Good for What Ails You

How the heck can you catch a cold when the weather's been so hot? Well, I sure did, and it's made me feel so crummy I almost didn't go for a paddle today. Almost. But domestic duties having kept me close to home for three days, the stress of missing my nature fixes was exacerbating my misery, so I just HAD to get back on the river. And yes, tonight I think I feel a bit better.

I didn't push myself too hard, just moseyed over to the little islands that lie just upstream from the Sherman Island boat launch. Drifting along close to shore, I could simply reach up to the overhanging Black Huckleberries, and handfuls of fruit would tumble freely into my hand. Mmmm. Loaded with antioxidants. Gotta be good for what ails you.

It also felt good to wander around the islands, wading through warm shallow water to see what was blooming today. Golden Pert continues to carpet the shore, punctuated with clumps of Pipewort, its tiny white puffballs perched at the ends of leafless stalks.

Where the shore was a little higher and not quite so saturated, I found a couple of plants of Ditch Stonecrop. I puzzle over the structure of these flowers. The stamens are obvious, and it appears that the flowers have sepals but no petals. So what are those chubby, pointy little buds that circle the center? They are called "carpels," and each one contains an ovary, style and stigma, the female parts of a flower. The entire ring of five carpels composes the pistil.

Back in my boat, I paddled slowly along the river banks, rejoicing to see the Cardinal Flowers in brilliant array. Is there any flower on earth more vividly colored than these?

Everywhere I looked, they were lifting flaming spikes of bloom against the deep shade of the woods.

Wherever multi-branched snags protruded from the water, clouds of damselflies would lift off from their perches as I approached, their needle-slender bodies catching the light. Most were the radiant blue of the Bluets, but some were the slatier blue of this one that landed on the gunwale of my canoe. I can see that it's giving me the eye.

A final treat just before I headed home, this beautiful Frittilary butterfly landed on a Joe-Pye Weed bloom and took its time sipping nectar while I took its photograph.

I've read that happiness is good for your health, measurably increasing blood factors that support the immune system. So thanks, pretty insects and beautiful flowers and scenic river and islands and hills, for the jolts of joy you gave me today. As I said, I feel better already.

Disappointment and Delight

I was sure I could show my friend Ellen that Ragged Fringed Orchis I'd seen at the Hudson Ice Meadows two weeks ago. Ellen lives up in Newcomb and I in Saratoga, so Sunday we agreed to meet halfway on the river banks just north of Warrensburg. Luckily, it was a delightful day for wandering the shore and clambering over the rocks, enjoying the cooling breeze and the sound of rushing water, just hanging out with a friend on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon -- because I never did find that orchid. Not even a trace. Oh well.

Aside from an abundance of Yellow-eyed Grass, we didn't find many other remarkable flowers, either, just the usual riverbank denizens like Joe-Pye Weed and Pickerelweed and various goldenrods and asters. This particular site is so rich in rare and unusual plants that we always expect to be surprised by some great botanical prize when we visit, but the big surprise today was how few flowers we actually did find. But just wait. The autumn will bring forth a whole new crop.

In the meantime, the springs and seeps and pools where water collects among the rocks were alive with damsel- and dragonflies as colorful as any blooms. Ellen took lots and lots of photos, so I'll be checking her blog to see if she posts any shots. I myself was intrigued by this vivid green stuff spreading over some rocks underwater. It was studded with tiny bright yellow balls.

Is this some kind of algae? My knowledge of water plants is sorely limited, so I'm hoping maybe one of our readers will tell us what it is.

Bog Walking on a Muggy Day

Another hot and humid day, with the air lying heavy and close like a damp wool blanket. Probably not the best kind of weather to go explore a bog, but it turned out not so bad. For one thing, Sue and I started early (for us!), so the sun still cast shadows through the Tamaracks and Black Spruce. For another, the cooling bog water seeped up around our feet with almost every step, as we sank into the Sphagnum mat, following deer trails through the Highbush Blueberries, swatting at deerflies and mosquitoes as we went.

What would possess us to tread a bog on such a soggy, buggy day? Well, there were the ORCHIDS. Beautiful, beautiful orchids. And lots of 'em. Just look at this array of White Fringed Orchis, poking up out of the Sphagnum mat like Dandelions on the lawn.

Here's a closer look at those lovely flowers, so porcelain white and pristine, each blossom adorned with a delicate fringe that gives this orchid its name.

And then there were the Grass Pinks, another native orchid, with grass-like leaves and showy blossoms of deep magenta-pink. It's probably a good thing that orchids as spectacular as these grow only in places difficult to get to, or they would probably be picked into extinction.

Another reward for hot, itchy bogwalkers are the prolific blueberry shrubs, heavy with sweet ripe fruit today. We had promised the person who told us about this bog that we would not eat any berries but leave them all for her. Oops! Sorry, Evelyn, couldn't help it, they just fell into my hand when I touched the branch. (And that's the truth.)

She didn't say anything about not eating huckleberries, did she? No, she did not, so we snacked quite freely on these plump Black Huckleberries, made warm by the sun to just explode their juicy sweetness in our mouths.

Among the other plants that grow prolifically in bogs are Pitcher Plants, which fill with water to drown their insect prey and thus gain the nutrients that this habitat lacks. This pitcher almost looks like some kind of animal, with a fat round belly and blood pulsing through its veins.

This tiny red Pitcher Plant looks like it's swallowed a rosette of Sphagnum Moss. Although I'm sure there's another explanation for this odd but charming arrangement.

The Bog Rosemary is long past its blooming, but its dusty-green leaves I find quite beautiful.

These tufts of Tamarack needles look quite spiky, but they're actually quite soft. This tree, which loves the acid conditions found in bogs, is our only conifer that drops all its needles each fall and grows a whole tree-full of new ones each summer.

Ooh, look at this spiky yellow stuff that was growing on grass stalks down among the moss. My guess is that this is a slime mold, possibly one called Leocarpus fragilis (very few slime molds have common names). Slime molds are very interesting, in that they don't fit easily into our standard classification system, possessing traits that are both animal-like and fungus-like. This one has climbed up on the grass stems and twigs, the better to achieve wide distribution for its spores.

Here's another eye-catching array down among the grass stems, a superfine veil of web adorned with tiny droplets.

I would never have seen that web if I hadn't dropped to my knees to photograph this tiny False Pimpernel, which was growing near the gravel parking lot where we'd left our car.

And I never would have seen this flower if Sue hadn't asked me what it was. For wildflower hunting, it sure helps to hunt with a friend who has great eyesight.

A Buggy Day

I hadn't walked for five minutes today when the sweat started dripping down my back and the deerflies arrived to enjoy nice salty bites from my flesh. Grrrr. I actually caught myself wishing that summer would soon be over. But not really. For one thing, I still have lots of flowers to find before frost ends the season, and I was on my way along Skidmore trails to where I knew a beautiful patch of Wild Bergamot grows. And sure enough, I found it in full bloom.

As it turned out, I wasn't the only one interested in these beautiful Mint Family flowers. This Hummingbird Moth paid no attention to me at all as it busied itself among the blooms. So how come I couldn't get a better photo? Well, this guy never stops moving, that's why.

This Tiger Swallowtail was a bit more cooperative, taking a long slow drink of nectar and obligingly opening its wings for me to enjoy.

The Queen Anne's Lace was also in full bloom, attracting lots of insects of its own, like this handsome red and black bug . . .

. . . and this magnificent Monarch Butterfly. Correction: I believe this is instead a Viceroy Butterfly, because of the black band across its lower wings. The non-poisonous Viceroy mimics the poisonous Monarch's coloration as a way to dissuade predators.

But not all the bugs rummaging around in the flowers were so pretty and benign. Just take a look at this murder scene. Here we have a bunch of Jagged Ambush Bugs (thanks BugGuide.net!) feeding on the corpse of a bee, while others pursue a Long-horned Flower Beetle.

Here's a shot of those bugs at work on that bee. It looks like they're sucking it dry with green straws sticking out of their faces. And check out those humongous front legs (The better to grab you with, my dear)!

Okay, we had death, how about a little sex to complete the picture?

This pair of amorous Bluet damselflies obliged.

Sunday Afternoon on the River

Since church takes up most of the morning on Sundays, I rarely plan any ambitious adventures for Sunday afternoons. And today was perfect for a lazy paddle around the rocky islands and quiet coves of the Hudson River at Moreau. How lovely and shimmery the river appeared as I slipped my canoe into its cool and welcoming waters.

I did have a quest that took me on foot through some difficult terrain, but I tolerated the sweaty effort because I knew I could jump in the river to wash off the mud and sweat. My flower journal told me it was time to go looking for Green Wood Orchids where I've found them for several years' running. Unfortunately, they like to grow in mucky ground where fallen trees create a shin-scratching obstacle course for a bare-legged hiker. But sure enough, I had my reward: at least six specimens of this small, kind of unpreposessing plant. There may have been more, but their almost translucent green color makes them hard to see in the surrounding vegetation. A beam of sun poked in through the canopy to reveal this one to me.

My camera kept refusing to focus its macro lens on the individual flowers unless I blocked the background with my fingers. But that's okay, because the fingers provide some scale to reveal how small these flowers are. This photo also reveals the long, curved spur that is one of this orchid's distinguishing features.

I should have stuck my fingers in this photo, too, to show how extremely small these Water Pennywort flowers are. Maybe an eighth of an inch. They like the same kind of mucky ground that the orchids do, and they're even harder to find than those orchids because they hide beneath their leaves.

Here's what the leaves look like, rather pretty in their own right, with those delicate scalloped green discs.

Well, there's no problem at all spotting the Cardinal Flower, since it's easily the flashiest flower that grows. This stretch of the river just teems with them, and the show has just begun.

Smaller and somewhat more subdued in color, Marsh St. Johnswort flowers are just as pretty, but they open for only a short span of time each day, so it's easy to miss them. It was my lucky day to find them fully in bloom.

This Swamp Milkweed is long past its flowering time, but its graceful, slender pods are still a delight to see.

Did you notice the bonus critter in the photo above? This yellow and black striped Monarch caterpillar eats only milkweed before it metamorphoses into the beautiful orange and black butterfly. I'll have to check back later to see if I can find the pale jade-green chrysalis, touched with dots of bright gold.

This Tiger Swallowtail butterfly was enjoying its lunch, sipping the nectar from each tiny floret of Buttonbush balls.

Another bug was feasting on Buttonbush, but it scurried away when I poked my camera at it, so all I captured was its little red and black spotted butt.

Tying my boat back onto my car, I noticed these charming little Mint Family weeds edging the roadside where I had parked.

This is Hemp Nettle, and I realize that they're just a common alien plant and not very showy, at that. But just take a closer look at those tiny blooms, with their fuzzy pates and purple-striped lower lips. I think they're as pretty as any orchid. Certainly prettier than that pale green one I encountered today. And a heck of a lot easier to find.

Baby's Left the Nest!

My heart sank when I checked the robin's nest this morning (Saturday). Oh dear, the baby's gone! My first thought was that some cat had found it and carried it off for breakfast. But if that were so, why were Mom and Dad Robin screaming at me to get out of there?

Oh! That's why.

Just look at you, so grown up! And you were just hatched on June 26. Just two weeks, from egg to hopping about in the Trumpet Vine. I suppose you will want to fly now. Just be careful. Good luck and stay safe.

P.S.: When I came home this afternoon from my outdoor adventures, I looked about in the Trumpet Vine and could find no trace of Baby Robin. Let's hope he's hidden somewhere safe where Mom and Dad can help him grow strong enough to take to the trees. Bye bye. I'll miss you.

Back to My Home Turf

Hey! No fair! The Pipsissewa bloomed without me! I've been so busy running off to explore nature areas far from home that I completely missed the flowering time of one of my favorite local flowers. I find Pipsissewa at Moreau Lake State Park and also at Woods Hollow Nature Preserve in Ballston Spa, where I took the above photo of one a year ago exactly. I returned to Woods Hollow today, only to find the Pips had long gone to seed. Darn!

Everything has bloomed early this year, and this past week of extreme heat only speeded things up even more. It rained last night and was cooler today, which encouraged me to try woodswalking again, repressing my memory of that bug-bombing I endured at Bog Meadow two days ago. But I'm sorry to report that I suffered a double dose of disappointment at Woods Hollow today. Last year, I found there at least a dozen plants of Checkered Rattlesnake Plantain, but today I searched and searched and found only one. Ah well, these little orchids are like that. You just can't count on them coming up in the same place they did last year. I'm lucky I saw this one.

This Choke Cherry offered me some consolation, dangling its garnet-colored fruit so prettily before my eyes and camera lens. It didn't tempt me to taste it, though, since I know that its bitter cherries live up to their name.

Since I was already in Ballston Spa, I next headed over to Kelly Park, a nice little community park on the banks of the Kayaderosseras Creek. A favorite fishing spot, the winding creek is very pretty here, rushing over occasional rapids and shaded by tall cottonwoods.

I'm supposed to lead a nature walk here next Saturday, so I figured I'd better give myself a preview of what we're likely to find. At first glance, all I saw were the standard disturbed-soil alien plants: Chicory, Purple Loosestrife, Queen Anne's Lace, Spotted Knapweed, etc., etc. But then my eyes fell on the old standby natives, the milkweeds and dogwoods and goldenrods that stand up well to alien invasion. The goldenrods were already bulging with leaf and stem galls, so it will be fun to describe the life cycle of the tiny flies that inhabit them -- and the even-tinier wasps that inhabit the flies. (A nice gory story!) Another native plant that was thriving along the creek was this Clammy Ground Cherry. Like the tomato, this is a Nightshade Family plant that produces an edible fruit inside those Japanese-lantern papery pods. Maybe some will be ripe next week so we all can have a taste.

We better not taste this next plant I found, although it belongs to the Parsley Family, which does contain lots of edibles, including carrots and parsnips and yes, parsley, too. But this is Water Hemlock, every part of which is deadly for humans to consume. Isn't it interesting, then, that insects seem to be able to dine on its pollen with impunity? This Feather-legged Fly spent quite a long time exploring every floret, which allowed me lots of time to admire its beauty. Just look at those fringey legs!

The flies were certainly out in force today, but lucky for me, they were pollen-eating hoverflies instead of blood-sucking deerflies. I watched this first one hovering just like a hummingbird around this Common Mullein blossom, until it darted in and grabbed on tight to one of the flower's stamens.

By the fancy black and gold design of its abdomen, I recognized this next hoverfly as one I had photographed before. I never did get a species name for it, however, although I did submit a photo to BugGuide.net. At least I know the name of the flower: Dame's Rocket.

A big surprise for me at Kelly Park was finding a huge stand of American Germander (also called Wood Sage). This handsome Mint Family plant was thriving along the damp woodsy path that followed the creek, and I marveled at how I had never found it growing in Saratoga County. I guess Ijust hadn't looked in the right place before.

At first I mistook the germander for Hedge Nettle, another Mint Family plant with a spike of orchid-like purple flowers. But a closer look at the individual blooms revealed the diagnostic upright stamens and lack of an upper lip. (Please look at the flower only and not at how badly I need a manicure. Your fingernails would be dirty, too, if you'd been digging around in the dirt.)

Here's another plant that took me by surprise at Kelly Park. But I never did figure out what it is, even after poring over all my flower guides at home. Not in my Newcomb's, not in my Peterson's, not in my Audubon's, either. I suspect it's a garden escapee. It was growing close to the edge of the creek, in full sun. If any of my readers recognize it, please leave a comment to let us know what it is. Update: Mystery solved, thanks to NY Chief Botanist Steve Young, who has ID'd this as Garden Loosestrife (Lysimachia vulgaris), a Eurasian native escaped from cultivation.

Here's a familiar fellow almost everyone knows the name of.

Daddy Longlegs was trying to hide from me on the other side of this Curly Dock stalk, but I chased him out front so we could all say hello. And then I said goodbye. Time to go home. And glad to be back in my home county, where I still keep finding new stuff.