Last weekend (before our latest snowstorm) I decided to look for signs of spring. What follows is some of what I found.
I started my search in a low, swampy area where hundreds of skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) plants grow. The plant smells just like its name suggests and I could smell them as I tiptoed through the snow, trying not to step on them.
I saw signs of life. Skunk cabbages are one of the earliest spring plants, and through a process called thermogenesis are able to generate temperatures far higher than the surrounding air. You can often see evidence of skunk cabbage having melted its way through several inches of solid ice.
The maroon thing with yellow-green splotches that looks like a tongue in the lower right corner is this year’s skunk cabbage flower (spathe), just starting to poke up out of the soil.
Script lichen (Graphis scripta) doesn’t have anything to do with spring except to remind me that soon it will be much harder to find lichens because of foliage. Script lichen grows on tree bark and is seems to be quite rare here. I’ve only seen two examples in my lifetime, but a lot of that could be because I forget to look for them. The dark lines that look like some type of strange cuneiform writing are the apothecia, or fruiting bodies of this crustose lichen. These were much larger on this example than on the other one that I found.
The terminal buds of shagbark hickory (Carya ovate) are quite large and can fool you into thinking that they are swelling because of spring sap flow but no, they are this way all winter. We have to have several sunny days above freezing to trigger sap flow, so it’ll be awhile yet before buds really start to swell.
I loved all the movement and texture in these American hazelnut seed pods. Hazelnuts (Corylus Americana) are usually snapped up quickly by bears, squirrels and other animals but in this spot I could have collected pockets full of them. It makes me wonder why the animals aren’t eating them.
The tasty hazelnuts are also called filberts. Each one is about as big in diameter as an M&M candy. It’s strange to see them this late in the year.
Native evergreen marginal wood fern (Dryopteris marginalis) gets its common name from the way its spore cases or fruit dots (sori) grow on the margins of the leaflets (pinnules). These ferns grow new sori on fertile fronds each spring and release their spores in July and August. The sori are no bigger than a match head.
On marginal wood fern the sporangia inside the spore cases are covered by a membranous cover called an indusium or fruit cover. When the sporangia are ripe they push this cover off so the tiny, dust like spores can be released. This only happens on a dry day when there is a dry breeze so the spores might be carried as far from the parent plant as possible. Some ferns, like polypody (Polypodium vulgare), lack indusia and have naked spore cases. The fiddleheads of this fern are covered with golden brown scales and are among the first to appear in spring.
This example of a tinder polypore (Fomes fomentarius), also called horse hoof fungus, looked ancient but probably isn’t that old. This bracket fungus produces spores at all times of year but through spring and summer studies have shown that as many as 800 million can be produced in a single hour. The fungus is also known for its ability to stop bleeding and was recommended for that purpose by none other than the father of medicine himself, Hippocrates (460 – 370 BCE).
If you see a tree with what looks like fine, lacy, brown or purplish spots all over its trunk a closer look might show the spots to be Frullania eboracensis liverworts. This is the only liverwort in this region that can stand a dry environment. It is considered a northern species and is quite common here. I find it on maples and oaks. Though the one in the photo is dime sized they can get to the size of a grapefruit.
Frullania eboracensis liverworts are considered leafy liverworts. The above photo shows how the almost microscopic, zipper like, zig zagging leaves overlap. Not seen are the sac like lobes on their undersides. The leaves radiate outward from a central point and become very dark in winter, lightening as the air temperature warms. Quite a few lighter colored ones can be seen here, so maybe they feel spring in the air.
Last time I visited this willow it had one catkin showing, but on this day there were many. I haven’t been able to figure out which willow it is yet, but its catkins are quite small. Male catkins appear much earlier than female catkins, so there’s a good chance that these are male.
Spring might seem like it’s far off but if you go by nature rather than the calendar, you can see it happening right now.
Even in the winter, in the midst of the storm, the sun is still there. Somewhere above the clouds, it still shines and warms and pulls at the life buried deep inside the brown branches and frozen earth. ~Gloria Gaither
Thanks for stopping in.
Just discovered your blog, as I was doing research on lichens. I love your photographs. You seem to be drawn to nature as I am.
I visit New England every summer for an amateur telescope maker’s convention and am envious of your winters! I’m working on getting to know the world of lichens, which as a beginner in that arena, seems to be a daunting task!
Thank you for your inspiration!
You’re welcome Brenda, and thank you. Lichen Identification is fun and very rewarding for me. I sometimes highlight the difficulties I run into on this blog but very many lichens are easy to identify, so I hope you won’t give up. You’ll learn a lot!
Wonderful to have come across your blog where you so generously share your wealth of knowledge of local flora!
Thank you for visiting. I’m glad you enjoyed it and hope to see you again.
[…] are bought, and her fingers are tingling to get in the soil. Closer to home, Keene, NH blogger New Hampshire Garden Solutions, posted photos of skunk cabbage emerging through the ice and snow, something I didn’t expect […]
[…] post about searching for signs of spring in New England after their extremely harsh winter so far (Signs of spring). I commented (well grumbled really) that I’d seen no signs of spring in Shetland and I was […]
Hazelnuts are my favourites. I found some near Otterbourne on the Itchen Navigation and meant to go back to collect them. Unfortunately it’s been too wet to go that way so I missed my chance. Here the plants and trees have been thinking it might be spring for a long time, we’ve had such a warm wet winter.
I like hazelnuts but my favorite is cashews. I hope you don’t see any more flooding. Maybe the hazelnuts will still be there when it dries out.
Fascinating as always. The horse hoof fungus the most interesting and useful to me. Will have to keep my eyes out for it. The layers make me think it has growth spurts.
Thanks Grampy. Yes, this fungus can grow for as long as 30 years and new growth comes from the bottom each year, so the lowest layer is always the youngest.
Very surprising that the hazelnuts were left uneaten, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.
It is surprising-I’ve never found them this late in the year. The location is out of the way so animals shouldn’t have a problem there.
Lovely ode to the coming of spring. This year I haven’t even thought to go out and look for signs yet. I bet they are there though.
I’d bet they are too. That sunshine is getting warmer everyday.
That it is. It’s nice that it’s not getting dark in the middle of the afternoon any more. Definitely turned the corner.
I had no idea skunk cabbage came up this early. I’ll have to find time (and soon) to go out looking for some.
Skunk Cabbage is probably the first spring flower here, but I didn’t really expect to see it until the end of February. Next will be coltsfoot and hepatica.
Nice photos, interesting information, as usual. I look out the window thinking there is nothing going on in that vast whiteness, but you always manage to find something.
Thanks Sue. Sometimes you just have to want it bad enough to do a little digging and a little walking.
Learned a lot as usual. I’ve never heard of script lichen and doubt we have it here. I plan to find out. Enjoyed!!
Thanks! Script lichens aren’t even in my lichen books so I’m not sure if you have them or not. You’re liable to find a bunch of other interesting things while you look for them though, so it should be fun.
Feels like we’re going to have ice for a long time. ugh
I hope not!
I wouldn’t have expected you to have had any signs of spring yet. Here, in the Charente Maritime we have had no winter yet, everybody is getting a bit nervy wondering when it will arrive.
We had a winter like that 2 or 3 years ago and it was very strange, but also nice to not have to deal with the cold.
I think at this stage you’ll be better off if you don’t see any cold. It might damage plants and trees if it comes now.
If it comes (and it always has) there will be a lot of damage, I’d have thought plants and trees would be a lot more savvy to the day length.
Day length does affect them but there are few plants that won’t continue growing if there isn’t any cold weather to stop them. Even tomatoes will try to grow year round.
OH yes Pussy Willows are a sure sign the days get longer and the nasty real cold of Dec and Jan are behind us. Now over here I have snow and more snow and the river mostly ice covered but I had a Bald Eagle sweep through my piece of land all is good since he kept going 🙂
It’s still pretty cool here-we saw 5 below zero this morning. But, the sunshine is getting much warmer and spring is happening in spite of the cold.
I know you are right we were in single digits last night and it does look gorgeous out I will be happy for a week of 30’s 🙂
Me too!
🙂
You found some signs of spring, though most of them are so subtle that I am pretty confident that I would not have detected them. I really enjoyed your explanations of all your different finds. As others have noted, it’s a real education for us.
Thanks Mike. It’s true that early signs of spring are subtle so you do have to look closely to find them. I just had to convince myself that it really was happening!
I’m glad to pass on what I’ve learned and happy that you and others are getting something out of it.
Your signs of spring are promising! I had no idea there was so much to know about skunk cabbage. I remember it well as a child, being fascinated by the texture and odor. How cool to learn it can actually create heat!
Thank Martha. Yes, there are many plant that have an internal furnace. It really is a fascinating thing to think about.
Thank you for the weekly botany lesson professor Norcross. 😉
I’ve been seeing and hearing a few early signs of spring as well, we just have to hang in there a few more weeks, and it will be here, I hope.
Always glad to pass on what I’ve learned Jerry. I get anxious for spring to hurry up and get here at this time of year, so I have to get out there and take a peek, just to make sure.
[…] Visit link: Searching for Signs of Spring […]
Springtime may be almost here in New England Allan but I’ve seen no evidence of it yet in Shetland. So I’m relying on you to keep me abreast of all things natural as the season changes. Thanks.
I wonder if they get the same seasonal changes in Shetland. It seems like weather would be greatly influenced by the ocean there.
Yes the ocean does greatly influence the islands; they’re on the same latitude as southern Greenland but have a much milder climate. Near the spring equinox day length will be changing by about eight minutes every day and spring then comes on with a rush. Summer is never warm but the long day length makes up for it.
That sounds fantastic. I’d love it if we gained 8 minutes per day here, but I’m not sure I’d want everything else that goes along with it!
Maybe we should have skunk cabbage day instead of groundhog day! Happy you found signs of spring, I, for one, have had my fill of winter!
Speaking of the groundhog, how did he see his shadow when it was raining? I’m also tired of winter this year. It’s 5 below this morning!
It’s a real education reading your blog, thank you.
Thank you Susan. I know that you folks in London aren’t having to look very far for signs of spring this year.