Enjoying the Beauty of Spring at Beaver Brook

I thought I might find several shades of spring green on the trees up at the Beaver Brook Natural Area but no, most of the trees were still wearing just buds. That wasn’t too much of a disappointment really, because there would still be astounding natural beauty to see here even if there were no trees. I went up there on three different days to take photos for this post. Two days were showery and one was sunny, so if you think you see darker and lighter /wetter and drier photos you aren’t imagining it.

There were ferns coming up everywhere. The cinnamon ferns had grown a lot since I saw them last and were just about ready to transition from the fiddlehead stage to the fully open adult stage.

There were lots of native hobblebushes blooming all along the old abandoned road. The pretty, pure white outer flowers are just for show; there to entice insects. It’s the smaller flowers in the center that will become the fruit. The oval berries will start out green, then turn bright red, and finally ripen to a dark purple. They’re as interesting as the flowers.

I had to stop and see the smoky eye boulder lichens. They’re one of my favorites. On this day they looked like part of the sky fell with the rain, and tiny bits of blue scattered over the rocks. The blue apothecia outlined in black are really striking. The color is caused by the way the light falls on the waxy coating that covers them.

And then of course there is Beaver Brook. I used to lean on that tree to steady myself when I wanted a photo looking upstream but ever so slowly it leaned. And it kept leaning until it finally came to rest as we see it here.

The tree would have been just another log in the brook but it got hung up on others, so for now it leans. What I thought was interesting is how this shot showed that the tree grew for years on a rock, and nobody ever knew it that I know of. Since it was only connected to the earth on one side it’s no wonder it fell. This is a popular spot for dog walkers, who let their pets swim when the water isn’t high. The water does get high at times and will come right up and over where I stood to take these photos. I had an old timer tell me that he saw the water come up over the road years ago but I try not to think about that, especially when I’m here.

I love the way that Solomon’s seal plants unfurl in spring. They come out of the bud in a spiral and have a fluid, flowing, almost musical appearance and I think they’re quite beautiful. The tiny little flower buds will hang down under the stem as the plant ages.

Call it wake robin, stinky John, or red trillium; it’s another of our beautiful ephemeral spring flowers. They grow here by the hundreds on both sides of the old road.

I stopped to see the glittering wood moss, which was quite wet. This is also called stairstep moss because of the way the new growth “steps up” from the old and you can just see that happening just to the left of center. This is a rare moss which usually grows in more northern boreal forests, reaching the Arctic circle, I believe. This is the only place I’ve ever seen it.

This is not a moss and it isn’t rare either, but every time I see it I wonder how many people glance at it thinking it’s just another moss. It’s actually a liverwort called greater whip wort. It always reminds me of a nest of centipedes and each “branch” is indeed about the size of a small centipede. Its species name is “trilobata” and it gets that name from the way each tiny 1/8 inch wide leaf terminates in three lobes or “teeth.” This liverwort loves to grow on rocks so next time you see a mossy rock take a closer look. You might see a liverwort.

This moss is also rare in this area. It’s called rose moss for obvious reasons and it is another moss that prefers growing on stones. Limestone actually seems to be its favorite and it’s a good indicator that limestone is present in the area. I don’t know how rare it is nation wide but this is the only place I’ve ever seen it. I like the way its growth habit makes it look like tiny flowers. It’s a very pretty little moss.

I’ve known this dog lichen for many years but this year for the first time it was showing a huge burst of new growth. As we see here the older part of the lichen forms the dark background and the new growth is the tan /red-brown lobes in the foreground. This is what it looked like when it was wet…

…and this is what it looked like when dry the next day. The difference was really amazing; all the new growth now had frosted edges. I know it is a dog lichen but I didn’t try to find out its species name. As I look back on this blog I see that it is most likely the scaly pelt lichen (Peltigera praetextata.)

The walk to the end of the old road is a steady but gentle uphill climb the whole way. Unless they happened to have weak lungs most people would hardly notice it.

New beech leaves were everywhere, and they were beautiful. They are why walking here in the fall is like walking through a painting.

New maple leaves were everywhere too. I’m not sure why this tree thought its leaf stems needed to be so long but it knows more about what it is doing than I do.

This maple was more like what I expect to see at this time of year. The red coloring is so the leaves don’t get sunburned, I’ve read. It only lasts for a short time before they turn green. Many trees, not just maples, do this. New oak leaves seem to be everything but green in spring.

Here were more hobblebush flowers. If you’ve ever gotten all tangled up in a colony of these native viburnums you know why they’re called hobblebush. If you don’t watch where you put your feet you can quickly find yourself face down on the ground. It’s better to walk around a colony of them than through them, I learned the hard way years ago.

Since the disappearing waterfall was running I had to stop and take some photos of it. I call this the disappearing waterfall because it only runs after we’ve had a certain amount of rain. This is just how this photo came out of my cellphone, blown out highlights and all. A tree had fallen across the streams run, I noticed. So many trees fall here that a walk without seeing any would seem odd.

It was just about in this spot that I heard a beautiful bird song that I had never heard before. The Merlin app on my phone told me it was a winter wren and I was surprised to learn that such a tiny bird had such a powerful voice. Its bubbly music was easily heard over the sound of the brook and it was beautiful.

This great shot of a tiny winter wren that I found on Wikipedia was taken in Prospect Park in New York City by someone who calls themselves Rhododendrites. If you click on their name it will take you to their Wikipedia information page, which is quite interesting. He used an Olympus camera to get this shot and one of the things I read there is how Olympus is getting out of the camera business. Anyhow, I was shocked to see that such a big, beautiful sound came from such a small bird. If you have time you might want to go and have a listen online. After seeing this photo I wasn’t surprised that I wasn’t able to see the bird; it has good camouflage. I like its little eyebrow.

Here was another trillium willing to pose. All of these plants grow under trees and in a short time they’ll be growing in shade instead of the bright sunshine that they see for just a short time. The flowers are here and then they’re gone in maybe a month but plants that have formed seed pods will persist for several months.

Another fern fiddlehead. I think this one was another young cinnamon fern but I couldn’t swear to it. I’ve always liked seeing how ferns unfurl. It’s always amazing to see them grow from a tiny fiddlehead into something three feet tall and three feet across in such a short amount of time.

I saw some nice turkey tails here as well, growing on some of the logs that came from fallen trees.

This one wanted to grow in a spiral, which is something I don’t see that often.

I was able to get a passable shot of Beaver Brook Falls through the brush but when all the leaves come out it will be almost completely hidden. As I do sometimes these days, I stood looking down the narrow trail leading down to the water. It is quite steep and gravel makes it slippery and if you ever fell here you could break bones, so though my mind sometimes tries to convince me that I could still do it, I no longer listen to that voice.

I usually turn around and go back at the falls because the end of the road is not too far behind where I was standing when I took this shot. The end of the road is the new route 9 north highway that was built right across this road in the late 1960s so if you keep going you run into a huge mound of dirt with a highway on it.

Going back, it isn’t far from here to the starting point but there is so much to see, what isn’t even a mile of distance can (and does) take hours. I spent parts of three days here and I’ve barely scratched the surface of what there is to see here in this post.

I took one last look at Beaver Brook before leaving. It was behaving itself and it gurgled and giggled and chuckled softly beside me the entire time I was here. It was my only companion; I saw nobody else on the road during any of the days I visited the place, and that seemed odd. Part of what makes this place so special is how there is a paved path right through a forest that has remained pretty much untouched since the road was built in the 1700s. It’s perfect for families with baby strollers, those in wheelchairs, or those who wish to simply experience the beauty and silence of nature.  And it’s just minutes from downtown Keene, NH.

The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature. ~Joseph Campbell

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More To See Each Day

More glory of the snow flowers have come along. This is another under used spring flowering bulb that I can find only in one spot in a local park. I think it must be another of those flowers that people simply aren’t aware of. It’s too bad we don’t have a public garden here where people could go to learn the names of flowers they like and to see how they can be used in a garden.

It’s already time to say goodbye to the crocuses. They were beautiful this year despite the snow and cold they went through.

New flowers have taken over for the crocuses. Hyacinths and daffodils dominate this bed at the local college. I wish I could add fragrance to photos.

Most of the daffodils are in full bloom now. This one was fading a bit already but it was still pretty.

Bleeding hearts are up. These are the tall old fashioned bleeding hearts that disappear in the heat of summer. I like their spring foliage but sometimes it can be hard to catch it in this stage because it grows so fast. These plants will be blooming in no time.

Scilla blossoms are at their peak right now and since they’re my favorite color, I’m happy that they are. This spring bulb always looks better planted in large numbers, as these were.

I think it’s safe to say that lilacs are going to have a great year. As long as we don’t have another freeze, that is.

The Japanese magnolia buds that I showed in the last post have opened. As I mentioned they are this plum color outside….

…and white on the inside. As I also said, the petals tend to flop around a lot.

Violas seem tired this year. I can remember plants full of flowers but these plants at the local college are getting old so they can only manage one or two blooms at a time now. They were show stopping when they were in their prime.

It’s getting to be time now for the flowering shrubs and trees to add to the beauty. Japanese andromeda are one of the first shrubs to bloom and this year they are heavy with flowers that look like tiny fairy lights mounted in gold. They must like mild winters; I’ve never seen them bloom like they are now.

Once just by dumb luck I took a photo of a henbit flower and saw lots of hairs that I couldn’t see with my eyes, so every now and then I try for the hairs. This shot is this year’s the result. It’s a tiny but very hairy flower. It’s in the deadnettle family and some call it henbit deadnettle. The red parts seen under the hood are its four stamens. It has two long and two short stamens, much like ground ivy. I’ve read that its name comes from the way hens peck at the flowers but it isn’t the flowers they’re after; it’s the four tiny seeds the flowers produce.

Dandelions haven’t stopped since February. It seems like each time I go out I see even more. Many this year have had huge flowers on them but I’d say these were average.

I went to the wetlands hoping I might see some dragonflies but it must have been too early. I did see some red maples shining in the morning sunlight though, and they were beautiful. I also saw a small orange butterfly but it was too quick for me.

I sat on a picnic table on the side of the road and this bird flew into a bush beside me. Google lens says it’s a song sparrow but I wonder, because it squawked but didn’t really sing. Last year while I was sitting on the same picnic table a bird that looked like this one flew into the same bush, but that one sang beautifully.

When I got up to leave after sitting for a while I saw that a muskrat had come up out of the pond to eat some of the fresh green grass shoots. Its front paws looked just like little hands but with long claws. Muskrats must be famished for something green in spring; I’ve seen them do this once or twice before but it’s rare to see one expose itself in daylight when people are around. Muskrats can be aggressive if they feel threatened, so it’s best to give them plenty of space.

Muskrats are smaller than beavers and their ears are small, flat against the head and hard to see while a beaver’s ears are larger, protruding, and easy to see. The tails are the best way to tell them apart but the tail isn’t always visible. A muskrat can curl its rat like tail around its body as this one had but I don’t think beavers are able to do this with their longer, flat tails. Any time I’ve seen a beaver on dry land its tail was obvious.

On Tuesday it reached 70 degrees F. and the turtles came out in large numbers to soak up some warmth. At first I thought I was seeing just that larger turtle but then I moved a little and saw another one behind it. Then I got home and looked at the photo and saw another one coming out of the water. The scene looked like they had wrecked a bamboo raft and were scrambling to safety but it was really just last year’s cattail stems scattered around. While I was getting shots of turtles I heard a deep throated bullfrog croaking off in the distance; the first I’ve heard this year.

I think the mourning doves have been taking turkey lessons, because as I walked down a road recently I watched two doves stopping traffic. Anyone who knows these birds knows how skittish they can be but this particular pair were so interested in something in the road, they had no fear. A car came along at speed but the driver had to hit the brakes, letting the car creep along until the doves moved slowly out of the way, just as turkeys do. After taking a couple of shots I kept walking, but when I looked back there they were again, right back in the middle of the road. I’ve read that the name “mourning” dove comes from the mournful sound they make.

Willows were absolutely glowing on a recent cloudy day. I was surprised because they were female flowers, which in willows aren’t as showy or as brightly colored as male flowers.

This is what the female (pistillate) flowers look like. They’re smaller, paler, and obviously evenly spaced.

This is what the male (staminate) flowers look like. They’re a bright, banana yellow and are bigger than the female flowers. Though they are also evenly spaced it isn’t readily apparent. They often look kind of chaotic and one sided.

I went to see how the hobblebush flower buds were coming along. They aren’t very big yet because they bloom in May but they’re bigger than the last time I saw them. Each flower bud is between two young leaves that look like they’re made of corduroy. They are in their bunny face mode right how but soon the leaves will flatten out and uncurl and the beautiful snow white flowers will start to open. Hobblebushes are one of our most beautiful native viburnums.

The male flower bud scales on box elders have opened to reveal the reddish brown colored stamens within. They should grow quickly out of the buds now, and before long each stamen will dangle at the end of a long filament. A week or so after they have fully developed, the female flowers, which are sticky lime green pistils, will appear along with the leaves. Box elder flowers are quite beautiful but since the trees are considered “weed trees” they are becoming increasingly hard to find and get close to. Box elder is in the maple family and is considered one of the “soft maples.” The oldest intact Native American flute ever found was made from box elder.

Next time you’re walking under a tree why not stop for a moment and reach up and pull down a branch? Just take a look at the buds; it takes little effort and even less time, and you might be amazed that you have been walking right by something so beautiful for so long. These slightly hairy, richly colored Norway maple buds are about at their peak of beauty right now. Soon they’ll open and large clusters of yellow flowers will spill out of them. Norway Maple is actually an invasive tree but so many towns and cities have planted them as landscape specimens, it’s far too late to do much about it now. I find them in the woods fairly regularly.

Every bird, every tree, every flower reminds me what a blessing and privilege it is just to be alive.
 ~Marty Rubin

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A Beautiful Recovery

As this photo shows the crocuses have recovered beautifully from the snowstorm I showed in the last post. Spring flowers look delicate but they’re built for snow and cold. April is when the spring ephemeral wildflowers really get going so there will be lots to see this month, both in and out of the garden.

I had to get another shot of one of my favorite crocuses. I hope you aren’t getting tired of seeing them. It’s their shading that makes them so beautiful, in my opinion.

The hyacinths are out fully now and this one reminded me of a stalk full of scilla blossoms. The color and the shape of the flowers is similar.

I see so many flowers it’s impossible to pick a favorite, but one of my favorite spring flowering bulbs is striped squill. It looks a lot like a scilla in size but its flowers are white with blue pin stripes. I think for me it is their simplicity that makes them a favorite. It’s amazing how just a simple line on a flower petal can look so elegant and beautiful. They bloom at just about the same time as scilla and seeing both blooming together is a beautiful sight. Years ago when I started this blog they were very hard to find but now any good spring bulb seller will have them. Still, I know of only one place to see them blossom. It’s hard to believe that something so beautiful could be so under used. I think the answer is simply that since people don’t see them in gardens, they don’t know what they are and don’t know what to ask for. I’ve had countless people ask me about them over the years when they’ve seen me taking photos of them. Their Sunday go to meeting name is Puschkinia scilloides, but simply Googling “striped squill” will get you there. Take a look; you might fall in love with them as I did years ago.

The hellebores have fully opened now, even though this shot was taken a slightly before this one had.

I took these photos because I thought you might like to see what most people walk right by. There’s a lot going on in there.

The buds on the Japanese magnolias are showing color now. I think this one’s name is “Jane.” It will have bicolor petals that are dark on the outside and pure white on the inside. Some are pinkish like this one and others are purple. Their colors are very beautiful but the petals kind of flop around. They’re very different than the flowers on a star magnolia.

Once again glory of the snow refused to blossom until the snow had melted. I don’t know where its name came from but I do know that I’ve never once seen it blossom in the snow. I have seen almost every other spring flowering bulb bloom in the snow however, so this one’s name must have been more wish than fact. In the end it really doesn’t matter, because it’s a pretty flower.

I looked for bees on all the garden flowers and saw none. Then I looked at the dandelions and there they were. I don’t get too many shots of things in flight but this bee was indeed hovering over the flower.

Robins used to be a reliable sign of spring but many stay here all year now so that isn’t entirely true anymore. What is a sign of spring when it comes to robins is when you see them pulling worms up out of the soil. That means the ground has thawed and is warm enough for the worms to come to the surface. It also means the soil is warm enough for spring wildflowers to start growing.

I was surprised to see this lilac’s bud scales had pulled back enough to reveal the flower buds within. It grows in a local park so I don’t know its name but I do know it will bloom earlier than any other lilac I’ve seen. We had a white lilac that my mother planted and that was the lilac that started me watching lilac buds in spring when I was a boy. I’ve watched them every year since. If you take a look at them once or twice each week they can tell you a lot about spring’s progression.  

In a different park in a different part of town this lilac with its striking bicolor buds grows. I haven’t been able to find out its name yet but its buds have grown quite a lot since I last saw them.

I saw a Japanese maple in the same park that still had last year’s leaves on it. That isn’t unusual but the way they have held on to their fall color sure is.

I went to see a favorite red maple and found that many of its male flower buds had been killed by the cold. Those we see here should be bright red, not that dark, bruised purplish color. This tree blooms a little later than most others and is very pretty, but not this year.

This shot from a few years ago shows the same tree full of flowers. What makes it so beautiful is how almost all the flowers bloom at once and how the filaments hold the stamens out away from the flower clusters so they look like bright, red and yellow pincushions. This was the first red maple to show me how spicy the fragrance could be from a tree all in bloom. Before the leaves appear red and silver maples can be tough to tell apart so I just call any tree that looks like this a red maple. The tree doesn’t care what I call it and neither do I, so until the leaves appear it’s a red maple. Once the leaves appear it might have to graduate to silver.

Skunk cabbages are producing leaves now. This is when, for just a short time, the leaves actually look like cabbage leaves. Soon each plant will be huge, with a crown of leaves 3-5 feet across and thigh high.

Coltsfoot flowers are everywhere now. Soon they’ll go to seed and have white cottony seedheads, and the leaves will start to appear. Spring ephemerals don’t stay around too long so to catch them you really have to get out there every day. Fleeting, is what they are.

There are a few plants that usually show fresh spring growth more or less at the same time, so when I see one I start to look for the others. They are plantain leaved sedge, seen above. Ramps, which are a kind of wild onion or leek. False hellebore, which is the most toxic plant in the spring forest. Skunk cabbage, spring beauties, bloodroot, and trout lilies.

They were a little hard to see in that previous photo but the plantain leaved sedge was full of new flower stalks like that seen above. Very soon now the butter yellow male flowers will appear at the top of the stem and the feathery white female flowers will blossom lower down on the same stem. Pennsylvania sedge is much more common and blossoms at about the same time. Pennsylvania sedge looks like clumps of grass growing here and there in groups on the forest floor.

I went to see the striped maples once again and found that all the bud scales had opened. Soon a large, velvety, pink and orange bud will appear from each pair of bud scales, and they’ll grow quickly. It’s hard to believe that all of the current year’s growth will appear from these small buds but it does.

Mouse ear chickweeds have started blooming. They are also called sticky chickweed because of the sticky sap the hairy stems produce. They are usually one of the earliest spring flowers to appear, along with ground ivy and henbit. This plant is all about fives, with 5 white petals and 5 green sepals in a star shape behind them. At the time of this photo it was already producing seed pods, one of which can be seen below the flowers.

Ground ivy wasn’t bothered by snow. If anything it’s growing better than it was. Sometimes spring snow is called “poor man’s fertilizer” due to all the nitrates it drags down out of the atmosphere, and there is a lot of truth in that. This is from a website called “Farm and Dairy”: Nitrates are the result of nitrogen dioxide dissolving in moisture in the clouds. Precipitation pulls the nitrates down to the ground creating poor man’s fertilizer. Rain and snow both contain nitrogen, but snow by its nature provides a better delivery method. Nutrients are slowly released into the soil as the snow melts. This is especially effective early in the spring when the ground is thawed. Nature is a wonderful thing! (Actually it isn’t a thing, but I won’t get into that now.)

While I was crawling around admiring spring beauty blossoms I saw tiny green wood frogs jumping in the leaf litter and I heard the first spring peepers on this day. Wood frogs make a kind of quacking noise and spring peepers peep. Loudly. I’ve also seen wood ducks and mergansers eating lots of unknown insects that were hatching in ponds, and Canada geese acting like they were looking for nesting sites. Nature knows that spring is here, now if only the weather would agree.

On this past Thursday we had another spring snowstorm that dropped over a foot of snow in northern parts of the state and caused avalanches in the White Mountains, and downed trees and powerlines, but in my yard I saw barely three inches. It was like the last storm; heavy and wet, but the difference between this storm and the last was, it stayed warm enough so nothing froze this time. You may have heard about the “Major nor’easter slamming into New England” and I suppose that was true in places, but here it was just more poor man’s fertilizer.

I focused on this little blossom and it was as if the beauty of all the flowers I’ve ever seen came together, right here in this tiny blossom. I’m convinced that one thing this world will never run out of is beauty.

Treasures are hidden away in quiet places. They speak in soft tones and often become silenced as we approach. They don’t beg to be found, but embrace us if we do happen to find them. They are the product of completely ordinary circumstances unfolding in wonderfully extraordinary ways. They are found hidden in the nooks and crannies of our existence; all around us if we quit allowing our attention to be captivated by that which is noisy and listen for that which is quiet and still. ~Craig D. Lounsbrough

Thanks for coming by. I hope nobody lost power during the storm.

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After the Snow

According to the folks at the National Weather Service 2.7 inches of snow fell in Keene last weekend. That was then packed down by all the rain that followed, and then all of that froze solid over night so there was no shoveling it until the next day. I had to wait until the sun came out on Monday and softened it up a bit, but even then I was shoveling inch thick plates of ice. Once the shoveling was done (actually I was done) I went out to see how the flowers had come through and was surprised to see how unaffected many of them were. It was the temperature, which got down into the low teens, more than the snow that harmed many of them so the ones that were insulated by snow cover pulled through. Those blossoms higher up on bushes and trees weren’t so lucky.

Sometimes it looked like the weight of the heavy wet snow rather than cold damaged the most delicate blossoms.

Many crocuses were open for business as this one was, but there were no takers. All the bees were somewhere other than here and I haven’t seen one in days now.  

There is something about flowers in the snow that I find very beautiful. Maybe it’s because it’s so unexpected; one of those things that takes you completely by surprise.

You can see in this shot how the snow had turned to ice. That little scilla blossom seemed very interested in what was going on in that hole that had opened up. Maybe warmth? On very cold days I’ve seen warmth in the form of vapor coming out of holes like that one many times. It’s the warmth of the earth.

These crocuses looked like they were made of silver and inlayed with lapis lazuli. They were very beautiful, I thought.

The vernal witch hazels said “Ho hum, another spring storm.” They’ve been blooming since February and they’ll continue for as long as the cool weather does. Too much heat is the enemy of these flowers.

I’ve been waiting for the hellebores but apparently they were waiting for some snow to bloom in. Another name for them is “Lenten rose” and this year it looks as if they’ve lived up to it.

This hyacinth, the first one I’ve seen blooming, had been frost burned but there are more to come.

The Cornelian cherries miscalculated and were hit hard by the freezing temperatures. The petals on the flowers seen here were more liquid than solid, and the same was true for most of the buds. I don’t know if these cultivars bear fruit because I’ve never seen it, but if they do there won’t be much of it this year. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this happen to them.

The one Forsythia I know of with open flowers was also hit hard but this is one among many thousands. Most buds on other bushes aren’t even showing color yet so they might still blossom as usual. It’s hard to tell with Forsythia because they’re so susceptible to cold. Many years in spring you’ll find blossoms only at the bottom of the bushes, and that’s because that’s where the snow was deep enough to insulate the buds against the cold. This year we had little to no snow and no real cold until now, so it’s anyone’s guess how they’ll blossom. 

I’ve seen very few open magnolia buds but the ones that had opened before last weekend had been burned brown by the cold. They shouldn’t look like a brown paper bag.

The tiny threads that are female American Hazelnut flowers should be bright red so these were looking a bit under the weather. That could be cold damage but it could also be that they had been pollinated and didn’t need to be there anymore. Only the fall hazelnut crop will let us know for sure.

The willow blossoms that had opened before the storm were lost to the cold but most had not opened yet, so there are still many millions of willow blossoms to come. They’re an important early spring source of pollen and nectar, so I’m glad they hadn’t all opened.

How very beautiful life is and how easy it is to love. There is no work to it; gratitude is the key that unlocks the door and then love and joy just quietly seep in.

The willows in this post bloom under the power lines on power company property so I have to walk an old access road to get to them. The heavy rain over the weekend flooded the road and then the cold froze it all, so I had to walk in the unmowed rough alongside it. There was lots of melting ice on this day, and that meant the water in places was deep enough to be over my boot tops. I can’t say that I got out of there completely dry.

There were lots of shapes in the ice. This one reminded me of a caladium leaf. If you don’t know what a caladium is but have a lot of shade in your yard, you might want to look them up.

There were bubbles full of bubbles in many places. This scene reminded me of a painting of glass. I’ve seen paintings with glasses in them that looked as real as any photo, and it was because the artist had been so accurate with the highlights. I’ve had several painters ask me if they could paint my photos and I think this would be a great one to practice with. Nature makes each little spot of sunlight and the white outline on each bubble look so simple…..

Dandelions said what snow? It didn’t even slow them down.

This shot is of many thousands of red maple flowers that fell to the pavement during the rain. This is a common sight in spring, usually made up of male flowers that have released their pollen. Once they’ve done their job and are no longer needed they fall like rain.

Mallards didn’t seem to mind the ice and snow, and what must have been very cold water.

Before the storm the summit of Mount Monadnock was down to bare granite but now there’s a lot of snow up there for the sun to melt away again. Since we’ve had another cool and cloudy week it hasn’t gone anywhere yet. I’ve always thought the mountain was at its most beautiful when capped by snow so I had to stop and get a shot of it to show you. On this day I had the added bonus of a cloud shadow.

Flowers carry not only beauty but also the silent song of love. You just have to feel it. ~Debasish Mridha

Thanks for stopping in. I hope everyone has a Happy Easter tomorrow.

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Birds, Buds, and Blossoms

Anyone who has spent time in nature knows that spring doesn’t happen on a certain calendar day. Spring happens when everything seems to just come together one day. The breeze is warmer, the sunshine is warmer, all the birds are singing, insects appear, and people are smiling for no reason they can explain. But even with all these outward signs the first day of spring is sensed more than anything else, and you find that you are finally able to say “this is spring.” That day came last Sunday, March 3rd. One of the outward signs was a beautiful bird song that seemed to be coming from everywhere. I was at the local college and the bird, which I believe was a purple finch, was up in the top of a tree on the corner of one of the large brick buildings surrounding the campus quad. Its warbling song echoed off the brick walls and made it sound like it came from all directions. I think it was enjoying the natural PA system it had found, because even though it saw me with my camera it still sang beautifully.

The purple finch, bird people say, has no purple on it but it does have a color they call “raspberry” on its head, chest, face and back. It’s the New Hampshire State Bird, and it gained that title by edging a chicken out of the top spot. I’d guess whoever named it, if they thought that color was purple, must have been even more colorblind than I am.

The purpose of this day’s outing was to see if I could find any female American hazelnut flowers in bloom. I chose a bush that had male catkins that were golden colored and pliable, signalling that they were almost ready to open and start releasing pollen.

And there were the tiny scarlet stigmas that are the female flowers. I saw several in bloom on this day.  The easiest way to find out if they’re ready to bloom is by watching the male catkins. When they turn a gold color the female flowers will be along at any time, because these tiny, sticky red threads are what will catch the pollen that is released on by the male flowers on the golden catkins. If pollination is successful each tiny thread will become a hazelnut.

As I usually do, I’ll show this photo I took years ago to give you a sense of scale. These are some of the smallest flowers I try to get photos of. The only way I can find them is by looking for a hint of color.  

While I was looking at the hazelnuts I noticed birds up in the staghord sumacs. They were quite far away and I couldn’t tell what they were, but I had seen flocks of robins here before eating the sumac berries so I assumed that’s what they were. I was surprised, once I started clicking the shutter, to see that they were bluebirds. I believe the one seen here is a female. It’s not a great shot but considering how far away I was on a dim, overcast day I had to be happy with it.

A male bluebird was high up on one of the rungs that climb the towers that hold up the high tension wires in this area. He didn’t have to worry about me following him up there.

Red winged blackbirds have come back in great numbers and for those who have never seen one, this is a classic pose for the males. Males are the only ones with red and yellow shoulder patches. Returning males will sit at the tops of cattail stems to guard the spot they’ve chosen for a nest, and they will fight off any interlopers. Their lives seem to revolve around cattail plants; they use them for cover and build their nests down low to the ground in them. They use their soft fluffy seeds to line the nest and they dig grubs out of last year’s stems. Males will often hide down in the cattails. Their strange whirring, clicking, and whistling calls are the only thing that gives them away. Males will also sit high in the tops of tall trees in large numbers, I found out just the other day.

I’ve never seen the back of a red winged blackbird before. They have some interesting makings.

I took a closer look at a few buds I saw here and there. This Japanese honeysuckle bud was already leafing out, and I wasn’t surprised. That’s one way invasives get a leg up on natives; they start photosynthesizing earlier in spring and later into the fall. It’s common to see Japanese honeysuckles with leaves after most other leaves have fallen.

I didn’t expect to see any movement in beech buds but it’ll soon be time to start watching them for signs of bending. Sunlight excites the cells on the sunlit side of the bud and they grow faster than the cells on the shaded side, and this creates tension in the bud. They slowly curl into a rainbow shaped arc until finally something has to give, and they quite literally tear themselves open. The new leaves just out of the bud are one of the most beautiful things seen in a spring forest but it isn’t just beech; oak, maple, hickory and others are also all beautiful in their own ways. Spring is the time to start watching nature closely if you care about learning anything from it.

Nothing is happening with the brambles like blackberry and raspberry yet but they open quite early so it shouldn’t be too long before they start leafing out.

Last year I saw the beautiful chrome yellow-green buds of bitternut hickory and I told myself I’d go back and see the leaves, but of course I forgot.

This year I’ve written myself a note and stuck it on the refrigerator. SEE BITTERNUT HICKORY LEAVES it says. Whether I see them or not is still a 50/50 chance. The thing about writing notes to yourself is, you can still forget where you put the note.

I took another look look at red maple buds to see how they were coming along. Each one of these buds is just about the size of a BB that you’d put in an air rifle. The one in the middle, just above center, had a hole in it and that meant the bud scales were pulling back to let the flowers out of the bud. Very soon I thought, there will be red and silver maple flowers everywhere.

I went back to the same tree a few days later, after a night of heavy rain, and found that most of the buds had indeed opened and had flowers showing. But I also found many of them filled with water. This illustrates the danger of buds opening too early; if we were to have cold enough weather and the rain water in these buds was to freeze, every flower in the bud, 20-25 of them, would be killed. That’s what bud scales are for; they protect the flower buds inside from getting wet and freezing. If they happen to open too early freezing is a real possibility. We had a freeze in May last spring that wiped out most of the apple crop but by then the maples had done their job and were setting seed.

The vernal pools and wetlands are all free of ice now so I’d guess that the spring peepers will start in any time. They usually start singing just about the time the redwing blackbirds appear.

Willows have yet to flower but the catkins get bigger every day, so it won’t be long.

This is the first scilla of the season that I’ve seen. I think they’re one of the prettiest spring flowering bulbs, especially when massed in the hundreds. I found it in bloom at the local college. Mine aren’t showing yet.

This is the second viola I’ve seen this spring; another college find. I couldn’t get close to it so we could get a better look but there should be many more coming along. I like its color.

Last week I told the story of the lady who asked me about coming to see the locust when what she meant was crocus. This week I was standing on the sidewalk getting shots of these yellow crocus blossoms when a young girl came along with who I would guess must have been her mother and grandmother. “Oh look honey!” the mother said, “The tulips are blooming!” I just smiled and said hello. As John Maxwell said: You cannot overestimate the unimportance of practically everything.

I saw a few reticulated irises at the college, but just a few. There used to be large numbers of them but I suppose they must be fading away with age. Or something. From what I understand the college no longer has a gardener, or someone dedicated to strictly gardening. It’s too bad, because they need one.

These particular reticulated irises are not fading away. In fact they’re increasing and I’m happy about that because they grow in my yard. Last year I had one flower and this year I have four. I have to thank my blogging friend Ginny for them because she sent them up from Maryland. They’re much bigger than those at the college so I’m guessing they must be a hybrid. They’re beautiful whatever they are, so thanks Ginny!

Another thing I’m happy about is daylight savings time begins tonight. I’m all for later sunsets.

It’s spring fever, that’s what the name of it is. And when you’ve got it, you want — oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! ~Mark Twain

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A Few More Signs of Spring

Spring is happening slowly again after a warm spell two weeks or so ago that got everything moving quickly. I saw maple sap flowing a couple of weeks ago but they just put out the sap buckets this past week. Warm days and cold nights are what keeps the sap flowing so hopefully it won’t get too hot too fast and spoil the season. Right now it’s just about right, with daytime temps in the 40s and nights getting down into the 20s. Much higher than the 40s during the daytime means the sap won’t run.

The red and silver maples are beautiful, loaded as they are with bright red buds.

I haven’t seen any maple flowers yet though, even though the buds are swelling. Maple trees can flower quickly and a tree that doesn’t have any flowers one day can be loaded with them the next. Maple syrup producers are in no hurry to see the trees flower because that means syrup season is just about done. Red maple sap especially, gets bitter once the trees start flowering, but luckily all the trees don’t blossom at the same time. Blossom times are naturally staggered so you can find trees just coming into flower as much as a month after you saw the first one blossom. Nature has it all figured out.

I looked at some of the beautiful powder blue box elder buds but they didn’t seem to be doing too much yet. They’re one of the last trees in the maple family to flower. The powdery blue color on the new twigs and buds is cause by the same natural wax like crystals that cause the bloom on blueberries, plums, and many other things. It’s there essentially to protect from sunburn.

I took that shot of the box elder branch at the river, where I also saw a large gathering of ducks and geese. This Canada goose was alone but there were also pairs there as well.

This is unusual. Ducks and geese don’t usually come onto the shore when there are people around. In fact they usually swim or fly to the other side of the river as soon as they see someone coming. It didn’t take long to see what had removed their fear though; someone had dumped something they liked on shore and they all wanted it. From a distance it looked like it might have been cracked corn but I couldn’t be sure. Every time Mr. and Mrs. Mallard got too close the geese would run them off, so it must have been tasty. Feeding wildfowl isn’t usually done here so I can’t even guess what this was all about.

After the mallards got the geese really bothered one goose stood guard while the other ate. You can see the mallards over there on the right, plotting their next move.

The waterfowl are happy the ice is gone but really, there wasn’t much to go. Nobody was able to skate on this pond at a local park this year and the annual ice fishing derby on Wilson Pond in Swanzey was cancelled because what little ice there was never got thick enough to support all the fishermen. This is the first time that has happened, I think.

I gave up on winter and went looking for spring, and I was glad I did. I found this grouping of crocus at the local college. A lady saw me with my camera and stopped me to ask if I was there to get photos of the locust. “The locust?” I asked. She must have thought I looked confused because she said “You know; the flowers.” I told her that I thought she might mean the crocus and if so yes, that was what I was there for. “Oh yes, locusts are insects, right?” “Yes, that’s right,” I replied. I didn’t want to explain that certain trees are also known as locusts. “Well, have fun,” she said with a smile, and off she went.  

This one was my favorite.

The ones that are white inside and have three petals that are purple on the outside is another favorite. I think this is the first time I’ve ever found them wide open like this. For years I’ve always found them closed.

At another part of the college there are groups of yellow crocus planted with groups of purple ones. The yellow ones always seem to come up first and there are a lot of them blooming right now.

Bees were enjoying the flowers too.

I was surprised to see the bees because I didn’t think it had warmed up enough for them. They left these crocus flowers covered in pollen, so their timing was perfect.

I saw one or two purple crocuses but there are lots more to come. I always like to see the beautiful feathery designs inside these flowers.

I saw just one wrinkled viola blossom, which is odd. In years past these plants often bloomed before the crocuses, and it was colder then.

There are a few snowdrops in bloom with many more of them to come as well.

Dandelions started blooming two or three weeks ago and they haven’t stopped since. Not even snow can slow them down this year.

The Cornelian cherries are taking it slow. Like a child dipping one toe at a time in the water to feel its temperature, they seem to open one bud at a time to feel the air temperature. Then one day, as if a silent signal was given, you’ll walk by one of the trees and all its flowers will be open.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen the spring blooming witch hazels with so many flowers on them as they have this year. I stopped to see them one day and found bees all over them. The flowers seen here seemed to be what they preferred. Possibly because they’re the most fragrant. You can smell them from a block away when the breeze is right.

I like this one because of its long petals. On cold nights they roll up each of the four petals and tuck them in for the night. In the morning when the sun warms them they unroll them again. That’s why the petals always look so crinkly, almost like crepe paper. Other than to attract insects and look pretty, they serve no real purpose.

Go out in nature and you will find yourself in love with all of nature’s kind. ~Wald Wassermann

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Things I’ve Seen

Right after I told you in that last post that crows flew away as soon as I pointed anything at them, this one landed in a tree right above me and posed for as many photos as I wanted to take. Even so I never did get a good one, but this reminded me once again that the words “always” and “never” have no place in nature study. As soon as you start thinking you have it all figured out nature shows you that you don’t.

After I walked down the trail for a few yards I stopped and looked back and saw the crow still sitting in the same place, looking as if it was admiring the red maple on the other side of the trail. I noticed that it kept looking over its shoulder and upwards so I wonder if there might have been a hawk nearby. There are cornfields very nearby so there are many squirrels living here. Because of that it has become a well known hawk hang out. The squirrels eat the corn and the hawks eat the squirrels and the crows hope everyone just leaves them alone.

The tree the crow was sitting in was a poplar. They have large, shiny buds that will open to reveal catkins that look almost like gray, fluffy, giant willow catkins. These bud scales were not sticky and that tells me this was a quaking aspen because that is the only member of the poplar family with buds like these that don’t have sticky bud scales. Balsam poplar buds look much the same but their brown bud scales are very sticky to the touch. I have touched huge numbers of poplar buds but only a few were sticky so we don’t seem to have a lot of balsam poplars in this immediate area.

The willows are going strong now with more buds opening every day. It won’t be long now before we see their beautiful, bright yellow flowers.

American hazelnut catkins are growing as well. I wanted to visit this particular rail trail because I know there are a lot of hazelnuts growing here. I had hoped to find some of the tiny female flowers but it got cold again after that last flowery post you saw, so spring flowers have been on hold for most of the week.

I saw a few hazelnuts that hadn’t been eaten but most were gone. At least a few have to fall to the ground and grow so future generations of birds and animals will have them.

I saw some beautiful leaves as well but I couldn’t be sure that they were hazelnut leaves. Hazelnut leaves will often stay red-brown all winter. They seem very warm on a cold February day.

Staghorn sumacs are covered in velvet like hairs like a deer’s antler, and when the light hits them in a certain way they glow as if lit from within. For the first time this year I noticed that cattails do the same.

A large mower had mowed the sides of the trail and when it did it scarred an older staghorn sumac, tearing its bark. This had most likely happened last fall and here was the inner bark turning bright red, just as I’ve seen it do so many times. As it ages it will slowly turn to gray but for now it’s beautiful. There is a lot of red in sumacs, including their beautiful fall color. Native Americans used all parts of this plant for everything from a kind of lemonade from its berries to dye from its bark and twigs.

I was surprised to find a wild privet with green leaves still on it out here. I grew up walking this trail when it was a working railroad and have never seen a privet here. I’ve read that birds love the berries so it will be appearing everywhere, I’m sure.

There are lots of grapevines along this trail and I always like to stop and have a look at the tendrils, wondering where my imagination might take me. It’s easy to get lost in this so you have to keep your wits about you so you don’t come down with a good case of tendrilitis. I can easily spend hours doing things like this. This one looked kind of like an S with an extra squiggle or top knot.

I went to where the trout lilies bloom so beautifully in the wetlands and saw what looked like a buck rub on an old alder. Since the way the alder grew would prevent a tractor or mower damaging it in this way, a buck rub is the only answer I could come up with.

A buck rub happens when a male deer rubs its antlers on a tree trunk or branch. It does this when the blood supply to its antlers decreases in the fall. The velvet on the antlers dries and begins peeling, and to get rid of it the deer rubs them on a tree or branch. It is also thought that this may be a way that young bucks practice fighting other young bucks. Quite often the same tree, or in this case a shrub, is used again and again, rubbing the bark right off it. Since I saw two bucks and four does in this area one day I suspect that this was probably a prime hunting spot before a public road was built very nearby.  

As if to confirm my suspicions, here was an old tree stand; so old that it was falling apart. In those days they were built, not bought. Imagine sitting on that for hours on a cold fall morning, lashed to the tree, waiting for a deer to come by. It was a good choice though; that buck rub wasn’t too far from here.

The way the sunlight lit up this beech tree was so beautiful, I had to stop and take a photo of it. This is an example of why I often say beauty is everywhere you look. But you have to look, and you have to see. Unless you are power walking for exercise what harm could there be in just walking slowly and looking closely at your surroundings? When something captures your eye (or your heart) just go and see. And yes, looking is different than seeing. Anyone can look, but few seem to be able to really see. All it takes is a little practice.

I saw a very red colored seep. According to what I’ve read this red color in seeps and on river and stream banks is usually caused by iron hydroxide. A seep happens when ground water reaches the surface. It doesn’t flow; it just sits, and will usually stay in liquid form all winter without freezing.

There were lots of skunk cabbages in the seep with their mottled maroon and yellow spathes just starting to show. I went and saw the skunk cabbage with an open spathe that we saw in the last post, thinking I might see the flowers inside, but instead I found that the spathe had closed. That was a first; I’ve never seen them close their spathes before and have never heard that they could do so, but apparently if it gets cold enough they will. I think it got down to around 16 or 17 degrees F. on a couple of nights, so they must have closed up shop in a hurry. Plenty of plants get fooled in spring but I’ve never known skunk cabbages to fall for early warmth.

Lilac buds are getting big and beautiful now. Lilac buds normally have a natural whitish “glue” that keeps the overlapping bud scales from allowing water into the bud where it could freeze and kill the bud. These buds instead had this strip of tan (?) tissue on their leading edges, which was very pretty, I thought.

Yesterday it warmed up again in the afternoon and I must have seen two dozen dandelion blossoms. Here are two of them. Dandelions seem to be raring to go so far this year.

I can’t tell you how happy I was to see these two little yellow crocuses blossoming yesterday. Unfortunately it was supposed to get cold (23 degrees F) last night and it’s supposed to stay cold all of today, so there’s a good chance I won’t see them again. There are plenty more on the way though. As I said in the last post; once spring gets going there is no stopping it.

You must, in order that it shall speak to you, take a thing during a certain time as the only one that exists, as the only phenomenon which through your diligent and exclusive love finds itself set down in the center of the universe. ~Rilke

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Spring in February?

Shortly after I clicked “publish” on the last post I happened to see this out of the corner of my eye while I was driving by. All the trees and the bare granite summit on Mount Monadnock had a frosting of wet snow and it was beautiful. I quickly turned around and found a place to park alongside one of the busiest streets in Keene and got out with my camera. I noticed that drivers were becoming interested either in what I was doing or in what I might be pointing the camera at instead of the road. They were slowing down enough for traffic to start bunching up so I didn’t stay long. Having lived with the mountain for most of my life I can say that what you see here is just about as beautiful as it ever gets. Unfortunately though, most drivers seemed in a hurry to drive right by.

It was warm down in the lowlands that day I took the photo of Mount Monadnock and then it got even warmer, until we ended up with the second warmest first 12 days of February, second only to 2018. Plants responded, as this skunk cabbage shows. According to this blog February eighth in 2020 held the record for the earliest I had seen them until February seventh of this year broke that record. Overall I think this year is quite a lot warmer than 2020 because I didn’t see all the plants and flowers in 2020 that I’m seeing now.

This photo of the same plant was taken five days after the previous one and you can see how the spathe on the left has opened up, tearing itself a bit in the process. Inside the spathe is the spadix, which is what the small flowers grow on. Each day the spathe will open wider to allow early insects access the flower pollen. I saw two or three small insects flying on this day but I couldn’t tell what they were.

Willow catkins are just starting to show. I’m sure all the school teachers will be out cutting them soon to have in their classrooms as they do every year. It’s nice to think of all the younger children getting to see how the bright yellow flowers develop.

I admired a beautiful bud on another willow. It reminded me of a red painted fingernail.

I saw a teddy bear face on another willow. Actually this is a crown gall, which can be caused by bacteria in the soil or a fungus, depending on the host plant. Though this gall shows holes that look like they were made by insects I think they were actually made by a woodpecker. Most galls don’t harm the host plant but crown galls can damage a plant by restricting sap flow and weakening it. Rapid growth of plant cells results in a large, rock hard mass like that seen here. Several ornamental shrubs are susceptible to crown gall. If you find galls on one of yours just Google “Crown Gall on plant name.”

You won’t see many photos of crows on this blog, because they are very smart birds. Point anything at them and they’re gone. I happened to see these birds out in an old field and I wondered if I stayed in the car if they’d let me get a shot. It worked; I shot this through the passenger window while they wandered through the field, ignoring me. I’d bet that if I had gotten out of the car they would have been gone before I could even focus. The two birds in flight seen here were coming in for a landing rather than taking off. Interesting how their black eyes shine in the sunlight. I’ve never noticed that before.

A lady I met in the wetlands the other day told me she had seen and heard red winged blackbirds. They are a sure sign of spring and there are plenty of last year’s cattails waiting for nest building time. Not only do the females use the fluffy seeds to line their nests, they also find nice fat grubs in the plant’s stems. I won’t see them at this pond for a few day though, that’s ice behind them.

Though I haven’t seen any sap buckets yet sap was dripping here and there from the branches of this red maple and the bud scales had loosened and started to open on several of the buds. I expect sap buckets will appear before too long.

Mallards never bothered to go anywhere this year. I’ve seen them regularly since last fall. There are muskrats and beavers living in this stream and they eat the roots of the many cattails growing here. You can see some cattail leaves and stems that have been cut away from the roots floating behind the mallard. In this way they stay well fed and also keep a channel open through the cattails.

Blades of grass were melting their way through this ice. It’s amazing how much warmth anything dark colored generates on a sunny spring day. It’s all energy.

The ice was too thick for this oak leaf to radiate its way through, apparently.

An old willow tree’s branches had turned to gold. It’s the only tree I know of that does this each spring.

American hazelnut catkins are also turning from green to gold. As more sap flows into them they lengthen, become pliable and grow in girth before opening their bud scales and revealing the golden yellow male flowers underneath. The flowers are arranged in spirals around a central stalk, and that can easily be seen here. You can also see the bud scales, which overlap like tiny shingles, just starting to open if you look carefully at the upper left edge of that central catkin. All of these signs point directly to spring. Soon it will be time to look for the tiny female flowers.

The early bittercress plants are blooming. These plants are in the mustard family and are among the first to bloom in spring. They can be a real headache for gardeners. The plants shown here are a mix of hairy and wavy bittercress, I believe.

Bittercress flowers are so tiny this entire bouquet could fit behind a pea. Each flower has four petals and four (hairy) or six (wavy) stamens. The long narrow seedpods, like the one seen here in the background, can shoot seeds several feet, making sure they spread all over a garden. Seeds germinate in the fall, and that’s the best time to pull the small plants; before they flower and set more seeds. It’s always best to make sure that all beds go into winter clean of all but the plants that are supposed to be in them. It’s easier that way.

I saw that a few Cornelian cherry bud scales had opened enough to reveal all the flower buds inside. The tightly packed flower buds looked to be pulling apart and getting ready to open. There’s still room for a lot of cold air in the month of February so I hope they’ll wait. Most of the plants seen in this post are built for cold and they can take it but I think it would kill off Cornelian cherry blossoms. This small tree is in the dogwood family and I see brown, frost bitten dogwood blossoms almost every year. The bud seen here is about as big as a pea.

Magnolias have just one bud scale called a cap, and most of the time they fall off whole but sometimes they’ll do what this one is doing and fool you into thinking there are two scales instead of one. What surprised me about this bud is how it had another hairy bud scale inside the outer one. I can’t remember ever seeing this before.

There are large numbers of daffodils shooting up but I haven’t seen any buds yet. That’s probably a good thing.

Hyacinths are also up, and early. They don’t usually come along unto the crocuses begin to bloom and I haven’t seen a crocus yet.

This dandelion blossom looked as if it had just rolled out of bed and hadn’t had time to fully wake up. There’s also a lot of chickweed in this shot, I see. That will be the next to bloom, before long.

I was happy but not surprised to see the spring blooming witch hazels in full bloom. They’re beautiful and it was nice to see them again.

Though they are native to the United States they are not native this far north but even so I’ve seen them blossom their way through snow storms and very cold weather. Though the individual flowers are small there are so many of them they put on a good show. They also have a wonderful scent that is hard to describe. Maybe a little spicy but also clean and fresh. Some have described it as clean laundry just brought in off the line. They often bloom for weeks depending on the weather, so they would be a great addition to any spring garden.

Yesterday morning was cold and a couple inches of nuisance snow had fallen overnight but it doesn’t matter because spring is on the way. The plants in this post might be slowed down by a cold snap or two but they won’t be stopped. If you aren’t seeing flowers just yet chances are it won’t be long.

Spring is sooner recognized by plants than by men. ~Chinese Proverb

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The Latest Storm

We’ve had another snowstorm since our last visit but unlike what we’ve had so far this year this one was heavy and wet. This kind of pasty snow sticks to everything, as can be seen in the above shot of Mount Caesar in Swanzey. It is the most beautiful of all the different types of snow in my opinion, so I thought you might like to see it. As always, just click on a photo to enlarge it and see more detail.

Nothing escapes it, and it is this kind of snow that William Sharp was speaking of when he said “There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. It is the still ecstasy of nature, wherein every spray, every blade of grass, every spire of reed, every intricacy of twig, is clad with radiance.” 

In this spot the water of the stream was the only thing that wasn’t clad in radiance. In such soft and gentle light it was so very beautiful.

What is truly amazing about this type of snow is how it doesn’t take very much of it to create this kind of beauty. I had maybe four inches in my yard but because it was so wet and heavy those four inches were more like two by the time I shoveled it. Snow this wet usually kind of collapses onto itself into a slushy glop. It’s like shoveling water.

This was a relatively “warm storm” which kept the falling snow from freezing solid until it got colder. If it gets colder immediately after the storm heavy, wet snow can freeze into something similar to concrete. The wise get out and move it quickly before that happens.

If the sun doesn’t come out to melt it this snow can cling to everything for several days, and that’s just what has happened; we’ve seen only cloudy, cool days since it fell. Cool cloudy days give us lasting winter beauty, but if we don’t clean it up before it freezes we’ll be walking on it until the sun shines. This time it looks like the sun isn’t going to do more than peek through the clouds occasionally until almost a full week after the storm. That means we’ve had plenty of time to enjoy it.

If it warms up enough to just barely melt it, this kind of snow quickly turns to ice.

These pieces of ice started out as snow. I thought the piece over on the lower right looked like a water bear, which is a microscopic eight legged creature also called a moss piglet. They, along with lichens, are thought to be close to immortal. If you’d like to learn more about them or just see what they look like, Google “Water bears.” Children will love to see them.

The ice showed that any melting happened quickly and then re-froze almost immediately. I had a lot of fun looking at the endless variety of shapes. Most of what I saw was full of bubbles.

This lobster-like ice on a black raspberry cane was reaching out to a leaf that was still green. Leaves on most brambles are very tough and some will often stay green all winter. Others will turn a beautiful deep purple.  

The ice on this cane looked like a sly eyed slug.

When I saw this I wondered where the idea for Santa’s red and white suit had come from.

I can’t even guess how this drop of ice on a bittersweet nightshade berry might have formed. The berries look like tiny Roma tomatoes when they aren’t mummified like this one was. Birds usually snap them right up but many had been left behind on this particular vine. I’ve given up trying to figure out why birds do certain things like eat all the crabapples from a tree and leave just one or two behind.

The ice on this branch reminded me of a seahorse. Though I didn’t pay attention when I was taking this photo I can see that this was a dead staghorn sumac branch. I can see that from the reddish color of the inner bark and the fact that only a dead tree will have peeling, curling bark.

If the sun doesn’t come out to melt all of the ice on tree branches the wind will take care of it. When you see marks like this in the snow you know that ice pellets have been raining down from the branches. When a good gust of wind comes along it can feel a bit like being in a hailstorm.

This road showed how much ice had fallen from the branches on this day. Once run over and crushed by cars it turns white as snow again. Though this kind of storm can be beautiful it can also wreak havoc by bringing branches and even whole trees down onto electric lines. Thankfully that didn’t happen here this time.

Yesterday afternoon the sun came out and the temperature shot up to 40 degrees, so what fell in this storm can’t last. All we’ll need is a full day of warm sunshine and it will almost all be gone. Also yesterday up on Gobbler’s knob, Punxsutawney Phil the weather predicting groundhog predicted an early spring. However, since Phil has only been right 39% of the time since 1886, I think I’ll wait just a bit before I put the shovel away.

I hope all of you are getting out when you can to enjoy the beauty of the season.

By walking in a snowy forest you can really forget about this world, and every time you forget about this world you leave this world, and every time you leave this world you gain a very special wisdom that does not exist in this world. ~Mehmet Murat ildan

Thanks for coming by.

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Ice and Snow

I had an idea that I’d do a post about puddle ice because thanks to Doreen, who commented on the last post, a mystery I’ve wondered about for most of my life has been solved. It concerns the wave like lines in puddle ice, and it turns out they have nothing to do with waves; they’re caused by the way the water drains out from under the ice. Capillary action causes the water to adhere to the ice above it and form thin bands. What look like wave lines from above show where the ice bands join, and if you break the ice and turn it over you can see how they are created. In essence, the band edges appear as ribs, thicker where a line appears on the surface. This can also happen with pond and lake ice. If you’d like a much better explanation than I’ve given here, here is the link that Doreen sent in. https://www.storyofsnow.com/blog1.php/why-do-frozen-ponds-and-puddles-have-lines

I should say that, as soon as I decided to do a post on puddle ice it snowed and covered all the puddles. And it hasn’t stopped; we’re seeing two or three storms a week. Some, as the above photo shows, are barely deep enough to cover a bird’s toes. But it only takes a dusting to cover the ice on a puddle, so I had to go back to older posts to find that first photo. All the way back 2013 if I remember correctly.

Other storms have dropped a few inches, but no more than 4 or 5. This photo of a spruce cone which was heated by the sun and melted its way down into the snow is a good illustration of our snow depth now. Once the sun gets a little stronger many things will melt their way into the snow. I’ve seen twigs, oak leaves, hemlock branches; basically anything dark colored melt into the snow as the sunshine heats them up.

I gave up on puddle ice and decided to show you other ice forms. A few years ago I visited this stream and found it full of beautiful lacy ice, but this time I found mostly colorful reflections.

I also saw an odd shaped ice bauble floating 3 or 4 inches above the stream.

This ice grew out from the shore but I’m not sure I know how to describe it, so it’s a good thing a picture is worth a thousand words.

This ice, made up of long needle like strands, also grew out from the stream bank. Ice can be fascinating because you never know exactly what shape you will find it in. The variety of shapes and forms seems to be endless.

I went to another stream and found what I call “curtain ice.”

This ice had beautiful clear, pointed crystals on it that looked much like quartz crystals.

Further upstream ice “flowers” had grown on the branches of a streamside shrub. Further up the stems smaller flowers showed how much the depth of the water had changed.

Small, still ponds had iced over but most water bodies with a strong current remained ice free except along their banks. I loved the colors in this ice.

There are many theories about how the spidery shapes seen in ice form but the one thing they all have in common is that they have to start with a hole in the ice. What makes the hole is not agreed upon; some say beavers and /or muskrats chew hole in the ice so they can breathe. I doubt that one. Another theory says that gasses from decaying vegetation on the bottom of the pond keep the ice from freezing in that particular spot. Having seen many vertical strings of bubbles frozen in ice, this theory seems a bit more plausible.

Anyhow, everyone agrees that it has to start with a hole in the ice. Everyone seems to agree that when it snows the weight of the snow causes the ice to sink, and when it sinks water is forced out of the hole. The water wets the snow and darkens it, causing the random spidery shapes. Then it gets cold enough to freeze it all up again, with most of the ice opaque and light colored except for the darker spidery forms.

I once worked for a man who wanted to have a skating party at the small pond on his property, but the surface of the ice was all bumpy and uneven. He hired two of us to flood the surface so it would re-freeze nice and level. We chopped a hole in the ice and with a rented gas powered pump, we pumped the water from the pond out onto the ice. The weight of the water on top of it caused the ice to sink and when it did a gusher came up out of the hole, flooding the ice with too much water to re-freeze before the skating party was to happen.

By the time we left we no longer cared about the skating party; we were freezing, soaked, and disgusted with ourselves for having fallen for such a foolish plan. But the episode makes the theory of the snow weighing down the ice enough to make water come up out of any holes in it a little more plausible to me.

On the coldest day we’ve had this winter (about 16 degrees F.) I went to the Ashuelot falls in Keene to see if there were any ice pancakes forming. Ice pancakes form from the foam that the falling water creates, and there was plenty of foam. Normally on a warmer day this foam would just dissipate and float downstream but in very cold weather it freezes quickly. If you see pancake ice you know it’s quite cold.

The current keeps the frozen foam from forming a into a single sheet by constantly spinning it in large groups that look like spiral galaxies. This also makes the loose foam come together and form circles. When the circles of foam bump into each other they form rims and start to look like pancakes. They can range in size from car tires to cantaloupes, and sometimes smaller. Most of these on this day were nearer cantaloupe size.

This example wasn’t completely round yet but if it stayed cold enough and kept moving it would be. You can see how it is made entirely of foam and how the surrounding loose foam joins the larger circles. I’ve read that pancake ice is very rare outside of the Arctic, even though I see them forming here at least once every winter. In the Arctic, the ice pancakes can stick or stack together and form ridges that pile on top of each other and reach up to 60 feet thick, but here on the Ashuelot they either melt or just float downstream. If you’d like to learn more about this ice form just Google “pancake ice.”

When I was leaving Ashuelot falls I looked upstream and saw what looked like a beaver lodge. How can that be? I wondered. I was here a short while ago and there was no sign of a beaver lodge, and I know they don’t build them that fast. When I got closer I saw that a tree had floated downstream and had gotten hung up on the relatively shallow bottom. What had looked like a beaver lodge was part of its root ball. It really is amazing how many trees fall into this river.

I went to another waterfall, this time at Swanzey lake in Swanzey, and found that the ice had sculpted itself into a strange shape so I took a couple of shots of it. When I looked at the photos later I saw that the camera settings certainly weren’t set for stop action, because the water in the waterfall looked like something I can’t even think of a word for. Silver hair? I don’t know, but I almost deleted this one. It makes me dizzy if I look at it too long.

One of my favorite things to see in the woods is a stream that sunlight has turned to gold. I took this photo last November and apparently forgot about it, but I’m putting it into this post in the hope that it might warm you up a bit after such a cold adventure. There is ice in it but it feels a little warmer than the others. A shawl and a cup of hot chocolate might be just about perfect right now.

He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter. ~John Burroughs

Thanks for stopping in.

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