Where the Wild Things Are- Furthering Education

I spent time away, over the last week. I visited the towering pines of Itasca. I walked beneath the bare branches of Maples in Maplewood State Park. Both were wonderful places to wander. 

At a Conference of Phenologists, at the UM Station in Itasca, I learned many new things. Topics covered were as diverse as the people. Global weather patterns, planting trees for a changing climate, butterflys and spiders. Walks where we observed the end stages of many plants, berries, how to tell some of the winter trees apart. I learned how to go online and participate in transposing the writing on botanical specimens at the Bell Museum. Swooping for dragonfly nymphs, handling spiders safely (their safety, not ours). I dipped my toes in the headwaters of the Mississippi and crunched through miles of leaves.

I then went on a private sabatical to Maplewood State Park. Tucked into a camper cabin, I was warm and sheltered when I choose to be. I was prepared for the freezing temps, high winds, and occasional drizzle. Walking, thru less than inviting conditions, meant that I had little company on the trails. The sun played hide and seek, highlighting fall vistas. I saw sunrise over the lake and sunset through the trees. Ducks were moving through the area. Swans and loons. Tree and Fox sparrows darted through the underbrush. 

When it was too dark to wander, I read the story of people who hiked the Appalachian Trail. I learned that I would not like to be a through hiker. Miles a day to be calculated, a schedule to keep, rain or shine. I would rather walk slowly and spend time seeing what is there, rather than what is over the next mountain, or to just reach a goal. At least not a goal of thousands of miles. I wonder how many miles I walked in the Village this summer? That is one number I will never know. 

It is time to start really putting together all the knowledge I gained out there in the woods. I will continue to write this article, but it may be only every other week, as the season slows. Now to stare out the window for a while at the drifting snow...glad at heart that it won't really stay this time.

Where the Wild Things Are- Hunting Season

There are changes taking place deep in the woods. Leaves now lay on the forest floor, sunlight can once again stream down through the branches. Crunchy now, they break down. By spring they will be breaking down further, scarcely recognizable. Eventually they will become food for the growing plants.

The smaller plants are already gone, perhaps just a stem remaining. Late summer flowers still have seed heads, the asters and goldenrod. Milkweed has burst forth from it's pod, floating off on the fall breeze. Grasses are bent, browning.

This is also the season that brings people to the woods. Hunters don their camoflauge and deer stands crop up. This cuts down on the walks that I take. Some of it is self preservation. I won't go out if there are active shooters. So down by the river, in duck season, is a place I no longer go. It is less about my safety than my guilt. I hate to flush up some ducks, and then hear shots down river. Soon, it will be deer hunters, some are already bow hunting. Again, I don't want to chase the deer from their safe spots, out into danger. 

So I walk there less. But when I do I often pause and just look. Sometimes I am lucky enough to see a leaf as it leaves the tree branch. When I do I feel obligated to watch it's journey downward. They spin and spiral. Sometimes almost getting hung up on other branches, then a gust will carry them away. They land softly on the ground, their journey done. I feel blessed to have witnessed their passage.

Where the Wild Things Are- Fall Sounds

The woods are quiet these days. There is no longer the bustle of raising young. Fledglings soaring far from the nest. You can hear the rustle in the fallen leaves of some small creature foraging. A tapping in the trees may be a wookpecker, in search of a tasty bug, but could also be a dry leaf, tapping on a branch. The wind makes the brown leaves rattle, quaking and big toothed aspen almost bare. The tamarac will be turning soon. Golden needles briefly guild the trees, then hit the ground like rain. Tamarac are the only Coniferous tree species that are deciduous. I know, in school you were taught that a tree was either coniferous or deciduous. It is a bit more murky than that. A deciduous tree is defined as on that do not bear their seed in cones and have broad leaves that drop in the fall. A conifer is one that does bear it's seeds in cones and has narrow or overlapping leaves. So needles are really skinny leaves, a tree can have needles and still lose them in the fall, and a conifer can lose it's "needles"  and still be a conifer. Now you know why we teach children there are coniferous and deciduous trees. Because the explanation is easier. 

All that being said, if you have a problem Iding trees, fall can be helpful. For instance, you will now know which trees are tamaracks, as they turn yellow and then drop their needles. Maples turn blazing yellows and reds and stand out in a tree line, so if you can't id them in the woods, go stand a ways off and look. The oaks are generally the last to turn, and usually are browns and deep reds. Some of them hold onto their leaves through the winter (so are they then coniferous dieciduous's??) so any trees holding brown or most likely deep red leaves after the first storms of winter are oaks.

Hazelnuts, which are technically a bush, not a tree, can be told apart in the fall. The beaked hazelnut has leaves that turn yellow, the other, American hazelnut, turns red. Most of what I have seen here are the American ones. We also have another member of that family on the land, the Hop-hornbeam. No actual nuts there, but hops, or hop like fruit. This tree should not be confused with the Hornbeam or Ironwood, which is in the birch family. 

So when you are out staring at the bright fall foliage, you might want to take a closer look. Or not. Just being out in the woods this time of year is reward enough.

Where the Wild Things Are- Life is Everywhere

Now to talk about the uniqueness of the northern part of the village. Lets begin over by Susie's cottage. As the land drops off to the west, it becomes wet. Boggy tamaracks and birches. But first come some of the largest oaks on the land. They shade out the undergrowth and create a parklike setting. As soon as the land dips a bit, there is a lot of growth covering the ground. It soon becomes almost impossible to travel through. Trees have fallen over, sudden deep water makes walking treacherous. But if you brave the journey you find interesting plants and fungi. It is there I found Naked Mitrewort and small Yellow Lady's Slippers, Elfin saddle and Great scented Liverwort. It is a very diverse landscape. The water all comes from springs. There is no way to trace them to their source, they just appear and soon become a stream, flowing west and south, through Harlow's land, under the road, and joining up with the stream that flows to the river. 

To the east of the cottage the land falls away to a different tamarack bog. This one is also spring fed. These springs flow year round. If you go and walk on the snow in the winter, you can hear the water moving under your feet. This area also is full of many plant species including Orchids and Perolas. Up slope from them, the remnants of a oak woods eases into a open area slowly filling in with goldenrod and asters, sumac and shrubs. Several small ponds fill in the low areas between the oaks and the fields. Each has it's own species that have maintained life quarantined from the others. These woods and ponds stretch to the northern end of the property. 

Across the road to the west, past the cow pasture and beyond the marl pits is another pond area and oak knoll. This too is spring fed, trickling through the marl pits and flowing across the open fields, past St Chris' House, under the road and to the river. Hidden along the way are bog areas, deep water, and cattail marshes. It is here the Tufted Loostrife, crested fern, and horsetails call home. 

Whether high and dry, or perpetually wet, the land here has one thing in common. It supports an incredible amount of life.

Where the Wild Things Are- Crunch Leaves

We are at the time when things have come to the balance point again. Light and Dark meet at the halfway point, from which we slide slowly into the cold and dark for six months. The lessening sunlight is the signal for many things in nature that it is time to pull back from growth and store up reserves until it it time to  spring forth again. It is most evident in the trees as they lose their leaves and give up their fruit. The vascular plants are also losing leaves and dying back to the roots. This leaves the forest floor a bit more open, the sunlight reaching into the depths again. I don't know why it should, or if this happens every year, but it has triggered a blooming. Deep in the foliage, under fallen leaves I am finding wild strawberries in full blossom! There shouldn't be time for another fruiting, but I like to imagine a small chipmunk, when out gathering last minute seeds and nuts for winter stores, suddenly finding a tender berry to snack on.

That note reminds me that I should be observing the nuts on the oak trees. They go in cycles and last year was notable for it's lack of them. This causes hard times for the animals who depend on them for sustinance. It was a good year for hazelnuts, so I'd better start looking up!

In past years I have always loved the fall. The bright colors, cool temps. This year I find myself a bit reluctant as I observe it's arrival. The summer was such a rush of plants, always something new to find, that I don't want to let go of that. But to everything there is a time. Nature reminds us of that everyday and fall is no exception. So I shall soon be walking in the crunchy leaves, blue sky stretching out overhead. Geese will wing their way south and the morning dew will change to frost lingering in the shadows. Each day will bring special joys, as nature continues it's yearly show.

Where the Wild Things Are- Decorated Spider Webs

Any walk that starts off with Bottle Gentian is worth going on. Anything past that is just icing on the cake. That being said, there were other things to see. The sneezeweed is blooming, and is much prettier than it's name. Large leaved Aster and Zig-zag Goldenrod are plentiful in the woods. The biggest surprise was the sight of thousands of Nodding Bur Marigold blooming where water once stood a foot or more deep. With the breaking of the beavers dam earlier this summer, I didn't know what, if anything would grow in the newly exposed mud. It turns out that the Marigold found it a perfect place to expand into, covering from grass to water with a golden carpet. 

If you walk in the morning, when the dew is still on the grasses, it is easy to see spider webs. They are also there when the dew isn't on, but it does make them stand out. The flat ones with a hole in the middle are from Funnel spiders. They lurk under that hole, waiting for their prey.

I know some people don't like spiders much, but they are far more afraid of you and you will not see most of them. If you do see one, maybe take a moment to really look at them. You can tell them from other insects by their eight legs, and two body segments. The head/thorax is where the legs are attached and the rest is the abdomen. Most spiders around here have 8 eyes, some have 6. They range widely in size, but none are as large as those horror movies would like you to believe. 

If you are lucky enough to see one of those big round spider webs, decorated with the morning dew, take a moment and really look at it. They are made by Orbweavers, some of the most noticeable spiders in our world. A lot of orbweavers spin their web every night, and take it down in the morning. They take it down by eating it, as it is made of protein. Then it "recycled" as new webbing. Scientists say it is 80-90% recycled protein in each web. I really don't know how they know this. Somethings I don't really want to know. However they do it, it is a remarkable achievement. Get out and enjoy nature.

Where the Wild Things Are- Blessings of the Wild

The woods is changing. It, of course, has been changing all summer long. Plants grow and fade. Blossoms of one week are gone the next, replaced by seemingly endless varieties. But these changes go further. Foliage once vivid green is fading to yellows. Bright reds ease into the shadows. In a normal year the brown grasses would have given warning. A softening that allows us to slowly accept the inevitable. This years rains have kept the grass green and growing beyond that time. The startling orange of the maple feels out of place. We aren't tired of endless hot, dry days. We are left feeling like we were somehow cheated out of proper summer. Can it really be Fall already? 

If it makes you feel better, the color changes are a bit early this year. You aren't imagining it. And on the brightside, the fall colors are predicted to be amazing. All I can do is recommend that you savor every minute. All to soon it will be....nope. I will not say it. Live life in the moment!

The Aster's and Goldenrods are amazing. Yellows, blues and whites dot the landscape. I am slowly sorting them out, but sometimes it seems an uphill battle. More photos, revisiting plants to look for clues missed the first time. Just when I think I know what to pay attention to in IDing, the species change and the important parts change also. In Goldenrod it is the size and shape of the blossoms and heads, and leaf shape. In Asters, where the leaves are, how many petals in a flower, the color, not of the petals but the center, and what color it changes to as it fades. I might do better if I wasn't distracted by the pollinators, buzzing around. I haven't even tried to sort out types of bees, content for now with just snapping photos for later perusal. 

As the seasons march on I am still amazed by the fact that each time I go out I see things I haven't seen before. The blessings of the wild...

Where the Wild Things Are- Goldenrod

Lets start with the most obvious plant out there these days....Goldenrod! It is easy to dismiss it. It seems to be everywhere. How interesting can it be? Well, the more I learn the more interesting life gets. I have found out that there are 12 different species of Goldenrod in Todd County. When you start actually looking at them, there are differences. The flowers themselves vary in size and number. The leaves vary widely. Most live in dry areas, but three species only grow in wet areas. They vary from 1 foot to 5 feet tall (Even taller in a good growing year like this!). There is something to be said for walking through Goldenrod and Joe Pye Weed over your head and listening to the buzz of bees all around you. They are difficult to tell apart without actually taking the time to look at them. I have found at least 5 species on Camphill land. From the Showy to the Grass leaved, they are worth taking the time to look at as you go about your day. 

As you look at them you will find small white flowers, some blue, some purple sharing the same ground. These are the Asters. They too come in many varieties, 14 to be exact. They belong to the same family as the goldenrod, and one of the goldenrod actually has white flowers an looks just like an Aster! They only found out that it was a goldenrod when they discovered that it could cross with the goldenrods. 

Besides the golden grasslands, are the swampy areas. I found Narrow Leaved Cattails in abundance. These are an introduced species which are now widespread. There is a hybrid between them and the Broad leaved Cattail which is the native species. Since both abound in Camphill, the hybrids are no doubt there also. 

Hidden behind grass and cattail I found a bog that I didn't know existed! To me there is no joy quite like bouncing up and down on a mat of floating vegetation and watching the ripples go out across the pond! In this little corner of wetland, I found Nodding Bur Marigold, Swamp Smartweed, and Arum Leaf Arrowhead, all new to my list! I must make a note to check out this spot next summer and see if it holds even more surprises earlier in the year!

Where the Wild Things Are- Stickers

There is a time, between when the woods is full of blossoms and color and when the fall color begins. It is a short time when green dominates and summer seems to last forever. Then the first leaves start to turn. It must just be a diseased plant, a weak one that is just turning because of that. It can't really be fall yet? But the colors creep out, a bush here, a few leaves there. The berries go from green to brilliant reds, blues and purples. The fungi do their thing, adding oranges, yellows, pinks, everything from almost microscopic to dinnerplate sized. The goldenrod are in full bloom. The thistles add purple blossoms. Fall is suddenly surrounding us, regardless of what a calendar may say.

The final sign, to me, is the most annoying one. Stickers. Thousands of them, dangling over the path, sitting just to one side, waiting. Now, stickers do have a purpose. The seeds contained within them are necessary. Either they fulfill their destiny and become a new plant next year after having been borne along on so animal or human to a prime location, or they feed hungry mouths for the winter. Nothing goes to waste in the woods.

I haven't really mentioned most of the wildlife that lives among us, but they rely on the seeds and berries produced by the plants, or eat the plants themselves. Insects of all kinds, mice, voles, moles and shrews, rabbits and squirrels, frogs, toads and salamanders. They all eat and need to find the food in the area in which they live. Most never travel out of a few hundred yards of where they are born. So I will forgive the woods for the work of having to remove stickers each time I leave. I actually remove them as I go, so as not to contaminate another plot with a plant it may not have yet. So as I drop them, I am more than likely feeding something that will just come along and find an unexpected snack. 

So, stickers. Not so much fun, but just a necessity of life.

Where the Wild Things Are- Scientific Measures

It is time for some numbers. My wanderings around the village, are, after all, a scientific endeavor, and has a purpose. It is to record the biodiversity of the area. In that recording comes counting species seen. I am only half way through the year. August totals have yet to be determined, so we will deal with March through July for now. 

I have broken the areas I am looking at into seven different areas. This enables me to keep a general idea of where and how widespread species are. So each time I walk an area, there is a list of things seen. Each of those lists gets a page, which are then used to create a master list for the area. Actually several master lists. I keep plants, trees and shrubs, Ferns and allies, Fungi, butterflies, dragonflies and other insects, all on separate master lists. Then all the master lists are combined into Total masterlists. Then I have numbers of species seen in the village. 

So how many species have I seen? At this point I am only including the ones that I have positively identified. There are more that will eventually get id'd, but for now they are not counted. So, talking plants, Vascular plants...140. Yep. 140 species so far. That's a lot of flowers that I never knew existed. That doesn't include the 25 trees and shrubs. Or 10+ ferns and allies (horsetails, rushes, moonworts, etc.) Then there is the 30+ species of butterflies, moths, dragonflies, and assorted insects. Fungi...most of them unidentified as yet and may never be, but just counting the ones I can tell are different, over 30. I won't even mention the grasses, sedges and reeds.

So we are at 235 different things that I know make their home in the village. That doesn't count animals and bird species. I am amazed, and awed by the wide diversity of life that thrives when we just leave places be. 

The other numbers I would like to bring up deal with size. The size of the biggest things that live along side of us. Trees. Since the area has been subjected to logging in the last 100 years, the trees here have had limited time to achieve greatness. That being said, they have done quite well tucked away. The biggest I have seen so far is a Bur Oak. 129" girth. It would take two people just to reach around it. Other oaks are a Red Oak at 82", a White Oak at 81", and a Pin Oak at 59.5", all good sizes for their species. There is a Basswood at 122", and an Elm at 111". Trees that are not, by nature, large, have grown well here also. I've seen Birch that is 62" and  a Willow that is 93". The one that surprised me the most was an Ironwood that measured 45.5 inches, quite a bit larger than the normal. Surrounded by "Normal" sized Ironwood, it is the grandfather of the forest. 

So that is enough numbers for now. I am content to know that I saw a White Elfin Saddle Mushroom and Highbush Cranberries today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?