Butterfly Bonanza

Darn!  I should KNOW not to leave my house without my camera!  Walking through Congress Park just a block from my home today, I was marveling at the glorious proliferation of Ground Ivy and Dandelions, two common but absolutely lovely weeds that are MY idea of what makes a perfect lawn.  And I soon discovered I was not alone in my appreciation.  Dozens of beautiful butterflies -- mostly Red Admirals but one or two others I couldn't identify -- were fluttering among the flowers, lighting here, then there, even holding a pose that would have made for a perfect portrait.  If only I'd had my camera.  The photos above and below are ones from my photo files.

I had never seen Red Admirals traveling in flocks, so when I got home I looked up information about them and learned that this is a butterfly that migrates south for the the winter, with adults returning again in the spring.

Well, I thought this was fascinating and delightful and was telling my family about it at dinner tonight when what should I see come and land right outside my window?  That's right, a Red Admiral.

I went running outside to try to capture a better photo of the butterfly, but unfortunately, it promptly flew away.  No matter, there were other delights.  My own back yard is on its way to becoming a perfect lawn, with violets crowding so closely I hope they will eventually push out all the grass.

While I was out there I looked around at what else was blooming and was really surprised to see these Celandine Poppies, several weeks earlier than ever before.

Hey butterflies, didn't you notice these gorgeous yellow flowers just waiting for you?  I bet they'll soon be back.  Or maybe they like the Dandelions even better.

A Nature-adventure Weekend

Whew!  It was one busy weekend, with so many nature adventures I hardly had time to sleep, let alone post a blog.   So I'll try to cover them all in one post.

Audubon Walk at Bog Meadow

Saturday morning had me up early to head out to Bog Meadow Nature Trail for an Audubon-sponsored birdwalk with noted expert Rich Speidel leading a small group of avian enthusiasts, all with much better eyesight than I.   I figured it was a great opportunity to increase my awareness of many birds I will never see, and I was right.

If you asked any of the folks in the photo above about what birds they saw, they would be able to describe in wonderful detail the cant of the Wilson's Snipes' bills as they flew by in a rapid blur, or the diagnostic vertical white stripe on the sides of the Green-winged Teals that kept slipping out of sight behind reeds on the faraway side of the marsh.  They could also cock an ear to a sound and tell me immediately that that was the call of the very elusive Virginia Rail, or the constant chatter of several Swamp Sparrows, or the ritardando drumming of a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker as it pounded away on a hidden tree in the woods along the trail.

At the end of the walk, my birding friends were able to count over 30 species they'd either seen or heard, and I was happy to take their word for it and be amazed.  As for me, I couldn't even see this Ruby-crowned Kinglet circled in the photo below until after I had blown up the picture on my computer.  My companions kept pointing at this shrub just a few feet from my face, so I pointed my camera and snapped a shot of the twigs, hoping the camera would catch what my eyes could not.

Happily, this Yellow-bellied Sapsucker announced its presence with more fanfare, so that all I had to do was wait until the bird made its way back around the trunk it was pecking at with its distinctive pattern of knocks.

The multitudes of Red-winged Blackbirds also were not shy about showing themselves, and I did actually lay my eyes upon two Brown-headed Cowbirds profiled against the sky.  For the most part, however, I just took pleasure in knowing what others were seeing and kindly attempting to show me.  Of course, there were many botanical pleasures to be had, as well, such as these tiny Panicled Dogwood leaves lit up like Christmas-tree lights by the early morning sun.

*  *  *

Forest Trekking with Evelyn

Sunday came, and again I rose early, in time to meet my friend Evelyn Greene for adventures in the Charles Lathrop Pack Demonstration Forest north of Warrensburg.  Named after an Adirondack lumberman who donated this 2500-acre tract to the State University of New York's College of Environmental Science and Forestry,  the forest contains an 85-acre lake plus miles of trails leading to mountain vistas, marshes, and old-growth stands containing some of the tallest White Pines in the Adirondacks.  On the needle-cushioned ground beneath these pines grows one of our most uncommon Rattlesnake Plantains, a little orchid called Goodyera repens, and finding those plants was one of the goals that Evelyn had set for our adventure today.  But first we were going to climb little Ben Wood Mountain in the northern end of the tract, following several miles of forested trails that led to a lovely overlook.

Along the way to the mountain top we passed by a beaver pond, beautifully serene in the still morning air and a place of welcome refreshment for our doggy companion, Brio.

I believe that Ben Wood Mountain offers one of the finest payoffs for the least amount of huffing and puffing I have ever experienced.  Wide logging roads at an easy incline brought us out onto this rocky overlook, with views of the many-tiered mountains beyond.

Accompanying us all along our trail were three of the sweetest singers in all the forest:  the piccolo-plaintive White-throated Sparrow, the coloratura Winter Wren, and the mezzo-soprano Hermit Thrush, a bird I think of as the Marilyn Horne of the north woods.  How wonderful to have these marvelous voices back among us!  We were also serenaded by the constant twittering of dozens of Pine Warblers high in the treetops.  I've heard that this bird looks something like a flying lemon when viewed from below, but this is all we could see of them, even though these pines were alive with fluttering flocks of them.  Evelyn did catch sight of one with her binoculars, but only a glimpse that allowed her to be quite positive as to the species.

Fortunately, there were other beauties along the trail that we could feast our eyes on at length, such as these vividly yellow Round-leaved Violets.

We also saw masses of Hepaticas, a flower that's nearing the end of its blooming time down in Saratoga but which still bloomed profusely along the Pack Forest trails.

Considerably more cryptic in its coloration, this American Toad would have remained unseen if it had just stayed put.  At least it didn't hop so far and fast I couldn't snap its photo.

* * *

Goodyera and Grandmother

The next phase of our day's adventure took us to the southern end of the Pack Forest tract, to a well-marked nature trail that took us into the heart of an old-growth woods, where pines of astounding height and girth towered over our heads.

Evelyn remembered finding our sought-after Goodyera repens a year or so ago,  but that was before the terrible storms of last summer brought down vast numbers of trees, making it difficult to search the ground under the blow-down.

But find the Goodyera she did, a nice patch of it, at least 15 plants clustered near the shore of an open marsh.  This is the smallest and least common of our native Goodyeras, with the most appropriate name of Dwarf Rattlesnake Plantain.  The distinctive pattern of the leaves, as well as its diminutive size, are what set it apart from the other two Rattlesnake Plantains we can find in our area, the Downy (G. pubescens) and the Checkered (G. tesselata).  All bear tiny white orchid flowers in a tall spike later in the summer.

I think this photo should reveal how amazing it is that Evelyn found those tiny plants.   Once she had shown them to me and I now had a search image, I, too, found a single plant not far from the patch she had found.  We shall have to come back again in July to maybe find them in bloom.

Almost as hard to see as the Goodyera, this Wood Frog tried to hide itself among some Hemlock blow-down.

As long as we were here and so near, we decided to visit Grandmother,  as this enormous pine that stands along the boardwalk is called.  What's remarkable is that this particular tree hardly stands out, surrounded as it is by other giants.   But yes, when you stand right beneath it, its girth impresses mightily as its top disappears in the faraway canopy above.  How lucky it is, that last summer's hurricane did not bring it down, as it did so many other huge trees in surrounding areas.

This sign explains how the tree got its name.  We noticed a gash caused by lightning along its trunk, reminding us that even giants can be vulnerable.  So if you live anywhere near it, be sure to visit this amazing tree while it still stands.

Deer Mountain Nature Trail

On Thursday this week, my friends in the group that calls itself the Thursday Naturalists introduced me to yet another site rich in botanical treasures,  the Deer Mountain Nature Trail in Ravena, NY, about 15 miles south of Albany.  This site, founded in 1995 when a cement company agreed to set aside for protection about 170 acres of its property, offers trails through both low wetlands and dryer upland forest, providing habitat for a wonderful variety of plants.  Above, our group follows the trail that leads through a wooded swamp, burgeoning this week with unfurling wetland ferns.  Below, we pause to examine the trailside boulders that were sheltering many ferns and flowers that prefer a dryer, calcareous habitat.

The woods was lovely, with many understory trees, such as these American Hornbeams,  putting forth their baby translucent leaves that seemed to float on the air.

We were delighted to find the Spicebush shrubs still in bloom, their bright yellow blooms standing out against the dark green of the hemlocks.

The most numerous flowers of the forest floor were these pristine white Rue Anemones.

In the wetlands, we found these tiny white violets just starting to bloom.  We also found similar violets growing on dryer ground,  and after much discussion, we could not decide if we were seeing two species of violet, the Northern White and the Sweet White, or simply the same violet in different settings.  We opted to call them Small White Violets.  These early whites are notoriously difficult to tell apart.

This is probably the Common Blue Violet, but something about it seems different to me, both the breadth of its flower face and the downiness of its stem. But who knows?  Several species that used to be considered distinct are now included under the species name for Common Blue Violet, Viola sororia.  As they say, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, and a violet by any name is always lovely.

No argument about this one:  Wild Ginger, with a nice cluster of brown flowers still visible under its unfolding furry leaves.   When the leaves are fully open, you really have to hunt to see the flowers.

Well, here was a new one for many of us:  Wild Plum (Prunus americana).  This is not considered to be that uncommon a small tree in woodland thickets, but it's often overlooked because it blooms at the same time as the ubiquitous Shadblow.   As far as I know, I have never seen it before.  I sure hope I find it again, such a pretty thing it is, with white flowers touched with pink.  And very fragrant.

A closer look reveals the distinctive Prunus structure of the blossom, common to all stone fruits, with a single pistil that produces a single seed,  unlike the multi-pistillate apple blossom, which produces a capsule containing multiple seeds.   More importantly, a closer look reveals how really lovely these blossoms are.

Spring Progress Report, April 13

Sorry, dear readers, I've just been too busy to blog much this week, running all over the county (and beyond) to stay abreast of all that is happening in the woods.  But I've finally sorted through all the daunting hundreds of photos I took (most of them discards), so now I can file this report on what's doing the blooming.

On Wednesday, I stopped by the Orra Phelps Nature Preserve on my way to the Hudson River at Moreau.  In a dampish area along the trail, masses of  Dog Violets were just starting to open their pale lavender blooms.  This is one of our "stemmed" violets, with flowers and leaves both sprouting from the same stem, distinguishing it from our Common Blue Violet, which has basal leaves only and a leafless flower stem.

On a higher and dryer bank further on, I found the Dutchman's Breeches dangling their little white pantaloons.  In a few days, those yellow tips will open and spread to allow the bumblebees to insert their long proboscises into the nectaries deep inside the blossoms.

A surprising find in a nature preserve renowned for its native flora, this Siberian Squill, a horticultural species, must have escaped from some neighboring flower garden.  Let's hope that it knows how to mind its company manners and not take over the woods, as introduced species are often wont to do.

 The Periwinkle is just such a species of introduced plant that has taken to our native woodlands way too happily.   There's no question that it's a beautiful plant, bearing abundant blooms of the loveliest blue.

 The problem is, that wherever Periwinkle grows, absolutely no other flower is allowed to share its ground.  In this thoroughly periwinkled patch of woods that borders the Hudson River at Moreau, not a violet nor trillium nor Jack-in-the-pulpit can be found for acres around.

On Thursday I joined the Thursday Naturalists on a trip to a nature preserve south of Albany (an adventure that will be described in a separate post), and today, Friday,  I went for a walk through the Skidmore Woods.  This particular woods, with its limey soils, is famous for its wonderful array of spring ephemerals, including many different species of violets.  The first ones I came across today were the beautiful Long-spurred Violets, snuggled into crannies of the many boulders that form the forest substrate.  These violets can be quite pale in color, almost as if all their color had run to pool in dark patches at the center.

Another violet blooming today was the Downy Yellow Violet, with an obviously downy stem.

Dwarf Ginseng was just beginning to open its clusters of tiny white flowers.  Unlike its much larger cousin that is sought after for medicinal uses and which persists into the fall, this tiny plant will completely disappear soon after its blooming period ends.

Wood Anemone held its pristine white flowers completely open to the warm sun today.  If a chill descends, or clouds cover the sky, those blooms will retreat into their pinkish bud covers.

The purplish-brown variety of Blue Cohosh bloomed last week (and continues blooming still), but this variety with greener flowers was just opening today. 

My botanist friends cannot all agree upon whether we have two species, or just some variations. Some botanical sites I've visited indicate that the earlier bloomers with consistently purple flowers are Caulophyllum giganteum, while this one, which opens a little later with flowers that are assuredly green, is C. thalictoides.   In all other respects except flower color and blooming time, the plants appear identical.


Mayapple has pushed its tightly folded umbrellas up from the earth.  The fully mature plants that have two leaves will bear a flower (and later, a fruit), the bud of which can be seen peeking out from between the still-folded leaves.
 

In a couple of weeks, stunning masses of Large-flowered White Trilliums will cover large areas of the woods.  For the present, we have to search to find the much more solitary Red Trillium, which tends to hide its pretty face by bending downward under its leaves.  I confess that I lifted this bloom up and placed it atop its leaves, the better to capture its vivid color in a photograph.

The odd weather this spring has played tricks with the normal schedule of bloom for many spring flowers, with many blooming far earlier than ever before.  The recent stretch of much colder weather has slowed that process considerably, so that many early bloomers are still with us.  The Bloodroot, for example, which usually comes and goes in a few brief days, is still coming up and opening its sweet sunny faces all over the woods.

The Trout Lilies have just exploded into bloom from when I reported finding just one or two a few days ago.  Now they carpet some areas of the woods so thickly it's impossible to walk among them.  I hope those darned Red-necked False Blister Beetles finally get their fill of lily pollen and leave some of those lovely crimson anthers alone.

Speaking of crimson, the maple trees are now unfolding their bunches of tiny red leaves.  What a sight it is, when these translucent leaves catch the sunlight and glow like stained glass.

This Red Maple tree stands in front of my house, where the sight of its vivid red boughs against that deep blue sky just took my breath away as I arrived home today.

Puppies!

 Here are my brand new grandpuppies.  That's Georgia, above and to the right below, with her sister Nala sleeping beside her.  We went down to Mt. Kisco to my daughter's for Easter and got to meet the little darlings.

The puppies are 7-week-old Bernese Mountain Dogs that will grow to weigh well over a hundred pounds.  Right now they are just little bundles of fluff and absolutely adorable.