I Found a New Flower -- and an Airport! -- in North Creek

Who would have thought that a little Adirondack town like North Creek would have its own airport?  I sure didn't, so I was quite surprised when my friend Evelyn Greene (who lives in North Creek) suggested we take a walk there to look for Fringed Gentians.  OK, sure, I said, knowing that whatever Evelyn suggests is bound to be an adventure.  So off we set down a dirt road that led  to this lovely open greensward surrounded by forest and offering a splendid view of nearby Moxham Mountain:  the airport at North Creek.

That airport's green grass landing strip looked more like a golf course than an airport, and it made for a lovely place to walk on a quiet September Sunday afternoon,  when we had to dodge neither incoming aircraft nor errant golf balls.  Evelyn and I were joined there by our friend and fellow wildflower enthusiast, Bob Duncan.

Evelyn seems to know intimately every inch of land surrounding her home for miles, and several years ago she had recognized a patch of dampish soil along the airport's runway as the perfect spot for Fringed Gentians to grow.   So she obtained some seeds and scattered them there among the asters and goldenrods and especially the Bog Lycopodium that had indicated the right soil chemistry for this lovely blue late-summer flower.   The payoff for her efforts was much in evidence today.

The gorgeous New England Asters added their flashes of brilliant color to the unmown edges of the runway.  Although a deep and radiant purple is the expected color of this wildflower's blooms, here and there we saw this aster sporting blooms of an equally deep and radiant rose.

As the wildflower season draws to a close, we nature lovers are grateful for other points of interest along our paths.  A case in point is this sprightly baby White Cedar sprouting up from a patch of Pink Earth Lichen.

Pink Earth Lichen always deserves a down-on-your-knees, nose-to-the-ground closer look to admire its adorable tiny pink fruiting bodies.

Another lichen growing nearby also deserved a closer look to marvel its minute telescoping trumpets.  I'm not sure of the scientific name of this Cladonia species, but I have heard it called Pagoda Lichen.  Update:  Thanks to Bob Duncan, I now do know the scientific name of this lichen:  Cladonia cervicornis var. verticillata.

I did recognize this fluffy gray stuff as Reindeer Lichen, and the perky green tuft is certainly a clubmoss, but one I don't know the name of.  If I do find out, I'll be back to add its ID.  Update:  Another big thanks goes to Bob Duncan, who ID'd this clubmoss as Diphasiastrum tristachyum.  I wonder how I'll be able to remember that?  One of its common names is Blue Ground-cedar, and it does have a bluer cast to its green than other clubmosses that are also called Ground-cedar.

Masses of Sand Jointweed displayed how happy they were to inhabit this sandy trail that led into the woods from the airport runway.

We were striding along this trail toward home when the brilliant orange color of this unknown plant halted us in our tracks.  None of us knew what it was at first, but we did have a Newcomb's Wildflower Guide and its clever key system with us, so it didn't take long to find out that this was Flowering Spurge (Euphorbia corollata), sometimes called Wild Baby's Breath.

A nearby plant with a few flowers remaining clinched the ID, as did the drop of milky white sap oozing from a broken-off stem.  This is not a particularly uncommon plant, but it's one that I had never seen before, so I can now add a new flower to my "lifer" list.

Poor butterfly!  This Viceroy's tattered wings indicate that its life may soon be drawing to an end along with summer's close.  But like the bright leaves of that Flowering Spurge, the butterfly added a spot of brilliant color to the landscape around the airport at North Creek.

A Solstice Celebration

Today's the day, the Solstice, high summer. A good day to get high. High up, I mean, as in a nice morning climb with good friends. Here we are, standing on the mountainside overlooking the Hudson River. That's Cliff, on the left, who likes to hike barefoot; in the middle is Rebecca, who works as a nature educator at Moreau Lake State Park; and then that's my dear friend Sue, my nature adventure buddy who organized today's hike. Sue wanted to check the Wood Lilies that grow along the pathway up, so that's what we did, and we found them just fine and in beautiful bloom, tucked in among Hay-scented Ferns.

There were lots of beautiful things in bloom, including this Deertongue grass.

You don't think that's so beautiful? Perhaps you haven't looked really close at those tiny flowers that look like minute red Christmas trees. I never had, until Sue told me about them today. Amazing! How could I have lived this long and never noticed them?

Here's another kind of interesting flower that usually goes unnoticed because it's so small and unprepossessing. It's called Cowwheat. I wonder how it got that name? I'll have to do some research and add an update later.

Isn't the web amazing? All it took was one click to find a wonderful site that told me all kinds of good stuff about Cow Wheat. I won't repeat it because you can just click here and read it there.

Here's a pretty caterpillar that was clinging to a needle of White Pine. It was small, less than an inch, but quite colorful. Anybody recognize it? (Click on the Comments to learn why this caterpillar was so happy on a pine needle.)

I sure did not recognize this little pink lollypop lichen that was growing on the rocky mountainside. I've never seen it before, and it's not in my lichen book. What a pretty color combination, those soft pink fruiting bodies atop that nubby carpet of dark- and grey-green thallus. (Check the Comments to find that Ellen has ID'd this lichen for us.)

More pretty pink things. These are Black Huckleberries. Blue-black they will be, when they're ripe.

We did find some ripe Low Blueberries and ate them as fast as we found them. Sue told us that it was a Solstice tradition to pick and eat blueberries without using your hands. Here she shows us how. Don't slide down that mountainside, Sue!

Another beautiful fruit -- or rather, fruiting body. This is what one of my mushroom books calls Ling Chih and another book calls Lacquered Polypore. Ganoderma lucidum is the scientific name, and I know enough Latin to recognize the word for "shiny" in there. And shiny it certainly is.

That Chinese name intrigued me, so I looked in my Audubon's mushroom guide, where I learned that this species is believed to be the Ling Chih of the ancient Chinese, the "mushroom of immortality" or the "herb of spiritual potency." The Aududon guide also notes that a candy made of the essence is sold in Chinese markets in New York City. Wow! A magic mushroom! How appropriate for Solstice Day!

Here's another beautiful mushroom, a Painted Boletus. This is a young one, so its cap is a solid red, completely covered by what looks like a mohair shawl. As the cap spreads out, that red cover will shred, and the cap will take on a more speckled appearance.

I had read that this species of bolete is good to eat, so I took some home for supper. Were they yummy? Nyeh. Next time I'll just leave them looking lovely by the path.

Did you ever wonder what makes those foamy spit balls in the axils of green plants? Here's a nice glob of foamy spit I found today. Let's see what's inside.

What an adorable little green bug! He kept running away, so I could only get a shot of his rear. I carefully put him back on his plant after the photo session. I hope he can spit out another glob of foam to protect himself.

I hope I didn't spoil your day too badly, little bug. I certainly had a wonderful one. Thanks, Sue, for getting us up and out and up on the mountainside on this beautiful day. (For Sue's own account of our Solstice adventure, with beautiful photos and great Thoreau quotes, check out her blog Water-Lily by clicking here.)