mate went about their comings and goings.  I usually associate Phoebes with birds that never shut up, calling their name with a buzzy "fee-bee" incessantly, but these birds never made a peep.  Perhaps once they are nesting, they don't want to draw attention to themselves.

Home Again, Off Again

I just got back tonight from a few days visiting relatives in New Salem, Massachusetts, a tiny hamlet near the Quabbin Reservoir in the middle of the state. The date on the New Salem Meeting House in the above photo reads 1794, and except for the roads being paved and street lights installed, I doubt much has changed here in over 200 years. This place just epitomizes peace and quiet and serene New England charm.

I had hoped we would walk along the shore of the Quabbin, a carefully monitored watersource surrounded by hundreds of acres of protected forest, but with temperatures soaring into the 90s, it was just too darn hot. I did get out to walk the quiet country road our hosts live on, which was lined with graceful stems of tiny Blue Toadflax, a common roadside weed in these parts but one I seldom find near Saratoga.

Blue Toadflax flowers are so small they could pass unnoticed, but they deserve a closer look.

One of the neighbors along this road raises Alpacas, so we wandered back to their enclosure to say hello. It appears that the herd has just been sheared of their fine soft wool.

Oh look, there's a brand-new baby! How tiny it is, with its coat still damp and strung with remnants of its amniotic sac.

What an adorable baby, still wobbling on its recently unfolded legs.

The little one sank down to rest and bawled for mama. We thought it best to leave the mother and baby undisturbed.

It was great fun to go visiting for a few days, especially when our hosts are as delightful as my brother-in-law and his wife, who entertained us with wonderful meals and fascinating conversation. Now I'm home for just an evening and morning before leaving again for a retreat at Pyramid Lake in the Adirondacks. While there, I hope to rise at dawn for a paddle on this pristine wilderness lake, just as the sun is touching the trees with gold and loons are calling from a distant cove. Heaven!

I'll be back on Sunday to tell you all about it.