Like a Charm

White flakes floated earthward today and so I donned my snowshoes for the first time this season and joined the party.

s-snow!

Everywhere I looked, the world had transformed.

s-snow piling high

And ever so slowly mountain ranges took shape.

s-squirrel cache snow

One mountain in particular caught my attention,

s-squirrel cache 1

for I’ve been visiting it and two others nearby over the past few weeks.

s-refectory 1

Where previously, the refectory indicated hours of fine dining,

s-squirrel refectory snow

today there was none. But, I suspect by tomorrow a certain red squirrel that usually squawks at me will be back. Today, he probably hunkered down in his drey, hidden somewhere in the hemlocks above and out of my view. My intention is to keep an eye on him, just as he’ll continue to keep an eye on me, for I want to watch tunnels form and midden piles grow.

s-pinecone scales

After all, he worked hard this past summer and fall harvesting cones and acorns to fill his cupboards in preparation for the winter months. Though those months aren’t yet upon us, even in the fringe he enjoys what he’s gathered.

s-deer rub snow

I left his home base behind and continued on, noting how the snow had gathered–atop the ragged remains of a deer rub,

s-goldenrod snow

balanced on winter weeds,

s-snow tucked within

curled inside leaves,

s-snow on beech

and dangling from others.

s-oak and hemlock

A fun find came into view below the towering trees, where the veins of red oak mirrored the structure of the hemlock twigs and needles it was caught between.

s-snow at home

At last it was getting dark and time to return to the homestead.

And it was time to celebrate with the only dance for which my feet can match the rhythm–the snow dance. I’m so glad I wore my pajamas inside out and slept with the silverware last night. It worked like a charm yet again.

 

New York by Nature

Having grown up in a small town outside of New Haven, Connecticut, I used to be quite knowledgeable about city ways, but these days woodland trails are more to my liking. Stepping out of our comfort zone and onto the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn this past weekend, I was sure I’d be a nervous wreck. The last time we’d ventured there, our sons were six and eight, and my knuckles white as I gripped their hands.

N-NBC

That was then. Maybe it was because we didn’t have young ones in tow, or because I decided to embrace the moment and smile at each person I was able to make eye contact with, this time was different. Even some cold rain didn’t stop us from enjoying the city’s vibe . . .

N-bakery

including all its colors and flavors.

n-Central Park meets autumn

On a new day, the autumnal tapestry was like deja vu all over again, since we’d already experienced fall foliage over a month ago at home.

n-London Plane sycamore hybrid 1

Even tree bark displayed variations of color, some that I thought I knew, until I found one with a name plaque.

n-London Plane

London Plane? Sycamore had been my first choice. It turns out that London Plane is a hybrid developed over 300 hundred years ago from the native  sycamore and oriental planetree.  And it was used as an ornamental to line streets . . . or park paths.

n-sycamore leaves1

Its scientific name, acerifolia, came from its maple-like leaves. I knew I’d learn plenty in the Big Apple, but didn’t expect trees to be among the lessons.

n-elms intermingling 2

As we walked through Central Park, street vendors displayed their works below, while American elms gracefully danced across the canopy above.

n-Central Park 1

And buildings magically arose from the rocky substrate.

n-trees and buildings

We zigged and zagged and made our way about, though I had to depend on my guy for directions. I can find my way out of the woods, but even though there were maps throughout the park and the city streets are set in a grid, I was completely disoriented at each intersection.

n-house sparrow 2

Perhaps it was because I was more taken with the little things. Even seeing house sparrows felt like a treat.

n-house sparrow 1

They were so tame.

n-Canada goose

I felt right at home among the Canada geese and . . .

n-gray squirrel 1

gray squirrels.

n-Stuart Little

We immediately recognized Stuart Little as he tacked back and forth.

n-strawberry fields forever

And then we wound our way around again, pausing by Strawberry Fields–and imagined. If only.

n-snowflake by Cartier

Back on the streets, we were dazzled by snowflakes . . .

n-Christmas lights 2

and Christmas lights.

n-Pat's Place

And then it was time to cross over to Brooklyn where we found a tour guide stepping out of his brownstone.

n-cement tracks

Like others before us, with him we pounded miles and miles of pavement and left behind our own tracks.

n-World Trade Center 1

He took us to the World Trade Center, which we viewed with awe . . .

n-9:11 memorial

and Ground Zero, where we felt the presence of so many as we remembered.

n-SoHo

Soho was our next destination, and though we didn’t shop, the architecture was enough to fill our minds with abundance . . .

n-architecture 1

and variety.

n-Wicked sign 1

No visit to NYC is complete without taking in a performance and my guy, who is the world’s biggest fan of The Wizard of Oz, chose WICKED.

N-Wicked set 2

I won’t say it was my favorite show, but the set, costumes, acting, dancing, and singing were all well worth the experience. He thoroughly enjoyed it.

n-Rock center 4

Another must do is Rockefeller Center–or at least the ice rink. We didn’t skate, but enjoyed watching people take a spin, some more agile than others.

n-Rockefeller tree 1

Overlooking the rink, but encased in scaffolding stories high, a transformation was in the works . . .

n-Rockefeller 2

from a Norway Spruce discovered in State College, Pennsylvania, to the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.

n-toy soldier 2

Watching over all were the toy soldiers. And if you have ever wondered if they come alive after most of the world that gathers in New York goes to bed, they do. We know this first hand for we heard them. Our hotel room was located nearby and at about 2am we were awakened each night by an instrumental performance that had a symphonic sound. We couldn’t hear anyone in adjoining rooms. And we never heard a peep outside of Radio City Music Hall, so it had to be the toy soldiers and angels that surrounded the rink–and you have to become a believer.

n-Grand Central Station

At long last, it was Monday morning and time to head back through the terminal of Grand Central Station to make our way up the northeast corridor.

n-Allen, Pat and Tim

But . . . we left with fond memories and promises to return for somehow we who live in rural Maine raised a city boy.

Posing from left to right, my guy, our youngest and one of his roommates who also hails from Maine.

They’re both comfortable by nature in New York City.

 

 

 

Snow White Magic

Our first official snow storm of the season left us with about an inch of the white stuff that makes me rejoice. And upon waking this morning and peeking out the window, the sight of porcupine tracks looping around the yard brought a smile to my face.

m-porcupine trail 1

I love the first snow storm for even though I have seen signs of the critters that pass this way, their tracks confirm my convictions. Over the years, I’ve come to recognize the prints and trail patterns, but as the snow gets deeper the tracks sometimes become more difficult to decipher. This one was easy due to its pigeon-toed sashay.

m-porcupine prints

And then the individual prints, especially those that crossed the deck, showed the large foot pad and five toes with nails extended. A friend in Poland, Maine, sent me a couple of photos of the critter that crossed her deck this morning. She ID it herself, but wanted confirmation–for it was an opossum and a first for her.  I found my first opossum prints last December and wonder if I’ll have that opportunity again. Anything is possum-able.

m-worm and junco prints

Since the porcupine had drawn me out (and I noted that it disappeared under the barn–of course), I decided to head off into the woods. But before I left the yard, I spotted junco tracks–and . . .

m-worm

a couple of worms–frozen upon the snow. Juncos don’t eat worms; they look for fallen seeds. And so it seemed that the bird flew off before quite reaching the C-shaped worm. And this other worm was about a foot away from the first worm. Robins were in the yard last week, and I can only hope that they returned today for a frozen dinner awaited.

m-snow art 2

Into the woods I trudged, and the ever-changing colors and designs at my feet reminded me of works of art.

m-snow art 1

Some were palettes of mahoganies juxtaposed against white. A variety of textures gave the scene relief, much like an inlaid mosaic.

m-snow art intersections

Others embodied interconnections; a mingling of lines outlined for emphasis.

m-rock people

Along the cow path, I noticed the rock people for the first time, their mouths gaping open.

m-snow fleas

The minute snow fleas would hardly sustain them.

m-morning light

As it does, my trail crossed the line, where power seemed to originate with its source . . . the sun.

m-Mount Washington

And in the opposite direction, it flowed from pole to pole and onward . . . as if powering the mighty mountain.

m-pine sapling

My journey continued into the land of the pines and their saplings, momentarily coated with decorative baubles.

m-mini oaks

And the red oak saplings I’ve been watching looked more festive than ever.

m-squirrel tracks

I was on a mission and soon found what I was looking for. Some tracks that looked like exclamation points led me to another source of sustenance that I wanted to check on.

m-squirrel cache growing

The red squirrel’s cache had grown taller in the past week, but . . .

m-squirrel dining room

many pine seeds had been consumed in the refectory. All that remained were scales and cobs to show a number of dinners consumed.

m-squirrel rocks

The dining hall extended beyond the reaches of the cache, for every table available was a table used.

m-squirrel dinner in the future

As I walked back toward home, I discovered another table awaiting a guest.

m-beech sunshine

I was almost home when I stood under a beech tree. As winter embraces me, I find that their marcescent leaves create their own golden glow and warm my soul.

m-British soldier

One more sweet peek offered a tiny touch of red to today’s fading winterscape–for the British soldier lichens’ red caps announced their minute presence.

m-snow drops

And then this afternoon, I joined a few friends for a gallivant across the Wild Willy Wilderness Trail beside Province Brook in South Chatham, New Hampshire. And the snowdrops created their own works of art announcing that the meltdown was on.

m-pinwheel 1

As we walked, we noticed delicate parasol-shaped fungi fruiting.

m-pinwheel gills

Their common name is Pinwheel Marasius, but in my mind the shape of the umbrella-like top above the wiry stem looked like a parasol and so I called it such. But to add to the confusion, I first called it carousel. Word association might get me there eventually, but it wasn’t until I looked it up in Lawrence Millman’s Fascinating Fungi of New England, that I realized my confusion. One of the fun facts from Millman is worth quoting: “Resurrection! Shriveled and inconspicuous, Marasmius species are rarely noticed during dry weather, but after rainy periods the tiny fungi revive–hence the nickname ‘resurrection fungi.'” And if not rain, then snow will make them rise again!

m-liverwort magic 1

The water from the melting snow highlighted other lifeforms along the Wild Willy Wilderness Trail. Bazzania liverwort grew abundantly, but one in particular gave us pause . . .  for it glowed. And no matter what position we stood in to look at this worm-like beauty, it continued to glow as if it had a golden halo surrounding it. We had no answers–only questions and wonder.

m-glue fungi

Another find that had been marked with tape, for it too was special–a broken branch attached to a young tree. I’m stepping out on a limb here–pun intended, but I believe this was an example of a glue crust fungus that glues twigs together. Seriously? Yes.

m-Bob, Janet and Pam

It was getting dark when we finally found our way to Province Brook and marveled at the water and ice forms. It was also getting close to the moment when we’d need to say, “See you later,” to Bob and Pam, for they’ll be heading to warmer climes soon. But we know they’ll be back for a winter adventure and then before we know it, spring will be here. And then, we hope the brook will be full with spring run-off from all the snow that is in our future. Until then, see you later we also said to much of the snow for it had almost disappeared.

m-ice works 1

But the ice art will continue to grow.

m-Province Brook 1

And the snow white magic will capture our minds again . . . one flake at a time. And with it, the wonders of the world will continue to be revealed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday School

After church this morning, I stepped out the door, passed through openings in a couple  of stonewalls and then down the cowpath, crossed the power line, and ventured into my smiling place. It had been more than several months since I’d pushed the hemlocks aside to enter for it’s a wetland and woodland filled with growth that can make it difficult to meander through without snowshoes. But before winter arrives, I wanted to take a peek and learn what I could along the way.

o-oak saplings

My lessons started early as I noted a couple of red oak saplings growing in the hollow of an old tree stump, their color reminiscent of the Christmas season. Last year’s mast crop (and another for some oak trees this year) meant a plentiful supply of food for weevils, little brown things, squirrels, turkeys and deer. And yet, not all were consumed and so they sprouted. Now my plan will be to wait and watch–and wonder which of this array actually will win the race to adulthood.

o-huge squirrel cache 1

A little bit further into the woods, I spied a huge cache of white pine cones. This made my heart sing, for I love to keep on eye on big caches such as this and watch as they get whittled down over the course of the winter.

o-pine cones up close

While I stood there admiring the work of the red squirrel who’d filled its larder presumably when the cones were green (and by the way, these cones are two years old, for it takes two years for them to mature atop the pine trees), I thought about the sap that coats them in white. Though the sap is drier now, does it get stuck to their feet. I know that when I come in from a walk through a pine forest, I have sap on my soles, and attached to that may be pine needles or dried leaves. Is it the same for a squirrel? If so, does it wear off like that on my boots? It must because I’ve never seen it on their feet.

o-pine on the cob 1

And what about as they work on their pine-on-the-cobs? Does the sap on the scales come off on  their lips or teeth–much like when we eat something sticky and gooey like peanut butter?

o-pine seeds

It’s a lot of work to get to the two tiny seeds tucked within each scale. They look to be about an inch long, but most of that is the wing (think maple samara). When the weather is warm and dry, pine cone scales open to release the seeds. The squirrel who’d hoarded the stash, had plucked the cones when they were still green and atop the tree–dropping them to the forest floor before they opened so he’d have plenty to eat. And then he had to gather all that he’d dropped into the piles. And now I can’t wait for the coming months–to watch the pile dwindle and middens grow; to see the tunnels he makes in the snow; and just maybe to sit quietly nearby and watch him in action. He was a bit peeved that I was poking about today and let me know with so many chirrs from a branch nearby.

o-porky den?

I finally moved on and saw an uprooted tree I’ve visited on previous occasions. Last year I followed porcupine tracks to this very spot and spied porky within. But when I checked on later occasions, it didn’t seem as if he’d returned. Today, I peeked in and saw water. Even though it looked like a grand home to me, I’m learning that porky knows best.

o-walking in a hemlock grove

At times, I moved quietly upon the duff under the hemlock trees. Frequently, I stopped to listen and look.

o-cinnamon fern leaves1

And then in an opening, I was again in the wet zone where the cinnamon ferns grew abundantly. In curled formation, their leaves added interest to the landscape and a bit of a crunch to my footsteps.

o-cinnamon fern 2

And piled as they were surrounding each plant, I thought back to the pinecone cache. This was food of a different kind, for those leaves will decompose over the winter and nourish the earth.

o-snowberry 1

Continuing on, I came to one of my favorite spots–where the creeping snowberry grew. I hunted under the tiny leaves for the little white berries, but found none. And I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen them, especially in this place, for I suppose that I miss all the action since snow melt always seems to call a halt to such visitations and then I never make my way deep into these woods all summer. I have to assume that the little brown things and birds had a feast. Although, as any teacher knows, one should never assume. Perhaps next year, I’ll make a point of checking on these plants.

o-birch tree in offing

My tramp was a meander, for I knew not what direction each footstep might take me, changing my mind constantly and trusting that if I turned left or right, I wasn’t missing something in the opposite direction. The sight of a beech tree, its leaves ever rattling, did mean that I’d have a chance to move to drier land for a few minutes.

o-equisetum

And then I stepped up onto a rock, where the growth at my feet surprised me for I didn’t realize that equisetum grew in this part of the woods. Always something new to learn.

o-tamarack branch 1

That wasn’t all. As I looked around, a branch with yellow needles by my foot caught my attention.

o-tamarack branch 2

This was the twig of a tamarack tree, with its needles growing in tufts atop little spurs. Had we met before, the tree and me? If so, I couldn’t remember it. Nor could I find it.

o-evergreen hallway

Before me was a wall of evergreens, in a classroom all of their own, for really, these are among my favorite places where learning opportunities present themselves. But, today’s lesson wasn’t about the hemlock, white pine, fir and spruce idiosyncrasies.

o-tamarack tree

And so I scanned the sky, and about twenty-thirty feet away, I found the tree. A tamarack or larch or hackmatack tree, aka Larix laricina, is our only deciduous conifer because unlike all the evergreens, it sheds its needles each fall.

o-moose scat

A few minutes later, I heard movement, and looked up to see . . . no, not the moose that made this deposit last winter, but two flashes of white as a couple of deer bounded off. I think that’s one of my favorite lessons of these woods, for the landscape changes repeatedly and thus offers a variety of habitats for the mammals of western Maine. This is the place where I get to learn the most about them and their behaviors.

o-deer rub 1

Sometimes I’m rewarded with spying the mammal from a distance, but other times I find evidence of its behavior, like this antler rub with frayed bark at top and bottom and smooth wood between.

o-varied habitat 1

I’ve watched the forest succession in these woods for twenty-five years,

o-varied habitat 6

and it’s been logged again more recently.

o-varied habitat 4

With each change, comes more change. And so the mammals move from one spot to another, but they’re still all here–somewhere.

o-varied habitat

I just need to listen and look.

o-turkey tail fungi

It’s not just the mammals and trees that I get to learn about. My studies include among other topics, fungi, of which I’m only a so-so student. But I do know that this is turkey tail, aka Trametes versicolor.

o-Fomitopsis cajanderi  (Rosy Polypore) 2

And then I happened upon a hemlock stump topped with a large, beautiful display outlined in a coffee brown and salmon pink. It took me some work to remember its name. I can tell you where else I’ve seen it for it grows upon a hemlock log at Holt Pond.

o-unknown mushroom 1

Before I forget again, it’s a rosy polypore, if memory serves me right. I only hope my fungi teachers weigh in on this one.

o-logging road 1

At long last, it was time to follow a logging road back to the snowmobile trail.

o-snowberry on sphagnum

Sometimes, I slip back into the woods before reaching the trail, but today I chose to follow it. And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but more creeping snowberry atop sphagnum moss.

o-home sweet home

As I finally crossed the field toward home, I gave thanks for the classroom that is right outside our back door and for the lessons learned in this Sunday School. Now I just have to remember everything, which is why I record so much.

 

 

Autumn Falls With A Smile

It seemed only yesterday the colors were rather on the dull side, not quite offering that magical tapestry we all relish. And then today dawned with a the mix of sun and clouds and occasional raindrops and a breeze and somehow the world transformed.

hp3-Holt Pond1

And I had the good fortune to take it all in at Holt Pond Preserve, where I traveled the trail with two friends. The leaves had gone on strike from their food producing summer job and we rejoiced in the result as they prepared for the dormant season that is on the horizon.

hp1-quaking bog 1

Gold, orange, topaz, crimson, salmon, ruby, gold green, yellow green, gold brown, green brown, gray, white . . .

hp2-swamp maples

even a hint of blue; it was as if we stood in nature’s paint store.

hp4-tire alley

As always when I look at paint chips, I had a difficult time deciding which color to choose.

hp6-tree tops

Stick with a deep red?

hp9-more skyward views

Lean more toward the greens and yellows with a hint of orange and red?

hp7-leaves in brook

Or go with a mosaic–intermixing all that was available?

hp11-button bush

And what about the decorative accents?

hp10-sensitive fern fertile frond

Again, I couldn’t decide . . .

hp13-fireweed

which was my favorite.

hp12-following friends old and new

Nor could my companions, JoAnne and Jen, and so we slowly moved about, filling our hearts and souls with the memory of it all by painting the scene in our minds.

hp17-Grist Mill Road

And smiling at the offerings.

“Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.” ~ William Cullen Bryant

A Circle Completed

The day began with a reconnaissance mission to the Kezar Outlet Fen and a check on the cranberry crop. One of the most delightful ways to spend an early October morning is foraging for those little red balls of tartness and while my guy may have blue greed in his  need to pick every blueberry in sight, my greed turns red this time of year.

f2-winterberries

Of course, on the way to the fen, other red berries showed their shiny faces–and we rejoiced in their presence as well. Winterberries were they.

f4-cranberries 1

But it was those little gems that grew closer to the ground that caught our attention on this morning’s Greater Lovell Land Trust docent tramp. And like those who have come before, we each claimed a spot and made sure not to trespass in our quest to fill our bags with such redness.

f6-cranberries

It didn’t take long. And really, there is no better way to spend the morning . . .

f3-kettle hole

for this is a place to share the joy of foraging, the beauty of place, and the conversation of friendships.

m1-abandoned lodge 1

And then one friend and I returned to the beaver quest I’ve been pursuing for the past two weeks. It was another reconnaissance mission intended to find some new activity. Today, we traveled a different trail and visited an old lodge–again several years abandoned.

m3-anthill

Though no one was home at the stick lodge, we did find a few inhabitants of a nearby sand lodge, aka ant hill. And Forester Dave, with whom I was traveling, pointed out that the sweet and bracken ferns circled the spot, but didn’t grow within at least a foot of the hill. His theory is that the ants chemically affect the ferns. That was new to me and one to observe in other places.

m4-side lodge

We continued on our way and eventually came to another beaver pond that seemed equally abandoned. The lodge was built along a side bank, but no new construction had taken place recently. Nor was there a display of food gathering in preparation for winter.

m5-watercress

But . . . we found a food source of a different kind in the form of watercress.

m8-green frog

We also watched a number of green frogs leap into the leaf-strewn water to hide–and yet slowly float to the surface in an ever curious way.

m9-hornbeam hop

And we saw numerous “hop” balloons, those little slightly inflated cases of hop hornbeam fruits that protect the seeds–many of which flowed in the water. So where was the source?

m10-hornbeam bark

We scanned the forest and finally found the shaggy barked tree beside the water.

m11-bobcat print

After that, some bushwhacking found us passing through a muddy zone–and prime tracking location. Deer, raccoons, coyotes and bobcats had previously walked where we stepped. Do you see the C for cat in this print?

m13-dam3

At last we reached our intended destination, only to realize that the beavers still eluded us. We were sure that since all other areas had been abandoned, this one would be active.

m14-beaver pond of yore

We were wrong. The only activity seemed to be leaves clustering on the water’s surface.

m16-raccoon prints

And so we backtracked and made our way down to another beaver pond, deciding  that we’d travel in the opposite direction of the raccoons and follow the stream downhill. From the top of the land to the lower portion, we encountered four or five well built dams, all still intact, yet the water levels were much lower than we would have noted if the ponds had active beavers. To say we were disappointed would be an understatement.

m17-bobcat scat?

We did, however, find a great scat specimen. We debated bobcat and coyote–sectioned as it was had us leaning toward bobcat, but there were some large bone pieces that suggested coyote. Either way–we knew both had passed through.

m18-spring peeper

And we found a spring peeper and chatted about their callings in autumn weather that reflects their mating season–the fall echo season.

m20-brook view

A little more bush and whack and at last we reached the brook below.

m21-single leaf

As we stood in companionable silence, a single leaf floated past.

m24-balsam seedling

When it was time to turn away, we continued on, reveling in sights missed on previous missions, including a balsam sapling growing on a fern-covered stump.

m25-fresh beaver works!

And then, and then, much to our surprise, we encountered fresh beaver works where only three days ago there had been none. In at least three locations, we discovered that tree roots had been gnawed upon. It was a subtle sign–but a positive sign.

m26-smaller lodge

The lodges, which number at least three in this particular beaver pond that keeps pulling me back, still don’t look like they’ve been attended to. And there are no winter food platforms yet, but apparently they have time and don’t need to button down the hatches yet.

m28-brook

Happy in the knowledge that we’d found the beavers, though we never saw them, we decided to continue to follow the stream to a trail that abuts the property boundary.

m27-black ash

And being a forester, Dave quizzed me on a tree or two. This one I got wrong by its bark because it doesn’t exactly look like its white and green siblings, but knew by its leaf–black ash with no petioles on the leaflets.

m29-foam reflecting bark

About three hours later, we left the beaver community behind–our circle completed, figuratively and literally. Even the brook appeared to know, its froth circled in reflection of the log above.

 

 

 

 

 

Anybody Home?

Only a few days ago we felt like we were melting as we complained about the muggies and buggies, but those temperatures are now only memories and it’s beginning to feel like fall in western Maine. And so my guy and I bundled up before we followed a trail and did some bushwhacking this morning, exploring a property Jinnie Mae and I had visited only a week and a half ago.

m1-lodge

It was to the beaver lodge that we first made our way, noting all their old works near the water’s edge.

m2-lodge 2

But, we were disappointed that we saw no evidence of new work and it didn’t appear any winter prep was yet occurring. Were the beavers still about? Or had some parasites in the lodge forced them to move on?

m3-infinity pool1

We hoped not for they’ve worked hard in the past to create a home with an infinity pool that would be the envy of many.

m1a--otter scat

We did note that they’d had recent visitors who left behind a calling card in the form of a slide and scat–otter scat, that is.

m5-doll's eye

And we spied the fruits of a former flower that graced their neighborhood–doll’s eye, aka white baneberry.

m4-dam 1

As we circled around the pool, we commented that the dam seemed to be in excellent shape and held the water about five feet above the stream below. But again, no evidence of new wood.

m7-dam works

Despite that, it’s an impressive structure. While some landowners might be upset to have beavers changing the landscape, we happen to know this one and she takes great pride in their works.

m9-dam 2

We stood for a while, indulging in our own admiration while wondering where the beavers might be. Of course, it was close to lunch time for us, and not an active time for them if indeed they were home. Possibly we were misinterpreting the view.

m8-beaver pond

After some time of quiet reflection, we made our way back, crossing the stream just below the dam.

m13-quiet reflection

And then we continued along the old logging road (recently bush hogged, eh Brian? Well done), and bushwhacked some more, crossing another stream to find our way to another reflective spot along the brook.

m12-rookery 2

This time, our destination was that of another stick builder–great blue herons.

m11-rookery

Their spring/early summer nests are equally impressive. I hadn’t visited this spot since April, when the herons were actively setting up home. And I’m not sure it was a successful breeding season for them, but even if it was, they wouldn’t have needed these homes today. The nests will remain–available for grabs next year by those who return.

m16-jack in the pulpit

After a snack by the brook, we pulled ourselves away knowing it was time to head to our own home. Our wildlife viewings had been nil, but we spied a jack-in-the-pulpit in fruit, and that plus the doll’s eye were enough. And the time spent wondering about the critters.

m20-cosmos

Back at our truck, we decided to check on the insect action in the gardens at our friend’s home. Only the bumblebees seemed to be active.

m19-hickory feast

But we saw plenty of activity of another kind–a cache of hickory nut shells at the base of the tree, and really . . . everywhere nearby.

m18-hickory bark

Shagbark hickory is more common south of this spot, so it was a treat to take a closer look.

m17-hickory

Its alternate leaves are compound, consisting of five serrated leaflets usually (sometimes there are seven).

m18-hickory 2

And of those five, the three terminal leaflets on each twig are the largest.

m21-view of Balds

Once again, it was time to leave this beautiful spot where the fields and forest flow into the mountains. And where the beavers and heron share the place without too much human intervention. Though not a soul was home today, we trust all will return when the time is right.