December's One Trail Twelve Times walk was scheduled for December 16, but several days in advance the forecasters said that there was a good likelihood that we'd have rain that Sunday afternoon. So, to ensure that I'd have a visual record of the Beech Springs Trail in December, I walked the trail to take photographs on Thursday afternoon, December 13. Sunday afternoon wasn't rainy, but it was misty and foggy, and the small group of walkers decided to tackle the trail anyway despite the dampness - a good decision, because we all enjoyed this final episode of the series spanning twelve months. When I returned from the trail,though, I downloaded the images I had taken with the group and realized that the setting on the camera had slipped and many of the images I had taken, especially early into the walk, were too dark. So, the following Tuesday morning, December 18, I returned to the trail and recaptured some of the ruined images. All this is to say that the images below are a compilation of the best images captured during three walks on the Beech Springs Trail this month.
|The beginning of the trail in mature woods|
Soon after we entered the mature woodland at the beginning of the trail, I noticed Spotted Wintergreen (Chimaphila maculata) growing alongside the trail. This handsome native ground cover is probably present year round, but simply lost amidst the Japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica) growing more vigorously on the forest floor. We've undoubtedly walked by this plant 11 time before and never noticed it.
|In keeping with the theme, notice Spotted Wintergreen's red stem|
|Hips on multiflora rose (Rosa multiflora) at the wood's edge|
|Sunday's walkers emerging from the woods into the foggy meadows|
|Blackberry leaves (Rubus spp.)|
|Another blackberry variation|
Non-native and highly invasive porcelain-berry (Ampelopsis brevipedunculata) is my biggest invasive plant headache. This Asian member of the grape family (Vitaceae) becomes established in a field when birds eat its fruit and defecate the seeds. Then, the perennial vines clamber up anything that will support them (usually a tree), and the roots run underground and send up periodic sprouts, spreading the infection ever wider. The roots become very, very thick and full of stored nutrients, so repeated cutting barely fazes the plant. One it gains a foothold in a field like this, it is very difficult to control because broad-leaf herbicides that kill porcelain-berry kill all the desirable broad-leaf plants, too.
|Tuliptree (Liriodendron tulipifera) samaras awaiting a strong, dispersing wind|
|View across the winter old-field|
This is a porcelain-berry "knot" in the middle of the grassy trail. I don't know what the technical botanical term of this feature is, but my staff and I call it a knot. As I mentioned above, well-established porcelain-berry roots send up sprouts periodically, allowing this pernicious plant to colonize new areas. The knots can have a half-dozen vine sprouts, each one trying to ascend into the forest canopy. When we established the trail, we cut several of these root-sprout knots; repeated trail mowing has caused the sprouts to die back, but I'd bet that the roots below are still alive.
|Lenticels on a bird cherry sapling (Prunus avium)|
With nearly all the vegetation died back, I devoted quite a bit of time during the walk to searching for mantis egg cases attached to the stems of plants, but the only cases I found were attached to sweetgum saplings (Liquidambar styraciflua). Though it was probably intuitive, such placement was good planning on the part of the the mantids because the herbaceous old-field vegetation will get mowed in early spring, while the saplings - and their attached egg cases - will be spared.
|Red-osier dogwood (Cornus sericea) in the wet meadow|
|Dried fern fronds and a single sprig of Deer-tongue Grass (Panicum clandestinum) in the wet meadow|
|Silvery-white leaf in the wet meadow|
|Entering the woods on the opposite side of the old-field meadow|
|The toppled tree over the lower end of one of the spring runs; I've featured this tree during each month's post|
|The head of one of the springs, buried under fallen leaves|
|Skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) poking through the leaf litter|
The trail's eponymous springs only run a few hundred feet through the forest before they discharge into a small, perennial tributary of our main creek. Though I've posted images of the springs before, I had yet to venture off trail to get images of the stream itself.
Most of the stream's watershed is developed, either with houses on large lots, or as part of a huge (40-acre) grassy field used annually for a fundraising carnival and horse show by our local hospital. So, the stream is very "flashy" - bearing modest flows most of the time, but turning into a raging torrent during storms. Water quality is not particularly bad, but the floods scour the stream bed, carry lots of suspended sediment, and erode the banks, so the stream is not really much of an aesthetic amenity.
|Ferns amidst the flood-washed roots on the stream bank|
|The stream itself; note the extraordinarily wide channel in relation to the watercourse, all a result of the severe flooding the watercourse endures|
|Shades of gray on a white oak (Quercus alba)|
|Green-gray lichen on a fallen limb|
|The group decided that the striking red color on this limb was produced by a fungus|
|Shadows on an American beech (Fagus grandifolia)|
|One of the trees (in this case, a red oak [Quercus rubra]) brought down by Hurricane Sandy|
|Back out into the meadow|
|A luminous goldenrod (Solidago spp.) seedhead|
|Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) seed capsule|
|Wending through the meadow|
|A riot of reds (on blackberry canes)|
|Another type of goldenrod gall|
|Prostrate dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) blooming in the trail|