Easter in the Woods
April 18, 2020 by New Hampshire Garden Solutions

On Easter Sunday I went for a walk along the Ashuelot River in Keene. This trail, possibly used by Native Americans for thousands of years, is one of my favorites. 12 Native American historical sites have been found along the Ashuelot River, including the oldest known evidence of humans in New Hampshire dating back 10,500 years. I’ve walked here for over 50 years and think I know it well, but I see new things each time I visit.

This day’s new thing were these strange orange buds on the shrubs that the river had swamped.

At least I thought they were buds; they’re actually the male catkins of the sweet gale (Myrica gale.) Sweet gale is also called bog rosemary. It likes to grow on the banks of acidic lakes, bogs and streams. Touching the foliage releases a sweet, pleasant scent from its resinous leaves which have been used for centuries as a natural insect repellent. Though it is a native plant here it also grows native in Europe, where it is used as an ingredient in beer making in some countries. It is also used in an ointment used to treat sensitive skin and acne. I was hoping to see some of the scarlet female flowers but I think I was too early.

The banks of the Ashuelot are lined with highbush blueberries (Vaccinium corymbosum) and their buds had swollen to bursting, easy to see against the blue of the water. The highbush blueberry is a native plant that you can quite literally find just about anywhere in this part of the state.

The bud scales have opened and, though I didn’t see any leaves yet, I think it’s safe to say that bud break has happened among the blueberries.

Bud break is defined as “when the green tip of a leaf can be seen emerging from the bud,” and these new cherry leaves more than fit that description. You can see how the bud scales have curled and peeled back to release the new growth within.

The stamens of male box elder flowers (Acer negundo) hang down from the buds on long filaments and sway in the breeze. Box elder is in the maple family but its wood is soft when compared to other maples. Several Native American tribes made syrup from its sap and the earliest example of a Native American flute, dating from 620-670 AD, was made from its wood, so it seems appropriate that the trees would grow here along the river.

I saw two turtles on a log but my camera doesn’t have enough reach for anything better than this. As soon as I hit the trail the sun went behind a cloud and stayed there the whole time, so the turtles were gone when I returned. Of course as soon as I left the trail the sun came back out.

The trail through these woods isn’t that far from where the railroad repair depot used to be in Keene, and the trail is black because it was “paved” with the unburned slag from the big steam locomotive fireboxes.

This slag is usually called “clinkers” or “clinker ash” and it is made up of pieces of fused ash and sulfur which often built-up over time in a hot coal fire. Firebox temperature reached 2000 to 2300 degrees F. in a steam locomotive but they still didn’t burn the coal completely. A long tool called a fire hook was used to pull the clinkers out of the firebox and in Keene we must have had tons of the stuff, because it was used as ballast on many local railroad beds. The section that ran by my house was as black as coal and I learned at a very young age not to walk barefoot on it. Those clinkers are sharp.

When a spring beech bud (Fagus grandifolia) grows longer and starts to curl like a rainbow it is getting ready to open. The buds I saw this day have a while to go but you can see the curl starting. The curling begins when the sun shining on one side of the bud causes the cells on that side of the bud to grow faster than those on the other, shaded side. This causes tension in the bud, making it curl first and eventually making it tear open its bud scales, releasing the new growth within. When beech buds break the new growth looks like downy, silvery angel wings for just a very short time. It’s one of the most beautiful things in the forest and well worth watching for.

The roots of this young beech caught my eye.

And the thorns of this multiflora rose caught my clothes. Invasive multiflora rose (Rosa multiflora) originally came from China to be used as an ornamental and as the old story goes, almost immediately escaped and started to spread rapidly. It grows over the tops of shrubs and smothers them by using all the available sunshine. I’ve even seen it reach thirty feet into trees. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was imported more for its scent than any other reason, because to smell it is like smelling a bit of heaven on earth.

The hips of a multiflora rose are about the size of a pea, so that should tell you something about the size of that spider.

The fuzzy white buds of shadbush (Amelanchier canadensis) were seen here and there along the banks of the river. Shadbushes originally got their name from the way they bloomed when the shad fish were running upriver to spawn, including here in the Ashuelot. Another name, Juneberry, refers to when its fruit ripens. The fruit is said to resemble a blueberry in taste, with a hint of almond from the seeds. Shadbush wood is brown, hard, close-grained, and heavy. It can also be very straight, and Native Americans used it for arrow shafts. Shadbush makes an excellent garden shrub or small tree and is easily found in nurseries. It grows naturally at the edge of forests and along waterways.

The bark peeled off an old dead birch and revealed a bright orange fungus.

I thought I’d found something on a tree that I had been looking for for a very long time; an asterisk lichen (Arthonia radiata.)

But it was a common script lichen (Graphis scripta.) it is also called the secret writing lichen, for obvious reasons. I’ve never been able to decipher their meaning but I enjoy seeing them.

One of the reasons I wanted to come out here was to see if the trout lilies that live here were blooming. They weren’t but the plants looked very robust and healthier than those I’ve seen in other places. I have a feeling this colony will be beautiful when they all are in bloom.

This trout lily leaf came up through one of last year’s leaves so it couldn’t unfurl. Which leaf will win, I wondered.

The trout lilies grow by the little red bridge, which is my turnaround spot.

In July you can step over what is little more than a trickle in this spot and I’ve always wondered why they even put a bridge here, but on this day it was like someone had made a wide path of black marble for it to cross. This stream and many others empty into the Asuelot River, and that might be why the name means “collection of many waters” in Native American language.

Well, I didn’t see many flowers but I did see a lot of other things that brought me closer to spring; especially the swelling buds of many trees. I hope all of you are able to get outside and find a bit of spring for yourself and I hope you’ll be able to be able to stay safe while doing so.
If you have a river, then you should share it with everyone. Chen Guangbiao
Thanks for stopping in.
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Posted in Nature, Things I've Seen | Tagged Ashuelot River, Beech Buds, Boston and Maine Railroad, Box Elder Flowers, Canon EOS Rebel T6, Cherry Bud Break, Clinkers, Early Spring Plants, Highbush Blueberry Buds, Keene, Lichens, Multiflora Rose, Native Plants, Nature, New Hampshire, NH, Olympus Stylus TG-870, Script Lichen, Shad Bush, Spring, Sweet Gale Flowers, Yellow Trout Lily | 31 Comments
We have two Shadbush(es) in our garden, though for some reason they are known by their latin name of Amelanchier in this country. The blossom has already come and gone and the leaves are maturing nicely. I have never eaten the berries because the birds beat me to it every year!
I enjoyed seeing all your buds and leaves and views from the track.
Thank you Clare. Plants go by a lot of different names, that’s for sure!
I’ve never eaten the berries from a shadbush either but I’ve heard from several people that they’re very good.
Beautiful pics 🧚🏻♀️
Thanks!
Some of our paths used to be paved with clinker from mill boilers in the old days. It is missed now and the paths grow muddy.
That’s true, none of the paths with clinkers get muddy here.
I enjoyed this tour through your woods again, Allen, especially seeing the turtles. I remember seeing many of them growing up. Now I hardly ever see one.
Your bog rosemary, Myrica gale, is a new one to me, and I looked it up to see if it grows here. There is another plant here by the same common name available here in Oregon for landscaping, Andromeda polifolia. OSU calls Myrica gale “Bog Myrtle”. That one is native here.
https://landscapeplants.oregonstate.edu/plants/andromeda-polifolia
https://landscapeplants.oregonstate.edu/plants/myrica-gale
Thank you Lavinia. Odd that you don’t see turtles. I hope that isn’t some kind of sign!
I’m sorry for the confusion over the sweet gale. I don’t know why I typed “rosemary” instead of “myrtle” but Myrica gale is its name.
“Clinker!” always reminds me of Ralphie’s father in A Christmas Story. 🙂
Thank you Cathy. I’ve never watched that movie from start to finish but I do remember parts of it, and that’s one of them. Their furnace must have run really hot!
So many species of amelanchier and so many names, but they all make a delicious “spread,” as though apple butter had been mixed with balsamic vinegar. Good on vanilla ice cream. I harvest it from trees planted in hedgerows years ago on an island in the St. Lawrence River. I’ve often walked on former rail lines in your region and have brought home quite a few clinkers. Loved reading about their genesis and composition – I thought they were partially burned pieces of coal. They are indeed very heavy and sharp! Lovely photos, as always.
Thank you Karen, I also thought clinkers were partially burned pieces of coal until I had to explain what they were on this blog. I learned more about them than I really needed to know but a little knowledge never hurts!
I’ve never actually eaten amelanchier fruits but I have heard that they are tasty. Here I’d have to fight off flocks of cedar waxwings to get at them, because they love them. They actually nest in areas where they grow so they can more easily get at them.
Hi Allen! You are certainly following Chen Guangbiao’s admonition! I probably know more about the lovely Ashuelot River (and have seen it in more of its seasons) than any river in my own area. Shame on me, I know… In some things we must live vicariously!
Thank you Ginny, I have no idea what you mean about Chen Guangbiao’s admonition but I’m glad I’m following it. I think.
You really should visit your rivers. There is so much life to be seen along a river bank and as you can probably tell, it’s one of my favorite places to search for it!
Perhaps “urges” or “enjoins” would have been better verbs? In using admonish, I guess I was thinking “strongly encourages”. Didn’t mean to leave you scratching your head, Allen 😊. I’ve explored the Potomac R. in conjunction with the C&O Canal, and the Shenandoah R. around Harper’s Ferry but only in spring, summer, and fall (and not in recent years). I’m more enchanted with nature in my own back yard!
Since I don’t know who Chen Guangbiao is or what he said it wouldn’t have mattered. More power to him, whoever he is.
True, there is plenty of nature to see right in our own yards but I like to see the herons, ducks and beavers along the river as well. It doesn’t matter where you are though, because nature is always there too!
I was referring to the quote you have at the end of this post… Am I losing my mind???
Oh sorry, I didn’t make the connection! I often have to scroll down to the quote I used to see what people are referring to, but this time I didn’t even have sense enough to do that!
I have been enjoying your posts for many years now. Just wanted to say thank you. The highlight of my email inbox! Laura Doell
On Sat, Apr 18, 2020, 4:08 AM New Hampshire Garden Solutions wrote:
> New Hampshire Garden Solutions posted: ” On Easter Sunday I went for a > walk along the Ashuelot River in Keene. This trail, possibly used by Native > Americans for thousands of years, is one of my favorites. 12 Native > American historical sites have been found along the Ashuelot River, > including t” >
You’re welcome Laura and thank you very much for being such a loyal reader. I’m happy to hear that you like what you see here. I do hope you can see it all in person as well!
I attempted to post an experience I had with ordinary plantain, one subject of your blog a few back…For some reason, tech glitch I suppose, I wasn’t able. Anyway, its a remarkable, underused “weed”, so commonly available in our poison free lawns.
I was visiting my daughter in northern California, developed a nasty rash, soon identified as poison oak. We went to the local herbalist who grabbed a handful from her yard, instructed my to chew it into a paste, and spread the result on the affected area, Did, done, rash completely gone literally in minutes!
I always appreciate your mention of natural Native American” Rx” remedies. Thank you. Bet the plantain was one, and probably used for many other problems. I’ll test it on my first mosquito bite of Summer, 2020!
Thank you Lynne. WordPress has some strange restrictions, like not being able to send a photo from the “contact me” page, so that might be why.
That’s interesting about the plantain. I would bet that Native Americans knew all about it! I’ll have to try it. I work outside so I get into a lot of itchy situations!
The names of the lichen are as fascination as the images you provide! I hope you will someday find the asterisk lichen; I can only guess what that looks like. Burt for now, the common script lichen suggests an exciting scene. Little hungry bats moving out en masse at that fleeting moment when dusk becomes night.
The secret writing on a tree becomes a small movie. Thank you
Thank you Lynne. Plant names have always fascinated me because while some are spot on and describe the plant well others miss the mark.
Asterisk likens look just like the asterisk on your keyboard, so that name makes perfect sense. It’s a very pretty and unusual lichen.
Script lichens come in many different forms but you’re right; this one did look like bats flying!
It is often said “to know the flowers is to know the plant,” but you take identification a step farther by knowing the buds.
Very interesting about the the unburnt clinkers. Will they still burn many years later?
Are you supposed to wear a mask when you are out on a plant hike and do you? Some states and cities require it, which I think is all very silly when you consider that flu deaths far exceeded novel CV deaths over the same period from Jan 1 through March. And, there is nothing atypical about those flu death numbers.
On Sat, Apr 18, 2020, 4:09 AM New Hampshire Garden Solutions New Hampshire Garden Solutions posted: ” On Easter Sunday I went for a > walk along the Ashuelot River in Keene. This trail, possibly used by Native > Americans for thousands of years, is one of my favorites. 12 Native > American historical sites have been found along the Ashuelot River, > including t” >
I started trying to identify trees and shrubs by their buds when I was in my teens, but I still see many I don’t know.
Since they’ve already gone through such high temperatures without burning to ash I doubt clinkers would burn. They’re very heavy; heavier than a stone of the same size. They’ve always reminded me of meteorites.
We aren’t required to wear a mask everywhere yet and I meet so few people in the woods I don’t feel I need one, but I do wear one in the grocery store. I don’t fear the “normal” flu because I’ve had a flu shot but there is no shot for this one, and this one is highly contagious. More like the flu of 1918, which killed 50 million people.
You are certainly right that people would want to wear a mask in public places, as opposed to a nature hike in solitude, if they thought the mesh was tiny enough to filter out submicron-size viral particles. But if the CV is so contagious and lethal it puzzles me that (a) masks are not being worn at press conferences by the President, his VP in charge of the CV Task Force, his Cabinet members, and his top medical advisors, who are not practicing “social distancing” either and (b) many if not most hospitals, as the number of cases are supposedly “rapidly climbing” past the flu season, are strangely empty of patients across the U.S–even here in Chile, a major hospital of which I toured the inside of a month ago, the halls of which were dark, no nurses scurrying about, and you could hear the echo of your footsteps. Makes me wonder if the Government knows something about this “pandemic” that you and I don’t know: http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread712540/pg1
I saw our president on television look directly at a solar eclipse with his naked eyes, even though all we heard was warnings against doing so, so I’m guessing that trying to figure out what motivates him or his cabinet is a complete waste of time. Kind of like ringing a bell with no clapper.
There are “hot spots” where hospitals are filled past capacity, mostly in cities, but in small towns like this one that isn’t happening. But the virus is still picking us off and at last count there were 32 deaths in New Hampshire. Since I have COPD and fit the “high risk” criteria I’ll keep my mask on.
https://images.app.goo.gl/XJUNbzTXZYbLW855A
Thanks for sharing your walk with us and for your good wishes. My particular favourite today was those orange catkins at the top of the post.
You’re welcome Susan, I liked those catkins too.