Goodbye Spring, Hello Summer

June 20, 2015June 20, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

Sometimes the words slide out with little effort and other times, they seem to hide in the wings, waiting backstage. So it is on this last day of spring.

Whoa. Maybe I’m not sure what to write because I’m not ready for spring to end. I’m not sure spring is ready either–it was 44 degrees at 6 a.m. and even now, sitting in the shade, I’ve got goosebumps from the breeze..

But say goodbye to spring I must. I’ve spent the past two days savoring its final moments and mosaic colors. Along the way, I’ve seen some cool things.

I came across this ichneumon wasp on the base of a hemlock girdled by a beaver. Because of the long, needle-like ovipositor (that looks like a nasty stinger, but usually isn’t–though she is a wasp), I think this is a female. She’s possibly searching for a place to inject her eggs, which will then feed on other insect larvae.

As the season unfolded, I’ve been training my eyes to focus on leaf characteristics. This one is easy to pass off as a beech. But, its saw-blade teeth tell me to check below the leaves.

Beaked Hazelnut, a shrub that produces hairy husks containing the nut (think filbert) .

Double beaked. They grow singly or in groups up to ten or so.

Dangling like baubles, the fuzzy balls will entice squirrels, chipmunks, birds and yes, humans.

Sadly, not every part of the picture is pretty. The red pines at the summit of Pleasant Mountain are dying off. I spoke with a forester from the White Mountain National Forest about this today and his thought was that it might be red pine scale insects. Yeegads.

My first thought had been weather, but the trees below the summit have also been affected. It’s time for me to contact the state forester and ask his opinion.

The fertile fronds of the cinnamon fern have spread their spores and are now withering. Soon, I’ll have to search to find any evidence that they ever existed.

The same holds true of the interrupted fern, though the gap that will be left once the fertile middle pinnae fall off will be rather obvious.

Long white hairs top the tip of running clubmoss.

Candlelabras are forming, preparing to release numerous spores. Like the ferns above, it’s difficult for me to comprehend that this life form that creeps along the ground was once the size of trees. Mind boggling for this brain.

On to simpler things. A ladybird beetle.

Orange Hawkweed, aka Devil’s Paintbrush.

I think this is an Eastern pondhawk dragonfly, but if you know better, please tell me. My other thought–blue dasher. Either way, like all dragonflies, there’s beauty in its venation and color. Plus, those dragonfly eyes.

The Blue Flag Irises

are making a final statement,

while a great blue heron forages for fish near an abandoned beaver lodge.

Daisies speak to the season to come.

It’s only a day away . . . oops. A red leaf found today. What’s with that? Maybe the pine needle cast has all of nature confused.

Thanks for joining me on this last peak at spring. I’m looking north now as the summer solstice is on the horizon.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost :-)

June 10, 2015June 11, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

Today, I wandered along the boardwalks at Holt Pond Preserve in South Bridgton with Adam Perron, education director of Lakes Environmental Association, and Amy Kireta, a PhD student from UMaine. Amy plans to help Adam develop climate change curriculum for LEA. Exciting stuff.

We chatted as we walked, but frequently stopped to look and listen. Check out our finds.

Blue Flag Iris is beardless (no hairs on its petals), unlike the irises that grow in my garden.

The Sheep Laurel beginning to bloom. This is an interesting and beautiful plant, with its flowers blooming below the new leaves. I love how the leaves droop.

Another new bloom–the ball-shaped flower of Spatterdock.

Though our eyes were immediately drawn to the leaves of Fragrant Water Lilies with their pie-shaped notch, we could see a submerged blatterwort–one of the carnivorous plants of the preserve. They feature small blatters that act as vacuums and suck up tiny aquatic animals in order to take advantage of their nutrients.

Speaking of carnivorous plants . . . the Pitcher Plants are flowering.

The colors are enough to suck me in.

While the Pitcher Plants make themselves known in any season, another carnivorous plant barely announces its presence on the quaking bog.

The Round-leaf Sundew. Preferring the acidity of the spaghnum moss, the hairlike tentacles on each leaf are tipped with glistening droplets that shout a welcome message to passing insects. Those droplets are actually quite sticky and when the tendrils of hair detect that a prey has stopped by, they curl inward and wrap around the insect–then digest its nutrients.

There aren’t many nutrients in a spaghnum bog, so these plants have figured out how to meet their own needs–another reason to be in awe.

It’s stuff like this that makes me think J.R.R. Tolkien could have found inspiration right here.

Though we didn’t stray off the beaten path today, that is one of my favorite things to do. But I’m glad we backtracked rather than taking Amy back to the parking area via a different route because . . . we encountered another hiker who stopped to ask us some questions. As she talked, some things she said made me wonder if she was someone who recently commented on one of my blog posts. A friend in Connecticut has said since high school that I can be blunt (that’s you, C.W.N.) and I probably was today when I blurted out this woman’s name. I’m so glad I did. I was right–it was her. And I hope we can make a connection to wander together some time because it sounds like we have walked in each other’s tracks more than once.

I knew your car when I saw this, E.

Years ago, I paraphrased it. Wander and wonder. You never know what or who you might stumble upon.

Buzzin’ ‘Bout

June 5, 2015June 5, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

Air traffic control to Flight 233. Over.

Flight 233 approaching runway. Over.

Runway lights are on, Flight 233. Have a safe landing. Over.

OK, so I have no idea what a conversation between air traffic control and a pilot really is, but I do know that some plants have runways to guide pollinators. And by the way–233 on a phone=BEE.

Have you ever seen a more beautiful runway than the one on an iris?

With their banner, wings and keels, the pea-like structure of the lupine is different, but . . .

it’s a favorite for a variety of pollinators.

A nip of nectar

and a dash of pollen

makes for a happy bumblebee and a happy flower. The bee’s orange pollen basket is almost full.

Some wildflowers don’t need pollination to produce viable seeds, but when a visitor drops by for a sip, some pollen will attach to its fuzzy body and be transported to the next plant.

Notice the hairiness below the flower of the orange hawkweed–I’ve read that that’s an attempt to keep slow moving insects, like ants, from coming in for a treat–they prefer flying insects. Rather picky.

Though chive blossoms consist of numerous flowers that are perfect, in that they each have both male and female parts, they can’t self-pollinate because the stamen sheds pollen before the pistil is ready.

Thus, they depend on flying pollinators to deal with the timing issue.

Like the hobblebush I mentioned in earlier posts, the daisy consists of a ray of white sterile flowers surrounding a disk of yellow fertile flowers.

It had just opened today, but already is attracting attention.

So many different guiding lights. Thanks for buzzin’ ’bout with me on this nectar flight.

Never Call It Just A Dandelion

May 17, 2015May 19, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

I lent out my copy of a book by a similar title: Never Say It’s Just A Dandelion by Hilary Hopkins so I don’t have it in front of me to check her notes.

This field of dandelions that I saw at Viles Arboretum in Augusta during a Maine Master Naturalist field trip yesterday inspired me to take a closer look at the species that brightens our backyard.

While some green bracts turn downward to keep insects at bay, others protect the developing flower.

One ray at a time

it begins to open.

Notice how every ray is notched.

I brought one in to take a closer look at the notches. Each has five “teeth” representing a petal and forms a single floret.

Fully open, the bloom is a composite of numerous florets.

Each stigma splits in two and curls.

Bees and other insects seek the nectar.

A seed grows at the base and fine hairs form a parachute.

In time, the bloom closes up and then turns into a fluffy ball of seeds waiting for you or the wind to disperse them.

Though you may not be able to see it here, each seed is covered with tiny spikes that probably help it stick to the soil when it lands.

The yellow carpet will continue to change in our backyard

one seed at a time.

Who knew a Common Dandelion (Taraxacum officinal) could be something to wonder about? Emily Dickinson did:

The Dandelion’s pallid tube

Astonishes the Grass,
And Winter instantly becomes
An infinite Alas-

The tube uplifts a signal Bud
And then a shouting Flower,-
The Proclamation of the Suns
That sepulture is o’er.

Emily Dickinson

When I grow up . . .

May 15, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 1 Comment

I want to be like Ursula, my spritely little German friend who is a naturalist extraordinaire and loves to share her knowledge and stories.

Always with a smile.

I had the pleasure of being in her company today, after an hour of birding in Pondicherry Park,

where a Baltimore Oriole serenaded us.

On to Holt Pond for Ursula’s wildflower walk hosted by Lakes Environmental Association, as was the bird walk. Looking a bit like a disco ball is the blooming Dwarf Ginseng.

Though it isn’t in bloom yet, I saw lots more Indian Cucumber Root today and have a theory I’m questioning about this plant. I know that if it has only one level of leaves, it doesn’t flower or fruit. It needs that second deck to be productive. I’ve heard people say that when it has the second tier it is a two-year old plant, while the first level is a year old. Is that true? The Canada Mayflower, Bunchberry and Wild Oats all do the same. Does that mean that all the single leaves we see are one and all the doubles are two and none reach age 3? Or is it that some years some of these plants put more energy into producing sugar and thus are able to flower, like trees have mast years? And furthermore, am I making any sense?

So many flowers and so many of them white or creamy yellow, like these Highbush Blueberries.

Since we were crossing the Red Maple Swamp, I can’t resist showing their development.

Along the boardwalk that winds through the swamp, we saw this banjo player–a Green Frog. Some call it a Bronze Frog because more than half its body is bronze. Thus the need for those Latin names–Rana clamitans.

My friend, CC, squatted down to catch it.

And came away empty-handed. :-)

Who do you want to be when you grow up?

I pose the question to these crosiers.

Do you see the fuzzy brown wool coat they wear?

Close up.

Ever so slowly . . .

cinn 8

Their fronds begin to unfurl.

And soon we’ll know them as the Cinnamon Ferns they are becoming.

Continuing on, one of our leaders, Mary Jewett of LEA, spotted this rainbow around the sun.

As is always the case, our heads were bobbing up and down, trying to take in everything there was to see. Pitcher Plants pull us in every time. Well, not literally, thank goodness.

CC found this old Pitcher Plant seed pod.

We were on the quaking bog, a mass of sphagnum moss, flowering plants, shrubs and decaying vegetation that floats on the water. It looks safe to step onto, but . . . it too, would like to pull us in and preserve us for eternity.

Holt Pond–like all of us, it’s ever changing as it matures.

It’s Ursula’s energy and engaging personality that wow me every time we share moments wandering and wondering. I don’t want to be her, but it would be an honor to emulate her even a tiny bit.

May Day Celebration

May 1, 2015May 2, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 10 Comments

And just like that, it’s May. May Day. Memories of our sons quietly delivering flowers to neighbors and friends flashed through my mind this morning. I’ve a feeling they choose not to remember, but at the time they loved sneaking up to doors, depositing small baskets of flowers and then dashing away.

For me, the fun began this morning when I joined a small group intent on birding at the Bob Dunning Memorial Bridge. Chickadees, Red-winged Blackbirds, Pine Siskins, Waterthrush, Mallards, Yellow-rumped Warblers, Goldfinches and a few others were singing and flitting about.

The bridge, itself, is worth viewing from any vantage point.

And then I drove to Sweden (Sweden, Maine, that is) to join a couple of friends on a tramp through the woods.

Along the way, this May Day basket presented itself.

Moss covered rocks and stumps bring to mind my father and his Scottish heritage. The faeries or fair folk, as they prefer to be known, quietly present themselves in areas like this. Some day, I may share the fairy tale I wrote a few years ago.