Day Six - Adirondack Musuem, Bloomingdale Bog (again)

Monday morning we were expecting rain.  The rain never materialized, but the humidity was high.  Because we had flip-flopped a couple days, today was going to be a museum day, starting at the Adirondack Museum in Blue Mt. Lake and visiting the Wild Center in the afternoon.  Plans change.

Our morning started with a wonderful sighting of a pair of luna moths on the side of the motel.  For some of our group, these were life list insects.  We watched the pair mating for quite some time, and finally we had to be on our way.  The next morning all we found were two wings in the grass.  Hopefully the female was able to lay some eggs somewhere.

Because the Blue Ridge Falls had been such a hit the day before, I decided to swing by Buttermilk Falls in Long Lake on our way to the museum.  Water levels were a bit low, so the rush over the rocks was not as impressive as it could be.

Gary and Paul pose next to the river just above the falls.

The Adirondack Museum is known internationally, and for some folks requires a full three days to visit.  We, however, only had about three hours to spend here.

Of course, I had to have the group sit in the big chair.

I think every time I visit I take a photo of Gordon the Guide - it's just such a great sculpture!

One of our group was very excited about the first boat he saw.  As soon as I saw the name on the motor, he said, I knew what it was!

This motor was made in Jackson, MI - where we had all come from just a week before!

I confess I left the group to wander on their own - see what they wanted to see - while I checked out some of my favorites.

Glaucous honeysuckle - a stunning native plant, and one of my favorites, which I now know thanks to my friend Jackie introducing it to me about five years ago.

View of Blue Mt. Lake from the cafe.  Probably one of the most photographed views in the Park.

After we left the museum, there were decisions to be made.  By now the day had cleared - it wasn't going to rain.  Did we want to try Bloomingdale Bog again for the boreal chickadee, or go to the Wild Center?  Six of our group chose the natural history museum, while the rest of us headed back to the bog.

Again, lots and lots of cotton grass in bloom!

The group that came out here on Saturday got some amazing photographs of the gray jays feeding from people's hands.  I sooooo wanted to do this.  Gary had some really high-end trail mix which he put out on the feeding station some people have put along the trail.  And we waited.  And waited and waited and waited.  It was about 2:00 in the afternoon...down time for birds.  Nothing was happening.  After we walked back down the trail, a crow finally flew in a grabbed a nut - that was as exciting as it got.

I did see some lovely dragonflies though, like this painted skimmer, 

and this harpoon clubtail (thanks to Don Henise for ID help).

Now, if you very closely just slightly left of center in this photograph, you will see a small splash of yellow-orange.  That is the crown of a golden-crowned kinglet.  It was flitting around in the trees above us, back and forth across the trail, agitated by the call one of our group was playing of a kinglet.  This bird thought his territory had been invaded.

We left the trail and drove through Bloomindale to another road that crossed the trail a bit to the north - more wooded.  Here was where the boreal chickadee could "always" be found.  So far our seeker was 0 for 2.  This was his third and final try to find the bird.

We played the boreal chickadee's call; we played a recording of chickadees mobbing a screech owl.  We listened, we looked.  We thought we heard a boreal, but never saw it.

We drove further up the road...there was rumor of a black-backed woodpecker.  The road was VERY challenging (as hard as it is to believe, it was worse than the one into Spring Pond Bog), but we found the log that supposedly pointed to the bird's nest, and sure enough, we found not only the hole, but the female was at home and two or three times poked her head out to see what all the fuss was about.  You can just make her out at the center of this photo.

On our way back out we tried once more for the boreal chickadee...for Paul.

All we got was a few black-capped chickadees, which were doing their best to sound like boreals.

We had to admit defeat.


On the way back to Tupper Lake, we stopped at the newly reopened Casa del Sol in Saranac Lake for dinner - another item checked off my Bucket List.  In 1983 I worked at a camp in Lake Placid for the summer and the staff (sans yours truly - I wasn't in the In Crowd) often ate here on their days off.  I heard about it, but never went.  Before leaving NY in 2010, I stopped by to try it, and it was closed.  But this spring I read in Adirondack Life Magazine that it was reopening, and we were there the week they opened!  I hope they can make a go of it.

Roadside Discoveries

I had a couple great finds yesterday.  First, on the way home from work, I saw something moving in the road.  As I slowed down my approach, I saw it was a turtle, and not only that, it was a Blanding's turtle.

Blanding's turtles are one of Michigan's protected species, coming in at the Special Concern level, meaning there are still a fair number around, but the population is in decline and we need to be extra careful to prevent further decline toward extinction.

Blanding's turtles, named after Dr. Blanding, a friend of the man who "discovered" this animal, are easily recognized by their yellow chins.  They also often look like they are smiling.  The lightly spotted shell is more highly domed than the shells of most of our other turtles (the exception being the box turtle, which has a very high dome).

I of course stopped my car and gave this turtle a lift across the road - and a good thing, too, for a whole line of traffic was soon held up by my actions.  Had I not stopped and grabbed her, this turtle might've joined the ranks of all the turtles permanently napping in the middle of the road.  Please watch where you drive!

Later on, while Toby and I were on our nightly stroll, I found this Canada darner lying upside-down in the road.  It was still alive, but barely.  The bent abdomen indicated the location of damage; I suspect it had been hit by a car.  If turtles are difficult for people to avoid, imagine trying to avoid colliding with a fast-moving insect!

I brought the dragonfly home to photograph, for it isn't often one has a chance to snap shots of a dragonfly up close.

The enormous compound eyes are often the first things that grab our attention, but just in front of those two eyes, there are three smaller ones (called ocelli), about where you might consider the bridge of the nose to be located (if these insects actually had noses).  The large plate on the front of the face (where you'd locate a nose) is called the frons, and the next segement below that, with the two lobes pointing downwards, is the clypeus. The smallest bit at the bottom, which on this individual is the lightest blue, is the location of the actual mouthparts.

Here are some interesting factoids about dragonfly eyes.  The ocelli are used mostly for detecting light, kind of like the "third eye" some reptiles exhibit.  The compound eyes, however, are built for vision.  They can have upwards of 30,000 facets on each eye.  The eyes wrap around the whole head and each facet faces a different direction.  Each facet of the eyes reacts differently to stimuli, which means dragonflies are extremely sensitive to movement.   No wonder it is so difficult to sneak up on a dragonfly to photograph it!

But wait, there's more!  Dragonflies not only are able to detect movement in clear and sharp detail that would be just a blur to you or me, but can also see much more color than you or I.  While you and I can see the usual colors of the spectrum, dragonflies can see in the ultraviolet range, AND they can see the plan of polarization of light.  Scientists believe this helps them navigate and identify bodies of water (pg. 22 of Cynthia Berger's Wild Guide: Dragonflies).

It seems that all this phenomenal vision wasn't enough to help this particular dragonfly avoid a car.  Perhaps yesterday's strong winds also had something to do with it.  A sad ending for such a marvelous creature.

Here there be Dragons

 Dragonflies and damselflies are notoriously difficult to photograph.  Still, I never pass up the opportunity to give it a try.

I had a walk to lead this afternoon - six folks signed up, one folk showed up.   It was hot and humid, but we hit the trails anyway - who am I to stay inside when nature calls? 

 There wasn't much happening.  A few green frogs called out from a pond, but that was about it...except for the dragon- and damselflies.  These glorious insects were out on patrol, along with one eastern kingbird, keeping the skies safe for us humans; insects beware.

Mostly we saw the same characters that I saw Thursday afternoon:  the ebony jewelwings along the wooded edges...

...and the dot-tailed whitefaces hovering over the pond.

 

We saw male and female common whitetails (dragonflies, not deer), but they were not amenable to having their photos taken.  However, this very handsome Canada darner (Aeshna canadensis) took a nice long pause on the side of a tree, giving me enough time to dig the camera out of my backpack and take not one, but two shots.

 

I have a bumpersticker that was given to me by a friend, which reads:  Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.  I think insects should read this, reflecting on the appetites of dragonflies (and their kin).  I, for one, am glad that there are dragons around, even if they are small and only after insects.

Walking the Other Way

It was downright freezing in the building this morning. A cup of cocoa and a cup of tea did nothing to warm me up. And yet, visitors were coming in all sweaty - it had to be warmer outside. So, out I went.


Our choices are limited here at work: walk out on the peninsula, or walk around the outlet of the lake. Since I did part of the peninsula yesterday, I opted for the outlet today, doing part of the Sucker Brook Trail and all of the Sage Trail.


Several times this week the lack of blue jays has come up in conversation. They were like fleas on a dog earlier in the summer, but for the last few weeks, no one seems to have seen or heard a one. Until this morning - I heard them around the building and again out on the trails, where I also found this feather. So, they are around...they are just hiding.

These white mushrooms were quite plentiful along the one side of the Sucker Brook Trail. I'm pretty confident they are an amanita, but which one I don't know. Possibly A. bisporigera? Whatever species they are, amanitas are all deadly poisonous.

It turned out to be quite the fungusy day. These little ones were all crowded against a rock in the trail.

How beautiful these fungi were, all covered with large dewdrops, glistening in the sun.

Inchworm, inchworm...

A year and a half ago I was flummoxed by some strange growths on the trunk of this birch tree. The are apparently caused by a fungus, Inontus obliquus. You can read about this tree here.

Today when I walked by the same tree, each of those strange growths on the trunk had sprouted twigs. You can see the dormant twigs on the growths above.

Typically, witch hobble leaves turn a kind of burgandy color at the end of the summer:

But I found these lovely red ones...

... and these orange ones, too.

Hooray! Scat! This was deposited on a small mound in the trail. Probably coyote, since I think it was too large for a fox. (Wait 'til I get a photo of the monsterous bear scat I saw last night!)

These small purple "flowers" caught my eye. Each is less than an inch long, but their purple color stood out. What could it be? I immediately ran through the list of saprophytes I have seen: Indian pipes, beech drops, squawroot, putty root. Hm. I was leaning toward beechdrops, except there were no beeches growing in this part of the woods. Beechdrops (Epifagus virginiana) are parasites on the roots of beeches. I looked all around - sugar maples and a couple black cherries. No beeches. Could there be old, decaying beech roots underground in this spot?

As a whole, the "plant" isn't very attractive. It looks kind of like a dead twig.

The buds were very pretty, too. Who knew a parasite could be so lovely?

Here's a head-on view. It looks almost like it's been dipped in sugar.

I think this is the only time I've actually seen the fruit of the Indian cucumber root, and there's only one left.

Sure wish I knew what kind of mushroom this is! I was thinking Chicken of the Woods, but I don't think so. Any 'shroom experts out there, feel free to chime in. I had no luck with my mushroom book. It's pretty big - like, the size of my head.

The underside of this mushroom was very toothy, and a perfect candidate for a tripod. I'll come back with one sometime and try to get a better shot of the teeth.

Isn't this great? Here we have a witch hobble leaf in the process of emerging! So much for these being strictly next year's buds.

More turtleheads!

Here we have a Solomon's plume in fruit. It's hanging upside-down with dead leaves because the plant was snapped in two.

These were the only two dragonflies I could photograph. There were plenty of others out, but as they flew by, I could swear I heard them give me raspberries and taunt: nya-nya nya-nya nya nyaa!

I believe these are both yellowlegged meadowhawks, a female and male, respectively.

Turkeys! With the macro lens, this was the best I could do. Aren't the poults just so dinosaurish at this age? It's not only humans that make awkward teens.

A face only a mother could love? Can you imagine this fly 100 times larger than this? The stuff of nightmares! Check out the white claws on the feet, and those spines on the back. >