Every year around Halloween I go to Willard Pond over in Hancock to see what in my opinion, is some of the most colorful foliage in the region. Every year I tell myself that I’ll come back in the spring to see what it looks like then but I never have, until now. We’re going to be walking through a beautiful hardwood forest of oak, beech, and birch right along that shoreline over there behind that boulder.
Though the forest looked leafless in that previous shot there were plenty of spring leaves to see. This is the start of the trail that I follow. It is called the Tudor trail but I think I would have named it serenity, because that’s where it leads.
There were lots of new, velvety oak leaves.
Shadbushes (Amelanchier canadensis) still bloomed.
Ferns were in all stages of growth.
And everywhere you looked there were the big white flowerheads of hobblebushes (Viburnum lantanoides). It was hard to get a shot of them in the bright sunlight so I had to underexpose this shot. White is a tricky color for a camera on a sunny day. I’ve had several questions about cameras and how to use them lately and if this situation seems tricky for you, you might want to read about “bracketing exposures.” It’s a simple tip that covers a lot of bases and helps you get more used to changing the settings on your camera.
Another native viburnum, maple leaved viburnum (Viburnum acerifolium), showed how it got the name. In the fall these leaves can turn pink, purple, red, yellow, and orange and combinations of two or three, and are really beautiful. The Native American Chippewa tribe used the inner bark of this plant to relieve stomach pains.
The beavers had cut down a big beech and were in the process of stripping all its bark from it.
I stopped to look at the hillside across the pond with its soft, hushed hints of green. I saw what I had suspected; that this place is beautiful no matter what time of year it is. I could hear a loon laughing and giggling over there somewhere and I wondered what the early settlers must have thought when they first head loons. With all of their many superstitious beliefs it must have scared them half to death. If you’d like to hear what I heard, just click here: www.loon.org/the-call-of-the-loon/
A fly fisherman was fishing for trout from his kayak and he heard the loon too. The loon was most likely also fishing for trout. Willard pond is considered a trout pond and there are rainbow and brook trout, as well as with smallmouth bass. No boats with motors are allowed, and fly fishing is the only form of fishing allowed. Since it is part of a wildlife sanctuary the land surrounding the pond can never be developed. It is about as close to true wilderness as you can find in this area and it is beautiful.
Several times when I came here in the fall, I saw the seed heads of rhodora (Rhododendron canadense). They’re one of our most beautiful shrubs and I hoped to find them in bloom, but all I saw were buds. I had to go back to get these photos of them but it was worth it because this is not a common shrub.
Rhodora is a small, two-foot-tall native rhododendron (actually an azalea) that loves swampy places. It is native to the northeastern U.S. and Canada and both its western and southern limits are reached in Pennsylvania. The flowers appear just before the leaves, but only for a short time in spring. They bloom just before irises in this area, and by mid-June their flowers will have all vanished. Henry David Thoreau knew it well, and wrote “The splendid Rhodora now sets the swamps on fire with its masses of rich color.” He would have loved this place.
Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum commutatum) grew all along the trail and on some of the boulders. I saw plenty of buds but no flowers yet. In the fall dark blue or purple berries will hang where the flowers were.
I’m including this view of the trail to show that if you come here, you’d be wise to wear good sturdy hiking boots. Mud, stones and roots are some of the things you’ll have to scramble up and over. I tell you about trail conditions in these posts so you won’t get here and wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. I often wish someone had done the same for me. Every hike has its own set of challenges, and their difficulty seems to increase with age.
For years, each fall I’ve seen what I thought was a species of dicentra growing on a boulder. But which boulder, I wondered on this trip. Then up ahead I saw that a tree had fallen across the path, stopped only by a boulder. When I got to the boulder sure enough, it was the boulder with the plant I was looking for on it. Luckily the tree hadn’t crushed the plants, so I was able to see them flowering. I could see that they weren’t dicentra.
Though I could see that they weren’t dicentra I didn’t know what they were because I had never seen them before. I took photos of the flowers and leaves from all sides as I always do and when I got home, I found that they were pale cordyalis. (Corydalis sempervirens.) They are a native which, from what I’ve read likes sandy, stony soil along pond and river banks. They are also called rock harlequin and why is perfectly clear, since this one grew on a boulder.
The small flowers of pale corydalis have two pairs of petals, which are bright pink with yellow tips. Some were white, but I’m not sure if they fade to white or come out white and turn pink. They are a biennial, which means that the plants appear in the first year and flower in the second. Flowers are small and appear in clusters (Racemes). They are related to Dutchman’s breeches, which is a native dicentra.
When I got home and saw this photo I took of the forest I thought my camera had lost its marbles, but then I checked the shots I took with the other two cameras I carried and they all showed the same; the most intense green I’ve ever seen. Colorblindness makes it hard to understand what color I’m seeing sometimes and sometimes the colors I see just don’t seem possible. “Find that on a color wheel” my mind taunts.
I’m always awe struck by this huge boulder. In relation to the glacier that scraped it up and brought it here it must have been little more than a grain of sand, and it’s hard to even imagine that.
Violets grew out of the moss on a stone at the water’s edge.
Blue flag irises grew close enough to the water to have wet feet, and that’s what they like. I haven’t seen any in bloom as of this post.
Over the years a few people have told me what I’ve missed by not following the trail past this old oak with its rickety little bench but I’ve seen, heard and felt enough, and I usually have more photos than I would want or need by the time I get here, so this is where I end my hike. I could go on to what is called “the point” or I could climb Bald Mountain, but I don’t feel a need to do so. This spot always calls to me to come and sit so that’s what I do, and it has always been enough.
I sit on the ground these days because the bench is getting wobbly, but it doesn’t matter. The view is the same and the sounds are the same. There is just the lapping of the waves and bird song, and maybe an occasional chuckle or hoot from a loon.
I watched the shadows from the waves move over the stone covered pond bottom. There was just enough of a breeze to kick them up a bit and thankfully, to keep the biting bugs away. In this region you would be hard pressed to find a day when there wasn’t a breeze coming across a lake or pond.
The one thing that is most abundant here is silence, and the simplest lesson nature teaches is the most valuable: silence heightens awareness. Once we have learned this silence becomes the teacher, and silence teaches peace. When I come upon the kind of beauty that makes me quiet and still, be it a tiny flower or a mountain top, I find that peace is always there, waiting. I do hope that you find the same.
The best places aren’t easy to see; instead of following light one must follow silence. ~Hanna Abi Akl
Thanks for stopping in.
It is nice to see Willard Pond in Spring. That bench looks like a great place to perch for a while. I have been hoping to see pale cordyalis for a long time but I’ve never seen it.
Warm again here in Michigan. So many things are blooming, every day I see something new. Thanks for posting.
Thanks Chris! I’ve never seen pale corydalis before this either. It isn’t at all common here. The flowers are quite small.
I’m seeing new flowers each day now too. Maiden pinks, ox eye daisies and rhododendron today! And it was hot today too!
“Every hike has its own set of challenges, and their difficulty seems to increase with age.” Truer words were never written.
I like your corydalis. We have a yellow variety here.
Thank you. I had another challenging one today.
I think your blog is the only one I’ve seen corydalis on. It doesn’t seem to be very common.
The one on the wall is the only one that I see here.
May I link your post to mine? https://mikicc.org/2022/05/12/harris-center-audubon-willard-pond-to-bald-mtn/ Miki
mikicc.org, selfemployedagain.wordpress.com
Sure Miki, feel free.
That was all so beautiful. Thank you. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a pale corydalis before. Not in bloom anyway. What a treat.
Thank you. Pale corydalis isn’t at all common in this area. That’s the only one I’ve seen in over 50 years.
I wonder if corydalis is related to bleeding hearts, in addition to Dutchmans Breeches. Do you happen to know? I did a quick perusal via my browser and nothing jumped out at me. —I like Willard Pond for having gone Kayaking there a few times. Knowing that it is good trout (fly) fishing I will have to let my husband know!
Hi Allie. Yes, they’re related in some way to dicentra, or bleeding hearts. They remind me of fern leaved bleeding hearts.
Your husband might have some luck there. When I went back for shots of the rhodora there were several fishermen there.
This is a lovely area, Allen. And all the great pics show that you had a fine day for your hike. The water looks so blue and the air so clear! And I loved seeing the corydalis, what a little charmer. Are you enjoying your freedom to hike “at will”?
Hi Ginny! Yes, it’s a special place-special enough to have been set aside and protected. And I had a perfect day to be there!
I am enjoying my freedom to go anywhere, but “anywhere” has had a limit put on it by these crazy gas prices. I’ve had to tone down my wanderlust, but just for now.
I’m also having fun finally getting back to doing some real gardening around here. I’m going out to plant some cut and come again zinnias in a bit. I chose them because they really attract the butterflies. Hopefully I’ll be able to get some photos of them!
I hope you’re staying cool. We’re having a taste of your weather today.
I really like this post. From the opening tone you have taken us on a magical mystery tour of a most beautiful place. From the fresh new leaves to the ferns, to the beaver action and the familiar view across the pond. The corydalis are beautiful. as are the fresh young spring green leaves. I fondly remember views like that across the pond at Robin Hood Park. I think maybe I would stop at the bench too. It feels like there is a serenity about that spot that I would much like to languish in. The lapping of the waves and the bird song seem like they would be pretty soothing… Something I could sure use a bit more of these days. It sure feels like a bit of peace on earth. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks Dave. There is something special about this place and I know you’d like it.
I’m sure there must be places like it there where you live. All you have to do is go when they call to you.
‘Silence heightens awareness’ so true. I loved your photographs of the Rhodora, really beautiful.
Thank you. I wish there were more of them around.
The rhodora/azalea/rhododendron family is one of my favorite woodland shrubs and we had plenty of them where I grew up in Northern NJ. The azaleas were a light pink and grew to five feet tall or so. We also ha some mountain laurel and a few rhododendron. Temple, NH has scads and scads of mountain laurel along the sides of the roads where it is wooded. Quite a sight to see when they are all in bloom!
We have the native pink azaleas here as well and they get quite tall. I know of a rail trail in Winchester with lots of Mountain Laurel growing along it, and it is beautiful. I’ll have to go see the ones in Temple one day!