which flowers live
and which die
Showing posts with label wildflowers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wildflowers. Show all posts
Sunday, June 3, 2018
Monday, September 18, 2017
Sunday, August 20, 2017
Posted with BlogsyTuesday, August 8, 2017
Friday, June 9, 2017
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Sunday, June 29, 2014
June 27-29: Weekend at Claybrook Mountain Lodge
Visited the mountains of western Maine for a three-day birding weekend guided by my friend Derek of Freeport Wild Bird Supply, and based at Claybrook Mountain Lodge. The Lodge, in Highland Plantation, is owned by dear friends Greg and Pat Drummond, and Greg also helped guide us around the area.
We visited quaking bogs, beaver ponds, the shores of Flagstaff Lake, meadows full of wildflowers, and wooded trails throughout the area, often with the dramatic Bigelow Mountains looming in the background. In addition to the Lodge's rustic charm and comfort, Pat's excellent cooking, Greg's storytelling, and the beautiful natural setting on a perfect Maine summer weekend, the group enjoyed many excellent birding adventures.
Our first evening as we sat on the porch of the Lodge, we were serenaded by tree frogs and peepers. We walked down the road at dusk, and Derek tried calling in a Barred Owl. As it grew darker, more and more fireflies flashed in the fields.
Highlights: Swainson's Thrush and Veery singing into dusk, sapsucker couple tending nestlings at a nest hole, night sky teeming with stars.
Last sunlight lingers
up on the mountain ridge.
Tree frogs begin to sing.
While waiting for owls,
I catch fireflies.
Stars too blink on.
Firefly blinking
on my bedroom window sill--
perfect night light.
Saturday we visited several bogs, drove dirt roads, wandered bug- and warbler-filled woods trails to beaver ponds, and ate lunch at a private beach on Flagstaff Lake where I got in my first swim of summer. At dusk, we paused near several fields hoping to hear a Whip-poor-will.
Highlights: Bluebird family at the Lodge, Snowshoe Hares, bog flora, bitterns, whinnying snipe, a single Palm Warbler, White Admiral butterflies everywhere, a very aggressive baby Garter Snake, bird accidentally flushed from a ground nest while I was trying to photograph a patch of Twinflower, several dainty does, more sapsucker nest holes full of whining nestlings, Common Merganser carrying her chicks on her back across the lake, dozens of roadside moose and deer tracks, Hooded Merganser hen with chicks on a glassy pond at sunset, spectacular firefly light show, a single bat.
Patch of pitcher plants--
red-veined cups of rain
offered up to the morning.
Baby garter snake
strikes without hesitation
Greg's much larger hand.
Sorry, mother bird.
I didn't know those flowers
were hiding your nest.
Such a hot day
the underwear I swam in
dries under my clothes.
Instead of Whip-poor-wills--
baying hound dog,
campers' fireworks.
This morning, we visited several regenerating clear cuts in our quest for a Mourning Warbler and explored the ferny, wooded trails around the Lodge. Our birding adventure finished up with a visit to Gilman Pond and some nearby farm fields and wetlands in North New Portland, where we flushed a bittern and a family of snipes.
Highlights: Mourning Warbler at last (warbler species #19 for the trip), telephone pole chewed thin by bears, a sweep of Maine's frog species, vocal baby snipes!
Sun-warmed wild berries
picked along the trail--
sweetness with a little grit.
On the mountainside
patch of clear cut forest
a different shade of green.
Flushed bittern--
we watch it flap out of sight
slowly over the marsh.
We visited quaking bogs, beaver ponds, the shores of Flagstaff Lake, meadows full of wildflowers, and wooded trails throughout the area, often with the dramatic Bigelow Mountains looming in the background. In addition to the Lodge's rustic charm and comfort, Pat's excellent cooking, Greg's storytelling, and the beautiful natural setting on a perfect Maine summer weekend, the group enjoyed many excellent birding adventures.
Our first evening as we sat on the porch of the Lodge, we were serenaded by tree frogs and peepers. We walked down the road at dusk, and Derek tried calling in a Barred Owl. As it grew darker, more and more fireflies flashed in the fields.
Highlights: Swainson's Thrush and Veery singing into dusk, sapsucker couple tending nestlings at a nest hole, night sky teeming with stars.
Last sunlight lingers
up on the mountain ridge.
Tree frogs begin to sing.
While waiting for owls,
I catch fireflies.
Stars too blink on.
Firefly blinking
on my bedroom window sill--
perfect night light.
Saturday we visited several bogs, drove dirt roads, wandered bug- and warbler-filled woods trails to beaver ponds, and ate lunch at a private beach on Flagstaff Lake where I got in my first swim of summer. At dusk, we paused near several fields hoping to hear a Whip-poor-will.
Highlights: Bluebird family at the Lodge, Snowshoe Hares, bog flora, bitterns, whinnying snipe, a single Palm Warbler, White Admiral butterflies everywhere, a very aggressive baby Garter Snake, bird accidentally flushed from a ground nest while I was trying to photograph a patch of Twinflower, several dainty does, more sapsucker nest holes full of whining nestlings, Common Merganser carrying her chicks on her back across the lake, dozens of roadside moose and deer tracks, Hooded Merganser hen with chicks on a glassy pond at sunset, spectacular firefly light show, a single bat.
red-veined cups of rain
offered up to the morning.
strikes without hesitation
Greg's much larger hand.
I didn't know those flowers
were hiding your nest.
Such a hot day
the underwear I swam in
dries under my clothes.
Instead of Whip-poor-wills--
baying hound dog,
campers' fireworks.
This morning, we visited several regenerating clear cuts in our quest for a Mourning Warbler and explored the ferny, wooded trails around the Lodge. Our birding adventure finished up with a visit to Gilman Pond and some nearby farm fields and wetlands in North New Portland, where we flushed a bittern and a family of snipes.
Highlights: Mourning Warbler at last (warbler species #19 for the trip), telephone pole chewed thin by bears, a sweep of Maine's frog species, vocal baby snipes!
picked along the trail--
sweetness with a little grit.
On the mountainside
patch of clear cut forest
a different shade of green.
Flushed bittern--
we watch it flap out of sight
slowly over the marsh.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
May 4: Mayflowers
I spent several hours tramping around the greening woods of the Ducktrap River Preserve this morning. Some first spring sightings of warblers, including a beautiful sunlit view of a singing Blackburnian amid the hemlocks, and some first wildflowers, like this Trailing Arbutus.
Commonly called mayflowers, Trailing Arbutus flowers are often tucked away under its big leathery leaves. My grandmother, who would have been 99 in a few days if she were still alive, loved these best because they always bloomed in time for her birthday. And if you get down on your hands and knees and put your face close, you can smell their subtle, sweet fragrance.
It's a bit like prayer--
head down on the forest floor
sniffing the mayflower.
Commonly called mayflowers, Trailing Arbutus flowers are often tucked away under its big leathery leaves. My grandmother, who would have been 99 in a few days if she were still alive, loved these best because they always bloomed in time for her birthday. And if you get down on your hands and knees and put your face close, you can smell their subtle, sweet fragrance.
It's a bit like prayer--
head down on the forest floor
sniffing the mayflower.
 |
| Trailing Arbutus blooming on the banks of the tea-brown Ducktrap River |
Monday, July 16, 2012
July 16: Roadside, Crow
Wildflowers flourished along the Vermont roadside as I headed home this morning. I was impressed with the lush growth of flora; the verge beyond the paved shoulder is often mown flat. Here and there amid the cornflowers, black-eyed Susans, and Queen Anne's lace would appear a single crow, standing just the right distance from the speeding cars, almost obscured by the tall weeds. Perhaps the road's edge is a good spot for gleaning bugs or to await road kill. I didn't see any other birds until somewhere in New Hampshire, when I counted four vultures soaring over the highway.
Just by chance the crow
poses prettily with the
roadside wildflowers.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
May 13: Wildflowers
Because I only carry a pocket-sized point-and-shoot camera, when I'm hiking around I don't take many photographs of birds. Even with a 16x digital zoom, it doesn't have the capacity for a good bird shot. Most of the ones I try are of the "that dark blob there is the bird!" variety. But even when I'm birding, I'm not always looking up in the branches or in the sky. This time of year, especially, I try to also notice what flowers have returned along with our spring birds. Some I've known since childhood, their familiar presence on the forest floor linking me in memory to years of tromping around these local woods: Canada mayflower, trilliums red, white, and painted, hepatica, trailing arbutus, bloodroot, moccasin flower (lady's slipper), bellwort or wild oats, trout lily, rhodora, violets, clintonia... Not all of these are blooming yet, but I'm happy to find even the bright new leaves themselves poking up through the forest duff, knowing flowers will soon follow.
I've realized that a photo is a great tool for recording a plant species I'm not familiar with, to look up later in my wildflower guide. Yesterday, I learned that I'd come across wild ginseng and golden Alexander. Today, wood anemone. Part of my wanting to know and remember the names of all these flowers is the simple desire for knowledge. Knowledge equals power, after all. But there's more to it than that: to know what lives in a place is essential to truly coming to know that place. It's like living in a neighborhood. If you don't know your neighbors, you'll never feel a real attachment to the place, no matter how long you live there. This is my home. I know my neighbors; I know the woman who owns the corner grocery. But when I'm in the nearby woods, I also feel at home there. Here are the little green flags of Canada mayflower among the hemlocks; here is the rhodora in that same wet patch of the field; and here's the hummingbird come to feed.
The hummingbird too
knows wildflowers, rejoices
in their re-blooming.
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| Wild Ginseng |
 |
| Golden Alexander |
 |
| Rhodora |
 |
| Wood Anemone |
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