Springtime in My Preserve

Virginia bluebells and violets on a fence line

The Bald Eaglets nesting in my preserve have hatched two chicks.  Both of the eaglets seem to be doing well.  The parents have switched from feeding on roadkilled deer to fish taken from my creek - most likely hatchery-raised trout that our Fish and Boat Commission stocks for anglers.

There's a camera that takes still images every two minutes trained on the nest; the camera is about 500 feet from the nest, so the image resolution isn't always great, but some of the images clearly show two rapidly developing eaglets.  These are the first eagles nesting along our section of the creek in at least 160 years (other eagles have nested at the mouth of the creek adjacent to the Delaware River over the last few years, but they aren't nesting there this year).  If you enlarge the image below, you'll see the female to the left of the upright trunk and one of her offspring to the right. 

Bald Eagle mother and one of the eaglets

Dame's-Rocket at the Woodland Edge

I escorted the daughter of one of our donors on a short walk across one of our meadows last Friday.  The daughter was in town from California, and wanted to visit the bench we had installed in memory of her brother who died after falling from a cliff in Ontario.  Both she and her brother loved our natural area, and this woman stops by every time she's in town.

En route to the bench, we passed an impressive stand of dame's-rocket (Hesperis matronalis) at the edge of the woods.  I stopped to make a few images while my guest watched a Baltimore oriole tend to its nest overhead.

I like everything about dame's-rocket, from its name to its flower.  Well, almost everything: it's not native. 

According to Wikipedia, the plant has many common names (e.g., damask violet, dame’s violet, dames-wort, dame’s gilliflower, night-scented gilliflower, queen’s gilliflower, rogue’s gilliflower, summer lilac, sweet rocket, mother-of-the-evening and winter gilliflower), but I've only ever known it as dame's-rocket.  The "rocket" moniker denotes its membership in the Brassicaceae, or mustard family.

The genus name, Hesperis, wonderfully exotic and pleasing to speak and hear, is Greek for evening -  probably a nod to the fact that  the scent of the flowers becomes more conspicuous towards sunset.

Dame's-rocket was brought to North America from Europe in the 17th century and has since become naturalized.  The plant is considered an invasive species in some areas; in fact, three states have designated it a noxious weed and have prohibited its sale, importation or cultivation.

Dame's-rocket is fairly common in open woodland glades in my preserve where it grows profusely.  Isn't it interesting (and hypocritical) that I'm willing to tolerate (and even enjoy) this fragrant, lovely, non-native weed while I will go to nearly any length to uproot, deflower, and poison its non-native cousin garlic mustard (Alliaria petiolota)?

Garlic mustard

Spring Spectacular

My favorite azalea at the Jenkins Arboretum

What a great spring weekend!  I accompanied the dedicated group of birders that frequents my preserve for their annual Spring Bird Count on Saturday morning.  We were out in the field for 4-1/2 hours, during which time we tallied 65 species (and I got a bit of a sunburn when the sun came out from behind the clouds during the last two hours).  Included in the list were 13 species of warblers; they were the main reason that I went on the bird walk because the warblers are only here for a few days each spring and fall during migration, and I get "rusty" on my identification skills.  The birders all proclaimed this year to be one of the best years for spotting warblers in decades.

Actually, the great "weekend" began one day earlier.  As I was scooping birdseed from my storage can in preparation for filling my feeder early on Friday morning, I heard a terrific "thwump" on the window behind me and knew instantly from that sickening sound that a bird had flown into the window.  I thought it was probably one of the Blue Jays that had been at the feeder a minute earlier fleeing from a hawk. But no, it was an Ovenbird, an aberrant warbler that looks like a tiny thrush.  Fortunately, the bird was just stunned (and not killed) from the impact, which allowed me to gently lift it off the ground and give it a good inspection - including the orange cap that is almost never visible in the field.  I placed the bird back on the ground and 15 minutes later, when I went outside again, it flew off.

Ovenbird (Seiurus aurocapillus) Image courtesy of Audubon

On Sunday (Mother's Day), Kali and I invited our friend Greta to join us on a visit to the Jenkins Arboretum, a 20-acre gem embedded in the Philadelphia suburbs.  Formerly a private estate, Jenkins is now a public garden featuring a native woodland planted extensively with azaleas and rhododendrons.  We chose Mother's Day because the azaleas were at their floriferous peak, and the native woodland wildflowers cultivated throughout the gardens were also at their best.  In two weeks, the whole spring "show" will be over.

Azalea and Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica)

I liked the contrast of the delicate  young maidenhair ferns over the strap-like trout-lily leaves

Along a path

Trillium grandiflorum (Large-flowered Trillium)

I am so jealous of Jenkins.  We saw only one miniscule stand of garlic-mustard (Alliaria petiolata) that the gardeners had missed in their quest to rid the garden of non-native invasive plants, and the entire property is surrounded by deer fencing.  So, Jenkins can support luscious population of several species of trilliums about which I can only dream (because trilliums are "deer candy").

Pinxter-bloom azalea

Our stroll ended along a path winding through a dense planting of native azaleas (Rhododendron periclymenoides).  These sweet-smelling azaleas have the common name of pinxter-bloom or election pink (because of the color of their flowers and the time of year in which they bloom).

I liked the contrast between the dark, coarse bark and the delicate pink flowers

"San Diego" Easter Sunday Ramble

Cut-leaved Toothwort (Dentaria laciniata)

Those of us living in the humid northern Piedmont with seemingly perennial "eastern gray" skies tend to call cool, cloudless, low-humidity weather "San Diego days" in reference to the nearly perfect conditions enjoyed by San Diego residents.  (My brother-in-law lives there and Kali and I have visited him often.  It's not always "perfect," but it comes a lot closer than the northern Piedmont does in terms of pleasant weather year-round.)  In any case, Easter Sunday was a "San Diego day," and Kali and I took a 5-mile ramble through the city park downstream of "my" preserve to revel in springtime.  We walked downstream along one bank of the creek, then returned to our car along the opposite bank. 

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria candensis)

Though the leaves were common throughout the walk, this was the only bloodroot blossom I observed, so I'm glad I photographed it.  All the other plants had finished blooming already.  In fact, the developing seed capsule of a second blooming stalk is visible in the top center of the image.

Hanging on for dear life

When I came across this stately American beech on the edge of a ravine, Wagner's "The Ride of the Valkyries" came into my head.  It's as if the tree's "hair" were being blown backward by some overwhelming force.

Woodland pool

Dog-toothed Violet, Trout-lily, or Adder's-tongue (Erythronium americanum)

Coy view of the reverse

In places, extensive stands of trout lilies carpeted the forest floor, though few were blooming.  Where they occurred, there were no other plants on the ground plane.

Lesser celandine (Ranunculus divaricata)

Longtime followers will recognize that I have a particular dislike for lesser celandine, a beautiful but introduced and wildly invasive buttercup species that prefers floodplain habitats but will grow just about anywhere.  Of course, since it's flowering right now, it drew my particular attention during our walk.

Lesser celandine gone wild!

In the image above, every bit of "green" is lesser celandine.  Obviously, it has not confined itself to the floodplain, but has marched up onto the wooded slope as well.  This was a particularly bad stand, but many locations were nearly as densely colonized.

Spring-beauties (Claytonia  caroliniana)

Ninety-foot Bridge (a railroad trestle)

Ninety-foot Bridge is a local landmark.  I assume this concrete railroad span got its name from its height.

Wooded hillside above the creek with May-apples or Mandrake (Podophyllum peltatum)

Below I've posted an image of my favorite view of "my" creek along its entire 22-mile length, taken from a hill in the city park and looking upstream.  The view would be improved if the city would remove some of the trees, but that would only invite invasive plants to move in.  I mentioned in a public meeting once that this was my favorite overlook (heresy for someone who should find the greatest beauty in his "own" preserve), and several other meeting attendees agreed that it was their favorite view of the creek as well.

My favorite creek view

Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) in motion

Nearing the end of our walk, we came around a bend and sent a pair of skittish Wood Ducks skittering to an eddy on the far side of the creek.  Once they felt that they were far enough from us to be safe, the female began to dabble in the foam.  This image was made with my telephoto lens fully extended; in fact, I suspected the ducks were Wood Ducks but couldn't be sure until I used the lens as a monocular (we didn't bring binoculars with us on our walk).  Not the most spectacular image, admittedly, but the ducks' handsome character is evident nonetheless.

A pair of skittish Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa)

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?