Tree Bark

Forever a Student

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

Once the rain let up, I donned my Boggs and headed out the door in mid-afternoon, not sure where exactly I was headed. But after reaching the snowmobile trail, I decided to turn south. Since the spring, I’ve been to the vernal pool on the neighboring property numerous times, but not much beyond in that direction.

h-new-bridge

Part of the reason was that a local industry, of which we now have so few, was constructing a new building and had cut off the trail. Oh, I could have bushwhacked around the project, but the other part of the reason is that it’s a heavy tick zone and I normally avoid it come warmer weather. Given the new building, I wasn’t sure what to expect today, but as I passed through the stonewall, I discovered they’d added a bridge over a new water diversion and the trail was open. I’m glad for the small industry, but simultaneously sad that the willows are gone. No more pussy willows in the spring. Or willow galls, though I suppose that’s good news. And who knows, perhaps some viable willow seeds will spring forth in this place–a hypothesis to be tested.

h-artist-conk-top

After crossing behind the building, I moved through an opening in the next stone wall, and felt right at home again–in one of my local classrooms. This is one where I’m often the solo student, as was the case today.

h-artist-conk-2

I revisited an old stump, where art class was about to begin. The underside of the artist’s conk welcomed a sketch, but I left the canvas blank for another day.

h-gate

In social studies class, I took a look at former land uses. The wall opening and split stone gate bars helped me envision the fields that once were cleared. I followed several walls, which switched from single to double and even double-double, or so it seemed as one section was at least six feet wide and a football field long (The New England Patriots are winning in CA right now!). Barbed wire indicated the need to keep animals out and flat land with trees not a hundred years old spoke to the land’s former plowed use.

h-vp

A few minutes later, I moved over an old rock mound and stood before my science teacher–another vernal pool. As I recalled, this one dries out early in the season and grasses and other vegetation grow prolifically here. But unlike the smaller pool closer to home, this one held some water from the recent rain.

h-boots

As any student should, I stepped through the door and sunk my feet into class.

h-cinnamon-fern

Cinnamon ferns reminded me that they keep their fuzziness right up to the end.

h-birdnest-1

I wondered about strips of paper birch dangling from a young sapling and then realized I was looking at the remains of a nest–maybe a vireo.

h-seeds

I questioned how the long-beaked sedge seedheads came to be bent over–by weather or wildlife or just because their time had come?

h-vp-bulrush-a-grass

While bulrushes (actually a grass) offered flowing fountains pouring into the future, their seeds still clung–as did a spider web.

h-vp-steeplebush-web

And more spiders eluded me, though their webs stood strong among the steeplebush capsules.

h-vp-crystal-ballseeds

A few raindrops dangled like ornaments from a holiday decoration.

h-vp-backside-of-sensitive-fern-beads

And bead-like spore structures on sensitive fern’s fertile stalk waited for another day to spread their good news.

h-lichen-or-fungus-2

I finally left the vernal pool, but before heading back down the hallway, small salmon-colored growths stopped me. Lichen? Fungi? I didn’t think I’d ever seen it before and so it was a new lesson.

h-lichen-or-fungus

My first thought–lichen. In a way, it resembled the tops of British Soldiers that grow prolifically here. But my latest thought is red tree brain fungi (Peniophora rufa) . I may be wrong, but that’s what being a student is all about.

h-woodpecker-1

With each new lesson, I was also thankful for those that were reinforced, such as the chisel-like and shredded works of pileated woodpeckers. I used to think such trees were the result of bear activity.

h-woodpecker-2

I’m always awed by the resulting sculpture left behind by those powerful birds–their strong beaks stabbing away at the bark until they’ve consumed a meal of carpenter ants and beetles. Thankfully, their skulls are thick and spongy–allowing their brains to absorb the impact of such repeated drilling.

h-field-succession-layers

At a field, I paused to admire the layers–a testament to field succession. These woods are constantly changing.

h-male-turkey-scat-j

One thing that doesn’t change is the signature of a Tom Turkey–usually offered in straight or J formation.

h-slime-3

h-tubifera-ferruginosa

h-slime-2

At another wetland, I poked around and then my eye focused in on something decorating a fallen tree. A slime mold perhaps? Red raspberry slime? In one rendition it seemed to have a crater-like surface, while another was more flower-like with petals spraying from a center.

h-hemlock-cinnamon

At last I entered a hemlock forest where the cinnamon inner bark stood out on the wet trees. If not for the scales, I realized it would be easy to confuse this bark with that of red oak, but a quick look up the trunk and the answer was obvious.

h-striped-maple-seeds

As I walked back toward home, I looked along parts of the trail I’d skipped while exploring in the woods. And I wasn’t disappointed when I discovered one of the few striped maple trees–still bearing the seeds it produced last year. Why did they cling still? When released, will they be viable?

h-pine-suds

And then, a sight I was hoping for presented itself when I returned to our woodlot. Froth at the base of a pine tree. It’s not unusual and occurs following a rain event such as we’d had all night and morning. I had hoped to see some foam today, and felt rewarded for my efforts. So what causes the tree to froth? Well, like all lessons, there are several possibilities. Maine Master Naturalist Science Advisor Fred Cichocki recently had this to say about it: “I’ve noticed this phenomenon often, and in every case I’ve seen it’s associated with white pine, and always after a dry spell followed by heavy rain. Now, conifers, especially, produce hydrocarbons called terpenes (it’s what gives them their lovely pine, balsam and fir scent). These hydrocarbons are hydrophobic by nature and form immiscible films on water. During a heavy rain, water running down the trunk of a white pine picks up terpenes on the way. Air (having accumulated in bark spaces, channels, etc. perhaps under slight pressure) then “bubbles” through terpene-water films producing a froth. Recall the cleaning products PineSol, and the like. They are made from terpenes, and produce copious bubbles when shaken. One could get the same result directly by shaking terpentine in water, or by bubbling air through a terpentine-water mixture with a straw  . . .  Of course, it may be that other substances (salts, etc.) enhance the frothing.”

No matter how much I have learned on this life-long course, there’s always more. I certainly don’t have all the answers and for that I am thankful. I’m forever a student.

 

 

 

 

Orange You Glad For Ky Mondate

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

With a recommendation from Marita, my guy and I hiked a trail new to us today and fell in love with it. But as much as we enjoyed the lay of the land and physical activity of climbing uphill and down, we also enjoyed searching for shades of orange on this last day of October.

o-sanborn-river-1

Beside Sanborn River we traversed at first, frequently pausing to admire the flow of the water over the rock formations and noting hints of orange in the display before us.

o-big-tooth-2

And then we began to see it everywhere, beginning with the big-tooth aspen leaves,

o-sugar-maple-leaf

sugar maples,

o-oak-leaves-1

and northern red oaks–down low . . .

o-oak-above

and up high.

o-red-oak-bark

We found an orangey display in red oak bark and . . .

o-burl

even among an old burl on a birch tree.

o-gas-can

Not all was formed by nature, though then again, nature played a part.

o-orange-ribbon

And sometimes it was easy to spot.

o-my-guy-trending-blaze-orange

As was my guy.

o-oversett-pond-1

Shades of orange accented Oversett Mountain as we paused beside the pond of the same name.

o-huckleberry-leaves

We noted its beauty on the huckleberry leaves beside the pond, and . . .

o-watery-reflection

in reflective patterns on the water.

o-cliffs-1

It wasn’t just the orange that drew my attention as we circled halfway around, however. The cliff was a wee bit intimidating.

o-beaver-works

Despite that, we continued on and crossed an old beaver dam. The dam may be old, but we noted new beaver works gnawed by those famous orange rodent teeth on the man-made bridge beside it.

o-lunch-rock-1-1

And then we began the climb, which wasn’t so bad after all, given a few switchbacks. At lunch rock, our view was dominated by orange as we munched on PB&J sandwiches.

o-view-from-summit

Shortly after that, we reached the summit, aflame with more of that autumn glow that hints at November.

o-heart

And immediately below, another view of part of Oversett Pond. As the universe would have it, the pond appeared heart shaped. Just perfect for a Mondate with my guy and a day of giving thanks for our young next door neighbor, Kyan, who has been dealing with leukemia and is recovering from a blood marrow transplant–talk about intimidating. He’s going trick-or-treating tonight! Orange you glad for Ky? We certainly are.

Happy Halloween!

 

The Way of the Land at Long Meadow Brook Reserve

~ lmachayes ~ 8 Comments

Last month the Greater Lovell Land Trust purchased a new property along Long Meadow Brook that further develops the wildlife corridor. A couple of weeks ago I first visited it with GLLT’s Executive Director Tom Henderson and a number of the land trust’s volunteer docents. As we left the property, Tom said to me, “I didn’t oversell this, did I, when I said this will become one of the docents’ favorite properties.” Indeed.

And so I couldn’t wait to get back there myself to spend a few hours exploring the almost one-hundred-acre reserve.

l-mullein-flower-2

Because the land was last logged by the previous owner in 2014, it’s in the early succession stage of regrowth.

l-mullein-flower-3

And so, it’s a place where those who like disturbed places tend to grow, such as the common mullein. What surprised me most was that I found a few still offering blooms.

l-mullein-cactus

Of course, it reminded me that I was in the great West–WESTern Maine, that is–with its occasional cacti-like form.

l-seeds-holidng-on

Scattered throughout are also the seedheads of white lettuce, waiting for release in lampshade-like formation.

l-orange-peel-fungi

Orange-peel fungi fruited prolifically in the gravel logging road.

l-future-parking-lot

That was all before I even reached the future parking lot, which had served as the log landing a few years ago. Already, sweet ferns and berry bushes have made themselves known.

l-sweet-fern-colors

The leaves of sweet fern, which is really a shrub rather than a fern, exhibited their version of autumn hues.

l-trail-marker

If you go, I encourage you to look for the blue ribbons that indicate where a future trail will be placed. It’s a loop trail that summer interns Hannah and Aidan laid out and leads to two focal features.

l-stonewall-double-to-single

The trail nears a neighboring property, which just happens to also be under conservation easement thanks to the foresight of its owners. I stepped off the blue flag trail and started to follow the wall for a bit–noticing that soon it changed from a double (garden or plowed land) wall to a single wall. A large pasture pine grew at the change-over point.

l-stonewall-barbed-wire-1

And where the wall switched to single formation, barbed wire indicated its former use a pasture boundary. And white pine scales indicated its current use–as a red squirrel’s dining room table.

l-forest-succession-2

After moving away from the wall, I noticed the mountains in the offing and ferns and young trees already filling in the empty spaces.

l-kearsarge

One of my favorite mountains to climb stood tall in the backdrop–Mount Kearsarge.

l-forest-succession-1

My bearings were off a bit, but I knew where the eastern boundary was as I moved across this opening.

l-pitch-pine-bark-1

Walking along the back edge, my tree passion was ignited yet again.

l-pitch-pine-1

Several pitch pines grow in this space. While the bark is similar to that of red pines, it’s platier (is that a word?). And the tufts of needles that grow along the trunk were a dead give-away.

l-pitch-pine-cone

l-pitchpine-needles

But . . . I always quiz myself and so I looked around. And right below the trees, pitch pine cones and the triple needle bundles common to this species.

l-wintergreen-berries

It was here that I discovered wintergreen growing by the base of a tree stump. What made me wonder was the amount of fruit on each plant. Yes, wintergreen grows prolifically in all of western Maine, but I can’t recall ever seeing so many little red globes dangling below the leaves.

l-marshy-1

From my half-circle around the opening, I wasn’t positive about my whereabouts and so decided to follow the land downhill because it looked like there may be an opening below. A few minutes later, I realized I was in a marshy spot where the cinnamon ferns grew. And the earth beneath my feet was rather spongy and damp.

l-beaver-lodge

I reached what I thought was the meadow I sought–only to realize that I was looking at a beaver lodge. I knew that beaver lodge, but from a different perspective–the neighbors’ property.

l-first-marsh

And then something else caught my attention.

l-marsh-tamaracks

Tamarack (aka larch) trees–our only deciduous conifers, which had turned a golden yellow as is their autumn habit.

l-tamarack-2

The spray of tamarack needles reminded me of witch hazel flowers, which also grow on this property. But soon, the former will drop, leaving only their barrel-like stems as a reminder of their presence.

l-maple-leaf-viburnum

I left that spot, retraced my steps and headed to the north on a cross-country bushwhack, where the mauve colored maple-leaf viburnum grew.

l-turkeys

I saw lots of mammal sign and even a few birds, including turkeys who are loving the fact that this is a mast year for acorns.

l-trail-to-meadow

At last I emerged onto the trail I remembered and headed downhill again.

l-meadow-brook-2

And then . . . I was rewarded for my efforts. Long Meadow Brook and the mountains beyond provided a WOW moment.

l-meadow-east

I looked to the east for a few minutes.

l-meadow-layers

And then turned west again, where the layers and colors spoke of diversity.

l-meadow-snags

Even the dead snags added beauty.

l-cat-n-nine-tails

Cat-in-nine tails added to the view and I noted others who like wet feet including steeplebush, meadowsweet and bulrushes growing along the old beaver dam. It’s also a place for a variety of evergreen species–hemlock, white pine, balsam fir, red spruce and tamaracks. Future teaching moments await.

l-hobble-2

My intention to stick to the trail was soon thwarted when I spied hobblebush.

l-hobble-bud1

Like all trees and shrubs, the future was already encased in a bud–in this case a bud we refer to as naked because it doesn’t have the waxy coating of most others. Methinks its furry presentation offers the same protection from winter’s cold.

l-back-of-hobblebush-leaf

And as I studied the back side of fallen leaves, I paid attention to the venation–reminiscent of the bud’s pattern.

l-hobble-leaves-2

In the glow of sunlight, I felt like I’d found the pot of gold.

l-meadowhawk-2

A short time later I reached the second opening that Hannah and Aidan’s trail encompasses. And what to my wondering eyes should appear–a meadowhawk dragonfly.

l-snow-on-balds-1

It provided a sharp contrast to snow on the Baldface Mountains.

l-secod-opening-2

It was at this six-acre opening that I poked around for a while longer. And watched a goshawk fly to a pine tree with something dangling from its talons. Did I take a photo? No, of course not. I was too mesmerized to focus my camera. But sometimes, the photo doesn’t matter. Being there in the moment does.

I’m thankful for such opportunities made possible by organizations such as the Greater Lovell Land Trust. I know that ultimately this property is for the mammals that travel through and I saw plenty of evidence that they use this place. But then again, I’m a mammal who also appreciates the land bridges created and opportunity to observe the connectivity. I spent the day getting to know the way of the land at Long Meadow Brook Reserve–and can’t wait to return.

 

 

 

 

Finding Our Way on Mount Tom in Fryeburg, Maine

~ lmachayes

I ventured this afternoon with my friend Marita, author of  Hikes and Woodland Walks in and around Maine’s LAKES REGION, along with her daughter’s beagle, Gracie, on a new trail in Fryeburg.

t-preserve-sign

Mount Tom, a Roche Moutonnée, is an asymmetrical hill with a gently sloping up-ice side that has been smoothed and polished by a glacier. The other side is abrupt and steep–the down-ice side where the rocks were plucked off, leaving a more cliff-like appearance. As Marita noted, its most impressive view is from a distance, but today we sang its praises from up close. We’ve both hiked a 1.5 mile trail to the summit for years, but recently The Nature Conservancy developed a new trail that we were eager to explore.

t-fdn-1

Within seconds I was exclaiming with joy. A huge, and I mean HUGE foundation shared the forest floor. Note the outer staircase to the basement.

t-center-chimney

And the large center chimney.

t-fryeburg-1858-map

On an 1858 map, I found that A.H. Evans owned a home in about this vicinity, but I don’t know if this was his. Or any more about him. It will be worth exploring further at the Fryeburg Historical Society.

t-house-connected-to-barn

The house extended beyond the basement.

t-barn-1

And was attached to an even bigger barn.

t-barn-2

Ash trees grow beside the opening, but I wondered if we were looking at the manure basement.

t-trail-blaze

Finally, we pulled ourselves away and returned to the trail. Well, actually, we tried to return to the trail but couldn’t find it. So we backtracked, found this initial blaze and again looked for the next one. Nothing. Nada. No go. How could it be?

t-marita-and-gracie

That didn’t seem right, so we decided to follow our noses, or rather Gracie’s nose, and sure enough we found the trail. If you go, turn left and cross between the house and barn foundations.

t-gracie

After that, for the most part, we were able to locate the trail, but it was obscured by the newly fallen leaves and could use a few extra blazes. Gracie, however, did an excellent job following the scent of those who had gone before and leaving her own.

t-saw-dust

The path took us over a large mound of sawdust, something I’ve found in several areas of Fryeburg.

t-color

The predominate trees were beech, white and red oaks, thus providing a golden glow to the landscape.

t-ledges-1

And then we came to the ledges. Bobcat territory. Note to self: snowshoe this way to examine mammal tracks.

t-ledge-island

The trail was situated to provide a close up view of the ledge island, where all manner of life has existed for longer than my brain could comprehend. Life on a rock was certainly epitomized here.

t-intersection

We continued our upward journey for over 2.3 miles (thanks to Marita’s Fitbit for that info) and eventually came to the intersection with the trail we both knew so well.

t-summit-sign

From there, we walked to the summit where the views have become obscured by tree growth.

t-pleasant-mtn-from-summit

But . . . we could see the long ridge of Pleasant Mountain in front of us,

t-kezar-pond

Kezar Pond to our left,

t-richardson-1

t-richardson-farm

and the Richardson Farm on Stanley Hill Road to our right.

t-ladys-slipper-pod

Also along the summit trail, the woody seedpod of a Lady’s Slipper. Ten-to-twenty thousand seeds were packaged within, awaiting wind dispersal.

t-mt-tom-house

We decided to follow the old trail down, which passes through a hemlock grove and then suddenly changes to a hardwood mix. Both of us were surprised at how quickly we descended. And suddenly, we were walking past some private properties including the 1883 Mt. Tom cabin.

t-northern-white-cedar-bark

t-northern-white-cedar

The cabin sign was actually attached to a Northern White Cedar tree. I’m forever wowed by its bark and scaly leaves.

t-flag

In the field beyond, Old Glory fluttered in the breeze.

t-barn

And just before Menotomy Road, we spied Mount Kearsarge in the distance.

t-menontomy-cemetery

Since we’d taken the loop trail approach rather than an out and back on the same trail, we had to walk along Menotomy Road, so we paid the cemetery a visit and checked out the names and ages of those who had lived in this neighborhood.

t-pine-on-grave-stone

One of the older stones intrigued me with its illustration. I think I would have enjoyed getting to know these people.

t-menotomy-pumpkins

As we continued on, I was reminded of recent adventures in Ireland  and the realization that we notice more when we walk along the road rather than merely driving by. We both admired this simple yet artful pumpkin display.

t-menotomy-road-1

If you go, you might want to drive to the old trailhead, park your vehicle and then walk back to the West Ridge Trail. We parked at the latter and had to walk the 1.5 back at the end, when it seemed even longer. But truly, the road offers its own pretty sights and the temperature was certainly just right, even with a few snow flurries thrown into the mix, so we didn’t mind. We were thankful we’d found our way along the new trail and revisited the old at Mount Tom. And I’m already eager to do it again.

 

 

 

 

Everybody Loves Raymond? Mondate

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

My guy and I were up for an adventure this morning as we headed off to a property recently acquired by Loon Echo Land Trust. I’d been there once before, but at that time there was no trail system and I certainly hadn’t climbed to the summit.

r-forest-climb

We were on a 356-acre property bisected by a paved road. First, we hiked the upper section, passing through a hardwood forest.

r-white-oak-green-leaves

Immediately, I realized we were in the presence of one of my favorites–noted for the mitten-ish presentation of its leaves. One would have to be all thumbs to fit into this mitten, but still, my heart hums whenever I spy a white oak.

r-white-oak-red-color

Or in this case, many white oaks, some exhibiting the wine color of their fall foliage.

r-white-oak-bark

And the bark–a blocky look that differs greatly . . .

r-red-oak-on-bm1

from the ski trail ridges of red oak.

r-hophornbeam-bark

Hop Hornbeam also grows abundantly in this forest.

r-approaching-forest-summit-yellow

As we neared the summit, we noticed that the sky view had a yellowish tone reflected by the ground view. Most trees were of the same age due to past logging efforts, but the predominant species was sugar maple.

r-basswood-2

Another favorite tree also grew abundantly here. I think they are also favorites because I don’t see them as often. In this case, the bark, though furrowed and ridged like a northern red oak, featured an almost combed flattened ridge.

r-basswood-leaf

And its leaves–oh my! Notice the asymmetrical base? And the length–my boot is size 8. American basswood–an important timber tree that is known to share the community with sugar maples and hornbeams–all of which provided that yellow glow.

r-raymond-summit-view-1

At last, we reached the vantage point.

r-skyward

Above us, a mix of colors and species.

r-oak-leaves

Before us, a mix of white and red oak leaves.

r-crescent-view-3-1

And beyond us, the view of Crescent Lake

r-crescent-rattle-1-1

and Rattlesnake Mountain.

r-ladybird-1-1

While we admired the view, ladybird beetles (aka ladybugs) swarmed us. Well, not exactly in swarm formation, but more than is the norm.

r-green-trail-tag

After admiring the view for a while and wondering about the ladybirds, we backtracked a bit and decided to explore the green trail, assuming that it looped about the summit.

r-dry-leaf-sound

The trail conditions changed constantly, and one thing we realized was that the leaves had dried out and we wished we could have bottled their scent along with our crispy footfall as we trudged through–the smells and sounds associated with autumn.

r-bear-claw

Eventually, we entered a beech commune and what to my wondering eyes should appear–bear claw marks? We ventured closer, circled the tree and looked at others in the neighborhood before determining that our eyes had perhaps played a trick on us.

r-garter-snake

That was OK because within seconds a twig moved at our feet.

r-snake-tongue

We watched as its tongue darted in and out, red tipped with a black fork.

r-lunch-rock

Finally, we moved back to what we’d named Ladybird Lookout and found lunch rock where we topped off sandwiches with Bailey’s Irish Cream fudge a la Megan and Becky Colby. Life is good. Life is very good. (And we know a town in western Maine that would benefit greatly from a bakery–just saying, Megan!)

r-trail-ribbon-art

After lunch, we climbed back down and crossed Conesca Road to check out trails on the other side. There is no trail map just yet, but we never got lost. And we appreciated the artwork nature created of manmade marks.

r-forest-across-the-street-stonewall

This space offered a different feel where hardwoods combined with softwoods. And more stonewalls crossed the property, speaking to past uses.

r-hole-pink-flags

It’s here that we noticed an area demarked by pink flags and stopped to wonder why. Note to self–excavated hole and debris mean beware.

r-bee-himve

Upon closer examination, an old hive. So who dug it up? We had our suspicions.

r-mushrooms-1

We also noticed a fungi phenomena.

r-mushroom-growth

Fungi on fungi? Honey mushrooms attacked by something else?

r-mushroom-growth-3

The displays were large

r-mushroom-fungi

and otherworldly. I don’t recall ever seeing this before.

I sent the photos to Parker and Jimmie Veitch, of White Mountain Mushrooms, and Jimmie responded with this explanation:

“That’s what mycologists call “rosecomb” mutation, where a mushroom’s gills start forming on the cap in a really mutated fashion. It’s been reported in many mushroom species but I haven’t seen it in this one (Armillaria AKA honey mushrooms). As far as I know, no secondary fungus is involved.

The suspected cause (not so nice) is ‘hydrocarbons, phenols and other compounds contaminating the casing or contacting the mushroom surface. Diesel oil, exhaust from engines, and petroleum-based pesticides are thought to be the principal source.'”

r-red-leaves

As we concluded our visit, we passed over one more stone wall decorated with red maple leaves.

r-beginning-of-bri-mar

And then we hopped into the truck and traveled a couple of miles south to conquer another small mountain–one visible to us from Ladybird Lookout. (I really think LELT should name it such.)

r-brimar-milkweed

Here the milkweed plants grew abundantly.

r-brimar-white-oaks-in-field

In the field leading to the trail, the property owners planted white oak saplings in hopes of providing food for wildlife. Um, by the same token, they’d enclosed the saplings in plastic sleeves (reminding us of our findings in Ireland) to keep deer at bay.

r-brimar-ferns

The understory differed and ferns offered their own autumn hues.

r-brimar-evergreen-wood-fern

In contrast were the many examples of evergreen wood ferns.

r-bri-mar-beech-markings

We soon realized that quite literate bears frequented this path and announced their presence.

r-crescent-from-bri-1-1

At last, the view opened and we looked back at the opposite shore of Crescent Lake, though realizing that our earlier ascent was masked by the trees.

r-panther-from-bri-3-1

Turning about, Panther Pond came into view.

We’d spent the day embracing Raymond because everybody loves Raymond.

r-raymond-forest-sign

r-brimar-trail-sign

Raymond, Maine, that is. Loon Echo Land Trust is gearing up to celebrate the Raymond Community Forest that we explored this morning and the Bri-Mar Trail up Rattlesnake Mountain has long been traveled by many. In fact, when I used to write copy for the local chamber of commerce, I spent some time learning about Edgar Welch, who was the fastest man on foot and ran up Mount Washington at least once a year. He lived in Raymond and worked for David McLellan, who was partially blind from a Civil War injury. Because Mr. McLellan’s farm was at the foot of Rattlesnake Mountain, the sun would set one hour earlier than elsewhere in town. According to legend, after work each day Edgar ran up the mountain and moved rocks. Finally, he’d moved enough to let the sun shine on the farm for an hour longer. Another story has it that one day a man bet Edgar that he could beat him in a race to Portland. The man would race with his horse and buggy, while Edgar ran. When the opponent pulled into the city, Edgar was waiting for him. I love local lore.

And everybody loves Raymond. Well, my guy and I certainly gained a better appreciation for this town today.

 

 

 

Hiking to the Vanishing Point

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

My friend, Ann, and I spent today focused on points close to us, while those in the distance also drew our attention.

h-trail sign

Our chosen trail to accomplish such, Mt. Willard in Crawford Notch State Park, New Hampshire. We began on the Avalon Trail and then turned onto the Mt. Willard Trail. I kept thinking I’d last travelled this way in the early spring, but now realize it was last November that my guy and I ventured forth on a Top Notch Mondate.

h-paper birch bark

Ann had in her mind that there were several varieties of birch trees along the way. We did marvel at pastel colors revealed by the paper birch.

h-yellow birch bark

And the golden ribbony peeling of the yellow birch. But those were the only two birch species we saw over and over again. It had been a while since she’d last hiked here so the forest had changed.

h-rocky trail (1)

The trail has also changed. Somewhere stuck in my memory (despite the fact that I hiked here ten months ago) is a fairly flat, graveled carriage path. Um . . . I truly think that was the case years ago, but perhaps funding means it’s no longer maintained like it once was and stormwater has washed the trail out.

h-culvert stones (1)

The carriage road was built in 1845 by Thomas Crawford, owner and host of the Notch House in Crawford Notch. Daniel Webster and Henry David Thoreau reportedly slept there. Crawford wanted to provide his guests with an easy excursion to the summit of the mountain. Old culverts and stone diversions still mark the way.

h-hobble leaf and bud 1

One of the most predominant plants from beginning to end is the hobblebush shrub, so named because its horizontal growth pattern trips hikers, causing them to hobble through the woods. This shrub wows us in any season and right now it’s displaying its late summer colors.

h-hobble berries

On a few, we even found some fruit. I especially loved the new buds posed together like praying hands beneath the berries.

h-hobble in row (1)

And leaf displays that led to vanishing points.

h-water funnels

We chuckled to ourselves as others passed by, sweating in their efforts to reach the summit quickly. Our purpose–a slow and steady climb filled with opportunities to notice, like the funnels of water that dripped from rock to rock.

h-centennial pool

One of our favorite stops–Centennial Pool, where water mesmerized us as it cascaded over moss-covered rocks.

h-chipmunk.jpg

And a chipmunk darted about, surprising us with its close proximity–until we looked up and saw a couple with a dog. Perhaps we looked like we’d offer a safe haven.

h-narrow beech fern

We spent a lot of time wallowing in ferns because Ann has developed a keen interest in them this year. One of our fun finds was the narrow or northern beech fern, which portrayed its natural habit of dripping downward. We loved that we could ID this one by beginning with its winged attachment to the rachis or center stem.

h-artist's conk

Fungi also drew our attention. The mountain had been in the clouds as we approached, so it was no wonder that dew drops decorated this artist’s conk.

h-false tinder conk (1)

Among our fungi sightings–a false tinder conk.

h-fairy ring (1)

And among my favorites–a fairy ring.

h-purple aster 2 (1)

Though the flowers were few, we did spy some purple asters.

h-paper art

And then there were sculptures that caught our attention, like this paper birch artwork framed by moss-covered trees.

h-birch art yellow

And a yellow birch offering its own message to the universe.

h-mossy roots

Some tree roots also begged to be noticed. So we did as we acknowledged the resident faeries.

h-carriage road 1.jpg

At last we found my carriage road. Or at least something that slightly resembled it.

h-tunnel light.jpg

And then the tunnel.

h-tunnel 2

And a glimpse of the world beyond.

h-view 2 (1)

Within seconds, without a drum roll, the jaw-dropping view of the Notch enveloped our focus.

h-squirrel 2

As we ate lunch, another human-savvy critter came closer than is the norm–a red squirrel. We think he coveted Ann’s lunch–a peanut butter and blueberry sandwich with whole blueberries. Who wouldn’t?

h-mtn ash display

Mountain summits in these parts often feature Mountain Ash trees. Today, I paid attention to the pattern, including the six finger splay of its leaflet.

h-mtn ash twigs

And I couldn’t resist the contrast of color it offered against the mountain backdrop.

h-mtn ash leaf

Though we didn’t see any Mountain Ash berries, each individual leaf presented its own point of view.

h-Ann (1)

At the beginning of our hike and again at the summit, we kept hearing a helicopter. Mount Washington was obscured by cloud cover, but with her binoculars, Ann observed a helicopter with a litter. It seemed to follow the same route again and again.

IMG_5996

Our hope was that it was practice over mission. We had no idea of the purpose.

h-maple tree? (1)

At last we hiked down. One of the best parts about following the same path is that new stories await–when you can take the time to look up. And our pièce de résistance–an old snag. A beautiful old snag. Notice its vertical lines intersected by horizontal lines. We spent a long time studying and caressing this natural sculpture.

h-Sharp-scaly Pholiota (Pholiota squarrosoides) (1)

Though it appeared to be dead, life reigned.

h-sharp scaly 2 (1)

I know my mentors will correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe this is Pholiota squarrosa, commonly known as the shaggy scalycap, the shaggy Pholiota, or the scaly Pholiota. Whatever you want to call it, it seemed to have its own vanishing point.

h-train tracks (1)

Much the same was true for the train tracks we crossed that head north toward Breton Woods.

h-train tracks south (1)

And those that lead south from Crawford’s Notch.

Thanks to Ann for today’s hike into the vanishing point, a disappearance into the woods for a visual exploration.

Book of September: Forest Trees of Maine

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

The other day a friend and I made plans for an upcoming hike. Before saying goodbye, she said, “Don’t forget to bring your tree book.”

t-cover (1)

Really? I have at least thirty books dedicated to the topic of trees. But . . . I knew exactly which one she meant: Forest Trees of Maine. I LOVE this book–or rather, booklet. You’ll notice the tattered version on the left and newer on the right. Yup, it gets lots of use and often finds its way into my pack. When I was thinking about which book to feature this month, it jumped to the forefront. I actually had to check to see if I’d used it before and was surprised that I hadn’t.

Produced by the Maine Forest Service, the centennial issue published in 2008 was the 14th edition and it’s been reprinted two times since then.

t-b:y 2 (1)

In previous years, the book was presented in a different format. Two editions sit on my bookshelf, and I need to share with you two things that didn’t find their way into the most recent copy.

From 1981: Foreword–“It is a pleasure to present the eleventh edition of Forest Trees of Maine. 

Many changes have occurred in Maine’s forest since 1908, the year the booklet first appeared. Nonetheless, the publication continues to be both popular and useful and thousands have been distributed. Many worn and dog-eared copies have been carried for years by woodsmen, naturalists and other students of Maine’s Great Out-Of-Doors.

We wish the booklet could be made available in much greater quantity, however, budgetary considerations prevent us from doing so. I urge you to use your copy of Forest Trees of Maine with care. If you do, it will give years of service in both field and office.”

Kenneth G. Stratton, Director.

From 1995: One of two poems included. I chose this one because it was one my mother often recited.

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

~Joyce Kilmer

t-how to use keys (1)

The most recent edition of Forest Trees of Maine provides a snapshot of the booklets history and information about the changes in the Maine landscape. For instance, in 1908, 75% of the land was forested, whereas in 2008, 89% was such. The state’s population during that one hundred year period had grown by 580,457. With that, the amount of harvested wood had also grown. And here’s an intriguing tidbit–the cost of the Bangor Daily News was $6/year in 1908 and $180/year in 2008.

Two keys are presented, one for summer when leaves are on the trees and the second for winter, when the important features to note are bark and buds.

t-leaves (1)

t-glossary (1)

Terms for leaf shapes, margins and structure, twig structure, plus needle types and flower types are illustrated and various terms defined.

t-tree parts (1)

There’s even information on how a tree works because they do–for our well-being and for the benefit of wildlife.

t-white pine (1)

And then the descriptive pages begin. Each layout includes photographs, sketches and lots of information, both historical as in the King’s Arrow Pine, and identifiable as in bark, leaves, cones, wood, etc.

t-pines blue book (1)

1981

t-pines yellow book (1)

1995

Though some of the information is the same, it’s fun to note the differences from the two earlier publications.

t-maple key (1)

At the beginning of each family, major descriptions are noted in an easy to follow format.

t-maple (1)

And like the conifers, the broadleaves are portrayed.

Tomorrow, when my friend and I venture off, I’d better remember to pack this booklet. She’s peeked my curiosity about what she wants to ID because I’ve climbed the mountain before and perhaps I missed something. She already has a good eye for trees so I can’t wait to discover what learning she has in mind for us.

This Book of September is for you, Ann Johnson. And it’s available at Bridgton Books or from the forest service: http://www.maineforestservice.gov or forestinfo@maine.gov.

Forest Trees of Maine, Centennial Edition, 2008, published by The Maine Forest Service

 

Tagging Along with Jinny Mae

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

“Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.” ~ Albert Camus

While I sometimes walked beside Jinny Mae this afternoon, I spent more time following her and am still her friend (I think).

A HOT afternoon. Despite the heat, however, I’m always tickled to follow her because she knows her 40-acre property intimately–including all of its nooks and crannies and cool sights.

j-green frog in water

 

We had some rain this morning, but Jinny Mae’s land is naturally wet and well loved by mosses and ferns . . . and green frogs. As we approached, several leaped into this mini pool and then posed.

j-green frog

Others waited patiently–probably hoping we’d move along.

j-polypore

J.M. has a fascination for fungi. Many fruiting bodies, like this gilled polypore, showed their faces as we moved about.

j-gilled polypore

We rolled the log to get a better look at the maze-like underside.

j-false chanterelle

Among our finds–chanterelles (deleted false because fungi expert, Jimmie Veitch informed me that they are true chanterelles. If you want to know more about Maine fungi or to purchase some, visit White Mountain Mushrooms) and . . .

j-coral

a coral fungi. Given today’s humidity, it felt like we were in the Bermuda of the North.

j-fern

Jinny Mae also showed me a fern-like moss that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before: stair-step moss. This moss is particularly fond of the moist coniferous and hardwood forest we tramped through. Its new growth arose from the previous year’s growth–climbing like a staircase.

j-yellow birch and hemlock

Nearby, she pointed to one of her favorite tree displays–a hemlock and yellow birch sharing space. Both have seeds that germinate best on rotting logs or rocks, where moss gathers and provides moisture. In a compatible relationship, they’ve reached for the sky with equal success. I’m reminded of two friends who know the importance of supporting each other–similar to the chitchat and occasional silence Jinny Mae and I share as we bushwhacked.

j-lightning 2

And then she introduced me to Excalibur. Even King Arthur probably couldn’t pull this    sword-like piece of a tree out of the ground–well, maybe he could. But we couldn’t.

j-lightning tree 1

The reason for Excalibur’s existence: a recent lightning strike.

j-lightning 4

We looked around and saw that the energy passed through at least three trees.

j-lightning 5

Bark peeled off.

j-lightning 3

And shredded wood scattered. What surprised us both was that we couldn’t find any burnt wood. Thankfully.

j-beech drops

Making our way back toward her house, we entered a beech forest and began to see beechdrops everywhere we looked.

j-beech drops2

These are parasitic plants that don’t manufacture their own nutrition, thus they depend on the roots of American beech trees for food.

j-coteledon

In this same area, we come across a young beech tree Jinny Mae flagged in the spring when she first observed a cotyledon. We chuckled when we remembered how we both were so taken with cotyledons a few months ago–a new sighting for us. One of those things that was always there, but we’d never noticed it previously. Today, she was filled with pride for this young beech. It’s had a healthy start and in forty years may provide beech nuts for the neighborhood bears. In the meantime, it will probably nourish a few beech drops.

j-Indian pipe .jpg

And then she showed me the final cool find of the day–an Indian pipe with stamens that appear to have split away from the flower. It seems that these friends made the move together–much the same as Jinny Mae and I did today.

I may have tagged along and followed her, but really, we walked side by side and I’m thankful for her friendship.

Book of August: BARK

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

IMG_2913

Book of August

It was my journey through the Maine Master Naturalist class several years ago that lead me to this book of the month: BARK–A Field Guide to Trees of the Northeast by Michael Wojtech.

The book actual evolved from Wojtech’s work, under the tutelage of Tom Wessels, toward a Master’s degree in Conservation Biology at Antioch University New England.

Between the covers you’ll find information about bark structure, types of bark and bark ecology. There is a key for those who are so inclined.

And then the biggest chunk of the book is devoted to photographs and descriptions for each type of tree that grows in our New England and eastern New York State forests. These include the common and Latin names, family, habitat, range maps, leaf and branch pattern, leaf shape and notes.

For me, there are two take away items from this book. First, I learned to categorize bark based on its pattern from smooth to ridges and furrows, vertical strips, curly and peeling to others covered in scales and plates. He breaks bark type into seven varieties that I now find easy to identify.

Second, I came to realize something that I may have known but never gave much thought to–except for  American beech bark, which remains smooth all its life (unless it’s been infected by the beech scale insect), bark differs from young to mature to old for any particular species. Oy vey!

Though this book is useful in the winter, now is the time to start looking. To develop your bark eyes. The leaves are on and will help with ID, thus you can try the key and you’ll know if you’ve reached the correct conclusion or not.

Go ahead. Purchase a copy and give it a whirl. I must warn you, it becomes addictive and can be rather dangerous when you are driving down the road at 50mph. As Wojtech wrote in the preface, “If you want to experience a forest, mingle among its trees. If you want to know the trees, learn their bark.”

While you are at it, I encourage you to visit the small western Maine town of Bridgton, where the Bob Dunning Memorial Bridge leads into Pondicherry Park. Each of the sixteen bridge beams is constructed from a different tree and the bark is still on them. Test yourself and then grab one of my brochures at the kiosk to see if you got it right. If there are no brochures, let me know and I’ll fill the bin.

And while you are there, stop by the independent bookstore, Bridgton Books, to purchase a copy of BARK.

BARK: A Field Guide to Trees of the Northeast by Michael Wojtech, University Press of New England, 2011.

Lonesome Mondate

~ lmachayes ~ 6 Comments

My guy has worked way too many hours in the last few weeks, including this past weekend, so today we ran away. Well, he went for a run early this morning while I dilly dallied around the house. And then we ran away.

plly 1

Our destination was our favorite breakfast place, though we went for lunch today–Polly’s Pancake Parlor in Sugar Hill, New Hampshire. As we walked toward the door, we noticed a family standing outside chatting and laughing. Hello neighbors! Yup, we were almost two hours from home and our neighbors from down the road had just finished breakfast. “We passed you on your run,” they said to my guy–equally surprised to see us there.

Lunch was the combo sampler–three small pancakes with sausage for him and thick, crispy bacon for me, followed by three more pancakes and full bellies. Good thing we only make this a once-a-year habit. I’d planned to only order the plain batter with blueberries because of all the choices that’s my favorite, but I have to say that the gingerbread and chocolate chip was also yummy.

ph-lupine fest 1 (1)

And then we moved on to the lupine fields. Actually, lupines bless the fields throughout town, but the Sugar Hill Sampler Lupine Fields feature trails with poetry along the way.

lupine sign

Such simple words of wisdom ring true

lupine 7

amid the beauty.

ph-lupines 4 (1)

The actual lupine festival occurred two weeks ago,

ph-lupines 2 (1)

but our timing wasn’t so off.

lupine 10

Color and structure wrote their own verses.

ph-tree1

A few more miles down the road, we started up a trail that appeared relatively flat in the land of giant yellow birch trees.

xylophone1

One of the brook crossings danced to the beat of its own song

xylo 2

interpreted by my guy who channeled his inner Tom Hanks as he moved across the xylophone to the beat of  “Heart and Soul” featured in the 1988 movie “Big.” So be it.

maple 2

A few months ago when I presented a workshop on tree bark, a colleague asked me about mountain maple, which I didn’t know existed. Since then, I’ve been paying attention–at least to the leaves, which I found today. Please don’t ask me what the bark looks like. That’s for a future lesson.

trill2

And though most have gone by, we found one painted trillium to add to my collection of a trillion trillium photos.

ph-mud (1)

After a steady climb among rocks and roots, we reached level land and bog walkways–thanks to the AMC employees and volunteers who worked on new passageways. Talk about getting into your work–check out the mud on this guy and he wasn’t the only one. We met others who had worked for the AMC 30 years ago and were volunteering their time and expertise to complete the trails that we all may enjoy. I hope there was a chilled beer at the end of their day because they were all muddy and sweaty, but smiled as they worked and suggested ways for us to bypass the mud.

salamander1

We slipped off the trail (not literally) and found today’s special find–Eastern newts in a couple of stages.

sally 1

Growing older, the eft began to resemble adults. Don’t we all! Eventually.

lake view 1

Cannon Mountain formed part of the backdrop. For me, Cannon has always evoked a childhood memory. About 50 or more years ago, as my family traveled up the tram to the summit we looked toward Canada and my parents mentioned that our next-door neighbors, the Mansfields, were on their way to Canada, which we could see. I saw the Mansfields’ station wagon. I swear. And every time I pass this way, that memory jumps to the forefront. Once I mentioned it today, my guy and I started sharing past memories as we made our own.

ph Lonesome Lake hut (1)

At last we reached the  Taj Mahal and paused to use the bathroom.

ph mts 4 (1)

We were beside Lonesome Lake and had a splendid view of Mt Lafayette and Franconia Ridge as spring came to a close for 2016.

bog trail

ph-bog (1)

Our journey continued around the lake before we headed back down the trail–for scent and sound think balsam pillows and the banjo plunks of green frogs.

We were hardly lonesome on this trail that is described as tranquil and heavily travelled. We will attest that it is both and loved the hike to Lonesome Lake on today’s Mondate.

 

 

Mondate Circle

~ lmachayes ~ 6 Comments

Today’s Mondate found us circling Holt Pond–on a reconnaissance mission for a section of the trail that we maintain for the Lakes Environmental Association, but also because we just happen to love this tucked-away space. It’s one of those places where we appreciate the constant change in community and feel completely removed from civilization–maybe because we don’t often see others here.

And yet, today, as we walked down “tire alley,” a woman at the far end called to us–by name. Here’s to you, Earlene, for recognizing us. Earlene and I first met almost a year ago on this very trail. I was exploring with some folks from LEA and she was on her own–as is her nature (my kind of nature). I can’t remember what she said, but somehow we made a connection based on this very blog. The fact that our paths have actually crossed a couple of times since then should mean that we need to spend some time together.

h-boardwalk 1

My guy and I followed the boardwalk through the red maple swamps.

h-boardwalk muddy

Our first pause–beside the Muddy River, where the water was high.

h-boardwalk muddy river:beavers

Beaver chews decorated the end of the walk.

h-muddy river

Looking east, we could see the lodge in the distance on the far side of the river, with fresh wood work standing out atop it.

h-muddy to holt

And to the west, the river flowing out of the pond.

h-boardwalk 3

We continued on, wondering how far we’d get, given the amount of water.

h-boardwalk quaking bog

And then it was out to the quaking bog, where we were stopped in our tracks.

h-sawyer brook

Crossing Sawyer Brook, we were struck by the lushness of life.

h-contemplating bridges

We conquered all of the boardwalks, though occasionally we had to pick our way through. As we continued on, our mosey included moments of contemplation as my guy considered bridges we need to construct over some wet spots on the Southwest Shore Trail.

h-landing

Our section of trail ends at the old log landing, where we noted the circle of life in the form of succession as the white pines and hemlocks begin to fill in the space.

h-view from southshore trail

From the southwestern shore, we looked back toward the Muddy River and listened to Canada geese that we never spied.

h-view from southeast

Eventually, we’d circled around to the southeast shore, with a view of Five Fields Farm in the distance.

h-view from snowmobile trail

The wind had increased and the pond reflected its movement.

h-view emerald field

We crossed the Emerald Field and made our way back into the Preserve.

h-view beaver 2

Having circled about, three hours later we were once again beside the Muddy River, downstream from the beaver lodge we’d spied earlier, and looking at a mighty fine dam.

h-horsetail 1

Along the way we noticed that we weren’t the only ones circling about.

h-equisetum

And sometimes a breakthrough was necessary for life to continue.

h-red maple bark

The potential to hit the bull’s eye was a frequent occurrence.

h-pileated scat 1

And even scat (ah, my fav) demonstrated the circular theme. (If you dare to look closely, do  you see the ant body parts in the pileated woodpecker scat?)

h-painted

Circled by its traditional leaves of three, painted trillium wasn’t yet ready to show its beautiful face.

h-sensitive2

But my favorite circles of all right now–fern crosiers. And Earlene–I wasn’t sure what you were talking about when you mentioned the red ferns. I believe I said grape fern, which turns a reddish shade in winter. But even as I said that, I couldn’t remember ever seeing it here. Moments after we chatted with you, however, I knew what you meant–sensitive fern.

h-cinnamon 2

I hope that I’ll be forever in awe of the hairy sheath that envelops cinnamon fern crosiers

h-cinnamon 1

and the life embraced within.

h-Christmas 1

My newest discovery this past week is the Christmas fern crosier. Wrapped in satiny fur, the young frond encompasses life as it prepares to unroll. The more I get to know each species as a crosier, the more obvious they become.

I’m thankful that not only did we circle Holt Pond on today’s Mondate, but we also noticed the circle of life that surrounded us.

 

 

 

 

Following In The Footpath Of Others

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

Rain marked this morning’s dawn, but that didn’t daunt our group of six. We donned overcoats, gloves, hats and waterproof boots knowing that we’d encounter mud along our intended route.

And so we met near the former site of the Methodist church in the northeast corner of Sweden–Sweden, Maine, that is. Our intention was to follow the snowmobile trail for a couple of miles and visit foundations and a few other historic sites along the way.

s-you are here map

Maps dated 1858 and 1880 show a network of roads that served the scattered neighborhoods of this town. The trails we were about to walk on follow the footpaths and wagon tracks of earlier people. These were once town roads. We happened to be in the presence of the president of the Sweden Historical Society and she gave us copies of the maps to help us gain a better understanding of our destination. She also printed out a topographical map so we’d have no excuse for getting lost.

s-following trail in

With the sun suddenly shining upon us, we laughed at ourselves as we moved along because we traveled at breakneck speed. Well, for us anyway–1.8 mph when we were moving. Note the phrase: “when we were moving.”

s-stream to Patterson 1

Along the way, we paused to admire the streams that flow toward Patterson Brook and

s-vp 1

checked on life in a potential vernal pool.

s-stream 2-mill site

While we find water so mesmerizing, I couldn’t help but wonder about its potential here for the early settlers.

s-stream 3

Several times we found stone walls on either side of the streams and didn’t know how to interpret their meaning. That was OK–we appreciated not having all of the answers.

s-stream 4

The opportunity to partake of the beauty among friends old and new was enough.

s-cheyenne

Even four-footed friends.

s-single:double wall

The stonewalls, both double and single in structure, indicated that the land had been cultivated. We tried to make sense out of the sudden switch from single to double and back to single in a short distance, but really, they didn’t necessarily build walls according to our expectations of what life must have been like–a single wall meaning keep the farm animals in or out and the double being a garden wall–lots of times it was probably just plain common sense and a need to get rid of the stones that rose with the frost.

s-drilled rock

Eventually, we climbed over the wall and headed up toward this monument. Dave, who lives in this neighborhood and knows these woods well, encouraged us to ponder.

s-drilled rock 2

Why was the top of the rock split off intentionally and then left there?  Was it intended for a foundation stone? Was the neighborhood abandoned before this piece was used?

s-town line 1

We wandered further through the woods and came to the Sweden/Waterford town line. Two stone walls less than ten feet apart mark the boundary. Waterford to the left and Sweden to the right. (Did I get that right, Linda?–my left and right?)

s-town line

Orange paint also marked the boundary line.

s-kneeland foundation

We’d crossed into Waterford and stopped for a break at the Kneeland (1858)/Kimball (1880) residence, a rather large foundation with a center chimney.

s-fdn rocks, squirrel table

Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who paused here for a snack.

s-hidden brook

And then we crossed the snowmobile trail once more and began bushwhacking again. Though you see only tree shadows, leaves and moss here, it wasn’t what we saw, but what we had the honor to hear that made us stop–an underground brook. It felt like we’d stumbled upon a secret spot.

s-stone chair 2

Dave led us uphill to another special spot a friend of his discovered years ago–the stone chair. You have to wonder about this. We’re in the middle of nowhere that was once somewhere. Below this is a large hole in the earth, possibly a foundation of sorts. And beside, a skidder trail. So, who built the chair?

s-stump by chair 100:50

Atop the foundation of sorts was this cut stump–we surmised it was cut about fifty years ago and that it was about 100 years old at that time.

s-group 1

It really doesn’t matter. What matters is sharing the discovery.

s-chair and Sophie

Another four-footed friend also thought it was rather special.

s-cable

Not too far from here we found something else that spoke of logging.

s-goshen 2

We continued our bushwhack to another site of importance–and came upon it from the backside.

s-goshen sign 2

The Goshen Cemetery, circa 1815. Notice the raindrops and blue sky. A few drops fell in the middle of our walk and then it cleared again.

s-goshen cem 3

The cemetery contains stones that had been buried under the duff, but when discovered, were uprighted in spot.

s-goshen stone 2

s-goshen tomb stone

The tombstones are unmarked and as far as I know, two theories exist–an epidemic struck the neighborhood and those who died needed to be buried as fast as possible, or these were the tombs of the residents from the town’s poorhouse.

s-goshen sign 3

One thing we do know for certain. The bears like the sign and it has been remade several times and posted higher and higher in hopes that they’ll leave it alone.

s-bark art 1

Those were our historical finds, but we also made time to enjoy our surroundings, beginning with artwork created naturally.

s-beech elephant

I always say that beech bark doesn’t remind me of elephant skin, but today–elephant legs and feet, for sure.

s-downy rattlesnake plantain

Peaking out from the leaf litter, downy rattlesnake plantain showed off its white-veined leaves. Stained glass windows come to mind whenever I spy this. And though its the commonest of the rattlesnake plantains, I’m always in awe.

s-checkered rattlesnake

We also nearly stepped on its cousin, checkered rattlesnake plantain. I do have to say that if I were in charge of the world, I’d switch their names.

s-artist conks

We found artists conks and

s-hemlock shelves 1

old hemlock varnish shelves.

s-porcupine den

We know where the porcupines denned,

s-moose:striped maple

moose browsed,

s-pileated 1

woodpeckers dined,

s-deer rub

deer rubbed their antlers,

s-deer rub:paw

and pawed the ground. Do you see it at the bottom of this photo? It’s a scrape meant to communicate information to other deer.

s-flying squirrels 1

But one of my favorite sights of the day–the flying squirrels that scampered up an old snag. Notice the flat tail–a rudder.

s-fs 2

And the flap on its side, that furry membrane that stretches from the wrist to ankle–a parachute of sorts for gliding from tree to tree.

s-fs 4

And those bulging eyes–the better to see in the dark.

s-heading home

Four hours and almost six miles later, we followed the trail out, thankful for the opportunity to spend time wondering together and follow in the footpath of others.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wondering Beside Willard Brook

~ lmachayes ~ 10 Comments

I dragged my guy along for a wander in the Hut Road neighborhood today and we made Willard Brook the center of our attention.

That being said, our journey began at Great Brook. I parked by the gate that isn’t open yet due to  road conditions–not realizing that the only other vehicle belonged to a friend, who kindly left us a note we found under the windshield wiper as we drove away hours later.

The wind was wild and we felt it rattle our bones while we walked along Forest Service Road #4. That just meant a fast walk to the start of our adventure.

h-Great falls

The beauty of this spot never ceases to take my breath away.

h-ice

But we didn’t pause long because that wind was cold and icicles helped tell the story.

h-map

Lately, when I’ve tramped about in this area, I’ve been on the Great Brook Trail to start, but I contacted a few folks in the past two days because they’ve made comments on previous posts that indicated they have some understanding of the Native American presence that once existed here. And perhaps still does.

Stoneham_Hut_Road_1858_12-06-2015

My friend, Jinny Mae, had intended to join us today, but that didn’t work as planned. She and I have explored this area a couple of times in the past few months and she’s my GPS techie, as well as a talented historian and naturalist. The above map is from a section of the 1858 map of Stoneham she posted. (Thanks JM for letting me borrow this without asking.)

Stoneham_Hut_Road_1880_12-06-2015

As Jinny Mae indicates on her blog, this is from the 1880 map and there’s been a change in ownership of the neighborhood homes.

h-stone pile beside willard

We chose a different route than the one she has outlined in red. Ours led to Willard Brook. Just before the snowmobile bridge, we turned right and began to follow the brook. I realized immediately that I’d been here before. Part of my quest was to take a look at stone placement and think about it not as Colonial only, but also as Pre-colonial or Native American. And so, I paused at every rock formation I found, including this circular configuration beside the brook. Current day fire pit? My guy didn’t think so. I don’t know.

h-stove 2

As happens in our woods, we suddenly found ourselves visiting an old camp. Debris is scattered about. This particular piece from a stove front caught my guy’s attention. He was born in Taunton, Massachusetts, and immediately recognized this as coming from The Weir, an industrial section of town. If memory serves him right, there were at least three stove companies in that area.

h-mailbox

My favorite will always be the mailbox, truly a tribute to snail mail.

h-yellow birch

Our intention had been to follow the brook north, but we let an already traveled trail lead us instead. Soon we came to another landmark I remembered, the great yellow birch. An old yellow birch. Very old. I led a bark workshop yesterday and this is one of the trees we talked about. Yellow birch can live to be 200 years old, much longer than any of their relatives. I don’t know the age of this monument, but I do wish I could hear the stories it has to tell of this land.

h-colonial road

We turned left and followed the former road to Willard Brook. Colonial road or older?

h-stone wall turtle

I’ve learned from others to look at the shapes incorporated into stone walls and fences. I may be making this up because I’ve had an affinity with turtles since I was a young child and own quite a collection even to this day, but I see a turtle configured in this wall. Planned or coincidence? Worth a wonder.

h-stone wall 2, turtle

Potentially another in this section of the same wall, but at the same time, this part seems more consistent in structure.

h-Willard 1

We ate the quickest lunch in our hiking history because our fingers were so cold. Even winter temps didn’t seem to bother us as much as today’s temp and wind chill. Lunch rock  sat beside Willard Brook with Speckled Mountain above.

h-entering neighborhood

And then we backtracked up the road and I took my guy up to the Hut Road neighborhood. He’d not visited this particular community before, so was happy to make its acquaintance.

h-1st fdn

Our first encounter was with the Willard homestead of 1858; later known as the McKeen homestead of 1880.

h-wall on hill, balancing

As we moved up the hill to another foundation, we passed by this stonewall, where I wondered about the difference in stone size. A balancing act perhaps?

h-fdn 2 and chamber

Homestead #2 belonged to the Durgins in 1858 and Rowlands in 1880. It’s one of my favorites because of the stone chamber within. Which came first–the stone chamber or the rest of the cellar? Was the entire cellar considered a root cellar?

h-chamber interior

Hence, a closer look. Oh yes, and the porcupine scat pile is still there in the back right-hand corner, but none of it is fresh. Darn.

h-chamber stones 1

On the outside of the chamber’s edge that connects with the cellar–again my imagination took over. Perhaps my turtle’s head is the large blocky rock bottom center. Or is it a smaller version in the rocks above. Am I seeing things that are not there? Overthinking as my guy would suggest?

h-chamber back

Perhaps in the back wall?

h-chamber int 2

And in the side? Again, I see a face peering out at me just up from the bottom center/left. Do you see it?

h-rock pile 2

h-stone 5

h-stone pile 4

h-stone pile 3

While I was busy photographing stone piles in the woods and wondering about their significance, my guy followed his nose and made a discovery that has eluded Jinny Mae and me for months.

h-tombstones 1

Just like that he found the cemetery.

h-Sarah Dergin

Sarah, daughter of Anna and Ephraim, is the first tombstone. She died in 1858 at age 22.

h-Mary Dergin

Beside her, Mary, wife of Sumner Dergin, who died before Sarah–in 1856. She, too, was 22 years old. As best I can tell, Sarah and Sumner were siblings.

h-Ephraim Durgin

And Ephraim, Sarah’s father, who died in 1873 at age 81. Notice the difference in stone from the two girls to Ephraim? Slate to cement. And the name spelling–Dergin and Durgin. As genealogy hobbiests, we’ve become accustomed to variations in spelling.

I found the following on RootsWeb:

8. ANNA3 FURLONG (PATRICK2, JOHN1) was born 1791 in Limerick, Maine, and died 1873 in Stoneham, Maine. She married EPHRAIM DURGIN June 18, 1817 in Limerick, Maine14. He was born April 13, 1790 in Limerick, Maine, and died in Stoneham.

Children of ANNA FURLONG and EPHRAIM DURGIN are:
i.OLIVE4 DURGIN, b. 1811, Stoneham, Maine; m. DUNCAN M. ROSS, April 11, 1860, Portland, Maine.
ii.SALOMA DURGIN, b. 1813.
iii.ELIZABETH DURGIN, b. 1815.
iv.SALLY DURGIN, b. 1817.
v.SUMNER F. DURGIN, b. 1819, Of Stoneham, Massachusettes; m. MARY ANN DURGAN, July 11, 1853, York County, Maine; b. Of Parsonsfield, Maine.
vi.CASANDIA DURGIN, b. 1821.
vii.EPHRAIM DURGIN, b. 1823.
viii.FANNY DURGIN, b. 1825.

Sarah isn’t listed above. But . . . Sally and Sarah were often interchangeable.

h-cemetery view-Durgin

Though only these three stones stand upright, leaning against a wall, this potentially was a large cemetery. And the view–Durgin Mountain.

h-down from cem

Rather than backtrack again, we decided to travel cross-country back toward Willard Brook.

h-bog

At the bottom of the hill, the area was filled with sphagnum moss and cinnamon and interrupted fern.

h-bear scat

Though I didn’t find any bear trees today, I did find bear scat ;-)

h-moose scat

And plenty of moose sign.

h-red maple

The red maples offered numerous examples of the bull’s-eye fungi that I told yesterday’s workshop participants to notice. I encouraged them to develop bark eyes. Meanwhile, I’m working on my stone eyes. (not stoned!)

h-willard dry bed

As we traipsed across the landscape, my guy recognized the large yellow birch we’d come upon earlier. And then we followed the walls down to Willard Brook where bushwhacking became the name of the game. Sometimes we found ourselves moving cautiously along the rocks in a dry section of riverbed–the overflow.

h-rock slide by Willard

I kept my eyes open for stone treatments and found this twenty-foot rock slide that didn’t look natural. I have no idea what it represents.

h-wheels

One of the things I continue to notice and love about the woods around us–no matter how far from civilization you think you are, you never are. Notice the wooden wheel spokes.

h-trees and rocks beside willard

I also noticed the trees and rocks across Willard, where the water’s rise and fall over the years has carved out a unique landscape and each entity is intertwined with the other.

h-2nd bridge

Eventually we came out at the spot where we’d headed off the snowmobile trail and decided to turn right and follow it toward Evergreen Valley.

h-cairn

Though the walk was nice and the wind not so strong, we got to this modern-day cairn and felt we’d gone far enough. We turned back and bushwhacked down to Willard Brook.

h-scouting willard

Like Lewis, my guy scouted for a crossing. Like Clark, I followed.

h-brook crossing

Our spot to ford the brook looked easier than it was. He crossed first and landed without issue. Me too–um, almost. Only one foot slipped. His comment, “Good thing your hiking boots are waterproof.” My response, “Yeah, but my socks aren’t.” Oh well. I’ve had wet feet before and will again. When I finally took my boot off at home, I was surprised at how drenched the sock was.

h-great brook on way back

We made our way through balsam fir saplings and hobblebush and a variety of other species and turned away from Willard assuming we’d eventually encounter Great Brook again. Success.

h-great structure 2

I’d been told to pay attention to Willard for Native American sites, and found this beside Great Brook. I have no idea what it represents.

h-3rd fdn central chimney

And lo and behold as we headed back to our starting point, we found ourselves at a third foundation–a rather large one with a center chimney between two cellar holes and an addition behind it. It’s where the school probably stood in 1858 and A. Gray’s home in 1880.

h-fnd 3 chimney

Bricks still top the central chimney.

h-final

Just like that, we were back at our starting point–looking at it from the opposite side of the brook.

Thanks to all those I bugged about what to look for as we tramped about today. And thanks again to Jinny Mae for her talent. I can’t wait to share this trail with you again.

We’d wandered for hours and found plenty to wonder about–especially along Willard Brook.

 

 

 

Book of the Month: TREES and SHRUBS of NORTHERN NEW ENGLAND

~ lmachayes

Sometimes the biggest gems arrive in the smallest packages. Such is the case with this month’s book–and this isn’t an April Fools’ Day joke, though I did briefly consider posting an upside-down photo of the cover.

t-book

I picked up this copy of  TREES and SHRUBS of NORTHERN NEW ENGLAND at a book swap during the Maine Master Naturalist Program’s first conference this past year. This third edition was compiled by Frederic L. Steele, Chairman of the Science Department, St. Mary’s-in-the-Mountains, Littleton, NH, and Albion R. Hodgdon, Professor of Botany, University of New Hampshire, Durham, NH, and published in 1975 by the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests.

One of the things I like about it is that it measures 4.5 x 7 inches and fits easily into my pack. Plus, it includes more shrubs than many of my current books.

t-leaves

And check this out from the introduction: “In the preparation of this guide, the authors have received help and encouragement from a number of people. The following, in particular, should be mentioned . . . Mrs. Priscilla Kunhardt and Miss Pamela Bruns have done the illustrations . . . ” Mrs. and Miss! Ah, what happened to those days?

t-quaking description

The descriptions are not lengthy, but enough for a quick reference. I choose the Trembling Aspen, which I’ve learned as Quaking Aspen (I know–that’s the problem with common names say my Latin-oriented friends) because two are located right out the back door. They are the trees of life in our yard.

t-catkins forming

Catkins slowly emerge from waxy-coated buds

qa 1

and grow longer with lengthening days.

qa 5

Tufts of hair adorn tiny seeds.

T-summer

Soon, leaves on flat stems quake in the breeze,

t-caterpillars

until visitors arrive.

t-leaf eaters

Very hungry caterpillars.

t-porky

They aren’t the only ones. Porcupines nip off branches.

t-leaf

Eventually, leaves that survive fall to the ground.

t-hairy woodpeckers

All year long, birds visit to dine

t-cardinal

and view the world.

t-cat

The world looks back.

t-ice

Ice slowly melts

qa 2

and life continues.

TREES and SHRUBS of NORTHERN NEW ENGLAND doesn’t include photos, but that’s OK because I have my own. Instead, as any good guide, it’s a jumping off place. So many books, so much different information–and sometimes guides contradict each other. Just the same, I love to read them and then to pay attention. For me, it’s all about forever learning. And wondering.

TREES and SHRUBS of NORTHERN NEW ENGLAND, by Frederic L. Steel and Albion R. Hodgdon, Society for the Protection on Northern Forests, 1975.

Milling About Stevens Brook

~ lmachayes ~ 13 Comments

I must begin with a thank you to fiber artist, historian and friend, Sue Black. Sue has led numerous walks along the very trail I followed today and I’ve often been in her presence–usually with notebook in hand so I could jot information down and gain a better understanding of this place.

s-trail sign

Though she wasn’t with me today, I could hear Sue as I mosied along examining the old mill sites of the Stevens Brook Trail in Bridgton. And many of the words that follow are probably hers. I also gleaned info from the Bridgton Historical Society several years ago, when Sue couldn’t lead the walk and asked me to fill in. So I guess, really, what follows is like the confluence of the Stevens and Willet Brooks–two streams that meet to form one.

s-boardwalk under water

Bridgton was once a thriving mill town and Stevens Brook its source of power. Of course, to do this properly, I should begin at Highland Lake, the source of the brook, but  I’m not a proper-sort-of gal and you’ll have to bear with me. I didn’t begin at Pondicherry Park either–for the boardwalk was under water.

s-below Pondicherry

Instead, I slipped onto the trail at Depot Street, beside the Bridgton Community Center. By this point, Willet Brook has joined forces with Stevens, thus increasing the power of the water. I was backtracking, and again didn’t get far because of water flowing over the trail, but along the way I made a discovery. Those beautiful trees that lean over the brook–silver maples (Acer saccharinum). It never occurred to me that they grew here, but makes perfect sense.

s-silver maple leaf

The backside of the deeply-lobed leaves are silvery gray in old age and silvery white during their prime.

I should have taken a photo of the old Memorial School because that was the sight of the train depot (Depot Street) for the Bridgton and Saco River Railroad that was built in 1883–a narrow gauge operating from Hiram, but didn’t think of it at the time. Instead, I followed the stone steps down, walked beside the brook as it ran below the deep bank by Stevens Brook Elementary School and came up behind a few old buildings, back on Depot.

s-food city bridge

And then I stood on the bridge overlooking Food City. I should note that this is power site #4. Yup, I’ve skipped the first three for now. Stick with me. We’ll get there. In 1822, this area of town wasn’t part of the main village–that was confined to Main Hill. A water-powered carding mill equipped to prepare wool for spinning, thus replacing the tedious hand work of disentangling, cleaning and intermixing the fibers was in operation in this area at the time. By 1825, James Flint and Aaron Littlefield built a sawmill, which they operated for 15 years. In 1840, this was the site of the Walker Saw Mill and Grist Mill. And then things changed. The Pondicherry Mill was built in 1865 to manufacture woolen goods. It was one of the most extensive manufacturing plants in Maine at that time and employed 50 operators. Standing where I was on the bridge, I could see the stones related to the mill and dam. The dam disintegrated in the 1960s.

s-coal trestle

s-trestle 2

In 1898, the neighboring town of Harrison wanted to be joined to the railroad and the RR owners obliged. From this spur, a trestle was built that carried coal in dump carts to the Pondicherry Mill. The structure has deteriorated immensely, but still stands as a monument to this moment in history. So wait, think about this coal situation. The mill had grown to employ 225 people and water power from the brook was no longer dependable. An immense coal-burning chimney about 100 feet in height had been added to the mill. Sixty looms produced 18,000 yards of cloth weekly. Though the building stood until the mid-sixties, the industry moved south long before that. The stones by the brook and trestle are all that are left to tell the story. A now-deceased resident, Reg Fadden, used to tell the story of knowing what color they were dying the wool on any particular day–he’d see the color in the water as he walked to school.

s-former millpond:5th site

Above power site #5, the land was flat and indicative of a former mill pond.

s-5th site

A stone dam and some other foundation work is all that’s now left. The first mill to be located here was a sawmill built in 1868. By 1871, a shovel factory was built on the west side, which was the side I stood upon. By 1899, the Bridgton Lumber Company had located to this power site, with two mills operating–one for boxes and house furnishings; the other for lumber. This apparently was a successful site because in 1911 it became the Burnham and Newcomb Sawmill, which was purchased by Harry Bisbee in 1920. He used a turbine since the water power wasn’t dependable. Though it gushed over the rocks today, in the summertime, this is the perfect place to sit on the flat rocks and dangle ones feet. I can’t remember if Sue told me this or I read it, but apparently there was a treacherous footwalk that crossed the brook in this area and even at age 90, Mr Bisbee would walk across. The sawmill eventually burned, with only the office remaining. This time using a diesel engine, Mr. Bisbee started a smaller sawmill. In 1953, the dam washed out with a flood and local lore has it that Mr. Bisbee walked out one day, leaving it all behind. He died a couple of years later, gifting the mill to the public library.

Charles Fadden and his son, Reg, bought the mill at auction and operated a box mill, using a turbine for power. The office was still standing until about ten years ago, when it collapsed.

s-narrow 1

By the mill, the Harrison Narrow Gauge crossed over a trestle; today only the stone stanchions remain. A sixth power site was never developed.

s-locust bark

It was here that I recognized another tree I don’t always encounter–a black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia). The bark appears almost braided.

s-locust pod

And below it, an old flat pod that contains bean-like seeds.

s-7th site, Johnson Falls

I followed a new trail (possibly private, but it wasn’t posted) and was delighted to get a better view of what I believe is power site #7.

s-lower johnson falls site 7

If I’m correct in my thinking, this is Lower Johnson Falls, and was the possible 1859 site of the Milliken Bedstead Factory.

s-remnants by Johnson falls

A foundation is still visible on the eastern side of the brook.

s-7th site, smith sash 1

Below power site #7, I came to the coffin shop. Hey, somebody has to build them. Lewis Smith built the two-story building with a basement in the late 1860s. It was a sash and blind factory, but he also built furniture, and yes, coffins. More local lore: he was the town’s first undertaker. While the building has had several owners since then who have tried to restore it, it still needs some (way more than some) tender loving care so it doesn’t go the way of all the other mills.

s-turbine rig

All that remains of a water-powered turbine still reaches over the brook. Originally, all the water wheels along the brook were overshot wheels. While an overshot wheel had horizontal axils, a turbine wheel had vertical axils, thus making it smaller, more efficient and more dependable given the rise and fall of the water.

s-turbine

And on the front lawn of the coffin shop, the real deal–a Perry Turbine Water Wheel. In 1877, Richard Bailey and Samuel Miller operated an iron factory and machine shop built by William Perry and George Taylor across the road from the Smith factory. When they sold their business to Forest Mills owed by William  Fessenden Perry, it was renamed the Bridgton Machine Company with George and Frank Burnham taking over as managers. In 1887, the Perry turbine was invented and it received nation-wide popularity for use in mills along small streams.

s-forest mill a

Power site #8 is one of my favorites. This is where Perry and Taylor erected a mill in 1862 to manufacture woolen goods. The dam was built to provide a fifteen-foot fall with a mill pond above.

s-Forest Woolen Mill 2

s-forest sluice

Today the sluiceway is dry, but I can imagine the water pouring through here.

s-forest woolen mill 3

With the advent of Kansas Road in 1865, the woolen mill expanded to 200 feet by 45 feet and stood two stories tall. With more looms than any mill in the area, outerwear was produced here and shipped to Boston. During the Civil War, attention turned to creating war materials.

s-9th site, Kennard Dam

Across the street, I ventured down the wrong trail at first and found myself on the upper side of the dam built at power site #9. The 13′ dam built by Boothby and Chadwick in 1864 was near Kennards Stocking Mill. It was originally intended that Kansas Road would cross the dam, but the turn would have been too sharp and too steep.

s-vp by Kennards, 9th site

Today, a vernal pool sits below the former dam. I checked it and several others along the way. No signs of life. I’ve yet to hear spring peepers.

Anyway, Taylor and Perry purchased this site in 1865 and built a three-story carding mill with an overhead walkway that crossed Kansas Road and connected their two mills: Forest Mill #1 and Forest Mill #2.  By 1879, Mr. Taylor had died and Mr. Perry re-organized as the Forest Mills Company, which employed 130 workers and produced cashmere. As Sue has told me, this was not from cashmere goats but rather a lightweight fabric consisting of wool fiber that had either a plain or twill weave.

s-power 9

A railroad spur and trestle were built in 1900 to unload coal and other supplies for the Forest Mills Company. The American Wool Company purchased the mill, which was large for Bridgton, but small compared to those south of Maine. Eventually, business moved south. In 1925, a shoe shop moved in, but it wasn’t successful either. The building was torn down in 1962.

s-powerline trail

The scene changed briefly when I followed the trail onto the present day power line.

s-powerline boardwalk

Typically, this boardwalk is under water in March and April. But this year is far from typical.

s-cmp pond

And then I reached power site #10. This is the most modern of them all, but again, it has a history. It’s possible that this was the site of Jacob Stevens’s first sawmill built in 1768.

s-cmp dam 1

Mr. Stevens would have built a boulder and gravel dam, not one of cement certainly. He lived nearby and raised eight children; the four oldest worked beside him. Mr. Stevens was a ranking member of the survey crew that came to what is now called Bridgton in 1766 from Andover, Massachusetts. He returned in 1768 under contract with the Proprietors to develop water power and make it serve the early settlers by creating mills that provided building materials and grain for food. Stevens was the one who identified twelve power sites along the almost two-mile brook with a drop of 156 feet from its source at Highland Lake (known originally as Crotched Pond) to its outlet at Long Lake (Long Pond). It made sense for him to build a site here for both a saw mill and grist mill, as this is near the mouth of the stream and would have provided him with easy access to the main thoroughfare of Long Pond and beyond. The proprietors required that the saw mill operate for fifteen years and the grist mill for twenty.

s-cmp dam 4

I don’t know what happened between 1768 and 1896 when the Bridgton Water and Electric Company took over as the first source of electricity and water for the village. The concrete dam was built in 1931 by Central Maine Power after several transfers of ownership. The greatest power could be found between this site and power site #11, where the brook drops 25-30 feet.

s-penstock start

A 790-foot penstock was built to regulate the flow of the water.

s-penstock channel

s-penstock support

Evidence remains of its position and actually, it’s easiest to see right now before the summer foliage obscures so much.

s-1

Somewhere in this area was power site #11. The Hart Tannery may have been built on an island in the middle of the brook.

s-water drops below CMP

The exact location of power site #12 is also elusive, but rumor has it that a shingle factory was located between site #11 and the outlet.

s-1922 brick

Early on, a wooden structure was used as a power house. That was replaced by a brick building built in 1922 by the Western Maine Power Company. Notice where the penstock entered. And above it, a turbine generator.

s-Long lake 2

All was calm by the time Stevens Brook emptied into Long Lake today.

s-beaver 1

Though it’s easy to miss, this area still offers a source of dams and industry.

s-beaver lodge and dams

Beaver style.

s-3

I walked back up Main Street and headed to the first three power sites, which I present in backwards order at the risk of confusing my tired readers. Power site #3 has a storied past: 1813-fulling mill (put weaving on hot water and beat it to close fibers); 1822-saw and grist mill; 1830-saw, grist and plaster mill; 1845-mill burned; 1857-rebuilt two stories; 1877-never rebuilt. Yet this was long known as the Dam Site and a Dam Site Restaurant stood here for years. Across the street was a tannery, which didn’t need water for power, but did need water to fill the 140 vats. Using hemlock bark, 10,000 hides were tanned each year.

s-shorey park dam 1

I’m only just realizing that I missed power site #2. I looked at it as I walked by, but must have been tired. Anyway, it’s below this split stone dam and served as a grist mill in 1798 and a sash and blind mill in 1835.

s-sp 3rd power site

Power site #1 was originally a saw mill built by Asa Kimball at the head of Stevens Brook. The lay of the land has changed since roads were constructed and Highland Lake (Crotched Pond) had a different configuration and lower depth. The pond served as Mr. Kimball’s mill pond, where he floated logs from Sweden (Sweden, Maine, that is). The split stone dam was erected in 1849-50 by Rufus Gibbs and others, thus providing power for the first big mill in the village that stood four stories tall, employed 50 workers, ran 20 looms and made blankets for the Civil War. By 1941, is was demolished.

s-sp millpond

This is the mill pond as we see it today, but if my vision is clear, before Highland Road intercepted it, this was part of Crotched Pond.

s-highland

And the start of it all, the thing that got me milling about today, Highland Lake and the source of Stevens Brook.

Dear reader, if you are with me still, thank you. It was a long journey and I appreciate that you came along.

 

 

On The Verge Of Change

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

Change is in the air. Stepping out the door this morning, I was immediately treated to the sight of wet mammal tracks on the deck.

b-raccoon tracks

The hand-like shape was hardly a surprise since at least two raccoons visit the bird feeders on their nightly rounds.

b-wintergreen

My next source of delight–frost embracing wintergreen berries and leaves.

vp1

And then I paid my respects to the vernal pool. While there, I spent some time reflecting on Bridie McGreavy, who celebrates her birth this day, and many moons ago introduced me to the sacredness of place–especially this delicate space.

Vp2

Feather ice formed after yesterday’s melt and last night’s cooler temps.

As I did last year, I intend to document the pool on a regular basis–noting its evolution over time. This year’s big question: Will Big Night happen earlier than normal? I’m already receiving reports from others of spring peepers singing their songs.

b-brook 2

And then I was off to the GLLT’s Back Pond Reserve in Stoneham. My friend, Parker, and I were on a quest to locate species that would be good indicators of rich soils. He’s much better at knowing about this than I am, so I tagged along–thankful for the opportunity to bushwhack beside the stream that eventually flows into Back Pond while learning from him.

b-bass 2

We found a dead tree that stymied us for a few minutes, but though it has some ash-like tendencies, we came to the conclusion that it was a basswood–one of those indicators we were seeking.

b-basswood bark

Only thing–during our entire search, we only found two.

b-bear tree

But that’s OK because there was so much more to see. Though I’ve spotted other bear trees in these woods, this one features the best sign. My guy will be jealous that he wasn’t with us to find this one.

b-crowded parchment

For many of us, Parker is our fungi guru. He and his brother became interested in mushrooms at a young age and have studied them extensively. They know only Latin, I speak only common. And so, I present to you crowded parchment (Stereum rameale). 

b-hemlock varnish shelf

Hemlock varnish shelf (Ganoderma tsugae) grows prolifically in these woods. These old fruiting bodies are still beautiful in their offering.

b-panellus stipticus?

And though it didn’t get dark while we were there, Parker found Panellus stipticus, a bioluminescent species. Check out those gills on the underside. According to Lawrence Millman in his book Fascinating Fungi of New England, ” . . . specimens in the Northeast glow more obviously than specimens in other parts of North America.” So  if you are ever in these woods late at night, don’t be freaked out by a light greenish glow. It just might be nature’s night light.

b-magenta fungi

The fun thing about exploring with Parker is that he’s not afraid to say, “I don’t know.” Such was the case with this magenta fungus we found on the inner bark of a rotting stump.

b-hemlock:hop hornbeam 2

I don’t know why I’m surprised every time I see two trees sharing a space,but I am–this time hemlock and hop hornbeam.

b-brook sans ice

We continued beside the stream for most of our climb and eventually came upon the trail that connects Ron’s Loop to The Mountain.

b-lichen on tree

A few things stopped us along the way, including this lichen that neither of us could conclusively identify,

b-rock lichen

what I believe is peppered rock tripe,

b-lungwort, lichens

and the glorious bright green state of lungwort. The thing that gave us pause about the lungwort wasn’t so much the lungwort as the lichen and moss garden that also decorated this tree.

b-mtn bog

And then we were literally stopped by water. Our intention to reach the scenic view over the Five Kezars was prevented by this boggy area. A vernal pool?

b-mtn bog 2

Certainly a wetland. We explored for a few minutes and wondered about the species that will appear here in the next few months.

b-boulder field

Then we returned to the stream, crossed over and paid a visit to the boulder field for a closer examination.

b-rock tripe 1

Like the lungwort, much of the rock tripe was also green today–a testimony to recent rain and yesterday’s hail.

b-tripe center

Two things to note–how it grows from the center umbilicus, like an umbilical cord, thus its Latin name: Umbilicaria mammulata; and the fact that it’s creating a garden on the up-rock side, where mosses and humus and seeds gather.

b-rock tripe water 2

I found a drier brown specimen that had captured several drops of water and held them still.

b-redbacked

Upon our decent, we stumbled upon a redback salamander–the first of the season for both of us. It seemed rather lethargic so we covered it with leaves and wished it a safe life. Redbacks are terrestrial and don’t have an association with vernal pools, though they are sometimes spotted on Big Night as we help the salamanders cross the road.

b-rose moss 1

A mossy display on several rocks in a seepage meant we had to pause again.

b-rose 2

We believe this is rose moss (Rhodobryum ontariense), but our ID was quick.

b-rose 3

Based on the description in  Common Mosses of the Northeast and Appalachians, “the shield-shaped leaves are widest above mid leaf and end in needle point.” Yup.

b-wood sorrell

And then we realized we have to get our wildflower eyes back on. The wood sorrel (Oxalis montana) leaves stumped us initially, but what else could it be?

b-wood sorrel 2

Other than a luna moth, that is! Doesn’t it remind you of one?

b-foamflower?

Without a flower, it’s difficult to ID a plant. My first choice: Foamflower or False Miterwort (Tiarella cordifolia), but my second choice based on the blunt-toothed leaves: Naked Miterwort (Mitella nuda). Time . . . and blossoms will tell.

b-orchid?

Our final find of the day left us with differing opinions. I said shinleaf (Pyrola elliptic). Parker said Corallorhiza maculate, which is a coralroot. A friend of his who is an orchid expert agreed. I guess we’ll have to revisit this place to confirm.

We’re on the verge of change and the seasons may collide with a Nor’easter in the offing.

 

 

The Borrowing

~ lmachayes ~ 5 Comments

My friend, Dick, sent me the following message yesterday: “from a novel, Northwest Angle by Krueger … who has a series which relates to the Objidwa (sp) of the upper parts of Michigan …

‘What’s a Mide?” — ‘A member of the Grand Medicine Society,’ Stephen explained. ‘A healer. Somebody who understands the harmony of life and how to use nature to restore harmony when it’s been lost.” p246

“Belongs.” Meloux (a very senior shaman type of the Native American ‘Mide’ of the Objidwe) seemed to consider the word. “I believe no one belongs to anyone else. You, me Waaboozoons, we are all dust borrowed for a little while from Grandmother Earth. And even that dust does not belong to her. She has borrowed it from all creation, which is the Great Mystery, which is Kitchimanidoo. And if you ask this old man, I would say that another way to think about Kitchiimanidoo is as a great gift. Kitchimanidoo is not about keeping. Nothing belongs to anyone. All of creation is meant as a giving.” p 269

While I haven’t read the book or any of Krueger’s works, these words resonated with me as I moved about this morning.

m-vp

My first stop was a visit to the vernal pool, where the ice is beginning to melt.

m-vp, birch seeds

I looked for insects and found instead birch seeds and scales–meant as a giving.

m-berries

Wintergreen berries remained prolific below the power lines. While this fruit is traditionally browsed by a variety of mammals, I had to wonder if its location is the reason it was left untouched–poisoned by the herbicides Central Maine Power uses to keep the land clear. What was meant as a giving revoked.

m-leaves thru ice

Not all was bad as I followed the trail for a distance and enjoyed the beauty that has begun to emerge.

m-sphagnum color

The pompom heads of sphagnum moss contrasted brilliantly beside the running clubmoss.

m-trail light

Looking back, I noticed that today’s sunlight was captured in yesterday’s raindrops–certainly a reason for thanks-giving.

m-mount 1

And before me–man and nature in the eternal struggle for harmony. An example of borrowing.

m-pollen?1

Before I turned onto a logging road, a puddle caught my attention.

m-pollen?2

My first thought was pollen, but as I approached, I realized the little dots were moving about much like spring tails because .  . . they were spring tails. So my learning increased as I noted their color and the fact that there are aquatic members of this family. Another giving received.

m-pin cherry warts 2

On recent treks, my bark eyes have been confused about two trees–black birch (aka sweet or cherry birch) and pin cherry. As youngsters, both feature reddish-brown bark. What has thrown me off is the association with other birch trees, including the yellow birch that grows behind this specimen. Today, I made a point of noticing–the warty orange lenticels, lack of catkins and no wintergreen scent. These are three features that helped point me toward pin cherry. Black birch bark features long, thin lenticels, catkins common to birch trees and when scraped, that delightful wintergreen smell.

m-pin cherry:birch1

Despite the fact that they are not of the same family, certainly they’ve found a way to give to each other and live in harmony. A lesson.

m-porky

Just beyond the birches, in one of many stump dumps along this logging road, something caught my eye.

m-porky 1

A porcupine worked over the bark of a fallen hemlock tree. I stood for several minutes and watched. Either it wasn’t aware of me or I didn’t pose enough of a threat.

m-porky again

The leaf caught on its backside made me chuckle and wonder why we don’t see more of that.

m-porky like

I’m amazed that I saw it at all in this land that has been chopped up over the course of the last three years. Notice how leaves are similarly stuck to this shredded tree stump.

m-porky tree 3

m-porky tree 2

m-porky tree

Behind were the trees that have received the porcupine’s recent attention. While the logging is destructive, it helps heat homes, provides income to at least several people including the logger and landowner, and creates new habitat and food opportunities for wildlife. Change is difficult and I’d grown to love these woods the way they were, but they were that way because of prior cuttings. A borrowing.

m-bubbles

Most of the logging road was a combination of puddles and mud. At times, air bubbles rippled as I moved through and I was reminded of my youth years spent feeling for clams in the mudflats of Clinton Harbor on Long Island Sound. The memory itself was a giving.

m-deer 2

Like the deer that frequent this land, my boots got stuck in the muck. Sometimes, it seemed like I was being sucked in and told to stand still. But my mind wandered on and I followed it.

m-trail conditions

Going forward in time, I’ll be curious to watch the reflections in the puddles change as the pioneer species move back in and regenerate this land. The harmony.

m-spirit

In the end, as always seems the case, I was on the receiving end of the giving and grateful for the borrowing as the spirit of Grandmother Earth shared a few tidbits of the Great Mystery.

 

 

 

Spotlight on Sabattus

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

Following this morning’s Greater Lovell Land Trust trek at Chip Stockford Reserve, where we helped old and new friends form bark eyes as they examined various members of the birch family, my feet were itchy. Not in the scratchy sort of way–but rather to keep moving.

It was a lovely day for a hike and Sabattus Mountain in Lovell was my destination. I love this little mountain because it offers several different natural communities and great views.

s-com 1

Though there are a few softwoods on the lower portion of the trail, it’s really the land of a hardwood mix.

s-downed twigs

About halfway up, the neighborhood switches to a hemlock-pine-oak community. It was then that I began looking for downed hemlock twigs in an array at the base of trees. I’ve found them here before, and today I wasn’t disappointed.

s-porky chew 3

The twigs had been chewed off and dropped by a porcupine as evidenced by the 45˚-angled cut and incisor marks. Though red squirrels also nip off the tips of hemlock twigs, they do just that–nip the tips. Porcupines cut branches.

s-porky cliff

Downed branches usually mean scat, but I searched high and low and under numerous trees that showed signs of activity and found none. A disappointment certainly.

s-pippipsewa

My search, however, led me to other delightful finds that are showing up now that most of the snow has melted, like this pipsissewa that glowed in the afternoon sun. As is its habit, the shiny evergreen leaves look brand new–even though they’ve spent the winter plastered under snow and ice. A cheery reminder that spring isn’t far off.

s-Pleasant 1

At the summit, I got my bearings–the ridge of Pleasant Mountain and Shawnee Peak Ski Area to the southeast.

s-mount tom & kezar pond

To the southwest, the asymmetrical Roche Moutonnée, Mount Tom, visible as it stands guard over Kezar Pond in Fryeburg.

s-Kearsarge 2

And to the west, Kezar Lake backed by Mount Kearsarge in New Hampshire. I wanted to venture further out on the ledge, but some others hikers had arrived and I opted not to disturb their peace.

s-summit wind

Instead, I sat for a few minutes and enjoyed the strong breeze offering possibilities as it floated over the summit and me.

s-porky cuts1

Crossing the ridge, I left the trail and found more porcupine trees, including this young hemlock that had several cuts–look in the upper right-hand corner and lower left hand. A number of younger trees along this stretch will forever be Lorax trees.

s-golden moonglow1

On the outcrop of quartz, I paused to admire the golden moonglow lichen–it’s almost as if someone drew each hand-like section in black and then filled in the color, creating an effect that radiates outward.

s-polypody patch

I was pleasantly surprised to find a patch of polypody ferns on what appears to be the forest floor but was actually the rocky ridge. Notice how open-faced it is, indicating that the temperature was quite a bit warmer than what I’d seen on cold winter days.

s-polypody sun

Sunlight made the pinna translucent and the pompoms of sori on the backside shone through.

s-glacial 1

The trail doesn’t pass this glacial erratic, but I stepped over the logs indicating I should turn left and continued a wee bit further until I reached this special spot.

s-porky scat 1

Its backside has been a porcupine den forever and ever. Nice to know that some things never change.

s-hemlocks and oaks

After returning to the trail, I followed it down through the hemlocks and oaks. This is my favorite part of the trail and though it’s a loop, I like to save this section for the downward hike–maybe because it forces me to slow down.

s-fairies 1

For one thing, it features the land of the fairies. I always feel their presence when here. Blame it on my father who knew of their existence.

s-fairies 2

I had a feeling a few friends were home–those who found their way into a fairy tale I wrote years ago. I left them be–trusting they were resting until this evening.

s-community transition 1

As swiftly as the community changed on the upward trail, the same was true on my descent.

s-birch bark color

On our morning trek, we’d looked at paper birch, but none of the trees we saw showed the range of colors like this one–a watercolor painting of a sunset.

s-birch bark 1

This one shows the black scar that occurs when people peel bark. The tree will live, but think about having your winter coat torn off of you on a frigid winter day. Or worse.

s-black birch 1

Off the trail again, I paused by a few trees that I believe are black birch. Lately, a few of us have been questioning black birch/pin cherry because they have similar bark. The telltale sign should be catkins dangling from the birch branches. I looked up and didn’t see catkins, but the trees may not be old enough to be viable. This particular one, however, featured birch polypores. So maybe I was right. I do know one thing–it’s not healthy.

s-pines 2a

And then I reached a section of trail that I’ve watched grow and change in a way that’s more noticeable than most. I counted the whorls on these white pines and determined that they are about 25 years old. I remember when our sons, who are in their early twenties, towered over the trees in their sapling form. Now two to three times taller than our young men, the trees crowded growing conditions have naturally culled them.

s-birch planter

Nature isn’t the only one that has culled the trees. Following their selection to be logged, however, some became planters for other species.

s-3 trees

Nearing the end of the trail another view warmed my heart. Three trees, three species, three amigos. Despite their differences, they’ve found a way to live together. It strikes me as a message to our nation.

Perhaps our leaders need to turn the spotlight on places like Sabattus. It’s worth a wonder.

 

 

 

 

Same Old is New

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

Same old, same old. Sometimes it feels that way as we travel familiar trails and recognize members of the community. And so it seemed today.

a-fdn 1

We paused to check on a few neighbors along the Homestead Trail at the Greater Lovell Land Trust’s Heald and Bradley Ponds Reserve, but no one was home.

a-signs

And so we decided to climb to the summit of Amos Mountain.

Along the way, I realized we weren’t the only ones exploring this property–several times we saw where a mink had bounded across, even enjoying a short downward slide in the midst of its journey.

a-summit view

From the summit, Kezar Lake stretched before us as we ate our PB&J sandwiches and Girl Scout cookies–Lemonades™.

a-whiting to pleasant

And another view, Whiting Hill in the center foreground and a peek at our beloved Pleasant Mountain, visible just to left of the center pines.

a-stonewalls 1

On the way down we decided to explore the stonewalls for a bit, at times terraced and following the contour of the mountain.

a-bear 3

And that’s when the same old started to change. Yes, we found another bear tree.

a-bear 4

And on what side of the tree should we find the claw scars? Why the north of course, adding to our unscientific theory that bears climb trees on this side. Typically, the northern side is the uphill side. Our mission is to continue to pay attention to this–tough job that we choose to accept.

a-stonewalls 4

Sometimes the walls appeared to enclose pens.

a-stonewalls 6

And other times they opened–perhaps to pastures?

a-northern white cedar

As we wandered and wondered about the walls the farmer had created and why, we noticed other things we’ve somehow missed upon previous visits, including this northern white cedar tree.

a-stonewall fdn

In what today appears to be the middle of nowhere, a small foundation. House? Shed? Sugar shack?

a-red-belted polypore

We climbed a hill to see what was on the other side and found this red-belted polypore (Fomitopsis pinicola) growing on an Eastern white pine. In Lawrence Millman’s Fascinating Fungi of New England, he says this is “apparently not a picky fungus. F. pinicola has been recorded on more than 100 different species of tree hosts.”

a-stonewall last

The snow had softened since we first started so we did some slipping and sliding as we followed another stonewall back to the trail.

a-3 birch

And then my brain kicked into birch tree mode. These woods are filled with paper, gray and yellow birch. And next week, the GLLT will host a “Which Birch Is It?” walk about the birches and their relatives.

a-yellow bark

The ribbony curls and whorls of yellow birch bark are signatures of this tree that can change in color from silver to yellow to reddish brown and circle back to silver again in old age. Did you know that a yellow birch can live to 200 hundred years, unlike its cousins, the gray birch and paper birch? Gray birch live about fifty years and paper reach a ripe old age of somewhere between 50 and 150 years.

a-yellow 4

Another cool fact about yellow birches: the interior of dead branches begin to decay quickly, even while still on the tree; eventually reduced to mush, the trees rid themselves of these non-productive limbs quite easily with the help of wind. Look for tubes of outer bark  filled with rotting wood on the ground.

a-birch stitch

Also becoming visible as the snow melts, paper birch bark from downed trees. It seems curious that the lenticels resemble stitches, especially considering that Native American’s built sturdy, lightweight canoes from birch bark; the bark was stretched over a framework of white cedar, stitched together and sealed with pine or balsam resin. All the components exist in these woods.

a-tripe 1

Back on the trail, a few other things revealed themselves, including smooth rock tripe (Umbilicaria mammulata). No matter how many times I see this, it’s never the same old.

a-tripe 4

In great contrast to the smooth upper surface is the coarse pitch black of the underside reminding me of fresh tar–kind of like what town crews are using to fill pot holes right now.

a-tripe 3

The greenness of the upper side was witness to the melting snow.

a-liverwort

Similarly, lungwort displayed its dryer gray presentation because it lacked moisture.

a-heading out

As we continued down the Gallie Trail, bypassing the Homestead, it seemed that we were back in the land of the sameness.

a-speckled catkins 2

But . . . speckled alder, a member of the birch family, is about to come into its own. While the burgundy brown male catkins hang from the ends of twigs, smaller female catkins await the release of pollen.

a-speckled leaf

Speckled alders are pioneer species–that first step in natural transition of farm land or logged land back to forest. In this instance, it’s both of the former.

And that’s not its only claim to fame. Speckled alders are nitrogen fixers. Atmospheric nitrogen absorbed by bacteria live in nodules on the alder roots and change into a form of nitrogen plants can utilize as fertilizer, thus fertilizing fields that may have been depleted of nitrogen by years of farming. Its leaves are also rich in nitrogen, so when they fall they help to fertilize soil. For some reason, this one chose to hang on, but its moment will come. In the meantime, it offers grace in form and design.

a-gumdrop 2

Equally graceful, the hairy bracts and seed head of Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta) found near the parking lot.

It’s all always been here. It’s all the same, day in and day out and yet it’s all new. Change is the only constant–offering moments of wonder.

 

 

Leaping Mondate

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

My guy happens to be Irish so it seemed only appropriate that I propose to him today following the example that St. Brigid set when she struck a deal with St. Patrick. Yes, we’ve been married for 25+ years, but I proposed anyway.

And he accepted. So today’s Mondate found us at Roberts Farm Preserve in Norway. Norway, Maine, that is.

R-sign

In her book, Hikes and Woodland Walks in and around Maine’s LAKES REGION, my friend Marita Wiser states that the preserve was “farmed by the Pike and Roberts family for 200 years.” She adds, “The property was purchased by the Western Foothills Land Trust in 2007.”

r-parking

Though the trails are mostly maintained for Nordic skiers, we didn’t see any today.

r-trail map

Had it been open to skiers, we wouldn’t have been able to do what we did–follow the network of trails around the perimeter of the property.

r-cherry bark

We’d only walked a few feet when I had to pause–the burnt cornflake look of black cherry bark insisted upon being noticed.

R-Northern White Cedar

Visiting here a couple of times previously, one of the things I’d come to like about it is the opportunity to gush over Northern white cedar bark.

r-northern white bark2

I love its red-brown color, sheddy strips that intersect in diamond formations and habit of spiraling left and then right with age. In his book BARK, Michael Wojtech states of the cedar: “In the 1500s, the native Iroquois showed French explorers how to prevent scurvy using a tea made from the bark, which contains vitamin C. The name arborvitae means ‘tree of life.'”

r-northern white leaves

Equally beautiful are its flat sprays of braided, scale-like leaves.

Since I’m on the topic of tree bark, I have two others to share, including this one–the red inner bark of Northern Red Oak made a stunning statement.

r-hop hornbeam bark

Displaying its shaggy presentation was the hop hornbeam.

My heart leaped (appropriate movement for today) when I saw these papery fruits on the ground–hop hornbeam is named for its fruiting structures that resemble hops.

r-stone wall

Stone walls crisscross the preserve and provide evidence of its former use as a dairy farm.

r-barbed wire

Barbed wire adds to the story.

r-barbed wire grimace

Installed long ago, this tree formed a grimace in response.

r-large pine

Along the edge of some walls stand much happier trees–those that were allowed to grow tall and wide in the sun, like this Eastern white pine. Perhaps it provided a bit of shade for Roberts’ Jerseys.

r-generation gap

The land was farmed until 1968. Since then, it returned to woodland, was sold and logged and sold another time–finally to the land trust. Generational gaps are visible throughout. This is the perfect place to take some youngsters and ask them to locate a white pine that matches their age.

r-brook 2

We cross several streams that I’m sure sustained the farm and its inhabitants. Today, they sustain the wildlife that wanders here, including deer.

r-turkey trot

We realized there had been a recent turkey trot and

r-voles 1

vole convention.

r-pileated condo

Birds also have played a major role in this community. This pileated woodpecker-created condominium has been around for a while.

r-pileated pile

From the trail, I spied the largest pile of wood chips I’ve ever seen and of course, had to investigate.

r-pileated tree

The old beech was recently excavated for new condos.

r-pil pile 2

Below, the wood chip pile was a couple of inches deep.

r-pileated scat 1

r-pil scat 2

The best part–lots of scat cylinders filled with insect body parts. Good stuff to see.

r-birdhouse

Pileated woodpeckers aren’t the only ones in the building industry.

r-birdhouse sign

I think you’d agree that Quinn and Mike did a fabulous job constructing this birdhouse.

r-mullein capsules

In several open areas we spotted the winter display of common mullein.

r-mullein 2

Its crowded performance of two-parted capsules atop a tall, fuzzy stem made it easy to identify.

 

The pointed prickly bracts of thistles also offered a winter show.

r-lungwort on ash

Lungwort tried to hide on the backside of an ash tree, but I found it. I only wish we’d had rain, or better yet, snow, recently, because I love the neon green that it becomes once it is wet.

r-lunch rock

Be careful what you wish for. Though the day was sunny at the start, it began to rain as we ate our sandwiches on lunch rock overlooking Lake Pennesseewassee, aka Norway Lake.

r-lake 1

It wasn’t a downpour, but enough that it encouraged us to eat quickly and move on.

r-beaked bud

Well, I didn’t move far. Within steps, I found a shrub I was seeking yesterday–beaked hazelnut.

r-beaked hazel

It’s a member of the birch family and features catkins–the male flowers that will release pollen this spring to fertilize the shrub’s delicate red female flowers.

r-christmas fern

Another quick find–Christmas fern–one pinnae topped with a birch fleur de lis.

Typically, during the winter there is only one trail open to hikers. Today, however, we figured it would be OK to walk on the ski trails because they are either icy or bare. It was definitely a micro-spike kind of day, which has been more the norm this year.

r-painted cow

Other than birds and squirrels, we saw no wildlife. But we did stumble upon the “Painted Cows” created by Bernard Langlais in 1974 and gifted to the land trust by Colby College and the Kohler Foundation.

We had planned to explore the inner network of trails, but the cold raindrops drove us out. Despite that, I think my guy enjoyed himself as much as I did. And he was extremely patient each time I paused. Sometimes he even gave me a heads up–I took that to mean he didn’t mind that I had to stop, wonder and photograph. This is one Leap Date I hope we don’t forget.