A Walk Toward Camp Santanoni

Sunday morning I was being a slug - lying in bed, reading (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - about the 12th or 15th time). It was about 12:30 when a friend called to ask if Toby and I wanted to go for a walk over at Santanoni. SURE! I really should be getting up anyway.

So, we drove over and met Judy and Spike. This time I took my camera. Even though there isn't anything blooming, you just never know what photographic opportunity might present itself.


Like, for instance, these lovely percherons, just in from hauling some hunters and their gear back to the parking lots from the interior portion of the Santanoni Preserve.


Mostly Judy and I chatted while Spike and Toby sniffed and piddled. We walked this way a couple weeks ago, after several days of rain. The streams were rushing and crystal clear then, and I was sorry not to have brought the camera along. Today they weren't as robust, but the bubbling falls were still pleasant to listen to.


And Toby found the water good to drink.

The highlight of the walk was the large patch of milkweed we encountered. Most of the pods were completely fluffed out. Who could resist?





We left the field well-seeded for nest year.


And I know you are dying to see Spike, so here he is: airborne!

And ears all flying. He's a Maltese and just cute as a button.

We did over four and a half miles - took us about two and a half hours, because we were chatting and the dogs were sniffing and piddling - no one was in a hurry. Met the same hunters as we left that we met when we arrived. They had gone out to Long Lake in hopes of catching a float plane ride, but the pilot was not around, so they were heading back in as we were leaving.

We all got some fresh air and exercise, and we liberated hundreds of milkweed seeds. All in all, it was a very good day.

Slugs, Wood Sorrel and White Birch Leaves

Yesterday evening, for a change of pace, Toby and I took our evening stroll over at the Camp Santanoni Preserve, detouring from the traditional route in to the Farm and Camp by taking the connector trail over to the VIC property. It had been raining off and on throughout the day, and temperatures had become quite pleasant...although humidity was high. As a result, the mosquitoes were out in great numbers.


Still, it was a pleasant walk in the early evening and Toby got to sniff new stuff, which is always a joy (to him).


Learned something new, but not too surprising: slugs are repelled by dog urine. As all dog folks know, new routes mean a lot of territorial marking on the part of the pooch, and Toby was going full bore, marking every other tree, shrub, log, tall plant, rock, etc. When he went to sign in on one particular log, I noticed a rather large slug stretched out along the side (looking rather leech-like, actually). As soon as the golden stream splashed upon its slimy back, the slug recoiled, releasing its hold on the log and plopping to the ground in a tight wad. When we walked passed the log again later on (as we were leaving the trail), the slug was still there, still bunched up. I'm pretty sure it was still alive, though. Could it be the salt in the urine that the slug objected to? Or might it be the whole chemical cocktail that makes up urine? Hm.


Two other discoveries yesterday evening: wood sorrel blooming, and white leaves on an American Beech (Fagus grandifolia) seedling (see photo below). One leaf was half green and half white, the other totally white. I brought them in to work to photograph, but the color has faded to tan - like the tan of dead beech leaves in winter. Still, one gets the idea. Is this color variation caused by a virus, as it is in tulips and in other plants with variegated leaves? I can see that someone could possibly make a fortune breeding beech trees with white (or variegated) leaves for the landscaping/horticultural market.




Other blooming observations: lots of one-flowered cancerroot (Orobanche uniflora) is "blooming" in my yard (will try and get photos tonight and blog it tomorrow), and viper's bugloss (Echium vulgare) opened up overnight (I suspect the rain).