Plan B

I decided to head out to a favorite path this afternoon. It has all the best elements for a walk; forest, meadow, water, and a bridge. Perfection! I recognized Zigzag goldenrod in the forest, Solidago flexicaulis for the scholarly, so named for its wandering stem.

Among the stumps and tree debris on the forest floor, I saw some bright orange fungus. After googling "bright orange fungus", I came up with an identification of Laetiporus sulphureus or sulphur shelf which is also commonly known as Chicken-of-the-Wood. It is usually attached to hardwood, possibly oak, in this case, and is edible. I would take this with a grain of salt, or not, as I would not eat this in case I am wrong. 

The path enters an open meadow as it heads towards the river. It is a good spot to see wildlife if you walk it earlier in the day. I did see where a beaver had chewed some fresh branches from a willow beside the path. He must have made several trips because a path was worn around the tree and a round passage was made in the deep grasses. I only saw a few butterflies but one of them was a monarch visiting the Joe Pye weed. 

My peaceful reverie was interrupted by a loud drone. I expected to see a swarm of bees or maybe a mosquito from the ice age fly past carrying a hapless chipmunk. Ok, a little fanciful. As it turned out my quiet walk turned into the local airshow, and the drone became several historic aircraft and a few jets. I decided to abort this particular mission and head home for Plan B.

I decided that  I would try to identify some of the unusual things that I have photographed lately. Turns out that the following were all examples of galls. A gall is a unique plant structure that acts as a habitat and a food source for whoever is making the gall. They are often gall wasps and are named according to where they have chosen to construct. The gall below was made by a Diploepsis rosae because it inhabits a field rose. The gall is called a moss gall, mossy rose gall or by the unlikely name of Robin's pincushion gall. Who is Robin?! The inside is a little catacomb of egg chambers and eventually the young really do eat themselves out of house and home. I thought this might be the origin of "you've got a lot of gall", but alas, no.

This oak branch has become the site of oak bullet galls, at least I think so. Oaks host many gall wasp home builders and it is specific to the type of oak and the part of the tree on which it builds. This is a cluster along the twig and the galls seem to be smooth. Later when the insect exits its little gall apartment, it will leave a small round hole and the gall will be dry, hard and hollow. Apparently the tannin found in oak galls was used to make iron gall ink from at least the time of the Romans, and documents written on papyrus remain clearly legible today. The recipe was recorded and is still being used by artists.

This strange structure was found growing on a wild grape vine. A search for weird growths on grapes, determined this to be a grape filbert gall, which is caused by a particular small fly or midge.  Curious to know why it is called filbert, I pressed on. It didn't say. So I looked up "filbert" and found that it is another name for hazelnut, possibly because the feast of St. Philbert falls during hazelnut harvest. So unless someone decided that this gall reminded them in some way of hazelnuts, this may remain a mystery.

Wander often, Wonder always.

Serendipitous

ser-en-dip-i-tous  - occurring or discovered by chance in a happy or beneficial way

I am a wanderer; not in a cosmic sense or on a global scale, but I daily frequent our local trails in search of a happy surprise, that moment of unexpected delight. I'm the one with the camera hanging around her neck peering up into the canopy with a goofy grin, or zig-zagging across the path in danger of being hit by high-speed ninja cyclists or single-minded serious runners with red faces and a playlist. I kind of figure that if you are not going to look and see what is there, you might as well bike or run on the road. Clearly an opinion in the minority.

Today I accessed the Rail Trail from Pleasant Ridge Rd.. It was a perfect day, warm with a light breeze. Having walked these trails many times in the last 20 years, each location is filled with memories of special things seen there in past visits. This particular section of trail is where I saw my first scarlet tanager one spring day. Today there is evidence of fall; the muted yellows of goldenrod, pops of scarlet where the sumac leaves are turning, and the garlands of grape and wild cucumber draping shrubs and limbs of trees.

Fall asters are opening in contrast to the goldenrod and still blooming Queen Anne's Lace.

This part of the trail is raised with deep ditches on either side.  These have filled in with wildflowers and vines. Sprinkled amongst the grasses were tall stems of blue lobelia. 

Resting in the cut grass at the path edge was a mourning cloak. They feed on oak tree sap and had this one been sitting with its wings closed on a tree trunk, it would have been virtually invisible because it's underwings so closely resemble the bark. 

I tried growing obedient plant in my garden, key word here is tried, but never seen it growing wild until now beside this path in the ditch. And not just one one, but a patch, a swathe, a carpet..a whole bunch. I did read that they like to have damp feet, so this deep ditch must be just right. There is a stunning geometry to these tall plants.

On the way back to my car I saw something new. Strange how you can walk by something without noticing it just because it is not colourful or showy. There is probably a life lesson in that statement somewhere. The plants were about six feet tall and were sporting round seed pods about the size of golf balls. I had to check in my book when I came home to confirm that I had seen a globe thistle. Apparently its scientific names mean "resembling a hedgehog", "with a spherical head". Who knew! 

As I was peering over a small bridge, I noticed something different in the grapevines. 

I know it was only small, and also harmless, but I was just as happy that our mutual encounter was from a distance, and not toe to fang on the path. 

Altogether a lovely hour spent on the path with new things to see as well as gentle reminders of times gone by.

"To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty, and in the same fields, it beholds, every hour, a picture which was never seen before, and which shall be never seen again."   Ralph Waldo Emerson