I Found a New Flower -- and an Airport! -- in North Creek

Who would have thought that a little Adirondack town like North Creek would have its own airport?  I sure didn't, so I was quite surprised when my friend Evelyn Greene (who lives in North Creek) suggested we take a walk there to look for Fringed Gentians.  OK, sure, I said, knowing that whatever Evelyn suggests is bound to be an adventure.  So off we set down a dirt road that led  to this lovely open greensward surrounded by forest and offering a splendid view of nearby Moxham Mountain:  the airport at North Creek.

That airport's green grass landing strip looked more like a golf course than an airport, and it made for a lovely place to walk on a quiet September Sunday afternoon,  when we had to dodge neither incoming aircraft nor errant golf balls.  Evelyn and I were joined there by our friend and fellow wildflower enthusiast, Bob Duncan.

Evelyn seems to know intimately every inch of land surrounding her home for miles, and several years ago she had recognized a patch of dampish soil along the airport's runway as the perfect spot for Fringed Gentians to grow.   So she obtained some seeds and scattered them there among the asters and goldenrods and especially the Bog Lycopodium that had indicated the right soil chemistry for this lovely blue late-summer flower.   The payoff for her efforts was much in evidence today.

The gorgeous New England Asters added their flashes of brilliant color to the unmown edges of the runway.  Although a deep and radiant purple is the expected color of this wildflower's blooms, here and there we saw this aster sporting blooms of an equally deep and radiant rose.

As the wildflower season draws to a close, we nature lovers are grateful for other points of interest along our paths.  A case in point is this sprightly baby White Cedar sprouting up from a patch of Pink Earth Lichen.

Pink Earth Lichen always deserves a down-on-your-knees, nose-to-the-ground closer look to admire its adorable tiny pink fruiting bodies.

Another lichen growing nearby also deserved a closer look to marvel its minute telescoping trumpets.  I'm not sure of the scientific name of this Cladonia species, but I have heard it called Pagoda Lichen.  Update:  Thanks to Bob Duncan, I now do know the scientific name of this lichen:  Cladonia cervicornis var. verticillata.

I did recognize this fluffy gray stuff as Reindeer Lichen, and the perky green tuft is certainly a clubmoss, but one I don't know the name of.  If I do find out, I'll be back to add its ID.  Update:  Another big thanks goes to Bob Duncan, who ID'd this clubmoss as Diphasiastrum tristachyum.  I wonder how I'll be able to remember that?  One of its common names is Blue Ground-cedar, and it does have a bluer cast to its green than other clubmosses that are also called Ground-cedar.

Masses of Sand Jointweed displayed how happy they were to inhabit this sandy trail that led into the woods from the airport runway.

We were striding along this trail toward home when the brilliant orange color of this unknown plant halted us in our tracks.  None of us knew what it was at first, but we did have a Newcomb's Wildflower Guide and its clever key system with us, so it didn't take long to find out that this was Flowering Spurge (Euphorbia corollata), sometimes called Wild Baby's Breath.

A nearby plant with a few flowers remaining clinched the ID, as did the drop of milky white sap oozing from a broken-off stem.  This is not a particularly uncommon plant, but it's one that I had never seen before, so I can now add a new flower to my "lifer" list.

Poor butterfly!  This Viceroy's tattered wings indicate that its life may soon be drawing to an end along with summer's close.  But like the bright leaves of that Flowering Spurge, the butterfly added a spot of brilliant color to the landscape around the airport at North Creek.

Elusive Orchids Along the Red Oak Ridge

Summer's end.  All the kids are back in school, and the beach at Moreau Lake State Park was absent of even their footprints yesterday morning when Sue and I met at the park to go searching for Autumn Coralroot (Corallorhiza odontorhiza), one of the last of our native orchids to bloom.

We had found this diminutive orchid last fall along the Red Oak Ridge trail in the park, so that's where we headed today, soon to be joined by our friend Laurie.  With a flower so inconspicuous, it's good to have extra eyes along to look for it.  Also, Laurie's a geologist, and she always has interesting information about the rocks that line this beautiful woodland trail that heads up into the mountains overlooking Moreau Lake.

Because I have such poor eyesight, I can't believe that I was the one who saw it first.  Sure enough, it was right in the same spot we found it last year, but it sure can hide in plain sight.   There it is, right in the center of that red circle.  Plain as day, right?   Then,  after spying that one, we found a few more close by.

Since there's no botanical record of this orchid growing in Saratoga County, we had hoped to collect a specimen in full bloom to send to the state herbarium.  But we couldn't figure out if these were in bud or had already gone by, so we didn't collect any plants.  It was only later that we learned that this particular coralroot often bears no open blooms, ever.    This may be as much flower as we were ever going to see.

Now that we had a search image in our minds, we continued to look for the leafless reddish stems hung with pale green pods, walking up and down the streambed where we found our first plants.  If there were others growing here, we couldn't find them.

It was only after we had given up searching that we found several other specimens, in locations quite some distance apart, and in every case, just a single plant.  Since the population seemed so sparse, we decided not to collect even one, although I did mark each location with a GPS device.  I hope someday our state herbaria will accept photographs and signed affidavits as proof of a plant's existence in a county, rather than insisting on actual specimens.  Especially in the case of native orchids, all of which are protected by law.

Even if we had not found our sought-after plant, we would have had a marvelous time exploring the heaps of limestone boulders  that are a prominent feature along the Red Oak Ridge trail.  And even if we had not had our geologist friend along to identify these rocks, we could have guessed their mineral content from the abundance of such lime-loving plants as this Walking Fern meandering across the moss.

Another indicator of rich soil was this Rattlesnake Fern scattered about the forest floor.

We found evidence, too, that porcupines were also fond of these boulders, when we spied this opening in the rocks that was littered with quills and piles of feces distinctive of porcupines.

If you clicked on the link to our last fall's hike along this same trail, you would be struck by the wonderful abundance and variety of fungi we found.  This year, following one of the hottest and driest summers on record, we found hardly any fungi at all.   This marvelous mass of white-edged ruffles was an exception.  At first, I did not recognize this dark brown fungus as Turkey Tail (Trametes versicolor),  but after searching the internet, I was astounded to see the incredible color variations this beautiful shelf fungus can exhibit.

Here was another of the really scarce fungi we found, and it looks like this hungry slug was very happy to have found it, as well.  I must confess, this is the first time I have ever noticed slug poop.  Sue saw it first and pointed it out to me, or I wouldn't have seen it.  Dedicated naturalists as we are, we are often delighted to find stuff that most folks would have no interest in.

Most folks, however, would be happy enough to notice these pretty wildflowers, Nodding Bur Marigold (Bidens cernua),  which were blooming along the sandy south shore of the lake, where we sat to eat our picnic lunch.  We were fascinated to also find miniature specimens of this same species growing in other areas of the beach, and wondered what would cause such a diminishment in size.

Peering closely to admire the Bur Marigold's blooms, I discovered this beetle, whose black-spotted yellow coloring provided quite effective camouflage while it sat on the flower.   A google search for black-spotted yellow beetles immediately informed me that this is a Spotted Cucumber Beetle (Diabrotica undecimpunctata), considered quite a pest by gardeners and farmers.  Its appetite for flowers is certainly evident in the tattered petals of this Bur Marigold bloom.

Late Summer, Lovely Grass

The weather continues summer-like, but except for a few goldenrods and asters, most of the summer-blooming flowers are gone.   But that doesn't mean that the landscape is bereft of colorful beauty.  On a walk through the Gick Farm parcel of the Wilton Wildlife Preserve today,  I delighted in the many colors and textures of grasses that inhabit this extensive oak-pine savanna. 

This parcel of the Wilton Wildlife Preserve is the site of an ambitious grasslands-restoration project, with Fall Witchgrass (the fluffy pink one) and Little Bluestem (the darker reddish one) among the native grasses being reintroduced to this sandy tract that once was cultivated as farmland.

Sometimes the Little Bluestem looks just as pink as the Fall Witchgrass.

In other lights, and as the wind moves across it in waves, the same grass assumes a paler and more tawny hue.

When I chose this site for my walk today, I was hoping to find the variety of interesting galls that oaks are known to host,  but to my surprise, I didn't find a single gall of any kind on the oaks that lined the path.  What I did find, though, were oak leaves that were wrinkled and shriveled.  Are they infected with some kind of blight, or is this just the result of an exceptionally hot and dry summer?

There are still a few more flowers coming into bloom, although in the case of the tiny Sand Jointweed, you have to look very carefully or you might miss these spindly little blooms.

 No chance you will miss the gorgeous purple New England Aster, though.  Oh oh, that shiny black beetle better watch out, there's a predatory spider lurking among the ray flowers.

Although the Wilton Wildlife Preserved is famous as a habitat for the endangered Karner Blue Butterfly, I believe this one may be an Eastern Tailed Blue, because of the tiny spikes protruding from the hind wings.  It sure was beautifully blue, while it was on the wing.  But as soon as it landed and closed its wings, it became a very dull gray.

I believe this caterpillar is a Yellow Bear, the larval form of the Virginia Tiger Moth.  Although it looks soft and fuzzy, some of those hairs can be irritating if you pick this caterpillar up.

Before I went home, I made a detour to the Orra Phelps Nature Preserve, also in Wilton, to check on the status of the Fringed Gentians that are known to bloom there, and nowhere else that I know of in Saratoga County.  Wow!  Just look at them all!  Is there any flower more vividly blue than this?  When I came here about 10 days ago, I could find only one plant, still in tight bud, and was afraid their numbers would be sharply down this year.  I'm very glad to say I was misled.

September!

September:  when the days grow short, and the grass grows pink.  Now that I've reached my allotted span of "three score years and ten," the waning days of summer seem especially precious to me, and the beauty of the land I inhabit announces itself to me more clearly than ever.  Here's a field of "weeds" that caught my attention today, and I just had to stand and gaze at it for a long, long, time.

Exploring the Backwaters at Big Bay

I've been studying this map for years, hoping to find a way into all the backwaters and byways of the Hudson River where it makes this big bend just south of the city of Glens Falls.  

Earlier this week, my friend Ed Miller introduced me to the area just east of the I-87 bridge, an area called Big Boom for the cables that used to stretch across the river to capture logs being floated down from the Adirondacks.  We had a very pleasant paddle up a canal constructed to bypass the jams once created by the massive accumulation of logs.  

Then earlier this summer, my friend Sue showed me how to access the Hudson where the river takes a sharp turn to the east upstream from Haviland Cove Park, and we had lots of fun exploring the convoluted islands that swoop around that bend.

Today, I found my way into the part of the Hudson called Big Bay, pictured here at the center of this map, through a nature preserve called Hudson Pointe, accessible from County Road 28, which runs between Glens Falls and Corinth.  I  could see from the map what looked to be an interesting backwater that I could reach by carrying my canoe along a trail to the river.

The trail itself was pleasant enough, cool and shady and scented with pine.  From the map, it looked as if this trail would lead quite directly to the river, so I hoisted my Hornbeck onto my shoulder and set off into the woods.

Sure enough, I soon caught sight of the Hudson through the trees.  Unfortunately, though, the river was way, way down beneath steep bluffs, and there was no easy way to get down to the water.  But a passing hiker assured me that if I just continued on, the trail would eventually descend to the water's edge.
 

And so it did.  Maybe a half mile and one steep hill further on.  This is what carbon-fiber canoes are made for.  Twelve pounds of boat on my shoulder cost me hardly any more effort than simply hiking without a boat.

 The Hudson here is broad and beautiful, with mountains rising  behind the Queensbury water-treatment plant.  The Sherman Island Dam is just around the bend upstream.

A short paddle downstream brought me to the area I'd been hoping to explore, where the river runs back behind several islands and into a quiet marsh.

Winterberry shrubs on the shore of one island were bright with fat red berries.

The shallow waters held many kinds of interesting plants.  I could see the underwater structures of some kind of bladderwort swirling around the shiny curlicue stems of Wild Celery.

Although the yellow flowers were long gone, I could still recognize this emergent stalk with its trailing mass of hair-fine underwater  leaves as Water Marigold.  Listed as a threatened species in New York, this plant has found a happy niche along this stretch of the Hudson.

Here's another rare plant, Small Floating Bladderwort, that thrives in this stretch of the Hudson above and below the Feeder Dam at Glens Falls.  Almost every patch of Water Lily leaves had captured a specimen or two of this cheerful little flower, which floats along freely on little inflated pontoons.
 

A feature of the Hudson Pointe Nature Preserve is this wooden bridge, which allows hikers access to wooded wetlands, as well as providing a platform for observing the many species of waterfowl and other wildlife that inhabit this area.

I beached my canoe at this site to get out and stretch my legs, and I was pleased to find this bright pretty stalk of Cardinal Flower still blooming along the boardwalk.

The trail here led into a wetland woods far greener than the parched piney woods I first encountered when I entered the preserve.

Abundant along this trail were the rayless flowers of Beggar Ticks, whose tiny yellow disc flowers will later produce the hooked seeds that stick to every passing pant leg or scampering dog.

Well, I know of several species of Beggar Ticks, but I've never seen any with such puffy green centers as these.  I wonder if it's a new species for me, or just an aberrant form of one of the common ones.

The disc flowers were full of exuberantly curly yellow pistils, worth a closer look.

Update:  Carol Gracie, co-author of the comprehensive wildflower guide, Wildflowers in the Field and Forest,  has told me she is almost certain that this is Purple-stemmed (or Swamp) Beggar Ticks (Bidens connata), especially considering the wetlands location.

There were little islands scattered  about the open water,  this one providing a resting spot for a congregation of bright white gulls.

Ah, little children, enjoy your last days of summer freedom, splashing and playing in the river's clean cool waters.

How lucky for me, retired as I am, that my playtime can just go on and on, whatever the season.  And how especially lucky I am, to have such a beautiful river to play in, with so many fascinating shores to explore.