I Have a Garden

June 21, 2012 Hudson River Ice Meadows

And then for my afternoon walks
I have a garden,
larger than any artificial garden
that I have read of
and far more attractive to me,
- mile after mile of embowered walks,
such as no nobleman’s grounds can boast …
    HDT Journal, June 20, 1850

Another bonus of having this week off :  I can go rambling with the Thursday Naturalists this week, and not have to leave after just an hour or so.
And to make it even easier, the group happens to be travelling up to my neck of the woods, or in this case, neck of the river.

Jackie and I walk with them whenever we are able, since their collective plant knowledge is so vast (plus they are fun to be with.) So we are meeting them here today to spend some sunny hours in a botanical wonderland.

The garden we are walking in today is none other than the Ice Meadows, which is a botanically unique environment that runs along both banks of the Hudson River, just north of Warrensburg.

We begin on the west bank, on land owned by the Nature Conservancy.
As you head toward the river’s edge, it’s impossible to walk more than ten feet without seeing something interesting, botanically speaking.

Like Shining Ladies’ Tresses.

And Tuberculed Orchis.

If you look closely you can see the telltale bump on the lower petal.

Or Rose Pogonia, a delicate and stylish little orchid.
The Audrey Hepburn of the flower world.

Or Racemed Milkwort, one of several flowers that I can add to my “life list” on this day.

Here’s another one you don't see just anywhere:
Dwarf St. Johnswort, opening up her petals in a sleepy yawn.

You can see the relative size of these little wonders, and know why most serious botanizers carry a magnifying loupe.

Even common plants can appear different here -- smaller or stunted by the harsh effects of the winter ice which piles up in this section of the river.

Oh, ice !
I wish I had some now.
Sweat is trickling down my brow as I bend low to admire a tiny sundew, currently in bloom. It too seems adorned with beads of sweat, but these sticky beads are how this carnivorous plant catches its insect prey.

One might suppose that in the middle of our current heat wave, the TNs might have cancelled this trip, or stayed indoors heeding the Official Warnings for Delicate Persons. Not this bunch !
(Pouring rain does not deter them, either, as I found out the last time I walked with them at Moreau Lake.)

We cope with the heat, each in our own way.

Nevertheless, several hours in the sun, with temperatures near 90 degrees, is wilting.
At lunchtime, Ed wisely leads us to Snake Rock. There we are able to sit in the shade, feel the breeze coming down the valley, and admire the upriver view.
No lunch I could pack can beat the taste of ripe, sun-warmed blueberries.

After lunch, it’s time for more exploring, despite the heat. It’s so nice to have the afternoon free.
I join Jackie and Win as they drive over to the east side of this part of the river.
We find some of the same flowers, some of them rarities, on this side as well.
Such as Sticky Tofieldia.

Here the rocks, veined with marble, wriggle down into the river.

And butterflies, much smarter than us, catch a moment of shade.

Jackie leads us to a spot in the pines, and like a proud gardener,
shows us a flower she found in a visit here earlier this week: one-flowered pyrola.

Its nodding white flowers are stars strewn all over the forest floor.
No artificial garden can compare!

The Same Delight As Ever

June 20, 2012
Mud Pond, Moreau Lake State Park

In all my rambles I have seen no landscape
which can make me forget Fair Haven.
I sit still on its Cliff in a new spring day,
and look over the awakening woods and the river,
and hear the new birds sing,
with the same delight as ever.
It is as sweet a mystery to me as ever,
what this world is.

    HDT Journal, June 21, 1853

This is Solstice Day, which also happens to be
the third anniversary of the Water-Lily blog.
I’m on vacation this week, and it’s a joy to go a-walking
and be able to linger all I want.

Today being the Longest Day of the Year,
I headed for my own favorite place, Mud Pond.
Such a lowly name for such a beautiful place.

I did my usual circle ‘round the Pond.
(This usually takes me about two hours, since I stop to look at everything)
Today I took things really slow, and
Got my Saunter on !
So the circuit took about four hours, and I  even cut things short due to the sweltering heat of the day.

Along the way, I did have some errands.
I searched along the Powerline Easement for Wood Lilies - found but  a few. (more on that later)

The deerflies have been absolutely fierce in this dry sandy area.
I am pleased to report that Tred-Not Deerfly Patches TM
(a treasured gift from Jackie) really do work.

[It’s pretty gross to hear these little terrors buzzing their last on the back of your hat, but after suffering their bites the last time I was here -- it’s them or me!]

Then, on to a certain spot to check if the Rattlesnake Plantain was going to flower this year.

Oh boy, was it ! Many slender green spikes glowed in the morning sunlight.
It is a good year for Goodyera.

While I was on my knees photographing a pippsissewa flower, suddenly I heard footsteps, and looked up, startled -- to see a human (whew) –  but it was only Laurie! (double whew).She’s been walking this trail since … well, since before it was a trail.
There was time enough to chat and walk a little way together, in this place we both love.

That was the only other person I saw there today.

I avoided being out in the direct sun, and when it got really hot, even in the shade, a light breeze filtered through the leaves, and kept most bugs away. It was so hot that even the rocks were sweating.

My chores done, it was time to do what I came here for.
Several spots were perfect for “just sitting:” 

-- At the north end of the pond, where dragonflies fought

and damselflies quite literally, hooked up

-- Along the sandy bank above the beaver lodge, where the field of lilies extended all across the pond.

And on Checkerberry Hill at the south end of the pond, where I ate my lunch and took in the sights.

(be sure to right-click on this handsome fellow :)

As I sat there quietly near the water's edge,
I almost got run over by a family of geese.

They swam along the shore, coming  so close that I got nervous.
The usually-wary parents acted as if they didn’t see me, and who knew how they would take such a surprise?
Finally I did a slow wave, and after a head-wagging double-take, they veered offshore with threatening grunts.

You only need sit still long enough
in some attractive spot in the woods
that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves
to you by turns.

--Walden

More Splendid Moonlight Than Usual

May 6, 2012
Moreau Lake State Park, NY

If there is a more splendid moonlight than usual
only the belated traveler observes it …

   HDT’s Journal, May 18, 1851  [continues below]

Every month of the year, Moreau Lake State Park hosts a Full Moon Walk.
In winter months, sometimes that walk leads us
right down the middle of the frozen lake.
In summer, it’s a way to see a familiar trail in a new light.

For this month’s moon, we went on a Full Moon Paddle.
Headlines were all blatting about the upcoming “SuperMoon,” which was supposed to be “at least 14 percent brighter.”  While  I do appreciate the unique heavenly positioning of this month’s moon, the hype about it was a bit irritating.  Then again, such hype might get more folks to step away from the TV, go outside and look up !

For many full moons last year, I was not able to attend the walks, unless they were on a weekend evening. So it was with great pleasure that I pulled my little kayak out of the storage bin, slid her into the car, and joined the other folks at the boat launch on the Lake.

There were, all told, twelve boats in our flotilla.

The clouds of late afternoon were swept away as the weather changed for the better.

 

While Moreau Lake is not exactly wilderness -- it is visited daily by swimmers, campers and boaters -- by the time the sun began to set,
we had the water mostly to ourselves.  

The night-songs of unseen amphibians filled the air, and we drifted past the scent of a distant campfire.

The lake takes on a wilder aspect as the mountain grows dark
and looms above the water. Now it’s a mountain of owls, instead of a mountain of songbirds.  American Toads begin to purr from reedy coves.

The Muskrats grow bolder as the light dims – here’s one heading straight for John !

Alas, as you can see by the above, over the winter I had forgotten about the dreaded Moving Boat Effect on photos.

Combine that with ever-fading light, and you get a more, um ... Impressionist style than usual.

(That smaller light on the left is Jackie's camera-screen. She's trying to capture moonlight from a moving boat, too.)
But you get the idea.
The scenery was beautiful, whether captured by a camera or not.
We were near the end of our evening paddle. At last the Moon rose slowly and steadily, up and over the trees at Head Cove. We all rafted-up and sat quietly, floating in the moonlight.

It was a grand night to be out, and equally grand to spend these hours with others who appreciate such things.  Fellow-saunterers on the water.

On that moonlit night so long ago, Henry Thoreau walked alone.

… I am wont to think that all men are aware
of this miracle –
that they too are silently worshipping this manifestation of divinity elsewhere –
but when I go into the house
I am undeceived,
they are absorbed in checquers or chess or novel,
though they may have been advertised of the brightness
through the shutters.

Grazin’ in the Grass

April 24 2012

Moreau Lake State Park

Within a few days I pricked my fingers smartly
against the sharp, stiff points of some sedge coming up.
At Heywood's meadow, by the railroad,
this sedge, rising green and dense
with yellow tips above the withered clumps,
is very striking,
suggesting heat,
even a blaze, there.

   HDT's Journal, April 21, 1859

I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know the first thing about the Grasses --despite the helpfulness of Jackie’s repeated singing of
“Sedges have edges…” at the slightest provocation.
 I am definitely a Lazy Botanist.

So I was happy to meet and walk today with a new friend - Jeremy, who is something of a Grass Scholar.

He is involved with Grassland restoration in the Midwest, and has approval to do some research in the Park.
He asked the folks at the Park: was there anyone who might be interested in showing him around ?
You bet !

Jackie and I were glad to take him around to certain places where we had seen plants that might be of interest to Jeremy.

First stop, the powerline easement. Despite disturbances and other manmade meddling, easements can be amazing collections of plants not found elsewhere.

Jackie and Jeremy soon started chattering in Latin plant-names,
while I followed along and said things like,
“Oh look, here’s something purple!”
upon which they would hunker down to examine it.

More Latin incantations then ensued.

Sorry the wood betony photo didn’t turn out,
but the gods chose that moment to send a dark blustery cloud our way,
and pelt us with sleet.

“What a beautiful day!” someone said, and we all busted out laughing.

There were tiny polygalas,

and ovate violets tucked away in the profusion of mosses.

It’s certainly an odd year, with early spring flowers blooming next to things we usually don’t see until May, like these blueberries.

We then headed to Mud Pond, and showed Jeremy more of our local botanic delights.

His main interest is grasses, but he seemed to equally enjoy the beaver lodge, the tamaracks returning to life,
and the yellow violets (which we found in both downy and smooth forms.)

Jeremy found an old elm tree, and showed me some clues to identifying them.

And we wandered happily at the edge of the Senecio Plain,
where very soon, the masses of Golden Ragwort will light up even a cloudy day with glowing yellow flowers.

Alas, I had to leave for work at that point in our walk,
but there will be other times hopefully, and other places to go a-botanizing with our new acquaintance this summer.