Thaw Walk

The frigid string of January days has finally been broken.  Both yesterday and today featured daytime temperatures that strongly called to us to venture outside.  There has been a down side.  Yesterday included a heating gas delivery that was only twenty-nine days after the previous delivery.  That is most unusual since two winter months usually separate them.  This week also included a trip to the ER.  A fall while descending the seemingly clear driveway saw me land on my shoulder neck area and smack the back of my head on the frozen gravel surface.  Not wanting to do a Natasha Richardson rerun, caution ruled.  I had  the recommended  C scan.  Soreness persists but once again luck ruled and no lasting damage was done.

This picture shows the three spring transplanted Cardinal Flower plants still covered by snow and protected with a wire cage.  That was the plan as the woods to the south keep these plants in shade at this time of year.  Most of the snow cover is gone but here its insulating quality persists.  Water is flowing out from the base of the ridge as can be seen in the two areas of open water.  These Cardinal Flower plants are very near but just above moisture.  All of the needs of this rare native plant may have been provided in this spot. We shall see.

This dead stick supporting fungus growth is very close to the Cardinal Flower plants.  An old long dead tree is nearby.  The cone collar of long ago rotted tree parts caught my eye.  Rumor has it that Lady Slipper plants grow in the company of rotting wood.  They sell for about seventy dollars each and I would like to nearly guarantee success with soil preparation before parting with that much money.  I will return with buckets to mine some of this black gold.  The shape of the ridge in the background suggests the appearance of Diamond Head.  That is just a bonus on this warm to us day.

This double tiered fungus growing on a dead Hemlock trunk always catches my eye.  I wonder if the red coloration is the result of exposure to direct sunlight?

This old friend is nearly gone.  Early in our ownership of this land, every walk in the woods featured me backing into close contact with this giant.  There was an indentation in the trunk that would just hold me under a huge branch.  That location made me feel connected to nature in a deeply personal way.  Now that trunk has joined five others that previously fell.  Only one trunk remains.  I wonder which of us will fall next.

This Hickory branch has been on the ground for several years.  Nature's plan has it being converted to forest soil and the pictured fungus plays a part in that process.  I find this decay supporting new growth beautiful!

Late Winter Woods Walk

Our days huddled inside in response to the bitterly cold arctic air that recently swept across here have finally ended.  It was time to have a walk about to examine the status of the plants.  This reddish fungus may well have been the object of a fall photo when it was alive with new growth.  Now its two nearby companions are clearly dead while this one may still hold some life.  The piece of hickory nut shell is as it was found but general housekeeping was performed before I moved on.  Luck continues to stay close by me since the dead grass stem was seen to be surrounded by fungus before the mighty tug.  No damage was done.

This nearby tree sports fungal growth of a kind that I have never seen before.  The dark groove near their base is an opening into the interior.  Its function remains unknown.  Return visits to this tree may reveal the growth cycle if this fungus is indeed growing now.

This shaggy yellow birch prompted a memory of a John Burroughs confession.  In trying to plan my retirement, I read of the outdoor experiences of naturalist authors.  Burroughs was a favorite since his time was spent in a nearby section of New York State.  This made it possible for me to visit Woodchuck Lodge and his camp nearer to the Hudson River.  In one of his essays he describes a questionable act while tramping about in the Catskills.  On the spur of the moment, he set fire to the highly flammable bark curls on a standing yellow birch.  Flames climbed far up into the top of the tree.  Having read of his regret of his questionable actions, I did not follow in those footsteps.  My evil smile was prompted by the thought of such a blaze.  It must have been an impressive sight.  Birch bark curls have long been used to start a campfire burning.

This is our twice transplanted sycamore tree.  One of the dear older ladies that took some delight in our village gardens gave us a sycamore seedling.  It was planted near the septic system since these trees appreciate ample moisture.  A short time later we found our rural retirement land.  Baby Sycamore was among the first plants moved to what would become our new home.  Most of our land consists of deep glacial deposits of freely draining dry gravel.  We do own a small section of bedrock ridge.  The water that seeps from the base of the ridge keeps the sycamore tree suitable wet.  The tree has reached a sufficient size now to be shedding its tan bark, revealing white bark that marks a maturing tree.  The frigid polar air turned the surface water to ice making it possible to walk here without getting wet feet.  A visit to this tree always brings to the surface pleasant memories of Ellie and all the help she freely gave to these then young gardeners.