Spots of Interest on a Gray Day

It's absolutely gorgeous outdoors today, clear blue sky, little wind, warmish temps, but I have so many tasks to do, I don't have time to get out to enjoy it.  And the last time I did get out there, a visit to Moreau Lake late last week, everything was GRAY: lake, sky, mountains, ice. Kinda cold and windy, too. Could I find ANYthing out here to delight me?

Well, I did find these floating disks of slushy ice in a patch of open water kind of fascinating. What could have caused these perfectly circular shapes?  At least their existence gave me a puzzle to ponder.

And I did find a few spots of color as I wandered the woods near the shore.  I loved how the warm, cinnamon-brown hues of this Stereum fungus contrasted with the icy crystals that adorned it.

And the myriad tiny cones among the braided green twigs of Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana) offered not only some attractive color but also a bit of a surprise:  Where did this solitary tree come from, the only one of its kind on a long stretch of shore?

Here, too, was another puzzle to ponder: The dark-blue fruits of Maple-leaved Viburnum (Viburnum acerifolium) are so attractive, dangling as they do on such vivid hot-pink pedicels, how come they haven't been devoured already by wildlife? I often find them quite late in winter, shriveled and ignored, still hanging on, uneaten. I wonder why.

It's easy to ID young Sassafras trees, even in winter, after their distinctive mitten-shaped leaves have fallen.  Just look around for twigs and buds of such a bright spring-green color the small trees stand out from all the other saplings in the understory.

Striped Maples have especially elegant and colorful twigs and buds this time of year. I did find it cheering to find these understory trees with their colorful buds that hold the promise of spring,  even though it's not yet officially winter.

And here was a plant that always delights me, ever since I discovered this extremely rare Whorled Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum verticillatum var. verticillatum) on the sandy shore of Moreau Lake back in 2013. At that time, the population of this Endangered species thrived by the hundreds here, but years-long high water levels later caused the population to diminish.  Last summer, I counted fewer than 20 specimens, trying to make a come-back along the now-dry shore.  Thankfully, the plants looked very healthy, even now, with their still-green leaves in December, the flowerheads having spilled the seeds that I'm hoping will re-build the original abundant population.

This last find, of the dry, empty seedpods of Blue Curls (Trichostema dichotomum) was hardly colorful, but I think the husks make up in cuteness for what they lack in color. As thin and translucent as tissue paper, the tiny three-toothed, scoop-shaped cups once held two shiny black seeds nestled within like two babies in one bunting. And of course, their presence on Moreau Lake's sandy shore holds the promise that we will find these beautifully blue wildflowers when we walk here again in late summer.

Walking a Riverside Road

Sometimes I feel the need for a nice brisk swing-my-legs walk, instead of the meandering, inch-along, up-and-down way I usually move through the woods, and Spier Falls Road offers just the place to do that. Right at the northern boundary of Saratoga County, this gently curving road closely follows the Hudson River as the road rolls past the eponymous Spier Falls Dam,  the steep forested slopes and jagged cliffs of the Palmertown Mountain Range rising abruptly from the roadside.

Spring-watered boulders line the road, their jagged rocks offering a foothold for a marvelous variety of evergreen plants, as well as tiered shelves from which dangle spectacular icicles when the weather turns cold.

As clouds today moved intermittently across a low December sun, the sunlight cast a golden glow across the glittering ice.

With daytime temperatures still above freezing most days, the tiny rills that course down the mountains splash and dance from rock to rock.  Fantastic fairy castles of ice will build up around these rills as the winter proceeds.

I love how the sharp edges and rough surfaces of the roadside rocks are softened by cushions of beautiful mosses of many different kinds, all of them green all winter.

Even though I don't know the names of most of these mosses, I marvel at the lovely shapes and colors that decorate the constantly watered rock. This one had long ropy stems with short sharply pointed leaves. It occurred to me that it might be Fountain Moss (Philonotus fontana), especially since it occupied the wettest areas of the boulders. Without that species' distinctive orb-shaped spore capsules, I couldn't be sure.

This moss had spiky leaves, and it spilled in thick clumps over the jagged edges of the wet rocks.

Finally, a moss I believe I know the name of, recognizing the spidery, starburst leaves of Apple Moss (Bartramia pomiformis), even though this particular clump was lacking its distinctive tiny apple-shaped spore capsules.

And this spiky erect moss that resembles a miniature pine forest is probably one of the Haircaps (Polytrichum sp.).  I loved how its lush green carpet was backed by a sheer wall of lichen-spotted rock.

A nice mix of several different mosses cushioned a ledge that held a long row of the basal leaves of Early Saxifrage (Micranthes virginiensis).  This spring wildflower's leaves will stay this fresh-looking all winter, and when May arrives, these rocky ledges will explode with masses of snowy-white blooms, a veritable rock garden of small star-shaped flowers.

I love how the basal leaves of Early Saxifrage look as if they'd been cut out with pinking shears.

When I drew abreast of the Spier Falls Dam, I pushed my way through roadside thickets to enter an open area of jumbled sharp-edge rocks and sheer cliffs that were draped with icicles.  This is a remnant of one of the places the mountainside was quarried for rock to build the dam, back at the close of the 19th Century.  At its completion in 1903, the Spier Falls Dam was one of the largest hydroelectric dams in America, 1800 feet long and more than 100 feet high, requiring an enormous amount of rock to build.

I have read that a number of workers died while working to construct this dam, and as I walked around this abandoned quarry I thought of those men, most of them immigrants from Europe, and of how so little effort was made at the time to ensure their safety. May they rest in peace. We owe them our gratitude still,  for the 56 megawatts of power this dam continues to generate for the electrical needs of the New York Capital Region

As I carefully picked my way among the jagged rocks still lying about the floor of the quarry, I could hear the thunder of water plunging over the dam, the only sound to disturb the quiet of this haunted place today.

A number of human-made artifacts remain at this site, including several concrete and iron structures that I suspect served as footings for the huge derricks from which cables were strung to carry the quarried rock out to the construction site on the river.  This photo shows just a glimpse of the still-operating dam where it stretches across the Hudson.

I have never figured out for what purpose this small stone structure was erected. When I first discovered it several years ago, I thought it might be an oven or part of a forge.  But I have never found where a fire might have been built within it.  Except for the square opening (visible in this photo) that extends all the way to where the structure meets the quarry wall, the structure is solid rock.   So it remains a mystery, one that adds yet another touch of consequence to this historic site. (And I did once find some old bones and a deer skull way back in that opening, possibly dragged in there by a Fisher or other smallish animal.)

UPDATE: I have since learned that this structure is most likely a bread oven, typical of community ovens found in many Italian neighborhoods, whether in Europe or in immigrant communities here.  The fire is actually set within the hollow chamber and kept burning until the surrounding rocks are hot enough to maintain a bread-baking temperature long enough to bake several loaves of bread. The ashes and embers are then raked out, the bread loaves placed inside the chamber, and a fireproof door is installed across the opening. Since many of the stoneworkers who constructed this dam were Italian immigrants, this seems the most likely reason for a structure like this. Such a fascinating remnant!

I lingered so long at this quarry site, it began to grow dark, and since I had about a mile to walk to reach my car, I hurried away.  Before long, it stated to snow, filling the darkening air with big soft clusters of flakes. This seemed to be just the right touch of beauty to end my walk today.

Here and There, This and That

Wow! Such a pretty snowfall overnight! The world transformed to a fairyland!  But sadly, that enchantment lasted for just an hour or so before the rain began to wash all the snow from the trees and turn it all to slush underfoot.  But that's the way it goes, this time of year, the weeks between autumn's glorious colors and genuine winter's sparkling snow and glittering ice. The recent days have been so dank and gray, I've had to really push myself to get outdoors, and I probably would have yielded more to the call of the comfy recliner and cat on my lap if my nature buddy Sue Pierce had not urged me to join her out on some local trails.

The Campground Woods at Moreau Lake State Park

Way back before Thanksgiving, Sue lured me out with this message: "Hey, I found a big patch of what looks to be Green Rock Cress near the campgrounds at Moreau Lake State Park! Come check it out!" Which I did.  And she was right! Granted, most folks would never look twice at this patch of weedy-looking stuff growing by the roadside, but Sue and I have seen it in other parts of the park, in bloom and in leaf as well as after it goes to seed with distinctive long arching slender pods. And we know that this Mustard Family plant is rated as a Threatened species in New York State. So yes, this patch of Green Rock Cress (Borodinia missouriensis) was indeed worth pulling my longjohns on to see.

And it turned out to be a good thing I was dressed for the cold, since it shortly started snowing.  A real squall it was, too, pelting us with rattling pellets of icy stuff falling too fast for my camera to capture in the air (until I used my flash).

But the snow stopped as fast as it came, so we wandered about the woods a bit, seeing what we could see. One of the most amusing things we saw was a patch of Bird's Nest Fungus covering the woodchips under a swing-set in a children's playground. This fungus is always a fun find, and even more so when we find the "eggs" (the fungus's spore packets) flung by rain from their nests and hanging by sticky threads on the swing-set's upright supports. This allows the wind to more easily waft the spores when expelled from the packets.

Here was a big handsome fungus decorating a fallen log, and it could have been any number of similar fungi with alternating stripes of tan and brown.

 

But a glance at the fertile surface revealed the intricate maze of ridges that convinced us that this was most likely a Maze Polypore (Daedaleopsis confragosa).

Another fungus, this one with caps so small they almost disappeared beneath a dusting of snow. Again, the brown color and zonal stripes resembled so many different species, further investigation was required to determine which one this was.

A simple flip of the cluster immediately confirmed our suspicion that this must be the Crimped Gill Fungus (Plicaturopsis crispa), thanks to its very distinctive squiggly gills.

I still have not ascertained the name of this linear patch of a tiny toothed fungus dangling down like miniature icicles from cracks in the bark of a fallen tree limb. You can judge how small it was in comparison to the toe of my shoe. Neither Sue nor I had ever encountered it before.

UPDATE:  Thanks to a helpful commenter named Steve, I have good reason to believe that this small tooth-like fungus is likely to be Radulodon coplandii, also known as The Asian Beauty because it originated in Asia and has been found in northeastern North America only in recent years. Here's a link to the website "Fungus Fact Friday," where I learned many interesting facts about this (so-far) unusual fungus.

We certainly had no difficulty identifying this gorgeously colorful fungus as Turkey Tail (Trametes versicolor), a shelf fungus that comes (as its specific name suggests) in various colors, all of them beautiful. 

With most of our forest finds now displaying just various shades of brown, it's always a treat to encounter a fungus as colorful as Turkey Tail.  And shrubs of Panicled Dogwood (Cornus racemosa) also are doing their bit to liven up the fall color scheme, with berry pedicels a vibrant scarlet, even after the birds have devoured the porcelain-white berries.

And here was a final colorful surprise to delight us on this blustery cold day.  As the clouds that had pelted us with snow moved off to the northeast, a now-bright sun shining from a clear blue sky blessed us with a beautiful "snow-bow."  I had never experienced such an effect before.  It sure made me glad I had answered Sue's summons to join her at Moreau Lake State Park today.

First Ice at Moreau Lake

A few days later, Sue again summoned me back to Moreau Lake State Park, this time with the news that new ice had formed on the lake's back bay. "Maybe we'll find some cool ice bubbles," she tempted me with, so of course I had to join her.  Ice bubbles are one of the joys that make winters here more marvelous than miserable. 

Sadly, though, the ice had formed before or during the most recent snowfall, so the texture was pebbly and almost opaque, instead of the glass-clear sheet that holds bubbles like stacks of silver coins and allows us to see all the way to the lake's sandy or stony bottom. But it still looked rather pretty, with ruddy oak leaves frozen in place and a frosty filigree forming at the water's edge.

Here was quite a surprising find: a still-blooming plant of our native Rough Cinquefoil (Potentilla norvegica) poking up through the newly formed shoreline ice, its small yellow flowers and green leaves apparently unaffected by the freezing cold.  I have always thought of this species as a sturdy plant, but I did marvel at how it had survived these wintry conditions. You can detect a flake or two of snow on the plant in this photo.

Since the shoreline offered little more to hold us there, we next followed this splashing brook up the mountainside, hoping to find some crystalline ice formations adorning the streamside boulders.

Again, we learned we must wait for colder days and nights for the most fantastic ice to form, but it's always lovely to watch the water flow over mossy rocks. And we did find a few icy embellishments.

As we wandered the streamside woods, we greeted a few of our native evergreen plants, lovely now  while dusted with snow and not yet buried beneath heaps of it.  Here, the beautifully patterned and curvaceous leaves of Downy Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera pubescens) displayed how bravely this native orchid endures whatever winter may bring its way.

The pale-striped, dark-green leaves of Striped Wintergreen (Chimaphila maculata) displayed the same imperviousness to winter's freezing cold, looking as fresh as when the plants bear flowers in early summer.

Some of our woodland ferns are also green all winter, and we were lucky to find three species of them clustered together, allowing us to compare the differences between the species.  The Christmas Fern (Polystichum acrostichoides), on the left, has the plainest leaflets of all, but displays a small "toe" at the base of each leaflet that lends each individual leaflet the look of a Christmas stocking. The middle frond shows the deeply-cut rounded leaflets that distinguish the Marginal Wood Fern (Dryopteris marginalis), while the already-cut leaflets of the Intermediate Wood Fern (Dryopteris intermedia) show themselves to be cut once again, lending a lacier look to this fern's fronds.

Heading home from the park on Spier Falls Road, which climbs through the Palmertown Mountain Range, I was struck by the long slender icicles cascading from the tree-topped boulders that line this steep and winding road. So I was not completely denied the icy beauty I'd hoped to find when I ventured out this day.

A Sun-warmed Walk at Lake Bonita

A sunny day, at last! And on the first day of December!  It was such a pleasure to feel a warm sun on my back as Sue and I strolled the south-facing shore of Lake Bonita, a beautiful small lake high up on Mount McGregor, now one of the most popular hiking destinations in Moreau Lake State Park.

Although the lake is now covered with ice, that ice was still much too thin to allow us to venture out to the tiny islands that dot this lake, islands that are covered with acid-tolerant shrubs and herbaceous plants more usually encountered in northern bogs. 

We enjoyed trying to identify the remnants of plants that grow close to shore, including these ruddy pods of Ditch Stonecrop (Penthorum sedoides) poking up through the ice.

Several rocky ledges jut out from the shore, providing welcoming spots to bask in today's warming sun. The sun-warmed rock contains sheltered niches where Pale Corydalis (Corydalis sempervirens) has nestled in, still holding onto its beautiful frosty-green leaves late into the year. I found only leaves this day, although on other years I have found a few of its yellow-tipped rosy-pink flowers blooming as late as early December.

Oh, what a marvelous year it is, for our native Winterberry shrubs (Ilex verticillata)!  I haven't seen them fruit so abundantly in several years, but they sure are making up for lost time this fall.  On my way home from Lake Bonita, I had to pull over along Corinth Mountain Road to simply gaze in wonder at the spectacular display in this little roadside cattail swamp. Believe me, I did not boost the saturation of this photo to intensify the redness of the fruit.  What a treat to liven the otherwise dreary landscape of this post-autumn, pre-winter, dull-colored time of year!