In Time to Find the Trilliums!

I was so afraid my slow-to-heal knee would keep me off Bog Meadow Brook Nature Trail this spring.  Ever since finding the beautiful Nodding Trilliums (Trillium cernuum) along this trail at least 16 years ago, I've returned each year in time to admire them anew.  Happy for me, my knee pain from recent surgery has subsided sufficiently that I could walk at least part of this delightful and level trail quite easily, while these lovely flowers were still in bloom. And to add to my great pleasure, our dear friend Ruth Brooks had returned north from her winter Florida home, just in time to join me and our mutual friend Sue Pierce on our trillium hunt.

Of course, this  trail offered many delights other than Nodding Trilliums. One of the first to halt our footsteps was this Painted Turtle right alongside the trail. We helped it cross the trail in the same direction it appeared to be heading.  With wetlands on either side, it could have been either coming or going, and we wanted it to get where it wanted to go before some other trail-walker might think it would make a nice pet.

I was delighted to find many dozens of new shoots of Canada Lily (Lilium canadense) coming up, and only one single Scarlet Lily Beetle among the entire widely separated bunches. Not the dozens of ravaging beetles I once found each visit in recent years. A few years ago, hordes of this invasive beetle's larvae devoured nearly every single one of these lilies that once abundantly thrived at this location.  Perhaps the larvae-devouring wasp introduced to our region few years ago has discovered this site at last! 

Before we reached the section of trail where we expected we'd find Nodding Trilliums, we did enjoy several other native wildflowers that also grow here;

Grove Sandwort's tiny flowers (Moehringia lateriflora) spangled the trailside grasses like stars in the sky.

Many plants of Wild Geranium (Geranium maculatum) line this trail, and a few had already opened their large and lovely pinky-purple blooms.

We were surprised to find a single plant of Golden Ragwort (Packera aurea) blazing its bright-yellow blooms along this open and relatively dry part of the trail. Further along, thousands would be thriving in a wooded swampy area we would not get to today.

Along the half-mile of the trail we walked today, only a single plant of Red Baneberry (Actaea rubra) did we see, distinguished from its White Baneberry relative by its spherical (rather than oblong) flower cluster and the slender pedicels of each floret. This baneberry also blooms a bit earlier than the white-berried one.

Starting about 20 miles north of Saratoga, populations of Rose Twisted Stalk  (Streptopus lanceolatus) grow much more abundantly, but the two widely separated plants of it I find along Bog Meadow trail are the only ones I have found in Saratoga Counnty, at least, so far.  What a treat to see it, with its tiny pink bells dangling down!  Of course, you have to stoop low to see those charming little blooms, hiding beneath its leaves.

Ah, but we also had to stoop low to see the charming white blooms of Nodding Trillium dangling beneath its leaves.  There seemed to be fewer of these native wildflowers this year, but perhaps they were simply better hidden this year by the huge leaves of Skunk Cabbage that also shares its habitat beneath trailside shrubs.  Those Skunk Cabbage leaves were much more advanced on this year's date than in former years.

My recent knee surgery would not allow me to kneel, so I had to tip the plant over a bit to better make out the floral parts of the Nodding Trillium flower. Note the pure-white petals, the white ovary, and the white filaments that elevate the reddish anthers from the base of the ovary: distinguishing features of this species of trillium, along with its sharply recurving petals.

In previous years, I have found varying numbers of anomalous Nodding Trilliums, which appeared to be possible hybrids of the species T. cernuum with the related Red Trillium species (T. erectum), which also grows close by along this trail.  The bloom time of the two species also overlaps slightly, so cross-pollination is a definite possiblility.  I wondered if I would find any of these possible hybrids today.  And well, I think I did!  Just one, but its flower's tell-tale dark-rose color could be detected, even when half-hidden beneath its leaves:

Here's a better look at this rose-colored trillium bloom:

The petals of this anomalous trillium are closer in color to the scarlet of the petals of T. erectum.  But the white ovary would signal that this was T. cernuum, since T. erectum has a red ovary. Also,  the dark anthers are held erect on slender filaments from the ovary's base.  The lighter anthers of T. erectum are virtually sessile to its ovary's base.  Except for the color, then, this flower seems close to the straight species of T. cernuum.  Would color be enough to think it might be a hybrid? I am curious what expert botanists might think. Whatever it is, it is certainly a beautiful anomaly!

A Misty Morning Ramble Around Lake Moreau's Back Bay

I suppose some folks might have thought it wasn't the nicest day for a walk.  It was cool and it rained a bit now and then.  But Moreau Lake is lovely, whatever the weather, and the wind was calm so the still water of the lake's back bay offered a nearly perfect reflection of the mountains that rise to the west. And the mist that shrouded the mountain tops only added to the quiet beauty of the scene.

Happily, a number of my friends in our Thursday Naturalists group were not dissuaded by the rain-dampened day, and we set off to circle the lake's back bay, crossing the fishing bridge to follow the trail that divides the bay from the main lake and continuing around the bay in a counter-clockwise direction.

Of course, as we walked we often paused, surrounded by the bright spring-green of the forest's new leaves. I believe that some of our friends were here admiring the dangling flowers of a trailside Striped Maple tree.

The misty light of this gray day almost seemed to amplify the colors of wildflowers along the trail.  The dangling scarlet blooms of this Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis) glowed almost neon-bright.

So did the raindrop-spangled blooms of the Fringed Polygala (Polygaloides paucifolia) that carpeted wide areas of the woods.

Highbush Blueberry shrubs (Vaccinium corymbosum) were hung with clusters of small white bells.

We were delighted to find an abundant patch of Perfoliate Bellworts (Uvularia perfoliata) dangling pale-yellow blooms on slender stems that appeared to pierce their leaves.

Starflower!  What a perfectly descriptive name for this lovely native wildflower (Lysimachia borealis).

I hope I can remember to return to taste the fruit of the many Wild Strawberry plants (Fragaria virginiana) that thrived along the path. Usually, though, the birds and other woodland creatures get there before I do!

The vivid purple of Ovate-leaved Violets (Viola fimbriatula) made them easy to spot on wooded trailside banks. Another vernacular name for this is Northern Downy Violet, suggested by the downy hairs that cover leaves and stems of this native wild violet.

Wild Sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis) bears its orbs of tiny whitish flowers on separate stalks from the stalk of its over-towering leaves. 

We were pleased to find many trees bearing flowers today, and low enough that we could easily enjoy their beauty. The flowers of this young Sassafras tree (Sassafras albidum) were not quite open, but the pale yellow of their blooms was lovely.

The flowers of Striped Maple (Acer pensylvanicum) dangle down in long clusters of small greenish florets, reminding me of the dangling ornaments in a Japanese geisha's elaborate hairdo.

The pale color and rounded lobes of these small leaves cause me to think they are those of Swamp White Oak (Quercus bicolor), from a tree that is mature enough to bear strings of flowers. This twig was lying on the path, perhaps severed by a Red Squirrel clearing its highways through the treetops.

These dangling clusters of rosy-colored Red Maple seeds (Acer rubrum) were just as lovely as any flowers.

These baby Red Oak leaves (Quercus rubra) were deeply scarlet and spangled with tiny rain drops. Many young leaves of both woody and herbaceous plants are colored red by the presence of a chemical pigment called anthocyanin.  This pigment serves to prevent the tender young leaves from being damaged by strong sunlight.

These equally rain-spangled baby leaves of a White Oak (Quercus alba) are also tinged with red, for the same reason the Red Oak leaves were.

More rain-spangled leaves, but these all green, not tinged with red, and held as erect as candle flames. This multi-leaved cluster belonged to a young Sassafras tree (Sassafras albidum), which I ascertained by nibbling a twig and tasting its sweet flavor, somewhat resembling that of Juicy Fruit gum.

I wonder if this Twelve-spotted Ladybug (Coleomegilla maculata) was also enjoying the Juicy Fruit flavor of the Sassafras leaf.  But then I read that these native ladybugs are beneficial insects, feeding primarily on aphids and other plant pests, not on the leaves. I did not see any aphids on these Sassafras leaves, only several of the ladybugs hiding within the leaf cluster.  Maybe they were just taking shelter from the rain. 

Here was a tiny cluster of slightly curving slender green leaves I was hoping to find today. They belong to the Small-flowered Dwarf Bulrush (Cyperus subsquarrosus), an Endangered species that actually grows by the thousands on the sandy and pebbly shore of Moreau Lake.  I sometimes wonder if this plant might not be as rare as depicted, simply overlooked, since the entire leaf cluster could be covered by a half dollar. The leaves shrivel and disappear in late fall, so I was delighted to find them emerging again in spring.

I was surprised we did not find much in the way of fungi today, considering how much rain we have had this week.  But the ones we DID find were certainly fascinating.  This glossy heap of Black Witches' Butter (Exidia nigricans) looked especially photogenic while underlaid by the pale-green patch of a foliose lichen.

These tiny baby-blue growths on our path caused us to halt our striding, since none of us had ever seen this before, and a few of us are not exactly neophytes in fungus knowledge. 

This fungus was so small it was hard for my camera to get a clear photo of it.  This photo below was the best it could do. Joining the tiny blue puffs were some tan ones as well.

My friend Sue got better photos she could submit to iNaturalist, where contributors identified it as a stage of a fungus called Chromelosporiopsis coerulescens.  I could not find much further information about it, other than that "young spore-producing structures (synnemata) are white or blue, and will become rosy pink, and finally mature to ocher."  Quite I find!  I guess.

Here my friends are peering at a large beaver lodge, and I am aware that we are only halfway around the back bay and my knee pain is suggesting maybe I should go back to my car.  But halfway back is just as far as halfway forward.  So onward I persisted. While limping.

I am glad I persisted, in order to join my friends to picnic later at a table on Lake Moreau's beach.  That's where we met one of Sue's friends she calls "bug guy," and for a good reason. This person (his real name is Alex) is a whiz at finding cool bugs, including this Eyed Click Beetle (Alaus oculatus), which he shared with us while we sat at our picnic table -- and demonstrated how it got the name "Click" Beetle.

A perfectly harmless (to humans) insect, it makes a clicking sound when it flips.  A Click Beetle possesses a spine-like structure as well as a notch under its thorax. When the spine is released from the notch, it snaps and propels itself into the air, with a clicking sound we could definitely hear as Alex demonstrated this action several times. This strategy is probably its way to either escape from or deter any predators.  And it also served as a source of wonder and delight as we ended our adventure on this marvelously pleasant day. (Despite the occasional rain.)

A Riverside Walk on an Aching Knee

 No, I'm not dead.  Although there were times while recovering from knee replacement surgery that I envied a comparable relief from pain. This has been harder than I thought it would be.  And even now, three months since the surgery, if I'm on my feet for much more than an hour, I regret the dues I will pay in pain. But today I felt pretty good. Time to return to providing new posts to this blog.  And I knew of a place that would yield much botanical treasure, and all of it just a few yards from where I could park my car: the forested banks where Spier Falls Road wends close to the Hudson River.  So off I went to see what might be in bloom.

As I passed the hydro-electric dam that lends its name to this road, I was impressed by how it was roaring.  Not so surprising, after several days of rain.  And then I discovered, upstream from the dam, the water levels were being lowered, most likely to work on the dam, which had suffered considerable damage from a fire last year.  So all that upstream water was being drained through the dam, to add to that from the rainfall.

I drove on to reach the Spring Trailhead, where I could park in a lot nearly empty today, because of today's occasional rain.  When I stepped onto the trail, I was surprised to find this Large-flowered Bellwort (Uvularia grandiflora) blooming where I had never noticed it in years before.

I was delighted to find Foamflower (Tiarella stolonifera) in full bloom, lucky to see it before it faded.  It was blooming earlier than usual this year, and its florets would soon go to seed.  I loved how the fern frond appeared to be bowing before the Foamflower's beauty. 

As I walked a short distance up the trail, I hoped I would find the carpets of Bluets (Houstonia caerulea) that in other years carpeted a grassy hillside. Ah yes, I found them blooming abundantly once more, but higher up on that hillside than I felt my knee would happily carry me. So I used my camera's zoom function, yielding a photo not as clear as I wanted, but lovely enough.

These boughs of Red-berried Elder (Sambucus racemosa) were leaning gracefully over a tumbling creek. The creek indeed added to the beauty of this scene, but it also probably served as a nursery for the clouds of Black Flies that surrounded my head, gagging me each time I took a deep breath. I believe the flies must have been all males, since I never got bitten. (Only the females need our blood to provide the proteins to produce their eggs.) Such rushing water as filled this creek is exactly what the eggs of this super pest need to develop.

Hobblebush shrubs (Viburnum lantanoides) with their big white flower clusters were easy to spot throughout the woods that lined the banks along the road. The bigger white florets are actually sterile, serving only to draw pollinators' attention to the tiny fertile florets the big ones encircle.

Before I went back to my car, I crossed the road and followed a path leading down to the river.  My knee objected a bit about descending this trail, but my pains were promptly rewarded by the sight of this lovely cluster of Painted Trillium (Trillium undulatum).

Back in my car and driving downstream, I traveled past this white-water waterfall plunging down the mountain that rises abruptly from the side of Spier Falls Road. It's usually dry by this late in the spring, but as I mentioned before, we've had a few rainy days.

Just past the waterfall, I passed the quarry where rocks were blasted out of the mountain to build the dam across the road.  It was in this quarry I once found a small cherry tree that puzzled me greatly.  I eventually learned (thanks to help from some botanists) that this was a Nanking Cherry (Prunus tomentosa), not a native species but quite a lovely one. Its distinguishing features include the sessile flowers and downy twigs and leaves.  I did see from afar a few specimens of this pretty tree today, but all would have been too difficult for me to approach on my weakened knee, but I had photos of its flowers in my files.  This is one of them.

I did get out of my car to approach more closely the rocky cliffs that lined the road, with spring-watered, moss-covered ledges that serve as garden beds for masses of Early Saxifrage (Micranthes virginiensis).

A roadside rock garden of amazing beauty!

My last stop today was the Sherman Island Boat Launch Site, with a large parking area that allowed me a clear view of the Hudson River, with West Mountain rising beyond the bend of the river far downstream.

I recalled some large-sized Red Trillium (Trillium erectum) that grew in the woods just beyond the parking lot, and sure enough I found them today. The plants were quite impressive, even though the red flowers were definitely starting to fade.

I found no other blooming wildflowers at this site today, but these lovely Starflower leaves (Lysimachia borealis) with their tiny buds on thread-fine stalks held the promise that one of our prettiest spring wildflowers would soon be blooming here.

These equally attractive leaves of Indian Cucumber Root (Medeola virginiana) also held the buds of the flowers still to come. Before they produce their distinctive flowers, the leaves of these last two plants appear quite similar at first glance and are sometimes confused. But knowledgeable friends have taught me how to easily distinguish them. The veins of the Starflower leaves are pinnate (feather-like) with small veins protruding from a central mid-vein; the leaf-veins of the Indian Cucumber Root are parallel to the mid-vein.  Once you see this, the two plants are easy to identify, even when not yet in bloom.

Ah, but both will soon be in bloom.  Here's hoping my knee will be closer to full recovery by the time I come back to observe them.  I'm so glad there were so many other rewards today, and all of them accessed so easily. (Except for the Black Flies.)