Cross Country Trail

We have three notable hills on our home cross country course, where I sometimes walk.  They are the...

the...

and the...

I love the fact that these hills have been named.

Imagine a team of runners and coaches challenging these hills day after day, and talking about them afterward as they wipe the sweat off - how hard they were, and how steep!  Someone throws out a name, in jest.  It sticks.  Their collective brain trust comes up with fitting names to reflect their shared experiences in running these hills.

Fiery destruction.  Deadly intention.  Irritating, maddening annoyance.  Signs are put up, naming them.

When they see the signs, runners are reminded that the struggle ahead has been acknowledged, named, and mastered by their fellow teammates.  That's got to be encouraging.

At another cross country meet, out of town, I saw the following on one of the hills of their course:

I loved their sense of pride, and ownership.  Yes, it is a big, steep hill, and it leaves them gasping after they've reached the top, but it's theirs, and they have conquered it day after day.

Life is like that.  A challenge we have to face can seem insurmountable.  "I'll never be able to get up that hill!" So name it.  Own it.  Conquer it step by step.

Red-Bellied Woodpecker

It was a bright, beautiful morning when arrived at a local park to take my walk.  I was just getting the lens cap off my camera when I heard a bird close by.  Looking up, I saw this fellow.

He was singing his heart out.  It was such a lovely morning, that I felt my spirits lift with his as we took in the moment.

I was glad to have a chance to photograph a woodpecker against a blue sky. Normally when I see them, it is under the forest canopy, and there are usually branches and leaves impeding a clear view.

This last picture shows the slight reddish tinge on his belly - hence the name.  You might think that this fellow should be called a red-headed woodpecker, as his head is so much more red than his belly, but that name is given to another woodpecker who has much more red on his head.  (If you click on the photo, it will enlarge.)

I was unable to get a photo of his back, which has black and white bars - very pretty.

Endangered Mussels

There are 4 federally endangered mussels on the Mississippi.  They are the Winged Mapleleaf, Higgin's Eye Pearlymussel, Fat Pocketbook, and Scaleshell.

Federally endangered means they are in real danger of going extinct.  A lesser designation would be "threatened".

Why should we care?  Because mussels filter millions of gallons of water each day.  They keep our water clean.

What can we do to help?  For starters, we can learn about an exotic species that has invaded our waterways, and that is the Zebra mussel.  They grow thick and fast, and can carpet the bottom of rivers, choking out the native mussels.  Zebra mussels also attach themselves to the bottom of boats, which is one way they are spread - being transported from lake to lake or river to river.  If you are a boat owner, you can inspect your craft and clean it off every time you come off the water.

Handsome Mussels

It's always exciting to be walking along a shore and find shells - whether it is an ocean beach or a river bank.  Around here, you can find freshwater mussels.  The trick to further enjoyment is learning to identify them.

As I have tried to master this task, I have delighted in their odd and descriptive names:  Washboard, Spike, Elktoe, Ebonyshell, Sheepnose, Wabash Pigtoe, Pistolgrip, and my personal favorite - the Purple Wartyback.

I haven't yet learned to identify them, so I'm just sharing some pictures of mussels here as things of beauty.

And yes, I can't help but add a little etymological nugget.  As you might guess, "mussel" comes from the word "muscle", but THAT word comes from the Latin "musculus" which means "little mouse".  How's that for cute?

Sumac

Here's another little friend of mine - sumac.

I've always liked sumac because it is easy to identify.  There's an absolute jungle of shrubs and trees out there in the world, and they can all look the same, but not sumac.  It's very distinctive, with its red bobs, which are called drupes.

The drupes can be used to make a kind of lemonade.  They have also been used as a spice, and a dye.  However, you'd want to be very sure what kind of sumac you were using.  Consult an expert to avoid ingesting anything toxic.

One common types of sumac is smooth sumac.  Another is staghorn sumac, which has a fuzzy texture to its branches, like velvet on antlers.  You can see that in this photo:

Sumac grows in stands.  You might see cutleaf sumac, a domestic variety, where the leaves are toothed, or jagged.  And then there is poison sumac, which has white drupes.  Avoid that like the plague.

The word "sumac" traces its etymology down through the ages, back through Old French,  Medieval Latin, Arabic and finally back Syriac.  I loved learning this, because I had figured it was a Native American word.  And what do you think that original Syriac word "summaq" meant?  Red.

Central Park's Resident Red-Tail

Speaking of red-tailed hawks, here is a great book I found recently.  It's such an awesome book!

It's the true story of off-color red-tailed hawk, the Pale Male, who adopts Central Park and its environs as his territory.  In an interesting and beautiful way, it covers his mates, their challenges and offspring, and his fame.  

Written by Janet Schulman, this is a wonderful book for children, but adult readers will enjoy it just as much.  (I don't know about you, but I've got a penchant for picture books, even at my age.)  The super illustrations by Meilo So, combined with the real life facts in the text, make a great story.  Look for it at your local library!

A Gift

I went for a walk in one of my favorite wild spots on the river.  It was early morning, and cool out.  I had the whole place to myself, and gloried in all the greenery.  Everything was interesting.  I traveled the entire length of the trail.

On my way back, there on the pathway, was a gift.  It was a red-tailed hawk feather.  Here it is, in situ:

It had not been there when I first came through the other way.  I felt like it had been placed there, just for me to find.  It was right smack in the middle of the trail.  I actually looked around to see if someone had placed it in my way, but of course no one was there.

It was beautifully crafted - a fleeting piece of fine art.

Feeling that it had been deposited there just for me, as a gift to elevate my day, it was hard to leave it there.  But I did.  I know the principles of Leave No Trace.  We should leave what we find.  Also, it's illegal to keep a red-tailed hawk feather without a permit, due to the Migratory Bird Treaty Act.  So I left it there on the path for the next passerby, and took these pictures to remember it by.

Crawfish Chimney

"What is that?!" I asked myself, when I came across this little structure out in the woods, a couple hundred yards from a marshy pond.  It stood about 3-4 inches high, and was made up of little chunks of mud piled up on top of each, forming a chimney.  I had never seen anything like it before.

Hyperion knew, of course.  He always does.  When I showed him my photos, he said, "That's a crawfish chimney."  And so it is.

Crawfish carry each individual wad of mud up to the top of their burrow, one by one, as they excavate - thus creating the chimney, and their home, sweet home.

Crawfish are also known as crayfish, crawdads, and colloquially - mud bugs.  Crayfish comes from an old French word - "escrevisse".  The "visse" part sounded similar to fish, and so the word morphed into crayfish.  The "craw" part was a further mutation of the word.  Escrevisse came from an old Frankish word (who knew?!) - "krebitja", meaning crab.  I just love following these sorts of word trails!

Purple Violets

Purple Violets in the spring woods.

Purple was a color associated with royalty, and the wealthy - the only ones who could at first afford to wear it.  The word purple comes from the Latin word "purpura", relating to the shellfish from which this early dye was made.

Early Trails

The halcyon days of my childhood were spent in the woods.

There I explored the Mississippi, shoulder to shoulder with Marquette and Joliet.  In the small, yellow meadows I pulled a travois, moving with my tribe.  Under the green shade of the pines, I was an Elvish princess.

Acorns ran through my fingers like pirate treasure.  Every pebble was a gemstone, and every fallen tree a ship I could sail.  I fashioned spears out of sticks and ranged far afield.  I was a great warrior, a fleeing captive, a pioneer trailblazer.

There was a great peace in the woods for me.  I loved to be there, and think my thoughts.  There was always some new trail to follow or grove to explore – always some new sound to identify.  All this fed my heart and my imagination.  And today, every time I step foot on a new trail, I carry the memories of those early days in my back pocket.

Starry False Solomon's Seal

All spring I was looking for Solomon's Seal.  I would often think I saw its leaves, but I didn't feel I could be sure until there were flowers to look at.  Finally I came across some with blossoms, and felt sure I had found it.

Once I compared my photos to those in field guides, I realized I was mistaken.  Further research led me to False Solomon's Seal, but again, there was not an exact match.  Finally I came across the plant called Starry False Solomon's Seal, and that is what I think I have here.

This is a native plant.  It is also called Starry False Lily of the Valley.  It's scientific name indicates a May flower that is star-like.  As for the Solomon's Seal portion of the name, it is a reference to a legendary signet ring said to have been worn by King Solomon.

Tarsal Glands

I got up one morning determined to photograph some white-tailed deer.  I had seen one last fall, on the river, but had failed to get a clear shot of him.  I headed back to the same spot and walked along very quietly.  I was in luck!

I found three deer, feeding quietly in a marshy spot in the woods.  At first I only saw a big doe, but then I saw two others, further back in the trees.  They were very calm and looked at me as if to say, "Who in the world are you, and what are you doing here?"

When I got home and looked at the photos, I noticed an odd, dark mark on the inner "elbow" of the back leg of one of the deer.  Not being familiar with deer, I wondered if this was an infected wound of some kind.  (See below)

Looking at further pictures, I found that this deer had a matching spot on its other back leg.  I realized that these dark spots must be natural, and  I soon learned that they were tarsal glands.

Tarsal glands are areas of long hair on the back legs of deer, over sebaceous glands.  Deer urinate on them.  This is called rub-urination.  The secretion from the glands and chemicals in the urine combine on the hairs to create what is suspected to be a uniquely identifying scent for each individual animal.  All deer, old and young, male and female do this, but bucks are known to do it much more frequently during the rut.

Robins

Fat

Skinny

Early

Mallards

Had the pleasure of coming across these mallards recently.  Here's a drake.  I like his shiny, iridescent head and yellow bill.  He was swimming in a creek.  I love how his black tail feathers curl so perfectly in the back.

Here's a hen.  She was enjoying a temporary pond, filled with a superfluity of rain water.  I like the patch of blue on her wing, and the orange of her bill and feet.

After looking at my photos of this hen, I wondered if her bill was just muddy, or if it was naturally colored this way.  After some research, I learned that all such hens have a two-toned bill.

Black Barrel Mystery

Found this in the wood.

The barrel buckled as the tree grew and pulled the metal band tighter.

It had this label:

There were holes drilled in the bottom.

Found a second one, further on in the woods.  It still had a lid.  Netting was sticking out.

This one had a different label, with a "1" instead of a "2".

What they were for?  Animal homes?  What kind were they meant for?  How long had they been there?  Were there any more?  I looked but didn't find any others.

I searched on the internet for clues, but came up with nothing.  They remain a mystery.

Garlic Mustard

"It's evil!  It grows like crazy and kills other plants," said Jason, when I asked him what he knew about garlic mustard.  Yes folks, that about sums it up.

Garlic mustard is an invasive species that has taken a strangle-hold in several states, starting on the eastern seaboard and moving west.  It has even jumped the Mississippi River.  In some of these places, it has become the main plant in the forest under-brush.

Does it really kill other plants?  Well, it doesn't bite or stab them, but it does put out a chemical in the soil that suppresses a naturally-occurring fungi which many native plants and trees need to grow.  Also, according to the National Park Service, it "...outcompetes native plants by aggressively monopolizing light, moisture, nutrients, soil and space."  So, yeah, it takes everything they need to live, causing them to not live.

And how did Jason learn so much about it?  Mainly from a scout leader out at camp, who has a personal vendetta against the plant.  He can often be spotted pulling the plant up around camp, root and all.  Many are the scouts who have been unsurreptiously enlisted in his cause.  He's one of many people in the area that attend Garlic Pulls in the spring, to try to help eradicate this plant, or at least slow it's spread.

Gray Squirrel

Gray squirrel:  from the genus Sciurus, which is made up of two Greek words - "skia" meaning shadow, and "oura" meaning tail.  Shadow Tale.  Isn't that a cool name?  Sounds like a Redwall character.  (Thank you, Wikipedia!)

This one was kind enough to sit for a portrait for me.

Next he was bounding off.

Look at his cute little feet!  (Click on the photo to enlarge.)