Where the Wild Things Are- This Thing Called a Forest

Lets get to the bottom of this. This thing called a forest. And at the bottom of it all is the very earth on which it grows. As organic/biodynamic farmers, Camphill is already way ahead of the curve when it comes to understanding what dirt is. The modern agricultural model treats soil like, well, dirt. It is considered just a medium for growing things. It holds the fertilizer and chemicals that they use to promote growth of the plants they want, and to kill the plants they don't want. And it works, as they get large crops, which is the bottom line for them. And plants largely cooperate, willing to even grow in water, with appropriate supplements. So why look closer at dirt?

The answer lies deep under the forest, under prairies that have never been tilled. Soil. Real soil. Not just so composted organic matter.Did you know that there are more lifeforms in a hand full of forest soil than there are people on the planet. Living beings who form a complete ecosystem. Of course most of them can't be seen with the naked eye, but it would be a pretty awkward planet if the soil contained that many beings that you could see moving around. Sounds like a good premise for a horror story! But it is far from a bad scenerio. They all add to the health of the soil, each doing a specific job, relying on each other for the survival of the whole forest. 

In just a teaspoon of soil there are miles of fungal filaments. Wait...what? Miles? That mushroom you see on the surface of the ground is just the temporary fruit of a much larger organism. Imagine an apple tree that grows only under ground. Once a year it produces apples that just appear on the floor of the forest, they quickly do their job of producing spores/ seeds to continue the survival of the species, then goes back to life under ground. That is what a mushroom/fungi do. What you see is just a tiny part of it. The microscopic filaments don't just sit under ground doing nothing. They are not capable of getting their own food, so they tap into the tree roots for nourishment. In exchange, the trees get nutrients from the soil that they can't break down and absorb on their own. Many of these fungi are species specific, meaning that they can't live without their trees. The trees go , they die. So what about a tree that is just planted somewhere. A tree can live with out the fungi. People can add supplements to the soil to add their growth. But it will not live as long. It will not be as healthy. But most importantly it will be alone.

What??? I can plant more that one. They will have buddies! It turns out that those micro filaments do far more than feed and get fed. The trees actually communicate with the other trees through them. They can pass on information on predators, such as insects that can harm the trees. They can pass nutrients to trees that don't have the same source as another tree. Surrounding trees can keep a stump alive even though it can not produce leaves itself and feed itself through photosynthesis. The trees care for each other. They take care of each other. If you plant them where they don't have the soil that has developed over thousands of years to be a home for the other beings who support and help them, they are blind and deaf to the world around them. They are at the mercy of insects, disease. They have no one to "talk" to. The same goes for the other plants that grow in the wild. On wild soil. Every time we destroy and acre of the land that has taken thousands of years to become the ecosystem it is, we cannot "replant" it. 

If this interests you and you want to know more I highly recommend the book "The Hidden Life of Trees" by Peter Wohllenben. The library system has it. After I take it back...

Where the Wild Things Are- False Turkeytail

I wasn't going to go out. The sky was grey, the ground damp from melting snow. If this was spring I would have embraced the forty degrees with enthusiasm. But this was November. After two weeks of cold and snow, hunting and wind, there didn't seem much point to it. But I got on my keep dry clothes and boots, put fresh batteries in the camera and headed out.

It wasn't but a few hundred steps into the woods that the magic came back. On a prickly ash a bit of color caught my eye in the grey landscape. A tiny lichen with beautiful yellow growths. Teloschistes Chrysopthalmus. A really big name for something an inch across.

I started to look at the landscape differently. I scanned for any color that was out of place in the greys and browns. Greens showed up underfoot. Leaves that had been pressed by the weight of the snow. Some plants get a head start on spring by putting out leaves that winter over and catch the first rays of spring sunshine. Some of the grasses and sedges still show up green.

Then, as I wandered into wetter spots, the mosses gleamed. Full of moisture from the recent snow melt they seem as vibrant as they did in the summer. Some look like tiny pine trees, others round blossoms, scarcely a quarter inch across, members of the Rhodobryum family.

I sat, crouched, sometimes laying in the wet leaves to get a shot of these wonders. The cold quickly penetrated my clothes. I walked to warm up and to see more things. I ventured into the wet lands, enjoying the partially frozen hummocks as I was able to walk where earlier I was reluctant to. The tamaracks have lost their needles, leaving the ground covered in gold. Deep red leaves of the bunch berries add a festive touch.

Finally climbing up the hill, I spied a chocolate brown growth. My first thought was turkey tail, a common fungus of the local woods. A closer look revealed that this was very thin, and the chocolate color permeated the plant, front and back. Not Turkey tail, but False Turkeytail, Stereum ostrea! A new one for the list! Not bad for a day when I didn't want to go out....

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!