Bud Break and Other Wonders

Bud break is a very special time on this blog and I try to show as much of it as I can each spring as trees wake up. These are horse chestnut leaves which had just opened out of a thumb size bud, and if you look closely you can see the grape like cluster of flower buds as well. I hope this post will show that while spring is certainly known for flowers, there are other things going on that are just as beautiful.

Bud break is defined as when the tip of a leaf can be seen protruding from the open bud scales, so this red maple bud is a little beyond that. It’s still quite beautiful though.

I could almost hear this red maple yawning as it stretched out its arms in the sunshine. How is it possible to not love life when there are things like this going on all around you?

Older established maples look more like this. Red maples are a very prolific tree. It is estimated that one tree 12 inches in diameter can produce a million seeds. That must mean that we have uncountable trillions of seeds falling each year in our forests. It’s no wonder we have so many red maples.

Other maples are waking up as well. Here a striped maple is in the process of opening its new leaves. As maples go these leaves are among the largest, and that is because it’s an understory tree with leaves that will never see the bright sunshine of the forest canopy, so it has had to adapt to lower light intensity. If you pay attention you’ll notice that plants that can survive in shade almost always have larger leaves.

On Norway maples the flowers appear just before the leaves. Since these flowers have many parts that are all one color they can be challenging to get a good photo of. I had to try several times.

And then of course there are the beech buds, which open to reveal new leaves that look like silvery angel wings. They are among the most beautiful things found in a New Hampshire Forest in the spring. In spring all the beauty, mystery and miracle of life can be found in a single bud, and I suppose that must be why I’ve watched them since I was a boy, and why I’ve always enjoyed this season more than any other. It’s so full of promise and possibilities.

Red elderberry flower buds are nearly ready to open. The flowers will be white and the flower head will be the same shape seen here, not at all like the larger, flat flower heads of common elderberry. These berries will be bright red and the birds will eat them just as soon as they ripen. That’s why you never see photos of them here; I can never get to them before the birds do.

These rose colored blueberry buds will turn white as they open and become flowers. This is when they’re at their prettiest, in my opinion.

Leatherleaf is blooming. This early spring bloomer is in the heath family, as are blueberries, huckleberries, mountain laurel, and of course heaths and heathers. Leatherleaf flowers might look similar to blueberry blossoms at a glance but the growth habit of the two plants is very different. The shrub’s speckled evergreen leaves are very tough, and that’s where its common name comes from.

As with blueberries, the best place to find leatherleaf is along pond shorelines and sometimes along rivers and streams. It likes wet feet so it is one of the first plants to colonize bog mats. You’ll never see blueberry blossoms hanging all along the stem like these flowers do though, so once you know the plant’s habits it’s easy to spot from a distance. I’ve read that leatherleaf provides nesting cover for mallards and other waterfowl. Each flower, after pollination by a bumblebee, produces a single round capsule that will turn brown as it ripens. Birds are said to eat the fruit but there seems to be very little in print about that.

Right alongside leatherleaf and blueberry, you often find sweet gale. These are quarter inch long male sweet gale catkins, with their pretty triangular bud scales. I didn’t see any female plants but there were probably some nearby. Sweet gale is also called bog rosemary. Touching the foliage releases a sweet, pleasant scent from its resinous leaves which have been used for centuries as a natural insect repellent.

Wild ginger flowers have appeared. The plants flower quickly, almost as soon as the leaves appear, so you have to watch for them at this time of year. You can see this plant’s flower in the lower right at ground level. All parts of the plant including the heart shaped leaves are very hairy.

Wild ginger flowers have no petals; they are made up of 3 triangular calyx lobes that are fused into a cup and curl backwards. Reproductive parts are found in a central column inside. Wild ginger flowers are thought to self-pollinate and are said to produce 6 seeds per flower. I’d love to see the seeds but I can never remember to go back and look. Native Americans once used this plant for seasoning just as ginger is used today, but wild ginger has been found to contain certain toxins like aristolochic acid which can cause liver damage, so it shouldn’t be eaten.

This is what bud break looks like on a wild ginger flower bud. This will open to be like the flower seen in the previous photo. The buds are about the size of a blueberry and perfectly round. I found this small colony of plants on a sunny patch of ground in what used to be a homestead, but which has been abandoned for many years. It’s the only place I’ve ever seen them.

Dwarf ginseng takes the prize for the rarest plant in this post. These plants are quite small and easy to miss when they aren’t blooming. The plant at the top could easily fit in a teacup. Individual dwarf ginseng flowers are about 1/8″ across and have 5 white petals, a short white calyx, and 5 white stamens. The entire flowerhead is usually about 3/4″ across. If pollinated the flowers are followed by tiny yellow fruits. This is not the ginseng used in herbal medicine so it should never be picked.

Years ago I found a spot that had 5 or 6 dwarf ginseng plants. Now the colony seen above has grown from those plants. Hopefully one day the plants will cover the forest floor in this spot.

I happened upon a painted turtle convention. There were just as many as what we see here off to the right; so many they wouldn’t all fit into this view, all soaking up the sun. I think this was the most turtles I’d ever seen in one place. Any time now the much bigger snapping turtles should appear.

The above photo is of a hemlock root. That’s all; just an old tree root, but that’s not all of the story. It was in the middle of a trail and it had been worn down by countless feet stepping on it over who knows how many years. The traffic first wore off the bark and then slowly made its way down through the layers of root until it reached the heartwood. You can count the rings in the bark that show how many times it tried unsuccessfully to heal itself. That describes the mechanics of it but it’s hard to describe its beauty. It wasn’t purposely made; it all happened by accident, but it looks like it has been carved and sanded, and then colored with wood stain. In my opinion it’s worthy of having a place in an art gallery as a piece of sculpture. Beauty is where you find it, and you find it everywhere.

There was a time when friends and I used to fish from this spot just below the Ashuelot River dam on West Street in Keene but now I’m more interested in watching the foam patterns on the river than in catching fish. I’ll say it again: Beauty is where you find it, and you find it everywhere.

Google lens tells me this is an eastern pine elfin butterfly so since I don’t know a lot about insects I have to go with that. I do know that it was quite small and fidgety, so I had to take this shot quickly from a yard or so away before I scared it away. That’s why it’s not a very good shot, but I like those eyes so I’m showing it to you. I also liked how furry it was. I’ve read that this butterfly is about the size of your thumbnail and blends into its surroundings so well it isn’t often seen. The caterpillars feed on the needles of the eastern white pine and the butterflies sip the nectar from blueberry blossoms. Pine elfins are said to like to bask in the sunlight on chilly spring days, just as this one was doing.

Sensitive fern fiddleheads have a papery covering over them when they first come out of the soil. Other ferns like the ostrich fern also have this covering. Sensitive ferns also have the same shade of green and a groove in the stem like ostrich ferns but sensitive ferns are not edible and ostrich ferns are, so foragers should know them both well. Sensitive ferns contain toxins that have caused liver and brain damage in horses. That’s probably why deer don’t eat them.

Here is a sensitive fern unfolding from the fiddlehead. Sensitive ferns get their name from their sensitivity to frost, so one cold morning now could wipe out any that aren’t protected by overhead trees. This is one of those ferns that is so common nobody seems to see it.

I think it was two weeks ago that I said I thought coltsfoot flowers wouldn’t last much longer, but nature had other ideas and cool weather kept them going for nearly a month. Coltsfoot gives signals though and one signal is the appearance of leaves. When you see leaves it’s a fair bet that the flowers are on their way out.

Seed heads reinforce the thought that coltsfoot is done for the year. These seed heads are very different than those of dandelion, even though at a passing glance they might look the same.

It’s time for grasses to start flowering and I know that because sweet vernal grass is flowering. It’s one of the earliest grasses to flower in this area. In this photo you can see its deep purple male flowers and its wispy white female flowers. It is also called vanilla grass because it is said to be scented by the same substance that gives sweet woodruff its vanilla like fragrance. This is not the same sweet grass that Native Americans used for making baskets. This grass is short, only growing to about shin high, and forms small clumps with dark, easily seen flower heads as can be seen here. Its flowers are pretty and they’re another sign that spring is really here.

I meant to do my work today, but a brown bird sang in the apple tree, and a butterfly flitted across the field, and all the leaves were calling. ~Richard le Gallienne

Thanks for coming by.

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Things I’ve Seen

In how many forms can the softness of life appear? A mother holding her newborn child comes to mind. Or the feathers on a song bird’s breast. Freshly fallen snow. A favorite pet’s fur. On this day it was new spring leaves. Actually it was more the view across Half Moon Pond and the reflection in it that was so very soft. It made me feel soft, or maybe gentle is a better word. Or tender. But words don’t matter. Nature will bring you softness in its many forms.

When I looked down at my feet instead of across the pond I saw ripples in the sand. But this isn’t the view of a beach; this photo looks through about a foot of water to see these ripples. Nature also brings clarity.

I found what I thought was the dry husk, called an exoskeleton, of a dragonfly on the stem of a pond plant. I’m seeing a lot of them lately and they signal dragonfly emergence from the water. A dragonfly crawls up a leaf or stick as a nymph and once the exoskeleton has dried a bit the dragonfly emerges from it to unfold and dry its wings. When its wings are dry it simply flies away and leaves the exoskeleton behind and that’s what the strange husks are, but this one was different. I believe those are eyes that I see. I can’t explain what look like threads. It’s as if the dragonfly were laced into a costume.

If what I see are eyes this was a dragonfly in the process of emerging from its exoskeleton, and that is something I would have liked to have seen. Unfortunately I didn’t see the eyes until I looked at the photo. The entire creature was barely an inch long.

An old hemlock tree that grew right at the edge of the pond fell and over the years weather has washed every bit of soil from its roots. I thought what was left was as beautiful as a sculpture. I could look at it all day.

Our big snapping turtles are up out of the swamps and looking for suitable places to lay their eggs. They often choose the soft sand around the pond, sometimes right of the edge of the road. They’re right on time; they usually appear during the first week of June. Snapping turtles dig rather shallow holes with their hind legs and lay anywhere from 25-80 eggs each year. Incubation time is 9-18 weeks but many eggs don’t make it anywhere near that long. Foxes, minks, skunks, crows and raccoons dig them up and eat them and destroyed nests are a common sight along sandy roadsides. These big turtles eat plants, fish, frogs, snakes, ducklings, and just about anything else they can catch. Oddly, when in the water they are rather placid and don’t bother humans. This one didn’t pick a very good spot. You can probably see all the tire track in the sand around her.

This mother turtle seemed to have lost her way, or maybe she was just crossing the road. In any event I hope she made it. Some don’t; I’ve seen turtles that have been run over by cars.

Pretty little rosy maple moths almost always show up at about the same time as the snapping turtles start laying their eggs, and that is always fascinating to me. These moths lay their tiny eggs on the undersides of maple leaves and that’s how they come by their common name. Adult moths do not eat but the caterpillars are able to eat a few leaves each. They are called green striped maple worms.

We have a grove of crabapples where I work and they were just coming into bloom when I took this photo. They’re in part of the 13 acre meadow that I mow.

I thought this view of the Ashuelot River might make you think I had caught a tree falling, but actually that dead white pine on the left is falling in very slow motion and has looked like that for a while now. When it finally does fall I think it might almost stretch across the entire river. It’s very tall.

A painted turtle family rested on a log in the waning sunshine. Mother seemed to be more concerned with the littlest one scampering away than with her twins. Or at least that was the story that came to mind as I watched.

Red maple seeds (samaras) are always beautiful. In fact there is little about a red maple that isn’t beautiful.

Silver maple samaras are not as colorful as red maple samaras at this stage but are still beautiful in their way. When they’re young they’re bright red topped off with a white wooly coating and are very beautiful.

You don’t need to live on the seashore to see waves. When the water level in the Ashuelot River is just right waves like these form and people can see this section of river when it is most alive and at its most beautiful. I always try to capture the waves in my camera so I can show you what I saw. I’ve known this river all of my life and it has taught me much, including how to photograph waves.

I find some of the plants and flowers you see on this blog in places like this. Many plants like skunk cabbages like boggy ground and they can find it in these swampy areas. All of this water finds its way into the river in the previous photo, and it helps make the waves that I enjoy watching so much. The streams that flow down from the hills in the distance, the swamp seen here, the river; they are all connected, just as all of life is connected.

The skunk cabbages are having a good year, despite it being so dry last year. Though many plants are flowering like I’ve never seen there are a few that seem to be having a tough time of it.

Someone nailed what looked like a lumberjack cutout to a tree. I can’t even guess why.

Royal ferns (Osmunda spectabilis) have started producing spores. Another name for this fern is “flowering fern,” because someone once thought that the fertile, fruiting fronds looked like bunches of flowers. Royal fern is the only fern that grows on every temperate continent except Australia, which makes it one of the most widespread of all living species. They are also thought to be one of the oldest living things, with fossil records of the Osmundaceae family dating back over 300 million years. Individual plants are thought to be able to live 100 years or more. I always like to show this fern because a lot of people don’t know that it’s a fern. This one lives next to a stream.

I went to Beaver Brook in Keene hoping to see the beautiful trilliums that grow there but instead saw how beautiful the brook itself was. In spring before the leaves are fully unfurled is one of the few times you can see this view. Just up around that corner in the distance grow trilliums, Solomon’s seal, rose moss, dog lichen, blue stemmed goldenrod, purple flowering raspberry and many of the other beautiful plants that you often see on this blog.

I’ve included this photo, taken just after a shower, so you would know that it isn’t always sunny here in New Hampshire. It was taken when droplets were still falling from the trees above, and I heard the steady pat…..pat…..pat of drops as they landed on an oak leaf. When you focus on such a sound you might find that your mind becomes quiet and free of thought. You might also find that the cares and problems that you carried into the woods with you seem smaller somehow, and much less important. Serenity is just one of many gifts that nature has to offer.

Unfortunately, though we have had enough rain lately to nearly end the abnormally dry conditions I’m still not seeing many mushrooms. I did find this one growing on a pine stump. Google lens thinks it’s a scaly sawgill mushroom (Neolentinus lepideus) but I wouldn’t bet the farm on that.

I can’t explain why these oak leaves were so beautifully red in June but I was happy to see them. They felt as silky as they looked.

Grasses like this orchard grass have started to flower and they’re always worth looking at a little more closely because they can be as beautiful as any other flower. Orchard grass seed heads are composed of spikelets that bear two to eight flowers which dangle from thin filaments (pedicels) and shimmer in the breeze, which of course blows the pollen to other grass plants.

Sweet vernal grass is a short, knee high grass that flowers in spring. The white “strings” you see in the photo are its flowers and since this grass doesn’t mind light shade the white is usually very easy to see. One of the most interesting things about this grass is how it smells like fresh cut hay with a bit of vanilla spilled on it, and it is for that reason it is called vanilla grass. I’ve read that the scent comes from the same substance that gives sweet woodruff its fragrance.

Ho hum, just another fallen tree in the forest, right? Not exactly. I like to see what mosses, lichens and / or fungi are growing on fallen trees so I usually look them over. This one was certainly mossy but that isn’t what caught my eye. It was the wound on the log, where enough of the bark had gone to show the beautiful, swirling grain pattern of the wood underneath. What furniture maker, I thought as I admired it, wouldn’t give his eye teeth for a log like this one? I’d love to have a table top made from it. Or even a cane. Which I hope I won’t need right away.

I should explain for the more recent readers how these “Things I’ve Seen” posts began. Years ago I realized that I had a lot of leftover photos after a blog post had been put together. They weren’t bad photos; it was just that they didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. It’s hard to fit a photo of a snapping turtle into a flower post for instance, so instead I used them in this kind of post. Pretty much everything you’ve seen here was just something I stumbled into. That’s also what makes these posts the hardest ones to do, because I sometimes stumble onto something I’ve never seen. But that is fine; the best way to study nature in my experience is to not think about how things should be or how you hope they will be; instead just experience and accept what is, and enjoy it as it comes.

It is very important to go out alone, to sit under a tree—not with a book, not with a companion, but by yourself—and observe the falling of a leaf, hear the lapping of the water, the fishermen’s song, watch the flight of a bird, and of your own thoughts as they chase each other across the space of your mind. If you are able to be alone and watch these things, then you will discover extraordinary riches which no government can tax, no human agency can corrupt, and which can never be destroyed. ~ Jiddu Krishnamurti

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