I finally saw some crocus blossoms on Easter morning. They bloom in what was once a flower bed by a now vacant print shop and I was very happy to see them. Passers by might have wondered what I was doing kneeling there in the leaf strewn soil beside a busy street rather than on a prie dieu on Easter morning, but what better way to show your appreciation of the artist than by losing yourself in the beauty of his art.
The spring blooming witch hazels (Hamamelis) in a local park have finally blossomed. I’ve been watching them for about two weeks and have noticed that they’ve been really shy about opening this year.
I went to see if the Cornelian cherry (Cornus mas) that lives near the witch hazels was blooming yet, but instead of flowers I got feathers. The bud scales have started opening though, so it won’t be long. This ancient plant is from Europe and is in the dogwood family and I look forward to seeing its small, bright yellow blossoms.
The brown and purple bud scales on the male catkins of speckled alders (Alnus incana) are opening wider to show the flowers beneath. These scales are on short stalks and surround a central axis. There are three flowers beneath each scale, each with a lobed calyx cup and three to five stamens with anthers covered in yellow pollen. If you watch them closely at this time of year you can see more of the yellow pollen appearing each day.
The skunk cabbages (Symplocarpus foetidus) seem to be doing really well this year. The clumps are larger with more plants and there are more clumps in this spot than I’ve seen in the past. The green shoots seen in front of the mottled spathes in this photo are future leaves which, for a short time as they begin to unfurl, will resemble cabbage leaves. You wouldn’t want to taste them though, even if you could get past the skunk like odor, because the plant contains calcium oxalate crystals which can cause a severe burning sensation of the mouth and tongue. Deer and black bears seem to be about the only ones immune to it. Another good reason to not eat skunk cabbage is because the very deadly false hellebore (Veratrum viride) often grows right beside it. Personally I don’t know why anyone would want to eat skunk cabbage but if you don’t know how to tell it from false hellebore it’s best to just leave both plants alone.
Like most arums, inside the spathe is the spadix, which in the case of skunk cabbage is a one inch round, often pink or yellow stalked flower head from which the small flowers emerge. The flowers don’t have petals but do have four yellowish sepals. The male stamens grow up through the sepals and release their pollen before the female style and pistil grow out of the flower’s center to catch any pollen that visiting insects might carry from other plants. The spadix carries most of the skunk like odor at this stage of the plant’s life, and it is thought that it uses the odor to attract flies and other early spring insects. Some describe the odor as rotting meat but it always smells skunky to me.
I’ve been seeing more yellow green skunk cabbage spathes this year than I ever have. I’m not sure what determines their color but the yellow ones appear right beside the darker red / maroon ones, so it doesn’t seem like it would be anything in the soil or water.
Here in northern New England we have a fifth season that we call mud season, and it is now upon us. I heard on the news the other day that the mud is 12-16 inches deep in parts of the state, but I haven’t seen it that bad here yet except on logging roads. Quite often the mud gets bad enough to close unpaved roads and the logging industry virtually grinds to a halt until things dry out. When the frost is 3 or 4 deep in the ground and the top two feet of a road thaws the melt water is sitting on frozen ground and has nowhere to go, and this results in a car swallowing quagmire that acts almost like quicksand. Those who live on unpaved roads have quite a time of it every year at this time.
Brittle cinder fungus (Kretzschmaria deusta) starts life as a beautiful soft gray crust fungus with white edges. As they age they blacken and look like burnt wood and become very brittle and are easily crushed. They grow on dead hardwoods and cause soft rot, which breaks down both cellulose and lignin. In short, this is one of the fungi that help turn wood into compost. Younger examples have a hard lumpy crust or skin, a piece of which can be seen in the upper left of the example in the photo.
Here is a photo from last June which shows how beautiful the brittle crust fungus is when it’s young. It’s hard to believe that it’s the same fungus that’s in the previous photo.
Annulohypoxylon cohaerens fungi like beech trees (Fagus grandifolia) and that’s where I always find them. They start life brown and mature to a purplish black color, and always remind me of tiny blackberries. Each small rounded growth is about half the diameter of a pea and their lumpy appearance comes from the many nipple shaped pores from which the spores are released. They were one of the hardest things to identify that I’ve ever found in nature and I wondered what they could be for a few years. They have no common name that I can find.
Since I’m color blind I often confuse red and green so even though this aspen bud looked red to me by the time I got home I’d convinced myself that it had to have been green. Once I saw the photo it still looked red, so as usual I let my color finding software have the final say and it sees orange, brown and red. I never knew aspen buds were so colorful, and it seems that I just haven’t been paying attention. I think the tree was a bigtooth aspen (Populus grandidentata) which gets its common name from the sharply pointed teeth on its leaves.
I was surprised recently to see a great blue heron hunting last year’s cattails (Typha) in a small pond beside the road. I knew if I made a move he’d fly away, so I took this shot through my passenger window. Most of the larger lakes and ponds are still ice covered, so I think he’s a little early. I’ve heard red winged blackbirds but no frogs yet, so he’ll probably have a fish diet for a while.
Away from the tumult of motor and mill
I want to be care-free; I want to be still!
I’m weary of doing things; weary of words
I want to be one with the blossoms and birds.
~Edgar A. Guest
Thanks for coming by.
Beauty, beauty everywhere. Is there no escape? (As this one might wish to do so. I think not, 🙂 ) Thank you for revealing portions of it. Much appreciated.
You’re welcome Ben. There just doesn’t seem to be any escaping beauty. I find it just about everywhere I go.
I’ve learned ng since stopped worrying what people think when I criuch down to take a photo of a flower or some other interesting thing I see by the side of the road. I’m pleased to see your crocuses out at last but the mud seems a high price to pay.
I don’t worry about what others think when I’m taking photos either. If they’re interested they can ask, and many do.
If you’ve grown up in New England then mud season is just another part of life-a bother that will end eventually, like rush hour traffic.
thank you for identifying the fungus on the beech – I’d been wondering what that was!
You’re welcome Stephanie. I wondered what it was for years too.
I love the circus and the knowledge that they are so welcome everywhere they pop up. Good to see things starting to wake up in your area now too. Here we are just about past the mud season already. It’s called “Spring break-up” here and some roads are closed, others are posted with weight restrictions.
Yes, those crocus blooms certainly were welcomed this year. I’m hoping to see more soon.
That’s interesting about your spring break up. I thought we New Englanders were the only ones who had to go through that!
I love the quote you chose! I’m just grateful with all the snow we had that the thaw has been gentle enough that we’re not dealing with flooding basements on top of mud season. I have not made it down to my swamp yet, but the red winged blackbirds have arrived and I spotted a wood duck and Canada goose with my binoculars from my kitchen window! No peepers yet!
Thank you Jocelyn. I agree, we don’t need anymore flooding in this area either.
I’d get down to that swamp! There’s no telling what you might see at this time of year. I’ve heard the red winged blackbirds but haven’t seen any yet. I did see an immature bald eagle at the Branch River in Marlborough the other day though. I haven’t heard any spring peepers yet either but it sounds like this weekend might get them going. I hope!
The witch hazel looks very beautiful and feels like a nice sign of the changing seasons.
Yes, they are beautiful shrubs and such a welcome sight after what seems a very long winter.
Nice catch of the heron! As for your five seasons, here we say there are just two seasons: Winter and Road Repair.
Thanks! I can understand looking at it as two seasons, though the road repair part is a bit sluggish in these parts.
It is nice to see the vegetation starting off again after the snow. I feel you will see a different spring this year after so much snow and for such a long time. Amelia
Thank you Amelia. Yes, spring is having a hard time getting going this year. We just got more snow last night, in fact. Just a dusting, but cold too.
The transformation of the Brittle cinder fungus is remarkable, you’d never think that the two photos were of the same thing.
The section about mud season brings back memories, so fond, some not so fond, of times that we visited relatives who lived on dirt roads during spring thaw. All the area farmers kept a chain attached to their tractors to pull stuck cars out of the mud, once or twice, it was us.
I’m with you, what better way to celebrate Easter than to be out in God’s creation, thanking Him for all the beauty He has given us, if we take the time to see it!
I agree Jerry. I never would have guessed that I was looking at the same fungus if it wasn’t for my mushroom books.
I’m sure you’ve never forgotten being stuck in that mud. These days you can’t get a wrecker to pull you out because they’re afraid they’ll get stuck too. Somebody with a tractor would be really welcome in these parts!
I’ve got nothing against churches but worship can happen anywhere at any time.
I don’t envy you your mud season! That aspen bud is such a glorious colour and I’m glad you found some crocuses to photograph.
Thank you Clare. I was really surprised by the color of that bud.
Mud season is something we get used to, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get through!
It snowed some last night so I doubt that I’ll see any crocus today, but they are trying.
Your snow is going on and on! I hope it disappears quickly.
I hope so too. Winter just doesn’t want to let go this year. I summer makes up for it when it gets here.
It had better!!
Wonderful post! That would be me, too, kneeling in the dirt on the side of the road taking a picture. It’s snowing and sleeting as I type in my part of New Hampshire, and I hear it’s going to 70 Monday! That’ll get mud season into full swing. 🙂
Thank you Paula. If I see a flower I’m kneeling and I don’t pay much attention to where I am or who is watching. We’ve had flurries here but nothing serious. I’m ready for 70 degrees! That should bring on the coltsfoot, spring beauties and trout lilies too.
There are many things that you see that I wish that we could see over here but I am prepared to make an exception for the skunk cabbage.
I think they’re fascinating things but of course I grew up with them, so I’m used to them.
Amazing pictures. Glad to see the skunk cabbage since it doesn’t grow in our warm climate.
Thanks! Interesting how so many plants stopped their westward progression in your area.
Interesting. I hadn’t thought of it that way.
Love seeing your photographs of Spring awakening in the Northeast.
Thank you Mary. Spring has been slow in coming this year but I think that it’s finally here.
Reblogged this on Dawn of Divine Rays.
Thank you Agnes. I hope all is well with your husband.
Love the interior shot of the skunk cabbage. And, thanks for the warning, but it has NEVER occurred to me to eat any!
As always, your photos are gorgeous, and I learned something new.
Thank you Judy. I agree, eating them is not something that I think of when I see (and smell) skunk cabbage! Some people do try, but why is beyond me.
Not too far away in Brattleboro, VT, things are in a similar state. Red-winged blackbirds last week, a pair of bluebirds this weekend, eagles on the river, and the turkey vultures (about 20 of them) returned to their home roost in the white pines near our house. Still haven’t seen any skunk cabbage or witch hazel blooming though! Soon…
Our native witch hazels (Hamamelis virginiana) bloom in the fall so the only place that you’ll find a spring blooming plant is probably a park or someone’s yard, but how great to see bluebirds! They’re something I never see and I’m glad to hear that they’re so nearby.
I haven’t seen any vultures yet but I did see an immature eagle hunting a river yesterday. Of course as soon as I stopped to get his photo, he was gone.
I thought as much (about the witch hazel); I didn’t realize that the spring variety was an exotic, I thought perhaps an anomaly. We have a flowering cherry in our yard that bloomed late last fall – it was tricked in the warm spell we had in late November. Gulls returned up the CT River as well, this past week, ring-billed or herring – I couldn’t tell from the distance.
We do have a native spring blooming witch hazel in the U.S. , which is Hamamelis vernalis, but it doesn’t grow this far north naturally. Whenever I see one I automatically think that it must have been planted.
I’ll have to get over to the Connecticut River one day. There used to be fairly good access in Hindsdale but I don’t know if that’s still true or not.
Yay, Spring is springing! Where do you find the skunk cabbage, I’ve always wanted to see them before they leaf out?
I find the skunk cabbages in a big swamp near the Keene Airport, Laura. The easiest way for you to find them would be to park in the airport parking lot and walk through the gate to the wastewater treatment plant. Once you’re through that gate you’ll see a culvert that goes under the road. On the left, immediately after the culvert and down on the edges of the swampy area, there are too many skunk cabbages to count. They aren’t very big but they’re easy to see. If you step on one you’ll know that you’ve found the spot for sure!
Thank you
It’s great to see the signs of spring there in New Hampshire. We’re probably a month or so ahead of you, but gradually, as you show so well, Allen, spring is transforming the landscape. It’s wonderful too to see that a Great Blue Heron is back.
Thanks Mike. Yes, spring is really here, even though you wouldn’t know it with the gray skies we have today.
It was great to see the blue heron but his feeding places are limited right now. We still have a lot of ice covered water.
Lovely to see the signs of Spring. I very much admired your photograph of the Brittle Crust Fungus, a splendid abstract design.
Thank you Susan. I thought that brittle crust fungus was really beautiful last year when I found it. Maybe it was its abstract qualities that appealed to me, too.
Methinks the title of this post should have been “Cabbages and Things”. But only because I find the skunk cabbage to be an interesting animal — oops, plant.
What is its purpose, do you know? It must have a purpose, other than stinking up the joint.
I don’t really know its purpose Cynthia. Maybe it’s just here to make us more curious about the natural world, and that’s a good thing!
Really wonderful series of photos and write up ~ would love to be able to see and experience all of this, and even the mud-season could be fun (those are the times I never will was my car, wear the mud like a badge of honor!). Cheers!
Thank you. Maybe some day you’ll have a chance to visit New England.
There are people who love to drive in mud season and you can usually tell them by their muddy vehicles! You have to be careful though, because if you stop in the wrong spot your car can sink into the mud right up to the floor boards.
I’d love to head back (was there when I was young, about 20 years ago) in Maine…incredible hiking and enjoyed the lifestyle.
It is a nice place to grow up, that’s for sure!