The Other Side of the River

Time and distance can result in change. Even a short distance can make all the difference. Last week I made another trip to the Ice Meadows, except this time I met my friend Jackie and we toured the opposite shore - the eastern shore. This side gets different lighting during the day, as one would expect. There are probably myriad other differences as well, all tying in to microclimate, lighting, moisture, current, etc. This side has less cobble-y beach, with vegetation growing right down to the water's edge. It also has some wonderful marble slabs that rise like a miniature mountain range. This is prime sunbathing real estate for the younger crowd, and a great place to explore.

As usual, Jackie and I were scoping out the plant scene. We confirmed some of my sightings from earlier in the week, like this wide-leaved ladies tresses (Spiranthes lucida). The one I photographed earlier was just barely opening, and I was unable to determine for sure if it had the yellow lower lip. The specimens today left no room for doubt.



This tall pointy orchid caught my eye, and I asked Jackie which one it was. We stopped, looked, photographed, and had to key it out, for it was new to her as well. It turned out to be tubercled orchid (Platanthera flava), which isn't particularly rare or anything, but for us it was a great find.
The word "tubercled" refers to the little bump, or tubercle, found in the middle of the lower lip.


Another name for this flower is pale green orchid. Not very clever, but certainly descriptive.


Another new plant for me was thimbleweed (Anemone virginiana). A member of the buttercup family, this native flower of dry areas was used for a variety of medicine by native people, including a cure for tuberculosis and diarrhea.


I am constantly amazed at the variety of cinquefoils that exist. Just when I think I've seen them all, a new one pops up. This is tall cinquefoil (Potentilla/Drymocallis arguta). To me it looked much like any other cinquefoil blooming right now, but it is indeed a different species.


Did you notice any critters in the thimbleweed photo above? If not, here is a close up: a stonefly exuvia, or shed exoskeleton. This is the time of year to find these empty shells all along moving waterways. The nymphs crawl out on to rocks or vegetation, their backs split open, and out crawl the adults.


We were lucky enough to actually find an adult, too!


One of the Ice Meadows' rare plants is spiked nut rush. I couldn't find any information about "spiked nut rush" on the NYS Rare Plant List, but I did find whip nutrush (Scleria triglomerata) listed as found in Warren County, so I am wondering if that is what this is.


Wedged into the crevices of the marble slabs were some wonderful spatulate-leaved sundews (Drosera intermedia). Sundews rank right up there among my favorite plants. First, they are quite attractive, with their red fingers and greenish-yellow "palms". Then there's the droplet at the end of each "finger." This droplet entices insects, who think it might be a source of food. A rude awakening is in store for them, however, as this tantalizing droplet turns out to be more of a sticky goo than a sweet snack. Trapped, the insect struggles. This triggers rapid growth by the fingers, which reach over and further ensnare the insect. Then, the plant slowly digests the insect by covering it with digestive enzymes. Mmmm. Glad I'm too big to be considered a meal.


A further treat was the fact that the sundews were blooming!


Another insect we encountered was this shield bug.


And we startled this very large and moody milk snake in the woods, where it was trying to catch a few rays that were filtering through the pines. It did NOT want its photo taken, and repeatedly struck at Jackie who valiantly tried to block its escape route. After a short chase, we let it go.


Meanwhile, back on the shoreline, I added frostweed (Verbesina virginica) to my life list. Again, I thought this was just another evening primrose until Jackie corrected me. Frostweed has been on my radar for a while, not for this flower, but for the frothy ice flowers made from the freezing sap that erupts from the stem in the fall. I've seen images of this, but have never seen it myself. Now that I know what the plant looks like, I know what to look for when the season is right.


A number of dragonflies and damselflies were flitting about the shoreline - it was a good day for them. I haven't had a chance to ID this one yet, but I suspect it is a female because its colors tend toward brown rather than bright.


Rock sandwort (Minuartia michauxii) is a delightful little flower, growing in clumps along the rocks. Another new plant for me, and I got a bonus beetle with this shot. I'll be sending it in to BugGuide to get an ID on it, if possible.


This was probably my favorite flower for the day: racemed milkwort (Polgala polygama). It's a ridiculously tiny flower, difficult to photograph, but I gave it a shot. Note how each flower looks a lot like gaywings, also a Polygala. Jackie said they aren't to common, but we lucked out and found several bunches of them.


Wearing the same color scheme, we have the swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata). None of the milkweeds are blooming in Newcomb, yet, but here in the Ice Meadows they are starting to open.



We saw several of these things, but have no idea what it is. I suspect it's a gall of some kind. I'll continue researching it, but if anyone knows, feel free to chime in.


Bearberry (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi) was one of our last finds. Jackie was determined to find this low-growing plant, which makes a wonderful ground cover. Later in the season its lovely green leaves will be mixed with bright red berries, which bears are reputed to enjoy. A quick scan around the Internet shows that it is listed in many herbals, both as a food plant and for medicine. All parts are claimed to have some use.


As always, it was a great day to be along the river!

Another Day at the Ice Meadows

Tuesday dawned with a pea soup fog. I love the fog and how it makes the world mysterious, but it also often signals a hot and humid day ahead - ugh. It didn't take long, however, for the sun to start to burn it off, and by 8:00 AM the blue sky was already putting in an appearance.

I had to go to The City again for an eye appointment, so I left early. The sun hadn't quite burned away all the moisture, yet, and the roadsides were thick with dew-covered spider webs. These are ephemeral works of art, for once the sun hits them, they dry up and their magic is gone.

After passing hundreds of webs, I finally pulled over and got the camera out. I even had a tripod in the car, so I was set!




By the time I returned my gear to the car and headed back down the road (grateful I had given myself plenty of extra time), the webs were already vanishing.


Several hours later, with blurry vision thanks to the eye dilation drops, I was headed back to the mountains. It had turned out to be quite a spectacular day after all - not hot and humid as I had thought. I knew I had to stop at the Ice Meadows again, to see the new flowers that were blooming.

My friend Jackie had recently been there and had posted on her blog (Saratoga Woods and Waters) a flower I'd never seen before, and I wanted to see it for myself.

I stuffed my Newcomb's field guide and my tripod into my backpack, slung the camera bag over my shoulder and I was off. A young couple were sunbathing on the rocks, and directed me towards a different path to get down to the cobbles without having to scramble past them.

The first thing to catch my eye (besides the sunbathers) were the roses. Not only were they blooming in pink profusion, but their delicate scent wafted on the wind.


Whorled loosestrife (Lysimachia quadrifolia) was also in bloom. I kept cursing my eyes, for everything was blurry. I had to trust that my camera was in focus when I took each shot. Not only that, but I had to wear my sunglasses because my pupils were still wide open and the world was a blinding glare without them, so I couldn't even be sure I had good exposures. Fortunately, the camera didn't let me down.

I was totally taken in by this flower, and found myself suffering from a profound case of Speckled Alder Syndrome (only fellow students of Dr. Joel Howard will likely understand that reference). I took photo after photo of the flowers, and whipped out my field guide to ID it. It is seldom that Newcomb's lets me down, and this was one of those times. It was only later when I actually sat back and looked at the whole plant that I gave myself a dope slap - it was red-osier dogwood (Cornus sericea).


A few blue flag irises (Iris versicolor) were blooming, their delicate petals whipped by the wind, which, of course, was blowing quite strongly.


Isn't this bedrock wonderful? And do you see what is perched at the top?


It was a lone harebell (Campanula rotundifolia). I may just use this image on some business cards.


I scared up a couple ladybugs clinging to the vegetation. Just in case they were one of the Lost Ladybugs, I snapped a photo. Unfortunately, this is the seven-spotted ladybug, seven spotted ladybug (Coccinella septempunctata), not one of the lost native species.


I was surprised to see butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa) in bloom. This plant had very yellow blossoms - usually the ones I've seen have been much oranger. A member of the milkweed clan, this native flower is a favorite with many bees and butterflies.


There were lots of signs of people visiting the Ice Meadows. Somehow I doubt that the ones who leave these signs behind are there to enjoy the rare vegetation.


Thanks to our recent rains (about 3" so far this month), the river was running well.


I watched this couple put in their tube and float downstream, with Fido paddling faithfully alongside.


I simply love viper's bugloss (Echium vulgare), even if it is a non-native. The blue and pink coloration is simply a showstopper.


Back in the woods along the trail, I was floored by a carpet of partridge berry (Mitchella repans) in bloom. Hundreds of these tiny white flowers were scattered along the forest floor, like so many stars in the sky. Unfortunately, there was an equal amount, if not greater, of poison ivy. Still, I plunked myself down to get a shot or two. And I was completely surprised by what I discovered: the tiny white flowers are incredibly furry!


I drove further downstream to another trail leading to the river. This was a gentler incline, with a little less PI along the way. When I hit the cobbled shore, I found some old friends and new.

One plant that surprised me to be in bloom already was ladies tresses, one of the Spiranthes orchids. I don't know which one this is, however. It's really a bit too early for nodding ladies tresses, which is the only one with which I am familiar. I'll send the photo to an orchid enthusiast I know and see if he has a better idea. Update: the general consensus is that this is wide-leaved ladies tresses (Spiranthes lucida), which is the earliest-blooming of the ladies tresses. The thing is, with trying to ID these, is that the leaves don't appear until later in the season, kind of like coltsfoot. Blooming times can be helpful, as can location.


While my mission this day was to add a specific new plant to my life list, the highlight was what occurred next. I heard a peep peep peeping in the grasses. Looking around, my eye caught a swift movement. There, dashing away as fast as its legs would carry it, was a baby sandpiper. Update: I believe these are spotted sandpipers (Actitis macularia).


It just couldn't get away from me fast enough, and soon vanished into the vegetation and rocks. Nearby, Mom was calling, either trying to get the offspring's attention so it would come to her, or mine to draw me away. The latter is most likely, since she kept flying back and forth.


I soon turned around and went back to the little pool. Mom flew back toward Junior and began calling to him again. I watched as the little peep scrambled over the rocks...


...and into the water, where it paddled around to the next rock. I always thought these were wading birds, but apparently they can swim, too, or at least they can when they are small.

Once more, as soon as it was aware that I was taking its photo, the peep took off for the safety of the shore and vanished.


And I did find the flower I sought: sticky tofieldia (Triantha glutinosa), aka: sticky false asphodel. What a beautiful little flower.


A touch to the stem explained the name. It didn't stick with a glue-like ooze, nor did it grab with tiny barbed hooks. Still, the stem has a sticky quality to it. This delightful plant is listed as an endangered species in New York State - I am thrilled to have seen it, and am grateful for the tip from Jackie!


Right by the river's edge, rose pogonias (Pogonia ophioglossoide) were in bloom - lots of them. They may be, like nodding ladies tresses, one of our more common orchids, but I still enjoy seeing them.


As I was leaving the Ice Meadows (I really did have to get home), I saw one more flower: small sundrops (Oenothera perennis), a small member of the evening primrose family.


As I drove away, I noticed that much of my vision had returned to normal. Whew! Still, it wasn't until almost 7:00 that I was enough back to normal that I could go outside without the sunglasses. We seldom appreciate the miracle that is our eyesight until we start to lose it, even if only temporarily.

Falling Brook with Evelyn, Emily & Bob

It wasn't a beautiful day to be out, what with the chilly, spritzing weather, but it was an afternoon botanizing with friends and visiting a new location, so that more than made up for the less-than-ideal weather. The good news, weather-wise, was that the cool weather kept the blackflies at bay, even if the mosquitoes were oblivious.

So, I drove to Minerva to meet Evelyn, who'd invited me to join her, Emily DeBolt (who, it turns out, is one of the owners of Fiddlehead Creek Nursery, the native plant nursery I wrote about a week or so ago), and Evelyn's friend Bob for an excursion in search of showy orchis, which we suspected would be past blooming.

The great thing about going out on these forays with Evelyn is that I get to explore new locations, places that I'd probably never visit otherwise. Today's destination was a private trail that connects to state land, which leads to Stony Pond. It was all uphill going in, but at a leisurely botanizing and photographing pace, the incline was barely noticeable.

Running through this property, and more or less paralleling our walk, was this incredibly lovely stream, called Falling Brook. It cascades down the hill across bare rock that in some places was flat as a pancake, causing the water to sheet across.


Our first crossing of the stream was via this bridge, which was built for the snowmobiles that use this trail in winter.

Emily and I were determined to photograph everything that caught our eye. One of the first plants was Indian cucumber root (Medeola virginiana), which has wonderful flowers that are practically inconspicuous as they dangle beneath the umbrella-like leaves.

Sweet cicely (Osmorhiza claytoni) was blooming, too. This plant, with its tiny, strange flowers, threw us all for a loop. Three plant people, and not a field guide among us! Good thing Bob had his book, when we found him, and he quickly identified sweet cicely for us. The flowers are less than a 1/4" across - likely less than 1/8"; very very small, making the plant seem quite delicate.

As we gained elevation, Canada violets (V. canadensis) became almost prolific.

We found a robust patch of sanicle, or black snakeroot (Sanicula marilandica), about which I previously wrote.

Ferns were, of course, all around us. Some, like this broad beech fern (Phegopteris/Thelypteris/Dryopteris hexagonoptera), were easy to identify. Others, because they didn't have their fertile fronds, were more difficult. Emily was most taken by the rattlesnake ferns, were were growing here in fairly good quantity.

If you look around, leaf galls are really quite common. I have no idea which ones these are, but Emily found a really nice witch hazel leaf with three witch hazel cone galls, which are made by the witch hazel cone gall aphid (Hormaphis hamamelidis).

As we suspected, the showy orchis (Orchis spectabilis) were all past blooming. Still, now that we know where they are, and what the plants look like, we can return next year, around the end of May, and look for them again.

On the way back downhill towards our cars, Evelyn wanted us to take a detour to see the falls. I'm glad she did, for they were spectacular:

You can't really get an idea of their height here, but they were quite tall. I took some video, which I would post, but I held the camera vertically to take it, and the program insists on posting it horizontally, so the water would look like it's falling to your left. I decided that was just a bit too odd, so you are stuck with the above still photo instead.

Many thanks to Evelyn for another great trip!

Another New Plant for Me

While wrapping up part one of an aquatic insects program yesterday, my eyes were caught by some small yellow flowers blooming at the edge of the woods. I didn't have my camera with me because it looked like rain, but I came back later that afternoon to get some shots.

It turns out this is northern bush honeysuckle, Diervilla lonicera. While in the honeysuckle family (Caprifoliaceae), it is not considered a "true" honeysuckle because it is not in the genus Lonicera. The genus Diervilla, named after a 17th century French surgeon who introduced these plants to Europe around 1700, consists of three species, all bush honeysuckles.

The flowers are just getting going here, and, according to Newcomb's, will continue to bloom throughout the summer. They are said to be fragrant, but I didn't take a sniff - I was in a rush to meet someone for a botanical foray (which I shall write about in the next post).

Because this isn't a European plant, there isn't a lot of folklore associated with it (at least not that I could find). Historically, though, it was used by a number of native peoples for a variety of things: diuretic, eyewash, constipation, stomach pain, a treatment for a prolapsed uterus, a venereal aid, and to treat vertigo. How effective it was for any of these ailments, however, my sources do not say.