Posts Tagged ‘trillium’
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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More Trillium
While exploring our woods away from the trails in search of tree-choking vines, we came upon two beautiful trillium blossoms that were not transplanted here by us. Making the moment even more exciting for us was the fact they each had a hint of purple coloring on the petals.
I don’t know if we will ever succeed in creating a large grove of trillium in our woods by way of our annual transfer of small batches from the lake place, but it doesn’t feel as essential that we do, now that we are finding more occasions where the flowers are sprouting naturally.
Yesterday morning, I claimed a couple of hours for a bike ride that took me down into the Rush River valley, and among the many gorgeous views, I spotted several large groups of trillium growing wild.
That was much more fun to come upon than the two times a dog ran a great distance to threaten me as I pedaled past their territory. The second one was a large German Shepherd that paid little heed to my stern commands to “Stop!” and “No!” Fortunately, it didn’t demonstrate much in the way of endurance and gave up quickly as I continued my pedaling pace beyond the farm.
While I worked on transporting water to our newly transplanted saplings in the afternoon, Cyndie took our cat, Pequenita, to the vet for a diagnosis that might explain her runaway appetite, oddly loud gut sounds, and surprising weight loss lately. She really didn’t have much weight to lose.
The vet suspects hyperthyroidism and ordered a blood chemistry panel for confirmation. We hope to learn the results later today.
At this point, we anticipate there will be medication prescribed for the rest of her life. Oy.
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More Surprises
A full day in the woods directing the work of the tree cutters on Friday turned up a couple of unexpected flower surprises for me.
The first was when I came upon these cute little wildflower bunches beneath my favorite hunk of a tree.
No tree trimming of that beast was done that day as our attentions were elsewhere. I just happened to be waiting a safe distance away from where a large leaning tree was being professionally dispatched to the ground when I spotted the flowery accents.
In a somewhat similar situation, only, different, I found this single flowering trillium just after a tree that had been hiding it from view was cut down.
That one is definitely NOT one that we transplanted from the lake place. Finding this is encouraging for our goal of establishing a greater presence of trillium in our woods. If they are showing up naturally, that definitely bodes well.
That’s all I got. Short and sweet this morning because I am off to drive for an hour to meet friends for a morning bike ride. Further tree work and lawn mowing will need to wait for another day. I’ve been granted a day off to pedal!
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Chicks Moved
We left the lake place yesterday morning with the weather doing everything possible to make our departure as conflicting as possible. Alas, tasks at home beckoned, energizing us to focus on hitting the road before lunchtime.
Upon greeting our animals, we immediately turned our attention to planting the trillium we brought home with us. Instead of planting in spread-out sets of three, this time we are experimenting with planting them all together in a closer bunch.
They were pretty droopy by the time we got home, but most stems appeared to stand back up after we got them in the ground and watered. Time will tell whether they accept what we’ve done to them and go on to establish themselves 125 miles south of their previous location.
Next order of business was to complete the dividing of the coop space and then move the chicks from each of their separate brooder locations.
The Buffalo Gals went first and acted rather unwilling about getting picked up for the transfer.
We decided to move both sets of chicks to the coop on the same day, combining the shock of a new location and the first exposure to other birds to happen all at once.
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It was hard to tell which troubled each batch more, the new digs or the strange other chirping birds suddenly appearing in close proximity.
By nightfall, they all seemed to be doing just fine with their abrupt change in housing.
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Spot It
Can you find the secondary features hiding in plain sight in these images captured throughout my day yesterday?
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How many did you identify?
That was purple-tinted trillium alright, but did you notice the poison ivy directly beside it on the left?
There was some complex chirping coming from the pine tree. Is that a nuthatch? You tell me. I didn’t have a long lens.
The coiled-up young fern was the focus and I didn’t notice the mosquito until viewing the image on my computer.
What was that lurking beneath the water, obscured by the wavy reflections? The old snapping turtle hanging out on the boat lift.
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Survey Results
We walked around in search of trillium yesterday and found mixed results. I think in my next transplant effort I will keep them closer to each other upon replant. Here is a view of three I planted:
No flowers, but the two at the top each have new sets of three leaves appearing beneath them. Is this the expansion underway that I seek? Better than finding none at all. In other locations, we struggled to find all three points of a triangle where I would have planted them. Sometimes two, sometimes only one.
At the same time, we did find several isolated trilliums with flowers located in places where neither of us remembers having transplanted any.
New growth on the ground in the forest is rather sparse this spring, maybe in a reflection of the uncharacteristic dry conditions we are experiencing.
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The photo on the left above is an example of new shoots appearing beneath the one with the flower, which excites us with hope that more could result in the future. The image on the right is an example of a lone trillium with little else of any variety seeming to flourish much.
It just might be a slim year of growth. Yesterday’s passing clouds never spit enough sprinkles out to simply wet the ground surface. We are forced to try to do some watering outselves.
I turned on the water to the labyrinth and we transplanted one more vine from where it was trying to strangle a tree to one of the legs of the gazebo. This will be the first year of an attempt to grow a canopy of leaves as the cover of the gazebo instead of the old canvas that was getting threadbare.
Nothing like trying to inspire new growth during a time of drought.
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New Trillium
This time of year the ground in our forests comes alive in response to the sunlight available before the leaves open fully to block much of it out. We have tried transplanting Trillium from the lake place in Hayward with hopes of establishing a thicket of self-expanding sprouts in the groves of trees closer to the house.
In the eight years we have dabbled with the project, the results have been a little anemic. Some seasons there have been encouraging numbers of flowers blossoming on the plants we relocated, but other years there haven’t been very many. During the first few years after transplanting, I was satisfied just to see the leaves show up in proof the plants were still alive.
Now I am more interested in finding some natural expansion of plants to offer some promise of achieving our goals. Just yesterday, Cyndie made an exciting find. Can you see it?
The interesting fact about that single flowering plant is that it showed up somewhere that we didn’t plant a batch.
Today we plan to audit the areas where we planted sets of three individual plants in little triangles to see how those are coming along. If they are flowering, it is easy to spot them. If not, the leaves can be easily overlooked among the variety of other ground cover thriving under all the sunshine temporarily available.
In a surprisingly short span of time, the forest floor will be predominantly shaded under the canopy of tree leaves that will be fluttering overhead.
Speaking of shade from trees, Cyndie also recently captured this image of a great shadow pattern of leafless branches from this young maple tree by the barn.
That view will be morphing very soon to a much less defined depiction of the branches.
The springing of spring is well underway. It makes the brief appearance of trillium blossoms all the more precious. Once the heat of summer arrives, the trillium tends to disappear from sight. At that point, hopefully, the colonies of rhizomes will be busy at work expanding under the leaf cover of the forest floor.
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Similar Theme
My visit yesterday to the Previous Somethings archive fed an urge to explore my media library from the earliest days of this blog. I found some images from eleven years ago which interestingly correlate with our life in the present.
Back in May of 2009, we were still living in Eden Prairie, MN, on a fraction-of-an-acre corner lot. At that time, we had no inkling we might be selling that house and moving within a few years. Back then, we were…
…building the frames for a raised garden!
This week, while I have been occupied with the day-job, Cyndie has decided to go a little further than the initial terrace we worked on together in the last few weeks. She framed in a few more spots for select plantings she’s decided to add which will need more space.
Another old photo I found was taken up at the lake place in Hayward. The month of May brings out a carpet of trillium in the woods up there that we totally adore.
Last night, Cyndie brought me a picture she took of one that just showed up in our woods at Wintervale.
We have been trying to bring a few trillium back with us from annual visits to the lake in May and have been transplanting them into various locations in our woods. I don’t know if we’ll live long enough to see them flourish and spread like they do at Wildwood, but each time I spot one here brings me great joy.
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Rode Again
The momentum is going in the right direction for me. I got on the bike for the second day in a row yesterday. As expected, my butt was not entirely happy with the pressure of the seat, carrying a little tenderness from the day before. But, after a few miles, that faded in with the rest of the aches and pains of resuming a different exercise after a long hiatus.
My legs were noticeably stiff about pushing the pedals so soon after the previous workout.
To keep things interesting, I planned a route in the opposite direction of my Tuesday ride. It did turn out to be very interesting, but my ultimate plan was foiled by an unexpected gravel road —a constant threat to random exploration around these parts.
I was headed north when the pavement ended, so I turned around and backtracked my way south, visible as the single line up to nowhere on the map.
Actually, it was probably a good thing, because my legs would likely have objected had my original plan worked out. The shortened ride turned out to be plenty enough exercise for day two.
Other highlights included a close encounter with a yapping lap dog who completely ignored the fervent screams for obedience which emanated simultaneously from everyone in the family who happened to be out on the lawn at the time.
I was thrilled to find a variety of locations where wild trillium is growing among ferns in the ditches of nearby roads. It bodes well for our plan to establish a carpet of our own in the woods by our house.
There was nary a home that didn’t have someone out mowing grass or planting fields. It is the season of growing and the farmers are all in a hurry to get their crops to join in the explosion of growth that is visible in how high the grass is advancing by the hour.
I also finally located the bison herd that George had told us about on one of the nearby properties. The first clue was the height and robustness of the fence around the pasture. I had to search for the animals, because they were congregated at the far end from the road, right before the elevation dropped and I zoomed away down another hill.
I’m proud to report that I successfully silenced the squeak in my shoes, so it was an all around splendid ride, with nothing but the sounds of nature and tractors to serenade me.
I also got the bike computer back up and running. Based on the data from the app on my phone, I got the settings right on the computer, because results matched very close for speed and mileage.
It’s always nice on a bike when the feedback about speed is accurate. It’s bad enough when the number reveals I’m going so slow the tip-over alarm might go off, but finding out the speed is artificially high or incorrectly low can be very unsettling to otherwise mild-mannered cyclists.
May the road roll past our tires…
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Relative Something 