Posts Tagged ‘trillium’
Transplant Completed
Just as we planned, at the last minute before departing from the lake place, Cyndie and I went into the woods and dug up three bunches of trillium. When we arrived home, one of the first orders of business, after making sure the ice cream Cyndie brought back from West’s Dairy was safely in our freezer, was to get the trillium transplants in the ground in proximity to the batch of previously transplanted beauties.
As I was putting them in the ground, I was a little sad over the fact that a couple of them had tipped over, kinking the stem, and others looked droopier than I liked. Cyndie stopped by not too long after I had watered the area and found them looking much perkier. We’re hoping for the best.
Before all our attention moved to the trillium, we had our eyes opened to the presence of morel mushrooms growing near the gravel driveways up at the lake place. This was a complete surprise to us. Steve’s friends from Sweden had been on a walk and noticed the highly coveted wild shrooms.
Eva and Matilde had found seven of the distinctive honeycomb-like caps growing around a big old tree. Cyndie brought along a knife and cut and bagged our first batch ever, thanks to their sharp awareness. This has inspired us to be more observant in our woods at home, keeping our eyes open for the possibility of the edible fungus growing right where we live. Of course, we now also want to remember to keep watching for the proven presence of morels up at the lake.
It would be a shame not to take advantage of this valuable resource in our woods, especially if we can find them growing in both places.
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Biking Progress
A search of the area behind the cabin where Cyndie had previously seen the fawn turned up no signs of it. It may have lain down in a tiny curled ball, but since we didn’t see or hear from it the entire rest of the day, we prefer to imagine its mother returned and they wandered off to live happily ever after. The walk through the woods turned up some rewarding scenery in consolation.
The trillium is putting on a pretty good show for us. My second favorite adornment of the forests up here is the ferns. They are coming on strong this weekend.
The surprise we least expected to find was methodically pecking away on the shady side of a tree. It took some hunting to find it by honing in on the most likely direction the sounds were coming from and then staring long enough to catch a glimpse of the movement.
That’s a Pileated Woodpecker way up in the tree. They are the largest woodpeckers we have in North America, but they are a somewhat rare sighting. That makes it doubly special whenever we have one pay a visit.
I was able to take advantage of good weather yesterday afternoon and get out for a 39-mile loop riding my bike. My derailleur recalibration worked well, and I pushed my mileage to more than double my previous rides this season. My new gravel tires worked well, too, allowing me to confidently ride a road I didn’t know would be gravel. That portion offered me the chance to witness the smallest fawn I have ever seen in person. Compared to the one that was bleating outside our sunroom, this one was practically a quarter of the size.
It looked like it could have been born only a few hours earlier. I came up over a rise in the road and found the mamma and baby staring directly at me from the middle of the gravel road. As I approached them, I spoke a few words, which triggered the doe to leap off into the sparse growth beside the road. The matchstick-like legs of the fawn wobbled their way to follow the mom.
Steve arrived yesterday with guests who are friends from Sweden. We enjoyed a big feast for a late dinner after offering tours of the house and surroundings, and visiting with several neighbors for happy hour on the deck next to our place. I was feeling pretty self-satisfied about the distance I had traveled on my bike ride earlier in the afternoon, but my pride was taken down a notch when I learned a couple next door biked 55 miles, 20 or 25 of which were unplanned. They missed a turn and rode much farther south than they had intended.
My leg muscles were on the verge of cramping after my effort. I don’t want to think about the pain of riding that many unplanned miles.
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Slowly Expanding
On a walk back toward the house from the labyrinth, I spotted this remnant in the trail, but no visible nest in the immediate vicinity. I imagine there could be multiple explanations for how it ended up here. I’m hoping for one that includes the successful hatch of a baby bird.
I like how the mottled shadows of emerging leaves made it look like there was a spotlight on the shell.
I don’t know why, but this made me think to check on our patch of trillium we transported from the lake place up in Hayward, WI. Over a series of years, we were bringing back batches of these wonderful flowering forest plants after Memorial Day weekend.
They are so prevalent up there that the white flowers carpet the forest floor this time of year, creating a mesmerizing scene. It’s hard to imagine we would ever reach that level here at home, but even a small patch is rewarding. In this spot, I counted twice and came up with 19 plants, but I knew I wasn’t getting them all. The longer I looked, the more I noticed.
Final count: 24. I’m pretty sure that’s more than we planted. It will be most rewarding to find they are now spreading naturally in their new home.
It’s not always easy to keep track of where things are in the woods. I know we tried starting an establishment in at least two other areas, but they didn’t take. After a couple of seasons, I figured out we will be better off focusing our attention on one main spot. Still, I thought there was another grouping just a few feet away from this one.
I eventually spotted it.
There weren’t many flowers yet, and a tree branch had fallen into the area, but there’s trillium there. It looks like a bit of competition from trout lilies, which are the most widespread ground cover we have here, followed closely by jewelweed.
I look forward to a day when these two trillium groups merge into one as the transplants slowly expand their new Wintervale establishment and take command over all other contenders in this area. We may have brought them here, but I leave it up to nature to decide the eventual outcome.
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Lazy Sunday
The ground cover in our woods is making impressive progress in spring growth. It has already reached the point where it’s almost impossible to find Asher when he wanders away as we walk through the woods. I have an obvious fondness for finding trillium, both where we have transplanted it and in surprising places it shows up organically.
Those flowers are probably carpeting the woods up at the lake place, or will be soon. Ours are few and far between at home.
The busy, energy-filled day on Saturday gave way to a very low-energy Sunday for me. A little extra time standing quietly with the horses and lying down with Asher outside in the shade. A short nap early in the afternoon. Some puttering in the shop to tend to long-neglected clutter before making a little progress on a project.
I ended the evening watching Stanley Cup Playoff hockey. That ended up being the most stressful part of the entire day.
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Little Touches
Today is our last day to prepare for the guests we are expecting for World Labyrinth Day tomorrow. Cyndie and I put in some extra hours yesterday, primping the nooks and crannies around the rocks lining the circuitous pathway to the center of our labyrinth.
When we got to the boulders in the middle, I wanted to figure out a way to make it look more intentional and less like a hodgepodge of incidental boulders.
What better way than stacking a few balanced rocks on top?
There is no way those rounded stones will stay balanced against the frequent pressure of visiting birds, but I hope to have them reset before people show up to walk tomorrow.
There are still so many plants that haven’t sprouted leaves yet; it looks like they might be dead compared to the ones that have already greened up. Not that I blame them for being slow. Cyndie has been covering her sensitive flowering plants the last few nights to protect them from frost.
I’ve been keeping an eye out for evidence of trillium making an appearance. We have several spots where it has shown up organically, and one area where Cyndie and I have planted some we brought back from her family’s lake home. Yesterday, I found that the ones we transplanted are already about to flower.
We are still a loooong way from a virtual carpet of trillium flowers like happens up in the woods at the lake, but even the few spots where we have it showing up at home bring us joy every time we see it.
Just like our sprucing up the grounds and area around the labyrinth, it’s the little touches, like a trillium blossom in the woods, that set a tone that defines the specialness of our Wintervale paradise.
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Wilting Trillium
While Cyndie and her mom were in town, shopping for a new gas range for the kitchen, I went out for a walk around the property and came to the spot where Cyndie and I created a labyrinth in a wooded space off the driveway. The pathway was barely discernible. Knowing the general route, I made my way to the center and found it to be reasonably intact.
I removed some of the growth that had sprouted there and rebalanced a couple of rocks before taking the picture. Now, if only the rest of the pathway looked so well defined.
To my great joy and some dismay, there is a strong presence of trillium growing without any concern for the path. The flowers have mostly wilted by this time, but that doesn’t make it much easier to switch my mindset from adoring them to plucking the sprouts from the earth.
We have been tending to the pathway multiple times each year, but not being around in the early spring has allowed the forest to make great gains in reclaiming its territory. We’d like to accomplish a better-established walking trail in the least invasive way, so a little extra tending each spring is to be expected.
A feature that I really like with this little labyrinth among the trees is that the borders that define the pathway are much wider than the walking lanes, which is the opposite of our labyrinth at home. There, the border is a narrow line of rocks creating wider walkways. It had to be that way at home since we were fitting an 11-circuit pattern into a defined available space.
Since our pattern up here at the lake is only 3 circles around the center, we had plenty of room to make the natural alleys between paths much wider. Thankfully, that is allowing the ferns, ramp onions, and trillium in the area to thrive.
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Season Swing
The pendulum of spring weather has swung decidedly in the direction of summer in the last few dry, sunny days. The forecast for our area was in the upper 70sF, but the reality yesterday had us well into the 80s. There are still plenty of tree leaves that are still in the bud phase but it felt like summer is considering an early visit.
Did someone mention trillium? It is an extra thrill whenever we spot some on our property in places where we definitely didn’t transplant them.
Yesterday morning, I noticed one right beside one of our busier trails. Way to go, ants! (Ants spread the seed pods.)
The higher daytime heat has our grasses growing significantly from one day to the next. Mowing is once again becoming an almost daily activity for me. On Monday, when I parked the riding mower and pulled the six batteries for charging, I was shocked to find that one of them gave me a flashing red LED of failure. I called the service number to report my problem, and the recording on their end said the call center had closed early for the day. I wonder how many days that message runs.
As Asher and I were on our way back from feeding horses yesterday morning, I stopped to grab the battery from the shop. However, before doing that, I plugged it in one more time to confirm the failure still existed. Good thinking, John. This time it worked! I’m pretty glad the call center went home early on Monday.
While I did some much-needed mowing in the heat of the afternoon, I left Asher in the house on his own. Cyndie was visiting her mom in the Cities. When I finished, I gave Asher a chance to go for a walk. We made it about halfway around the property, and he decided the shade of the evergreen tree at the end of the driveway looked too good to pass up.
I chose not to join him on the ground because I have had wood ticks crawling up my legs much too frequently for my liking over the last few days. The ticks must be enjoying the arrival of this warm weather. There was no reason to rush Asher because I knew a secret that he didn’t.
Cyndie was going to be coming over the hill within five minutes or so, and knowing how much Asher loves riding in cars, I figured Cyndie would be happy to give him a lift back to the house. This time of year, the house holds the cool evening air nicely throughout the day while the outdoor temperature heats up.
Every day without new rain brings us closer to putting in posts for the shade sail in the paddocks. Our current target day for the work is next week on the 14th.
I have a feeling the horses will be wishing for more shade every day until then.
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Horses Unconcerned
One day after that hilly adventure with Rich on our bikes, I found myself greatly lacking in my usual get-up-and-go. After a forced effort to plant some grass seed, in which we later discovered we didn’t have the seed we thought we had, I came back to the house and conked out on the deck for an impromptu nap. Neither Cyndie nor I ended up completing plans we had discussed at breakfast by the end of the day, but we still chipped away at a few tasks.
I’m particularly pleased we finally cut back the Japanese Silver Grass shoots from last year in all four of the places they are now established around our property. We walk past them every day, and I’ve been looking at that job needing to be done for weeks. That triggered me to cut some grass in those same areas, and while I was there, I decided to haul away one last pile of branches we had skipped the last time we were working on that project. Those are all tasks that provide rewarding visual feedback in our frequent jaunts along our many pathways.
While I was in the woods between the house and the back pasture, I spotted evidence that our trillium is alive and well for another year.
The fawn lilies and bloodroot flowers will soon have some competition.
All that was well and good, but it all got eclipsed by the drama after sunset. Cyndie had taken Asher out for his last walk of the day, and suddenly, I received a phone call from her about a fire at a neighbor’s property. I found her and Asher down by the horses. She was very disturbed by the sight of so much flame, but I immediately recognized the visuals of a controlled burn of their field.
I thought it interesting that the horses didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the unusual sight.
The neighbors had chosen an evening of absolutely perfect conditions, as we are just now starting to dry out around here, and the undergrowth is still damp, and last night there was no wind. Cyndie decided to spend a little time giving the horses massages, and I stood with Asher and watched the flames in the distance.
At least they won’t need to do any mowing in that field for a while. As I stared at the spectacle, I noticed myself feeling some envy.
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Native Trillium
For years, we have longed to establish a colony of trillium in the woods closest to our house by transplanting them from the forest on the land of Cyndie’s lake place up in Hayward, WI. The very satisfying success we have achieved up to this point has been limited to the plants surviving the stress of getting dug up and driven hours away. Some, but not all, have even produced the ultimate reward of the classic blossom.
What has yet to transpire is the natural propagation of new plants in the surrounding vicinity. When we start seeing that, the rewards of our efforts will have us over the moon with joy.
In the meantime, we have been noticing other rewarding blooms in the farther reaches of our forest.
There are a small number of native trillium plants that appear during the relatively short flowering weeks in a handful of spots in our woods. Still, they have yet to offer a hint of becoming the striking carpet of coverage like we see up at the lake.
Now in our twelfth year on this land, we can begin to measure how things change in a decade. Of course, the natural evolution of our surroundings is hard to predict given the rapidly warming climate underway. Will that make a teeming blanket of flowering trillium a more or less likely possibility in our woods?
Either way, it appears we will need to be patient and set our sights on long-range changes. Thankfully, we experience a wonderful thrill even when coming upon just a single flower of our much-loved wild forest trillium.
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Anecdotal Evidence
Before I launch into today’s thoughts and opinions of *This* John W. Hays, let me just report that the re-installation of a battery in our generator was accomplished without difficulty. It went back in a lot easier than it came out. We are once again prepared for any calamity that might knock out power at home.
Today, however, we are not at home.
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Can you say, “Lake place?” My favoritest of places (away from home)?
Cyndie and I listened to a podcast about brains, neuroplasticity, and autonomic nervous systems on the drive up, making the trip go by in a blink. We stopped in Cumberland for an ice cream treat and met another couple from the Twin Cities heading to their cabin. They pressed hard to sell us (maybe successfully) on attending the annual Rutabaga Festival in August.
The lake place provided some anecdotal evidence of the changing climate. First, the mosquitos have made an early appearance with an intensity that is much more reminiscent of mid-summer. Second, the trillium blossoms that are usually at their glorious best on Memorial weekend look a little past peak already. Having cleared tree branches last November (when we were up here and Cyndie shattered her ankle) there is a new visibility of trillium on the slope below the house.
Third, the poison ivy that could frequently be found on that slope is making visible gains in both directions, toward the lake below and into the mowed areas above. This expansion mirrors what is happening at home. The growing season is a little longer with the warmup in spring happening earlier and the hard freeze in fall happening later. Poison ivy seems to be thriving with these changes.
We left Asher at home this weekend with a sitter who will tend to the horses as well. Before we left, Cyndie wrote a detailed essay on how to care for Asher so the sitter would know exactly what the pup needs and when. Some of them were simple, like bedtime.
An hour and fifty minutes beyond that time last night, Cyndie got a text with a photo of Asher seated nicely beside the sitter by the fire pit out back of the house. I told her that the dog is going to love it when we go away and leave him with the sitter because all those dang rules the parents have get loosened.
Today is work day and we will probably focus on cleaning the beach. I haven’t checked the temperature of the water yet but if it looks so much like summer around here, maybe it will be warm enough for a swim when chores are done.
The evidence is yet to be revealed.
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Relative Something 