The Brown Season

Dreary and cold today, with enough of a wind to worm its way down under my scarf.  If I hadn't been starving for outdoor activity throughout this long holiday weekend, I might have refused my friend Sue's invitation to join her for a walk at Moreau Lake.  But once I set out along the shore of the lake, with the surrounding mountains reflected in the new thin ice that covered the back bay, I was awfully glad to be there.  We saw not another soul while we ambled the shore, except for a pair of Bufflehead ducks that kept their distance in a patch of open water, too far away for us to photograph them.

I think of this late-autumn time as the "brown season,"  when the flowering plants have long lost their colors and the snow has not yet covered the naked earth with brilliant white.  It takes a bit more of an effort, now, to notice the many beauties the earth still has to offer.  In the case of this fluffy bunch of Phragmites, I had to overcome my grudging distaste for its invasive habits to appreciate its soft loveliness.

Brown-on-brown is the prevalent coloration now, from palest ecru to cinnamon to tobacco-leaf to Moroccan leather.   These dainty asters growing along the oak-leaf-strewn beach were as pretty as Baby's Breath.

 Sue found a whole cluster of Earth Star fungi on the sandy shore, adding their cadaverous hues to the late-fall color scheme.

She also spotted this handsome group of gilled fungi, aged to a rich rusty brown.

The Shadblow twigs were tipped with pointed buds, bright-brown and edged with gold, as if Mother Nature had draped the branches with Christmas lights.

We did find a few splashes of brilliant color, such as these red-tipped Evening Primrose basal rosettes.

These Green-capped Jelly Clubs were a bit of a surprise, since this fungus usually prefers damp mossy spots instead of dry sandy beaches.  Sue noticed the greenish caps first, a bit shriveled with age, and we didn't see the bright yellow stalks until we brushed away the sand
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Nature Walks Here and There

How did we manage to escape Nature's wrath these past weeks?  While coastal New York has suffered flooding sea surges, tree-toppling wind blasts, and the insult of heavy snows, up here in the Saratoga Region we have enjoyed one lovely late-autumn day after another.  And, doubly blessed, we are also lucky to have an abundance of woodsy and watery places to spend those lovely days outdoors.  Here's a brief recap of just three of those places I've visited this past week.

Friday: The Hennig Preserve, Town of Providence, Saratoga County

Less than 15 miles west of downtown Saratoga Springs but more than a thousand feet higher in altitude lies the Hennig Preserve, one of the latest -- and certainly the largest -- nature preserve to be managed by Saratoga P.L.A.N.  A gift to this county-based land-conservation organization from members of the Hennig family, the preserve consists of over 600 acres of forested land, with about 9 miles of well-marked trails that wander through a beautiful mixed-conifer/hardwood forest.

I had the very best of guides when I visited the Hennig Preserve on Friday:  no less than one of the donors of the land, Barbara Hennig, whose intimacy with every aspect of these woods stems from her having spent more than 50 years carefully stewarding them.  Our other stellar companion, the noted botanist, author, and teacher Ruth Schottman, had invited my to join her and Barbara to walk a portion of the woods on this bright chilly day.   This photo shows Barbara and Ruth ascending one of the more interesting geological features of the preserve, a ridge-shaped ice-age remnant called an "esker" that rises to considerable height and runs for more than a quarter-mile through the woods.

The long winding ridges called eskers were created when sand and gravel was deposited within ice-walled tunnels in the glacier, which lay nearly a mile thick over these woods during the Ice Age.  When the glacier melted, these stream deposits remained.  To my knowledge, I had never encountered an esker in all my woods wanderings until I walked along this high ridge in the Hennig Preserve, enjoying the prospect of the woods falling steeply away on either side of our path.


I also enjoyed the little stream that we crossed at two points in our circuitous trail, its clear water sparkling and dancing along through the heart of the forest.

A clue that we were walking through a higher-altitude forest than those closer to my home was the presence of Stiff Clubmoss (Lycopodium annotinum), which still retained its yellow sporophylls at the tips of its bristly stalks, releasing little clouds of spores when I flicked a finger at them.  This is a species of clubmoss that prefers a colder climate than does a similar-looking clubmoss called Running Pine (Lycopodium clavatum), which is common in the woods around Saratoga Springs and which bears its spores on separate forked stalks, rather than at the ends of its leaf stalks.

Another clue to this forest's higher altitude was the presence of Red Spruce and Balsam Fir among its mix of conifers,  which also included the more familiar (to me) White Pine and Hemlock.  Black Cherry was numerous in the mix of deciduous trees, along with maples, beeches, poplars, and hickories.  As we walked along the trail, we could tell what trees we were passing under by observing what leaves lay underfoot.  At a glance, we knew we were under Red Maples by the purplish cast to their fallen leaves, intermixed with the pale tan ones of American Beech.

Now, here's a puzzle none of us had an answer to:  Why is almost every single one of the fallen leaves that litter the forest floor lying face-down?  Anybody have a clue?

Sunday:  Moreau Lake State Park, Moreau, Saratoga County

On Sunday afternoon, I quickly shed my jacket as I set off around Moreau Lake, the day was so soft and warm, with only the slightest breeze to riffle the sky-blue water.

Although the sky was nearly cloudless, there was a slight haze lying over the mountains and lake, which added a lovely misty quality to every vista.

Despite ample rainfall this autumn, the water level was still low enough to allow for walking completely around the lake on wide  beaches, golden ribbons of sunlight rippling across the underwater sand as the wavelets lapped on the shore.  Although this photo doesn't show another soul in the shot, there were many people enjoying the park on this mellow day, so I had many opportunities to pat the heads of very happy dogs.

Their petals have fallen, but the bright-yellow bracts of Witch Hazel still hold the sunlight as if they were still in bloom.

Monday:  Cole's Woods, Glens Falls, Warren County

The weather continued sunny and warm on Monday, when I met my friend Sue for a walk through Cole's Woods, a remarkably extensive forest tract right in the heart of Glens Falls, adjacent to Crandall Park.

Originally preserved in the 1970s as a cross-country ski area, the woods has miles of pine-needle-cushioned trails for very pleasant walking during the snowless months of the year.  When we visited this woods last spring, we were delighted to find a number of wildflowers we rarely find in other nearby forests, such as One-sided Pyrola and Rosy Twisted Stalk, which were growing here in abundance, along with many others of our favorites.   We found no wildflowers in bloom today, but there were many other signs of life on this balmy day, including a cluster of waterbugs skating across the surface of this pretty little creek.  Sue is patiently trying to get a photo of them.

In the damp mud along the creek, many sharp-pointed shoots of Skunk Cabbage were already protruding, offering us a promise of spring's first flowers even before the first of winter's snows have begun to fall.

 Foamflower leaves carpet the woods in low-lying spots.  Their purple-tinged evergreen leaves will stay fresh all winter long under the snow, along with the fronds of the Intermediate Wood Fern that intermingles with Foamflower here.

Although the leaves and petals of Starflower have long been shed, we found evidence of their presence in these tiny white ball-shaped seedheads still perched on the ends of twin flower stalks.

Sue Gets A Hornbeck!

NOW we can really go places!  My dear friend and nature companion Sue has finally taken the plunge and purchased a Hornbeck Blackjack canoe.  Because this boat weighs a mere 12 pounds, Sue can hoist it up on one shoulder and hike for long distances to hidden ponds that no car could have access to.  I've got a list of places I can't wait to take her to.  But first she wanted to baptize her Blackjack in the dear familiar waters of Moreau Lake, the lake that's our true home base and the place that we first came to know one another.  I joined her there on Wednesday morning.  I am, after all, a kind of godmother to Sue's new baby.

Here Sue sets out to test her new boat's performance and to get a feel for how far she can tip it before swamping.  After several maneuvers that involved her getting thoroughly soaked (on purpose!), she dumped the water out of her boat, dried off a bit, and set out to explore the shore of the lake.  That's my own Hornbeck Blackjack on the shore, and I quickly got in and followed her.

When we entered the first bay of the lake, I noticed quite a commotion in a tall Sassafras tree and saw flashes of red and black as this Pileated Woodpecker (Sue thought it was a juvenile) tugged at the ripening fruit.

Well, it's always exciting to see a Pileated Woodpecker, they're such flashily impressive birds, but I was even more excited to see so many fruits on this Sassafras.  Every year I hunt and hunt for them and only rarely find them, even on trees that I know had female flowers in the spring.  This has got to be one of the prettiest tree fruits, with blue-black berries resting on scarlet pedicels that hold the fruit erect like tiny goblets.  Obviously, woodpeckers love to eat them, but they're not considered to be edible for humans.

The shoreline of the lake is beginning to take on late-summer colors, with this beautiful little golden sedge (?)  growing copiously in the sand at the water's edge.   I love the pretty herringbone pattern of its flower heads.

While peering closely to admire that sedge, Sue discovered this moribund Katydid, an insect we rarely get to lay eyes on, since it normally occupies the treetops.  Such a lovely color, like the finest jade, and what delicacy of the wings! We guessed that this was a female, with that ovipositor protruding from her abdomen.  Does a Katydid expire after laying her eggs?  We felt a tender sadness toward her, and Sue laid her gently on the sand beneath the pretty sedge.

I was surprised to find Small-flowered Gerardia already in bloom, since this is a flower I normally don't start to look for along Moreau's shores until September.   The plants were not only blooming early, they also seemed to be extraordinarily large.   Is it possible another species of Gerardia has moved in on the territory?

This was quite an extraordinary clump of Nodding Smartweed.  I usually find just a few scraggly stems here and there, but here was a magnificent cluster of them all handsomely massed together in a most un-weedlike manner.

Time to Catch Up on a Busy Nature Week

Oh lovely Spring!  She offers so many wonders to a naturalist, it's hard to keep up with all she has to display.  I've been so busy with woodswalks this past week or so, I haven't found time to post blogs about my adventures.  And today, another beautiful day is beckoning me to set forth once again, so I want to quickly put up this brief survey of some of the past week's activities, just for the record. 

Amazing Boulders Near Snowy Mountain

 Evelyn Greene (blue backpack, below) not only knows some of the most wondrous spots in the mountains, but she's also eager to share her discoveries with her friends.  On May 3 she led a group of us up the trails of Snowy Mountain near Indian Lake to lay our eyes on some really strange and amazing boulders.

We didn't have to climb all the way to the top of the mountain, because these huge, hollowed-out boulders had likely tumbled down from cliffs above to rest on the lower slopes, more easily accessible on an afternoon's hike.

 Composed of granitic gneiss, the boulders -- called tafoni, a word meaning "windows" in Corsican -- were hollowed out with typical honeycombed pits by various processes, including chemical weathering and mineral hydration.  Typically, these kinds of boulders are found near seashores or deserts, where salt spray or high winds contribute greatly to the weatherization process. Finding these boulders in the middle of an Adirondack forest adds to their mystery.

Acres and acres of blooming Trout Lilies certainly added to the pleasure of our hike up to see those boulders.

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A Wooded Trail Along the Hudson

Evelyn next invited me to join her on a woodland trail that starts near the Thurman Bridge outside Warrensburg.  It was a beautiful blue-sky day this Wednesday to walk along a blue and beautiful Hudson.

We had once walked this trail in early winter to explore its possibilities for cross-country skiing, but today we walked in search of what spring ephemerals might be blooming.  We found the usual denizens of a mixed-hardwood forest like this, while enjoying the extraordinary beauty of sunlight filtering through translucent early green leaves.

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Thursday Group Explores Moreau Shores

 The group of wonderfully knowledgeable folks called the Thursday Naturalists invited my friend Sue and me to lead them around the shores of Moreau Lake this week.   At first, we worried a bit that our friends might find little to fascinate them in this lakeside habitat,  but after it took at least a half-hour to walk a hundred yards, we realized how baseless were our fears.  Every five minutes found us down on our knees or pulling down branches to peer at  one plant or shrub after another, with lively discussions concerning the distinguishing features of each specimen.

Not all of our wondrous discoveries were botanical, however.  Thanks to Sue's eagle eyes, we were witness to the emergence of many dragonflies from their nymphs that were clinging to shoreside plants.

And this mama spider came scurrying by, hauling her teal-blue egg sac.  Wow!

We had all seen Trailing Arbutus many times, but few of us had ever seen the plant's tiny fur-covered fruits.  They reminded me of the coconut-covered candy apples I used to see at county fairs.
 

The blooming Pitch Pines along the beach gave us the opportunity to learn more about this tree's reproduction process, thanks to Ruth Schottman's expert explication.   She pointed out the knot of male (pollen-bearing) flowers here clustered around the base of a new-needle spike.

We next searched and searched through the boughs and finally found a few tiny red-tipped female flowers.  After pollination from the male flowers, these female structures are what will produce the cones.

We also found little developing cones, which Ruth informed us were yearling cones, having been formed a year ago.  Pitch Pines, she explained, will hold onto even mature cones for many years.

So I sure leaned something new about Pitch Pines on our excursion.  I also found something new that day.  As I crossed the parking lot toward my car to go home, I noticed a patch of flowering grass that looked just a little different than any I had seen before.   I passed a piece around to the members of our group, and none of them had seen it before, either.  But then, none of us pretends to be an expert on graminoids.

 So I sent a photo to Steve Young, chief botanist for the New York Natural Heritage Program, and he told me this is Poa bulbosa, an introduced bulbous bluegrass that had not yet been reported as far north as Saratoga County.  He also told me that it was considered invasive and that I should pull it up wherever I find it.  Now, if I can only find it again!

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 Garden Club Tours Skidmore Woods

 Friday morning dawned bright and beautiful, perfect for leading a group of garden-club members through the North Woods of Skidmore College.  Organized by Martha Van Patten of Saratoga Springs, the outing attracted garden-club members from as far away as Indian Lake.  I was also delighted to have noted botanist Ruth Schottman (red coat) and her husband Tom along, to bolster me wherever my botanical knowledge might be wanting.

The Skidmore woods, with its limestone substrate, never fails to deliver many plants of remarkable interest, so I was able to show these lively and interested participants some flowers they had never or seldom seen before, such as Green Violet, Orange-fruited Horse Gentian, and Wood Betony.   I also took the opportunity to encourage these expert gardeners to consider replacing exotics in their gardens with some of the many native plants available at wildflower nurseries.  Happily, the Canada Mayflower was coming into bloom, to demonstrate what a lovely groundcover it could provide in any home garden.

Fringed Polygala was also putting on quite a display, carpeting areas of woods with amazingly intense color.

No doubt the star of the show, however, was the exquisite Yellow Lady's Slipper.  We found several isolated specimens along our walk, thanks to the acute eyesight of some of our group, who spied them blooming off in the woods far from the path. 

 Ruth told us about a botanist who had painstakingly pollinated a group of these lady's slippers in order to have them produce seed heads, which they then did.  But after producing those seed heads, the plants did not bloom again, sometimes not even growing leaves, for several years.  So maybe it's a good thing that we found these lovely flowers so isolated from one another.



I had hoped to show our group the Squaw Root that I always found sprouting beneath a certain oak tree, but it wasn't yet to be seen.  And then I turned around and discovered this intriguing plant sprouting up in a different site.  I had never before seen it in this cute "button" stage.

We were also treated to many animal presences along the way, including a number of butterflies, much exquisite birdsong, and several Garter Snakes, so sinuously lovely among the leaves.

Some of the rarest plants in the Skidmore woods I did not show to my visitors, because they are so sought-after by herbalists that they are in danger of being extirpated.  So I keep their locations a secret.  Goldenseal is one of these plants, and after I said good-bye to the group, I sneaked off to check on the state of one patch that I knew of.  I was happy to find it in very good health, possibly because I have weeded out the Garlic Mustard that several years ago threatened to overwhelm the site where it grows.

Returning to my car along a rocky, moss-covered ledge, I found many plants of Herb Robert, a wild geranium with a beautifully lacy foliage and pretty pink flowers.  Too bad I didn't have a chance to show these plants to the garden-club ladies.  But I'll bet many of them already grow them in their rock gardens.  I sure would, if I had a rock garden.  But hey, come to think of it, I do.  And I don't have to lift a finger to cultivate it.