I Think She's a Keeper

Okay, just one more photo.  I can't help myself.  This little darling has truly won our hearts and I think we can't let her go.  Of all the three kittens, she's the friendliest, actually seeking our company, running to greet us, and purring loudly when we rub her tiny silky neck.  The other two are gentling nicely, hissing at us only now and then, but still rather shy compared to this one. We've named her Cleo, because the markings around her eyes remind us of the kohl eyeliner of Egyptian queens.  Here she is, mewing at the porch door, begging us to let her in to be with us.

Baby Kitties Are Settling In

I've not been getting outdoors much, since I can hardly tear myself away from watching my new babies. Is there anything cuter than tiny toddling kittens at play?

I Found Them!

Remember those three little kittens I wrote about a few posts back?  Their feral mother hid them again the day after I tried to gentle them, and they didn't come back to my yard.  I was afraid that it wouldn't be long before they would grow too wild to ever tame.  So today I went hunting for them among the abandoned buildings behind my house.  I probably wouldn't have found them if they hadn't all started hissing and spitting as soon as they saw me coming close to their hiding place.  Poor little scaredy cats!  Ignoring their tiny teeth and claws that didn't have enough strength behind them to hurt me, I gathered them up against my chest and hurried home, determined to keep them confined until they could overcome their frantic wildness enough to make nice pets.

I took them all to the veterinarian, who pronounced them all healthy and old enough to be weaned.  No fleas or ear mites, but two did have Cuterebra larvae under their skin, only one of which was big enough to remove.  So I'll have to take one kitten back in a week or so when the larva gets big enough to see and extract.

They've probably never had solid food, but they did lick some canned kitten chow off of my fingers and I gave them some special cat-digestable milk.  The vet assured me that they will eat when they get hungry enough.  He also told me that the dark tiger is a male, the other two little cuties are females.

We may keep the little tiger for ourselves, so that means we need to find homes for the little girls.  Aren't they adorable?  Free to a good home, if you promise to have them neutered.

Now I'm trying to locate an organization that will trap their mother, spay her, and let her return to the woods behind my house, probably too wild to ever be anybody's pet.  But who knows?  I've heard stories of feral cats that eventually came to trust the humans who fed them.  But she may hate me forever for stealing her little babies.

A Good Day for Fungi, But No American Ladies

Thunder was rumbling and dark clouds were rolling in fast, but I couldn't turn back now.  I'd already risked my car's axles lurching up rock-strewn Hawk Road to the parking area for the Warren County trails of Moreau Lake State Park.  If I ran I might be able to reach the clearing where last year I found dozens of American Lady caterpillars building their shelters in a field full of Clammy Everlasting.  (Click here to see what I found exactly one year ago.)

Well, the American Ladies weren't there this year, nor was there a single stalk of Clammy Everlasting in that field, which this year was filled with White Snakeroot instead.  Huh!  Strange, how the flora and fauna could change so completely in just one year.  I was, however, happy to see that the Purple Milkworts were blooming better than ever, especially since when I came here a week or so ago, they were withered and brown from excessive heat and lack of rain.

At this point, the thunder was booming nearly overhead, and raindrops started pattering down on the sandy path.  Time to hurry back to my car, but wait a minute, what's this bug?  It's not a grasshopper, nor is it a cricket, despite those cricket-like long antennae.  And look at those wee little under-developed wings.  I'll bet that this is a nymph of some bug, maybe a katydid.  Anybody know?

While peering closely at that bug, I also noticed the flower it was perched on was not what I first thought it was.  Since Spotted Knapweed was rife along this road, I had assumed that all these purple tufty things were that species.  But this flower was bigger and fuller than the others, its involucre fat and brown instead of greenish and pinched, and the bracts looked very different, too.  I'm guessing that this must be Brown Knapweed, also an introduced species, but one that's not as aggressive an invader as its Spotted cousin.  Here's a closer look at the two species for comparison.  Brown's on the left, Spotted on the right.

We've had no shortage of rain the last few days, which has spurred lots of fungi to fruiting.  This splendid apricot-colored gilled mushroom had sprouted right in the middle of the path, and I chanced to kick it over as I hurried through the rain that was now beginning to fall in earnest.  That gave me a chance to see its bulbous end and pale yellow, velvety stalk.  Could this be an amanita of some kind?  I see traces of a veil remaining on the cap, but I don't see the stalk ring so typical of amanitas.

Oh my, what an odd-looking puffball we have here!  Looks like a chocolate cupcake with dabs of white frosting.

When I turned it over to see how it was rooted, those dabs of "frosting" fell right off the top, although the underside remained encrusted.

When I got home I searched my mushroom books, and found the closest match.  Would you believe that the name of this one is WHITE Puffball (Lycoperdon candidum)?!  Chocolate Marshmallow is a name that would suit it better.



Searching the web for "purple mushrooms," I found many photos of mushrooms that looked like this next one, and most of them were being called Violet Cort.  But when I looked at Violet Corts in three different mushroom guides, all of them had velvety-textured, rather than shiny-smooth, caps.  Oh well.  Whatever its name, it certainly looked beautiful snuggled in among sphagnum moss.

Mountain Trails Yesterday, Sand Plains and Creek Beds Today

Looking over the Hudson River from a mountain ledge in Moreau Lake State Park

How lucky I am to have so many nature sites to choose from! Last Thursday, Sue and I sat on that Moreau mountain ledge and shared ideas about where to meet next: A paddle on river or pond or fen? A hike through calcareous woodlands or a slog through a bog? Shall we wander an oak-pine savannah or climb to a height where limestone boulders are riddled with caves? The Ice Meadows beckon with lots of rare plants, as well as a great place to swim. How about those shale cliffs where Grass of Parnassus should just be starting to bloom? Truly, an embarrassment of riches, and all within a short drive away.

Just yesterday, I managed to explore two very different habitats hardly a mile apart, fitting both in between lunch and dinner, with time to spare to run errands.

The Woods Hollow Sand Plains

My first stop was the Woods Hollow Nature Preserve in Ballston Spa, a site that offers both wooded wetlands and open sand plains. I chose to spend my time there exploring the open sands.

While much of that open area is barren and dry, some damper parts are now lush with meadow flowers, including these handsome Black-eyed Susans.

Although the invasive Purple Loosestrife has found a too-comfortable niche in this meadow, it sure looks like many of our native wildflowers, like Boneset and Tall Goldenrod, have managed to keep that botanical bully in its place. There's no denying that those purple spires sure look lovely as part of the mix. (Many butterflies also added their colorful notes to this scene, but none would sit still for the picture-taking.)

A much smaller, low-growing native wildflower also thrives here in this sandy soil. This is Slender Gerardia (Agalinis tenuifolia), which bears its half-inch blooms on slender stalks.

I was happy to have caught a few blooms still remaining on the Blue Curls plants (Trichostema dichotumum). They usually shed their flowers by noon, but because the day was overcast, with occasional showers, some of the flowers had hung on into the afternoon. This plant is very happily at home in barren sands where little else will grow.

Here's a closer view of those long curling stamens that give this flower its common name.

Here's another plant that occupies barren sands where little else will grow. It's called Winged Pigweed (Cycloloma atriplicifolium), and don't bother to look in Newcomb's for it, because it's only a recent resident of the northeastern states. Originally a native of the central plains, it has expanded its range so successfully that the USDA distribution map shows it now inhabiting most of the U.S. and Canada. But not Saratoga County, oddly enough.

Ouch! Oh yeah, Sandbur grows here, too. Prolifically. Be careful where you walk. It's no fun pulling those burs from your tangled shoelaces.

Now, this was quite a surprise! Sue and I couldn't find Nodding Ladies' Tresses (Spiranthes cernua) on our climb up the mountain on Thursday, but here it was growing abundantly among the horsetail reeds in a sandy meadow. It wasn't yet in bloom to confirm the species, but what other Spiranthes could it be this late in summer?

In the shady woods at the edge of the meadow, Virgin's Bower (Clematis virginiana) was now fully in bloom, winding its leaf stalks around the neighboring shrubs' supporting branches.

While no butterflies would hold still long enough for their portraits, these Goldenrod Soldier Beetles were so occupied with their own affairs they completely ignored my camera.

This Locust Borer Beetle was also occupied, exploring every floret for food, but I did have to chase it around the top of the Boneset bloom. This is one big handsome bug, with its tiger stripes and bright red legs.

Another big handsome critter, this Argiope garden spider was also occupied with eating, its mouth parts busily working over that silk-wrapped bundle caught in its signature zig-zag web.

The Kayaderosseras Creek Bed

A few drops of rain were wetting the sand and thunder was rumbling overhead, but I took a chance I could still explore a very different kind of site just a short drive away from Woods Hollow. From the Northline Road parking lot at Woods Hollow, I travelled east no more than a mile to the Gray's Crossing Canoe Access site along the Kayaderosseras Creek. Here is a habitat as lush and green as the sand plains were barren and dry.

Most of the plants along this creek bottom seem super-sized, especially the Great Ragweed (Ambrosia trifida) that thrives here. These six-foot shade-growing plants were less than half the size of others that were towering over the creek in open sun, their stalks as big around as my wrist.

Pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) is a big plant everywhere it is found, but here along the creek it reaches giant proportions. The plant as a whole is kind of sprawling and homely, but its berries sure are beautiful. Lime-green now, the berries will turn a deep purple later, while the pedicels remain this vivid hot pink.

Wild Cucumber (Echinocystis lobata) sprawls across acres of shrubbery here, its starry flowers on upright stalks spilling a heavenly fragrance as I walked among its vines.

Here's a closer look at the Wild Cucumber's flowers and leaves, plus the tightly coiled tendrils by which it grabs and overwhelms every obstacle in its unrelenting progress. By autumn, plum-sized hollow fruits that look like little green hedgehogs will dangle from those vines.

A second surprise today! I hardly ever come across Butternut trees, but here was one standing tall along the creek, laden with nuts.

The Butternut resembles its close relative, the Black Walnut, in having thick, green, lemony-scented husks, but the Butternut fruits are ovate, rather than round like the walnut's.

There were heaps and heaps of Jewelweed, both Spotted and Pale, growing along the creek. I tried about 50 shots before I captured this big bee disappearing into the throat of a bloom. The bee was in and out in a flash, before my camera could focus. I can't believe my lucky stars that one photo came out.

The trail that takes you along the creek eventually turns to pass through a meadow before returning to the parking area. The goldenrod species towering overhead sure lives up to its common name of Tall Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis var. scabra), especially along this trail.

Joining the goldenrod to signal approaching autumn was this coral-colored willow branch.

Whoa! Did I say autumn? Come on, it's still high summer, isn't it? So what's this New England Aster doing in bloom? I think it's New England Aster, anyway, since I know of no other aster that blooms around here whose flowers are such a rich purple. But hey, this species isn't supposed to bloom until late September.

I wish this Yellow-collared Scape Moth would have opened its wings a bit more for the picture-taking. When it flew, its abdomen flashed a beautiful blue, but then when it landed it closed those chocolate wings. There were dozens of these colorful creatures feeding in the Joe Pye-weed, and I snapped lots and lots of photos. They were too fast for my camera, though, so none were perfectly in focus. At least you can see the colors in this shot.

Our New Kitty Family!

Longtime readers of this blog may remember that my husband and I have been feeding a feral cat we named Harley since last winter. He is truly feral, not just a stray, and wants nothing to do with us humans. Except our food. But even after a year of feeding him every day, he still tears away when we open the door with his plate of food, and will not approach the food until we have retreated behind closed doors.

This spring, Harley started bringing another feral cat along with him, a pretty little tiger we assumed was a female. My husband named her Dido. She, too, is truly wild and will not allow any human to come near her.

It soon became evident that Dido was pregnant. Uh oh. One pregnant cat leads to hundreds of cats in a couple of years. We decided to try to trap and confine her until her kittens were born and weaned, so that we could socialize the kittens, making them adoptable. Perhaps Dido could be tamed, as well, but if not, we would have her spayed and released to remain a neighborhood feral. A well-fed one, though.

Too late. Before we could act on our plan, it was evident that Dido had had her kittens. That was about a month ago. We didn't know where she had hidden them. She continued to come daily for us to feed her, but still would not allow any human to even approach her.

But just yesterday, we saw some activity over in a brushy corner of our backyard where we had stacked some plastic chairs. Sure enough, there was a tiny gray and white kitten romping and tussling with another, three-colored one. A third, a gray tiger, remained nearly hidden in the greenery. The kittens remained there all day, with their mother lying among them to nurse them from time to time. At one point, Dido had momentarily disappeared and I approached the kittens and tried to touch them. Oh boy, you should have heard the hissing and spitting and growling and seen those tiny bodies lunging and clawing! Such ferocity in such fragile little creatures! Ok, ok, little guys, I'll leave you alone.

The kittens were still here today, romping and playing back in that brushy corner. Today I decided I would try to pick them up and see if I could calm them by petting them, start getting them used to human contact so that we might be able to find homes for them. As I approached their area, the terrified little babies started their defensive behavior once more, but this time I reached right in past the flying claws (the claws are still rather soft) and grasped this gray-and-white one by the nape of the neck and lifted it up to my chest.

It continued to yowl and spit and claw, but the demonstration of terror diminished as I stroked the side of its head and under its chin and held it close against my chest. Soon it was snuggled under my chin, rooting its little pink nose in the skin of my neck, and its little body curled quietly into the cup of my hands. When this kitten was quiet, I gently put it down and continued to pet it while it walked around, this time with no frightened reaction to my touch. I then repeated this procedure with the other two.

This little tiger was the hardest to calm. He's a wiry little guy (I checked under his tail to check his sex) and very strong for such a tiny creature. I felt so sorry for him when I felt his frantic heart beating so fast beneath my fingers. But even he finally gentled to my touch and the sound of my voice, and curled quietly in my hands.

Photo: Denis Donnelly

Is this not an adorable little creature? Wouldn't you like to give this little darling a home?

Photo: Denis Donnelly

Please take good care of me, won't you?

Photo: Denis Donnelly

See how cute I am, with that gray spot right in the middle of my tickleable tummy.

Now I'm hoping that Dido doesn't decide to move her babies beyond my reach. I believe that if I visit them daily and touch them and hold them and bring them treats, they should make very nice pets, ready to find a home in about two weeks. Anybody want a sweet little kitty?

Update: Oh phoo! Mama must have been mad that I handled her babies and has hidden them where I can't find them. I suppose that eventually they will all come around to be fed at our back door, but I hope they won't be too wild by then to make pets of. I need a nine-year-old boy to go prowling the neighborhood underbrush and locate them.

Trudging Up to the Overlook

Hot and muggy today. Not the kind of day I would normally choose to climb a mountain, but Sue and I wanted to see if the Ladies' Tresses were blooming along the Spring Overlook Trail in Moreau Lake State Park, and the only way to get there is up, up, up. Luckily, though, the trail is green and shady, and the day was overcast at first, so we were spared direct sun.

The Ladies' Tresses site is only half way up to where the trail opens onto a rocky ledge providing expansive views of the Hudson River below and Luzerne Mountains beyond. When we didn't find our flowers today, we continued climbing the rest of the way to the top. Every time we get there we have to acknowledge that the view is worth the effort. There's usually a nice breeze, too, to dry the sweat from our trudging.

With the day so hazy, the mountains appeared shrouded in mist as, tier after tier, they diminished in color until they disappeared against the sky.

Just because we didn't find our Ladies' Tresses, that doesn't mean we came away disappointed. There's always SOMEthing wonderful to see along the trail. Even before we started up, we saw these two Green Frogs on a plank by a spring, just sitting there waiting for Sue to come along and take their picture.

What a pair! One big, one little, same color, same pose, same direction. Cute!

For once, I was able to show Sue something first (those two Green Frogs). It's usually she who points out the really cool stuff in the woods and along the trail. I certainly never would have seen this tiny Wood Frog if Sue had not pointed her finger at him. For one thing, his color makes him blend in with the background, and for another, he was really, really tiny. He could have fit comfortably into that acorn cap.

And here's another teensy weensy critter that Sue had to coax me into seeing. It's some kind of worm or bug covered from head to toe in blue shaggy fur that was cruising around the stems and leaves of a Tick Trefoil stalk. There were quite a few of these tiny blue dots inhabiting the Tick Trefoil plants, but most of them dropped off and disappeared before we could examine them very closely. I'm still waiting for someone at BugGuide.Net to get back to me with an ID.

And here's a little blue butterfly, less than an inch across with wings folded up. I believe that this is an Eastern Tailed Blue, although there's just a little point near that orange marking where normally a tail would occur. My Audubon insect guide informs that sometimes these Eastern Tailed Blues don't have any tails at all.

Talk about small! Dwarf St. Johnswort (Hypericum mutilum) is always small, but the ones we found along the trail today were really small. Part of our trail today passed under a power line, and it appears that the power company has sprayed some kind of herbicide under the lines, because there was a wide swath of dead vegetation in that area. Only a few very hardy plants have managed to struggle back to life there, and these tiny St. Johnsworts were one of them.

On second thought, could this be another kind of St. Johnswort altogether, just one that's dwarfed by the poisoned ground? I always associate Dwarf SJ with damp places, and this place was very dry.

Pilewort (Erechtites heiracifolia) is one of those sturdy plants that are the first to repopulate cleared or burned-over land, and it was growing abundantly in areas where other plants had died. Although this plant has foliage that's quite handsome, its flowers are hardly showy, looking like tight greenish-purple, fuzz-topped buds that never open.

Ah, but a closer look at a dismantled flower head reveals that those "buds" are indeed already in flower. If you click on this photo you can see the curving styles that have pushed their way through the staminate tubes, collecting pollen as they protruded. (I see that a little bug has discovered that pollen.) When the flower goes to seed, those heads will form dandelion-like puffs, each seed attached to silky fibers that will carry it away on the wind.

I was happy to see that a large patch of Pink Earth Lichen was still inhabiting its boulder, unfazed by the application of herbicide in the surrounding area. Those little pink blobs are only about the size of the head of a pin. Because it's so small, this lichen is easy to overlook (and again, it was Sue who saw it first), but it certainly deserves a closer look if you find it.

Even I could see the brilliant color of these Hornbeam leaves scattered across the forest floor. I love those bright green stripes on the yellow background.

Here's a fungus that's hard to miss, too. (Although, once again, it was Sue who pointed it out some distance into the forest from the trail.) This is Chicken-of-the-Woods, and when gathered young, it does indeed taste like chicken. This one was too old to eat, but it hadn't lost much of its color. Or its size. The large clump on the left was easily three feet across.

This is another vividly colored shelf fungus, but I do not know its name. I find it frequently in Moreau Lake State Park, but I don't find anything like it in any of my mushroom guides. This is just a little one, attached to the end of a stick like a finial on a sceptre. I carried it with me the rest of our hike, pretending I was the queen of all I surveyed. And who's to say I was not?