Scenes of the Season

If I needed a snowy scene for a Christmas card, I'd be out of luck.  No snow out there.  But I did find a few things that were Christmassy-pretty today as I prowled the mountainsides along the Hudson River near Spier Falls Road.

I often pull off the road by the dam, to explore the rocky cliffs that rise steeply up from the roadside there.  The niches and cracks and shelves in these cliffs support lovely gardens of mosses and lichens, watered by springs that seep down the rocks, which today were cold enough to turn that dripping water into cascading icicles.

Some of the mosses that grow there have put on their Christmas colors of red and green.

Nestled in among the moss were pretty rosettes of Early Saxifrage, next spring's flowerbuds tightly furled and tucked at the center of a ring of rosy ruffled leaves.

This Beech leaf was sealed to the face of the rocks by a thin sheet of ice that intensified its rich golden bronze.

Further along the road, a sprightly little waterfall tumbled down the mountain, its splashing waters reinvigorated by this past week's frequent rains.  I made my way into the woods at this point to follow the waterfall's course up the mountainside.

The splashing droplets created glistening icicles along every overhanging streamside branch.

This streamside boulder, covered with Greenshield Lichen, appears to have been decorated with frosted Christmas greenery.

Carpets of moss appeared as festive as patterned Christmas wrap.

Even this dead baby pine seemed to get into the spirit of the season when a sunbeam turned its normally dull-brown needles a startling red.











Normally, I truly hate Asiatic Bittersweet for its terrible habit of overwhelming native trees with its masses of strangling vines.  But who could not be struck with delight by the sight of these ruby orbs turned luminous as Christmas lights by a ray of late-day sun?

A Flood of Flowers and Other Wonders

While out checking the state of floodwaters today, I was also trying to keep up with the flood of wildflowers now coming into bloom. For flower nuts like me, every day is like Christmas now, as I hurry out to see what marvels Mother Nature has left for me under the trees. Along Spier Falls Road in Moreau, these Christmas-Ribbon-Red Trilliums were massed on a steep bank rising over my head, so that every one of their gorgeous nodding flowers was faced in my direction. What a sight!

Trout Lily always averts its gaze, so you have to put your finger under its chin to lift its face. But today I was happy to notice the back of its bloom, where all three sepals were tinged with pink to distinguish them from the pure-yellow petals.

Early Saxifrage is already in bloom, and I did find their bright-white clustered flowers today, but I love even more these chubby little bunches of buds set off by their wreaths of scalloped leaves.

The twin trumpets of American Fly Honeysuckle are dangling now from single stalks.

Dog Violets, with their pale-purple flowers that grow on leafy stems, were starting to carpet the woods at Orra Phelps Nature Preserve.

Also at Orra Phelps today, the Dutchmen had hung their Breeches above their clumps of lacy leaves.

Massed along this rushing stream, Sessile-leaved Bellworts were trying to hide their pale-yellow blooms beneath their stem-clasping leaves. I think this photo demonstrates how I manage to get tick bites in my eyebrows, since I had to lie down on my stomach to get this shot.

There were other marvels besides flowers beautifying the woods today. Wherever the sunlight shone down through the trees, the translucent baby leaves of Red Maple lit up like stained glass.

Ferns of every kind are now unscrolling their fiddleheads. I think this may be Wood Fern, since I see all those fronds surrounding this clump, still green although flattened by winter's deep snow.

For the same reason, I'm pretty sure that these fuzzy coils belong to the Christmas Fern that lies there so green beside them.

Speaking of green . . . . This beautiful bright-green moss was decorating the huge damp boulders that lie at the foot of the cliffs opposite Spier Falls Dam.

Some of that moss was sprouting a dense coat of hair-fine spore stalks.

Inhabiting those same damp boulders were mats of brown Dog Lichen, with a wee little tan-colored mushroom hiding out amid the similarly colored "ears" of the lichen.

Not every flower that's beautiful is a delight to see. At first I thought these shiny yellow blooms might be Marsh Marigold, except I didn't remember any of that plant growing along this particular stream at Orra Phelps Nature Preserve. Then a closer inspection (involving very muddy shoes) revealed that this is Lesser Celandine, a dreaded invasive alien that, left to its own devices, could soon take over the area, supplanting all the rich diversity of plants now found there.

Here's a closer look at its flower, pretty enough, with shiny yellow petals.

I hope that's the last of its pretty face we will find at Orra Phelps, since I promptly pulled it out. Luckily, there was only one clump. But now I'll be watching for it, in case it returns. To learn more about this invasive plant and how to help eradicate it, go to the New York Flora Association's blog by clicking here.