OK, Snow, You May Go

What's the matter with me?  I've been longing for snow all winter, and now that we had a nice snowfall, I wish it would all go away.  It came too late, that's all -- after I'd got myself all primed for an early spring.  I had to nearly force myself to go outdoors today, but finally I did, choosing to wander along the Hudson where the river flows back into a marsh and around some islands.  Ah, but just the sight of those forested mountains against the sky and those graceful pines adorned with snow made me glad I'd made the decision to get outdoors.  As the psalmist sang, there's something about lifting one's eyes to the hills  that also lifts one's spirits.

The snow in the woods was not so deep that I needed snowshoes, but deep enough to  ease my passage over rocks and downed limbs as I made my way to where a frozen bay encircled Three Pine Island.  Out in the open river, the water ran free of ice.

 In other winters, I have found these particular woods criss-crossed with animal tracks of many kinds: deer, fox, coyote, fisher, and -- nearer the water -- otter and mink.  But not today.  Not even a trace of the trails of squirrels or mice.  All the critters must still be holed up in their dens since the start of this storm.  Well, I take that back.  I did find one critter.  But it didn't leave much of a trail as it walked across the snow.

 I'm always amazed to find spiders walking about in winter.  What do they find to eat this time of year?  Maybe they forage for hibernating insects hidden in the clefts of tree bark.  Or perhaps they feed on snow fleas or winter stoneflies or similar tiny critters that startle me by their lively presence in the wintry woods.


At least this nice thick layer of snow has brought some light into the woods, covering the dull dead brown of the forest floor and providing a foil for the rich tobacco-brown leaves that still cling to this Witch Hazel shrub.  The little beeches behind it still hold their leaves, too, although of a paler golden hue.

It's late on Friday night as I sign off this blog post, and I hear the rain falling outside.  I guess I will soon get my wish that this snow should all go away.  I'm really glad now that I did get out to enjoy it.

Hot Walking, Cool Wading

Okay. I have to admit it, even if grudgingly: Purple Loosestrife is a gorgeous wildflower. It made quite a beautiful sight, nearly filling a field at the Woods Hollow Nature Preserve in Ballston Spa. The trouble is, I'd come here to this oak/pine sandplain habitat to try to find a native flower called Seedbox, which, by all rights, should be filling this field with its yellow primrose-like blooms. But no such luck. Quite likely, the alien invasive loosestrife has supplanted the Seedbox , if, indeed, it ever did grow here.

It was rather too hot a day to be trudging around a sunny sandplain, filling my shoes with loose grit and getting prickly sandburs stuck in the laces. And then getting disappointed not to find the flower I was seeking.

Oh well, I thought, as long as I'm here, let's see what else might be blooming.

I was kind of surprised to find Horsemint in full bloom. I've found it as late as September in other years, but never earlier than the second week of August. But oh, gosh, August starts the day after tomorrow! Where did the summer go?

The pinky-purple bracts of Horsemint are showier than its actual flowers, but those flowers also have a charm of their own, so buttery yellow with purple polka-dots.

The royal-blue blooms of Blue Vervain were making their way up the wand-like spikes arrayed like candelabra.

Scurrying across the hot noontime sand was this Tiger Beetle, Cicindela formosa generosa (thanks, Bug.Guide.net), a large handsome species that likes to hang out in sandpits. I thought that its boldly patterned elytra were striking enough, but then I noticed the iridescence of its antennae and legs. When I flipped it over, I saw that the whole of its underside was beautifully iridescent.

Well, this little scene had me scratching my head, puzzling over the odd juxtaposition of its elements. To see a mushroom sprouting out of dry sand was unusual in itself. But where did that tiny broken toy car come from? Or those little chunks of blue glass? It would be fun to make up a story to explain their happenstance.

A couple more mushrooms, pretty and pink, like a matched pair of . . . um . . . headlights! Obviously, these were not growing out in the hot dry sand, but back in the woods on a damp mossy bank, where I'd sought refuge from the midday glaring sun.

I soon had enough of walking around in that heat and headed next to Kelly Park, a nice little municipal park in downtown Ballston Spa that offers a shady nature trail along the Kayaderosseras Creek. It was very cool and pleasant here, especially when I left the trail to wade right out into the water.

Lining the trail in the deepest shade were tall stalks of American Germander, a Mint Family plant with typical mint-family-plant-looking flowers, but distinguished by their lack of an upper lip.

Out on the sun-lit banks, Joe-Pye Weed was a popular landing spot for lots of Skipper butterflies.

I was startled to find one flowerhead of Joe-Pye Weed almost completely covered by this enormous spider. I believe it's a fishing spider, who catches its prey by dropping right down into the water, although it had wound its resident flowerhead round and round with its web.

Ooh! Looking close, I spy something small and red in there around its mouth. Could this spider have red fangs? Does that up its creepiness factor? (Perhaps, but only to those who find spiders creepy in the first place. I think they are beautiful!)

I think that everyone would agree that Groundnut flowers are beautiful, especially when viewed from this angle. From other angles, they can appear brownish and dull. There might be disagreement, too, about whether their fragrance is delightful or cloying. I often can detect their odor before I see them hiding among the stalks of the host plants their vines have climbed up on.

Even along the shadiest sections of trail, Pale-leaved Sunflowers caught the sun and glowed like lamps.

The insignificant green flowers of Great Ragweed are easily ignored (except for allergy sufferers when the flowers mature), but their leaves have a very distinctive shape and their stalks will astound when they grow to 15 feet tall or more, with a correspondingly impressive girth.

Brief Bits of Botanizing

Whoo! Too hot and humid for any lengthy excursions today. I satisfied my botanical cravings by scooting about town in my air-conditioned car, making brief stops at two of my favorite local sites, the Skidmore Woods and Yaddo.

Surrounding the parking lot at Skidmore were magnificent stands of Queen Anne's Lace. This is a beautiful flower, yes (my daughter carried it in her wedding bouquet), but it's even more interesting as a murder scene, where predator insects lurk in wait for the myriad pollinators that inevitably stop by. Last year at about this time I caught these Jagged Ambush Bugs performing the dastardly deed on a hapless bee, and I was hoping I might find similar dramas in progress today.

My hopes were raised when I spied this little crab spider assuming attack position.

As soon as it sensed my presence, though, it turned around to confront me. We stared at each other for the longest time, while tiny black bees came and went unharmed. After a while, the sweat started floating my glasses off my nose and I felt I would faint from the heat. As I fled to the shade, I wondered how that little spider managed to keep from cooking out there in the sun.

In a cooler, damper spot near a pond, I found a beautiful green patch of American Water-pennywort. Peering under its flat scalloped leaves, I discovered the tiny flowers hiding out in the axils.

This was my best find today: a Chanterelle mushroom. And many more, too. Enough for a tasty supper dish.

Next stop was Yaddo, but not the fancy formal rose gardens this artists' retreat is famous for. I like to prowl the surrounding woods where gardeners never venture, for it's there I find this Narrow-leaved Mountain Mint with its pretty purple-polka-dot blooms.

American Bladdernut grows there, too, along a little stream. The branches were festooned today with many of the hollow seed-bearing bladders that give this handsome native shrub its name.