A Burst of Spring

Last Sunday (May 5) was my birthday; let's just leave it at that.  Kali said that she hadn't planned anything special for me, so she said I could choose the venue for a hike.  Though it's hardly a hike (the paths total only 1.2 miles), I chose to go to Jenkins Arboretum to enjoy the splendor of spring.  The arboretum is renown for its impressive collection of azaleas and rhododendrons (mostly non-natives), but the masses of flowering shrubs are overwhelmingly beautiful nonetheless, so we visit in early May each spring.

Along one of the paths

The arboretum had been a private estate, and its owners had amassed this collection over many years.  Now, the site is managed by a non-profit organization.  The organization has built a beautiful, soaring visitor center with meeting rooms and administrative offices, but the real treats can be found along the paths.

Cloudless canopy

The arboretum continues its commitment to azaleas and rhododendrons, adding new varieties every year, but it also focuses on native wildflowers and showy flowering plants from the northern Piedmont.  The paths are lined with native spring ephemerals and ground covers.

White Trillium (Trillium grandiflorum)

Unfurling fronds

Fiddlehead

A study in orange and magenta

In a shaft of sunlight

A small stream flows along the western edge of the arboretum.  The heavily shaded hillside above the rill is dedicated to deep woods, moisture loving wildflowers and ferns.

Kali and the birthday boy

The arboretum encompasses 17 acres.  It is completely surrounded by deer (and neighbor)-proof fencing.  As Kali and I walked the paths, I only noticed one tiny patch of garlic mustard (Alliaria petiolata), an invasive non-native plant - no other weed anywhere!  As we were leaving, I approached an employee who was directing traffic in the parking lot to ask him a few questions.  He was the chief propagator for the arboretum.  I asked him if the garlic mustard had been left along the path on purpose for aesthetic reasons.  He said, no, that he was aware of its exact location, but that the staff just hadn't had time to remove it yet.  I also asked him about the size of the horticultural staff, to which he replied that there were three full-time gardeners working on the property, and that he spent some time in the gardens, too.  Let's see...the arboretum has 3-1/2 employees to take care of 17 acres, and I have 4 stewardship employees to take care of 810 acres in my preserve.  Hmmm...

Oh, and did I mention that this wonderland is open to the public without charge?

Wooly Saturday

I can sympathize

When Kali informed me that we were going to the 40th Annual Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival with two of her colleagues, I decided I'd rather go to the dentist.  (Kali's a fiber artist - especially a weaver and quilter - in her spare time, but because these activities are so time consuming she hasn't woven anything in years, so I questioned the need to spend a sunny spring Saturday perusing yarn she'll never get around to using.)  Also, the festival was at the Howard County Fairgrounds west of Baltimore, a 2-3/4-hour drive each way.  But, being a devoted husband (and owing Kali several favors), I went along grudgingly.

Grooming in preparation for showing - and not too happy about it

The festival bills itself as the largest such festival in the world.  While that might be debatable (there are similar festivals in Rhinebeck, New York, each fall, as Kali's colleagues will attest), what was indisputable was that the place was packed.  And, who knew that there were so many itinerant yarn and wool retailers in the entire world, each of whose booths looked exactly like the booth of the adjacent retailers?

The festival featured wool craft demonstrations (e.g., spinning, weaving, felting - felting's really "big" right now), sheep judging, sheepdog shepherding demonstrations, sheep shearing contests, sheep's milk and goat's milk cheeses and soaps and, of course, lots of grilled lamb - plus all the carnival standards like greasy, Cheese-Whiz larded French fries, Sno-Cones, and hot dogs.

But, the festival also featured lots and lots of sheep of every breed and description.  I was in a pretty sour mood all morning, but once we went into the barns and started looking over the animals, my mood improved significantly and by late afternoon, I was actually enjoying myself.

Jacob sheep (that looked more like goats to me)

The absolute best part of the day was a small moment when I had an opportunity to sink my hand deeply into the incredibly dense, thick wool of a ewe that had yet to be shorn.  It felt like I was immersing my hand into a thick, warm pudding.  When I withdrew my hand, it was coated with greasy lanolin.  Boy, am I a city rube or what?

Sheepdog herding demonstration

Another great moment:  I was astonished at the poses assumed by the sheepdogs.  Though they're thoroughly trained and would never hurt the sheep, when the dogs were moving the sheep around the ring and through challenges, they assumed the pose everyone associates with a wolf about to attack - low on the front legs, ears back, and ready to pounce.  I'd be intimidated and terrified if I were a sheep.

Kali petting a recently shorn alpaca

The shorn alpacas looked like aliens with their huge, unshorn heads and skinny bodies

Kali bought a felting kit and two skeins of wool rovings (carded and dyed wool ready to be spun into yarn or used for felting - a new word for me) and two cones of yarn for weaving.  We also bought a half-gallon of Massachusetts maple syrup (a great price) and two puppets (a Wild Turkey [because we collect all things turkey] and a goat [to attract attention at my preserve's public programs related to invasive plant management]).

Awash in Blue

Trail bridge and bluebells

On Sunday afternoon, Kali suggested that we walk the Schuylkill River Trail in Valley Forge National Historical Park.  The trail parallels the Schuylkill River for three miles, with plenty of river and riparian woodland views.  The absolute best time of year to walk the trail is mid-spring when the Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica) are in bloom, as they were last weekend.  The floodplain is covered in a carpet of blue in all directions. 

Virginia Bluebell

Spring-beauty

Other wildflowers were still blooming; Spring-beauties (Claytonia virginica) were nearly as abundant as the bluebells, but much smaller and more demure, casting a pink haze over parts of the floodplain.

De-silting basin wall

The headwaters of the Schuylkill River drain the anthracite coal region of eastern Pennsylvania.  When coal mining was at its peak, the river ran black with suspended coal sediment.  At the same time, long stretches of the river were used to transport coal.  The river was dammed in many places to create deep, slack water and mules pulled canal boats along the banks of the river between the dams.  Locks allowed the barges to get around the dams.  Because the river was so fouled with coal sediment it had to be de-silted frequently to maintain navigation depths, so the navigation company built de-silting basins along the shore where the black muck could be dredged from the river and allowed to dewater.  One of the de-silting basins - built, but never used - is located in the park along the trail.  This de-silting basin traps water between the uphill side of the basin and the constructed basin wall leading to the development of valuable forested wetland habitat inside the basin.  Even de-silting basins along the river that were used for sediment removal have subsided over time and offer wetland habitat. 

Bluebells amid Ostrich Ferns (Metteuccia  struthiopteris)

At the far (upstream) end of the trail, the pathway is bordered by huge colonies of pawpaw shrubs (Asimina triloba).  I've never seen a fruit on the bushes; I suspect squirrels or raccoons harvest the mushy, banana-flavored fruit when it's ripe in the autumn.

Pawpaw flowers

A young family cruising the Schuylkill River

Who needs a yellow brick road?

The Season of Depression

Most people welcome spring with joy, hope and the promise of renewal.  For Kali and me spring (in part) signals something else altogether.  It's the time when vulnerable baby animals appear.  At one time, more than 25 years ago, our organization provided wildlife rehabilitation services.  Though we haven't accepted orphaned or injured animals in a quarter century, many people still remember us a place where they brought broken wildlife.  Other people simply don't have a clue about where to go with an animal in distress, so they come to "the nature center."  There are two rehabilitation clinics within an hour's drive of our location, but many people are unwilling to make the drive.  So, guess who gets to make a late evening drive when someone drops off an animal after work?

This year's season started out more personally.  On Tuesday evening, the pair of Canada geese that had been brooding eggs on the tiny island in the pond below our house showed up at our bird feeder with six adorable goslings in tow.  We had been feeding the parents earlier in the year (before the female committed to sitting on the nest, day and night, for three weeks), so the geese knew where to get a quick handout - and we were happy to oblige.  Though the world does not need more Canada geese, the goslings are irresistibly adorable, and we were happy to shell out some millet.

On Wednesday, the family failed to appear, and I suspected something had happened.  This pair of geese has (regrettably) used the pond for nesting for the last three years.  (We can tell; the female has a distinctive limp.)  The first year, the water in the pond rose above the level of the nest for several days and the eggs drowned.  Last year, something (likely a snapping turtle) picked off the goslings one by one until there were none.

Last evening, Kali and I went down to the pond and found the adults cruising the surface alone, with no goslings in sight.  Something picked off six goslings in a period of less than a day.  Kali was heartsick; she literally couldn't sleep last night for thinking about the waste of life.  The season of depression has officially begun.

Earth Day Tree Planting

Stewardship Assistant Chris planting a tree aided by local 6th-graders

One of the school districts in our catchment area has committed to bringing all students from 6th- through 9th-grades to my preserve each year for an environmental education outing.  On Earth Day this year (Monday, April 22), about 125 6th-graders (half of the 6th-graders in the district) descended en mass for the morning.  The students broke into four groups, and each group headed for a different activity station.  Throughout the morning, at 45 minute intervals, the students switched stations so that all students got a chance to rotate through all four activities: tree planting, invasive plant control, stream ecology, and pond water testing. 

Smaller trees require smaller holes - always a consideration with 6th-graders

The tree planting occurred near our office.  Last winter, the staff and volunteers spent many hours clearing invasive plants from a hopelessly weedy and vine-infested thicket in preparation for planting this spring with the students. 

Chris positioning a deer-proofing cage while a student readies a stake

The students love getting out of the classroom - especially in the spring when the weather starts to improve.  I'm sure the teachers like the change, too.

At any one time, there were a dozen students planting trees

The second half of the 6th-graders came to the preserve on Tuesday and repeated the activities of the previous day.  Between the two groups, my Stewardship Assistant Chris reported that the students, teachers, and chaperones had planted over 100 trees.

Sunny Spring Sunday

A view upstream along "my" creek

Sunday, April 21 started off with frost on the grass, temperatures hovering just above freezing, and a brisk wind, but the sky was clear.  By the afternoon, temperatures had rebounded into the upper 50s, so Kali and I took a 3-mile walk in "my" preserve.  Spring ephemerals were in full bloom everywhere and walkers were in a good mood.

Sometimes we don't like to walk in "my" preserve because I can see everything that needs to be done and I get discouraged.  Also, I hate to challenge people who are flaunting the rules and walking their dogs off-lead; if the dog owners do put their dog on a lead, they take it off as soon as I have turned the corner.

A mossy rock garden with violets (Viola spp.) spring-beauties (Claytonia virginica)

A Feather for Packrat

On April 1, fellow blogger Desert Packrat (desertpackrat.blogspot.com) posted an image of a feather he had run across in his peregrinations in the Chihuahan Desert outside Las Cruces, New Mexico.  I suggested that the feather had come from the tail of a Northern (Red-shafted) Flicker (Colaptes auratus).  Packrat replied that he had observed flickers at his home high in the Sacramento Mountains east of Las Cruces, but never in the low desert.

During a walk last evening, Kali and I came across the shed tail feather of a Northern (Yellow-shafted) Flicker, the eastern counterpart to the western red-shafted form.  Packrat's and my feathers are identical except for coloration.  Though he may never have seen one in the low desert, I'm reasonably certain that a flicker had shed a tail feather in Packrat's desert.