Poison Along the Powerline

After our paddle on the Hudson on Saturday, I stopped off at Mud Pond in Moreau Lake State Park, hoping to find Wood Lilies blooming along the powerline that cuts across the top of the pond.  But instead of wide swaths of rich greenery studded with bright orange lilies, this is the blighted sight that met my horrified eyes.

Compared to that vision of desolation pictured above, this is what the same habitat looked like just a year ago, with Blackberries and Sweet Fern providing a lush green foil for the lilies' vivid explosions of orange.

Under another section of powerline nearby, it was Hay-scented Fern that provided the lush greenery last year.

But this year, the whole powerline right-of-way has been turned into a desert of dead and dying plants that have been sprayed with herbicide, evidently applied in the last few weeks, after the trailside plants and adjacent shrubs had already put out their leaves.

Happily, a few plants seem to have been spared a deadly dose of the poison.  One of the few remaining Hazelnut shrubs had actually managed to form fruit clusters.  Look closely and you can see that a similarly-colored caterpillar had found a snug shelter in one of the clusters.

As I hurried to the site where I knew Blunt-leaved Milkweed should be blooming, I breathed a sigh of relief when I spied its deep-pink, very fragrant flowers.

Near where the milkweed was growing, a flower-laden shrub of New Jersey Tea also appeared to have escaped destruction.  

 Since this shrub, as well as the milkweed and surviving Hazelnut, lie directly above the north end of Mud Pond, I wonder if this limited area was spared from spraying, for fear of poisoning the water plants with runoff containing herbicide.  What a disaster it would be if the wonderful variety of Water Lilies and Water Smartweed, Bladderworts and Cattails and many other plants that make up the pond's ecology were to be wiped out.  Obviously, it's not only the plants that would suffer.

I hope the herbicide residues that remain in the soil do not spell harm to the eggs this Mama Painted Turtle was laying on Saturday afternoon.

I did find a very few Wood Lilies struggling to bloom amid the blight, their flowers almost as full and bright as ever, but their foliage severely stunted.   In the same stretch of right-of-way where I counted over 85 lilies last year, I could find only 5 on Saturday.

 Can this spraying of herbicide really be the only economical way to keep powerlines free of plant growth that could entangle wires or impede maintenance of utility poles?  I certainly hope not.  These open areas under power lines serve as an alternative habitat for many plants that in other eras would have thrived in clearings created by forest fires.  We don't let fires clear forests anymore, so these powerline clearcuts are some of the only places certain plants like these beautiful lilies can find a home.

Lilies Along the Line

Remember all those Wood Lilies we found a couple of days ago? Well, then, you can imagine my surprise when my friend Sue learned that there was no official record of Wood Lilies (Lilium philadelphicum) growing in Saratoga County. Knowing that the state botanists can't document this lily's presence in the county without having a vouchered specimen, I set out to collect one today. Normally, I have a very strong inhibition about picking any wildflower, but at least I knew there were lilies to spare where we'd found them two days ago.

After safely pressing my lily specimen between two sheets of corrugated cardboard, I decided to explore other parts of the same power line under which we had found all those lilies. That line stretches for miles in the hills above the Hudson River, carrying power from the hydroelectric dam at Spier Falls. I drove to another access point and hadn't walked ten feet from my car when I began to see other lilies. That was also the case at the third site I explored. I wonder what there is about power lines that lilies like? They certainly seem to enjoy the company of Hay-scented Fern.

As for me, I enjoyed very much exploring the open rocky terrain under the lines, always curious to see what might be growing there. And because the maintenance crews keep the area clear of brush, the walking was really easy, despite the ups and downs.

Of course, lots of nice ripe blueberries added to the pleasure of my walk. There were also Red Raspberries.

There's always lots of clubmoss growing on these rocky, sandy spots. This Tree Clubmoss looked especially charming today, with its sprightly spore stalks just forming and surrounded by starry Haircap Moss.

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This Bristly Sarsaparilla seemed to be already celebrating the Fourth, with flowerheads like exploding fireworks. Here's another flower that remains undocumented in the official flower atlas for the county. But I didn't collect it, since there were only two plants. What truly astounded me, though, was discovering no record either of the far more common Wild Sarsaparilla, ubiquitous in nearly every Saratoga County woods!

I was really pleased to find quite a large patch of Wood Betony, always recognizable by its crinkly leaves even long after its flowers have faded. I could still see the numerous flower stalks, now gone to seed. Come spring, I'll be curious to see if these flowers are yellow or red. The only other two patches I know of in the county bear yellow flowers.

I had many dragonfly companions along the power line. But only two sat still long enough for me to take their photos. They almost seemed negative images of each other. Anybody know their names?

A very helpful reader, Wayne Jones, has identified these dragonflies as both newly emerged, the top one a Widow Skimmer, the bottom one a Common Whitetail. Check the comments to see what he had to say about them.

On my way between power-line access sites, I stopped at the boat launch to stare in amazement at the Hudson below Spier Falls Dam. Somebody pulled the plug! I haven't seen the river this low in probably 15 years. You can see the normal water line above that nearest rock.

Here's the view looking upstream. Two weeks ago, this catchment between Spier Falls and the Sherman Island Dam was full, while the one above Spier Falls was very low. Now the upper catchment is full, while this one is lower than it's been in many, many years. Where's all the water from all the rain we've had lately? If the water level stays this low for some time, it will be fun to see what wildflowers quickly carpet the mud.

This shrubby wildflower was leaning out over the bank. It's called Meadowsweet. Pretty name for a pretty Rose-family flower.

This is Silky Dogwood, the last of our dogwoods to bloom, I believe. Red Osier is first, then Alternate-leaved and Round-leaved about the same time as Flowering, followed by Panicled Dogwood, and finally, this. Their four-petaled flowers all look pretty much alike, but their berries are different colors. Silky's are the most beautiful deep blue.

Silky Dogwood gets its name from the silky hairs that cover its flower stalks.

Here's a beautiful flower that I believe deserves a nicer-sounding name -- although maybe the name Viper's Bugloss suits its coarse and prickly stem, if not its radiant blue blooms with their startlingly hot-pink stamens. An introduced species that nicely decorates our "waste places," it's lovely to look at, but difficult to pick, because it's really prickly.

Here's a closer look at those very colorful blooms.

I pulled my car over as I approached Spier Falls Dam, eager to examine the spring-dampened boulders close to the road across from the dam. I'd been enchanted by the rock-garden beauty of mosses and spring flowers that adorned those boulders in May. What would I find in mid-summer? Unfortunately, masses of Oriental Bittersweet now curtained the boulders nearly completely, but here and there, this remarkably red moss could be seen, often in very intriguing mixed company. Do click on the photo, the better to see all the shapes and colors.

Have you ever seen a moss so richly red? I mean, other than red sphagnum? I was just delighted! And I'd be even more delighted if some of my moss-expert friends could tell me what its name is.

Fun Finds at Mud Pond

I wonder if Sue wore that orange tee on purpose, so she would match the gorgeous orange Wood Lilies we hoped we would find today on the sandy path at the top of Mud Pond at Moreau. We guessed we would find a few, since we did last year around this date, but wow! were we surprised by the multitudes! Like bright orange stars in a deep green sky in places.

We walked the entire length of the power line right-of-way and tried to count the numbers. We think we found somewhere around 85, but every time we looked again we found some others hiding. You wouldn't think that flowers as vividly colored as this could hide from view, but they did.

Another flower we found blooming along that sandy path was Clasping Milkweed (Asclepias amplexicaulis), also called Blunt-leaved Milkweed. Sue had discovered it some days ago, and I was eager for her to show it to me, since I'd never seen it before.

With such a vividly colored flower (and as fragrant as it is colorful), how could I have missed finding it all the years I've been hiking around Mud Pond? There were at least a dozen plants along that power line right-of-way. This one was leaning right over the path, so you couldn't possibly miss it.

Here's a closer look at its pretty pink flower cluster. Newcomb's Wildflower Guide describes its color as "greenish-purple," but I'd say that this was a vivid deep rose.

Leaning in close to inhale the flower's sweet clove-like fragrance, I discovered this insect leg dangling from one of the florets. It sometimes happens that pollinators' legs will get trapped in milkweed flowers, entangled in the threads that join the pollen bundles inside, and often the insect will eventually die of starvation since it can't pull its leg free. It appears that the previous owner of this leg escaped by sacrificing the entrapped appendage. Or maybe the rest of the bug was eaten by an insect predator.

Today was a good one for finding all kinds of interesting critters, including these beautifully iridescent Dogbane Beetles, hanging out on (what else?) some Spreading Dogbane.

Can you tell who's who or what's what with this mating pair of dragonflies? The male (on the right) is clasping the back of the female's head with the tip of his abdomen, while the female has bent her abdomen forward so as to join her sex part with his sex part, which is up there under his thorax somewhere. They're both facing the same direction, although it's pretty hard to see her face, stuck under his abdomen as it is. Lucky for her she doesn't have to breathe through a nose. Male dragonflies can be rough at times, sometimes actually ripping off their female partners' heads.

Here's a coppery-colored damselfly that doesn't follow the normal habit of damselflies, which is to close their wings at rest, unlike dragonflies, which rest with wings spread open. This is one of the Spreadwing damselflies that hold their wings partly open when not in flight. And just see what marvelous wings they are -- so iridescent! Be sure to click on this photo to better see those wings. Also note that l-o-o-o-n-g abdomen, easily twice as long as most damselflies'.

I love the rich brown of this moth's wings, with a scalloped pattern that looks like inlaid wood. I love that furry face, as well. Anybody know its name?

Well, here was a puzzle, indeed! Looks like a wasp, with its wasp-narrow waist, and also looks like a mantis, with those huge grabber arms underneath that long skinny neck. BugGuide.net came through for me again, almost before I finished submitting my photo: this is a Wasp Mantidfly (Climaciella brunnea), and it's not a wasp nor a mantis nor a fly, but belonging to a family of its own, the Mantispidae, which also includes other predators like Antlions. This one had been enjoying its lunch when we disturbed it, for we could see bits and pieces of some other insect strewn across the leaf. And its jaws were moving. Mean as it looks, though, it couldn't hurt you.

This little guy couldn't hurt you, either. And I didn't want to hurt IT, so I made sure I washed the bug dope off my hands before I picked up this tiny toad, still sporting a little bit of its tadpole tail. There were lots and lots of these wee little creatures testing out their new land legs, hopping around close to the shore of Mud Pond.

On the other hand, this guy COULD hurt you, although it looks innocent enough when it's feeling calm, just moseying along eating its leaves, as any Black-etched Prominent Caterpillar is wont to do. Sue was the one who first saw this creature, which was not easy to do, what with its cryptic coloring and almost undetectable movement. Can you tell which end is which? That's its little black head on the right, munching along the leaf edge, tucked up under its lime-green cowl.

I sure guessed wrong at first, especially when it started waving these anal appendages around like front-end feelers. And then these little red tendrils began to emerge, and what we thought was its rear end began to swell up and turn blue.

Then it started to whip those red tendrils around in a frenzy, at the same time arching its other end up until nearly vertical. It really did look pretty scary. Good thing I didn't touch it, since I later read that when it gets really, really mad, it sprays out acid "from a gland on the venter of the first thoracic segment."

Here's a little sweeter image to close this post. New Jersey Tea, a native shrub that the early colonists did use to make tea, was growing thickly along the road as I made my way home. I love how those little puffs of flowers look like exploding fireworks.

Here's a close-up view of a flower cluster. See how those little flower buds are perfect five-pointed stars? How appropriate then, that these flowers always bloom right around the Fourth of July!

A Mud Pond Stopover

After paddling the Hudson this morning (see last post), I still had time to visit Mud Pond for a while this afternoon. The north shore of that pond lies quite close to the road, so it's easy to run right down to the water and see what's happening there. And there's always something. The shoreline is thick with wildflowers and reeds, the pond surface covered with floating plants, the water astir with frogs and turtles and whirligig beetles, and the air alive with dragon- and damselflies. I was happy to see pretty pink Water Smartweed just coming into bloom.

It's always frustrating to try to photograph dragon- or damselflies, since you just get them into focus and ZOT! they're off! And today the wind was whipping the grasses around, so even when they landed they didn't sit still. Luckily, my camera has something called Image Stabilizing, so I did manage to get some shots of a damselfly (?) I had never seen before. Actually, two of them, although I suspect they are the different sexes of the same species. First, this coppery colored one, with a handsomely striped midsection and an abdomen that looks like it's made of bamboo.

Here's a closer view of those marvelous copper eyes.

Now here's the other one, very similar in every way except color scheme. This one is striped black and white. If this is the opposite sex of the coppery one, does anyone know if this is the female or male? And is this not a damselfly, but a dragonfly? It sometimes held its wings open, and sometimes not.

The sand near the waterline was alive with tiny scurrying toads, so I had to be careful not to step on them. They mostly disappeared against the sand or into the water, but this one clung to a piece of grass so I could actually see it. This little guy could have fit on the nail of my pinky finger.

After walking the shoreline close to the water, I headed back up the hillside trail to explore the sandy paths under the power lines. The Hazelnut shrubs were laden with frilly nut clusters already, the Bear Oaks were laden with baby acorns, and I found enough ripe Wild Strawberries to gather a handful. And there among the strawberry leaves I found this odd little gall.

And right smack dab in the middle of the path was this Painted Turtle, probably looking for the right sandy spot to lay her eggs. At the sight of me, she retreated into her shell, and when I picked her up for a closer look, she released a large quantity of pee. I wonder if they pee on the sand to soften it for digging.

Look at her back. What an interesting design right in the middle of her shell. Do all Painted Turtles have the same elegant escutcheon marking? No, they don't. I looked at lots of images of these turtles on the web, and each one has a shell just a little bit different.

Spreading Dogbane was blooming now with its clusters of peppermint-candy-striped flowers on reddish stalks with beautiful blue-green leaves. My whole-plant photos were out of focus, but this close-up shot of a single blossom came out fine.

I ducked into the woods to get out of the sun for a while, and came upon this graceful Indian Cucumber Root with its new-formed fruits that still hold the spidery pistils (?) of its former flowers.

Nearby was a single plant of Bristly Sarsaparilla, with its flower clusters that look like exploding fireworks. Those sprouty little balls will later produce blue-black berries on purple pedicels.

And oh my, speaking of fireworks! Have you ever seen such a vivid, fire-colored lily? It's hard to believe that such a spectacular bloom could be a native wildflower, but it is. This is a Wood Lily, and I found a number of them growing right along the path.