I picked out Wadsworth Falls State Park because it was reasonably close to New Haven. I am always alone during my winter treks (its hard to get people motivated for our resident overwintering wildlife), so I tend to save my longer trips for the spring and summer. All I knew about my destination was that it was centered around a waterfall.
Wadsworth Falls State Park: Entrance
Map of Wadsworth Falls State Park
(I followed the orange trail)
The trail I took was a march through a scene of brilliant white desolation, with a bed of icy snow covering the ground, and the bare trees climbing their way to the heavens. To me, trees are always beautiful, but if you stare up at them at this time of year they really appear supreme and god-like in their dominance of the quiet wintry landscape. They stand there, solemn and imposing, and I, of little stature, feel so insignificant in their presence. From time to time, a pack of chickadees or titmice will dance past and change the mood of the forest with their squeaks and funny clamoring; but when they've passed through, the seriousness sets in again. It's as if the trees are the parents and the birds the meddlesome children, and I, well I am some strange guest from another time and place. It's as if I don't belong, or am not enough in touch with the pulse of life to be a part of the club. Nor do I intend to be, for nature is timeless and above me.
Today was very much a hemlock sort of day. Some aspect of this tree kept popping up wherever I'd go. Nathan, your friendly neighborhood hemlock expert, suggested that this is because many of the trees are either dead or dying from insect infestation (see previous entry), and all sorts of life comes to feed on their dying bodies. But, shifting our attention to the living hemlock for a moment, I wanted to note that their cones are quite small, not like those of any pine species around here.
Eastern Hemlock Cones (Tsuga canadensis)
Cone in hand
Kind of like the song "hand in glove" by The Smiths: "Cone in hand, the sun shines out of our behinds...No it's not like any other cone, this one is different because it's small"
Hemlocks are frequently found near streams and they tend to occupy moist cool valleys. I recall hearing that they are an important source of shade for animals living in or near streams (including fish), and that their decline will certainly impact the ecology of riparian forests.
Little hemlock in its element
On the dead and dying hemlocks I kept seeing this pretty orange fungus. I mean I wouldn't date it, but maybe I would buy it a martini (not funny ah-tall). But I did not see it on any other species of tree. After perusing my two new companion 'shroom books I discovered that this species is likely Dacrymyces palmatus (palmatus ~ like a palm [of the hand]). Supposedly this species looks similar to Tremella mesenterica (aka Witch's Butter), but palmatus favors dead conifers - Bingo!
Yellow fungus on hemlock
A collapsed medium-sized hemlock blocked the trail path. I stopped to take a look at the critters that were inhabiting it. Nathan told me that the black growth on the underside of the needles was probably a sooty mold which may be feeding on dead scale insects. You can also see a ton of the insects as well. These are usually the elongate hemlock scale (Fiorinia externa) which was introduced from...uh...the Virginia Tech website says Japan? These buggers damage the plant by using their piercing-sucking (I love this term) mouthparts to extract important nutrients from the needles. This produces a yellow banding of infected needles, and eventually causes them to fall off. Many hemlocks look bare and well, dead, because of the scale and the hemlock woolly adelgid.
Fallen hemlock
Underside of a branch from a dead hemlock
I still haven't made it to the waterfall yet...the best part! More later.
No comments:
Post a Comment