Our Day at Cayuga Nature Center and Finger Lakes Beekeepers Club Learning Apiary

Join us on a captivating adventure at the Cayuga Nature Center’s Treetops Treehouse and the Finger Lakes Beekeepers Club Learning Apiary. Discover the wonders of the forest canopy, marvel at the intricate world of honeybees, and meet a tiny land snail that sparked the curiosity of two young explorers. Dive into a day filled with discovery, learning, and unforgettable moments in nature.

The morning air was crisp and filled with the promise of adventure as we set off for the Cayuga Nature Center, a hidden gem nestled in the heart of Ithaca. The destination: the Treetops Treehouse, a magical structure that promised an immersive experience in nature for me, my sister Diane and two grandsons, Sam and Rory.

As we approached the treehouse, the boys’ excitement was palpable. The Treetops Treehouse is a marvel of rustic architecture, a multi-level structure that blends seamlessly with the surrounding forest. It was designed to give visitors a bird’s-eye view of the forest canopy, allowing for a unique perspective on the local flora and fauna.

Exploring the Treetops

Upon arrival, we were greeted by the gentle rustle of leaves and the chorus of bird songs. The boys raced ahead, eager to explore the winding pathways and hidden nooks of the treehouse. The structure is constructed entirely of wood, with sturdy railings and wide platforms that offer panoramic views of the forest.

We were particularly fascinated by the various interpretive signs that explained the local ecosystem. We learned about the different species of trees, the birds that nested in the canopy, and the small mammals that scurried along the forest floor. It was a delight to sparked their curiosity of the natural world.

Discovering a Land Snail

Meadow Trail

Afterwards, walking along a meadow trail, Rory’s keen eyes spotted something unusual on the ground. Nestled among the fallen leaves was a small land snail, its delicate shell glistening in the dappled sunlight. The boys and I gathered around to observe this tiny marvel of nature.

The snail appeared to be from the genus Triodopsis or Neohelix, possibly Triodopsis albolabris or Neohelix albolabris, known for their white-lipped shells. These snails are common in moist, forested environments and play a crucial role in the ecosystem as decomposers. They feed on decaying plant material, helping to recycle nutrients back into the soil.

The Learning Apiary

Further along the meadow trail, we made our way to the Finger Lakes Beekeepers Club Learning Apiary. The apiary is a place of learning and discovery, where visitors can gain insight into the fascinating world of honeybees and beekeeping.

The apiary is composed of several beehives, each carefully maintained by members of the Beekeepers Club. We were careful to keep our distance from the electrified fence, protection against marauding bears and humans.

“ever-busy bees”

Wildflowers in Bloom

Narrow Leaved Sundrops

As we walked back from the apiary, the trail was lined with a vibrant display of wildflowers. The late spring bloom painted the landscape with splashes of color, from the golden yellows of evening primrose to the delicate whites of daisies.

Large Yellow Loosestrife

One particular cluster of bright yellow flowers caught our attention. It was the Lysimachia punctata, commonly known as yellow loosestrife. These star-shaped flowers grow in dense clusters and are a favorite among pollinators. The boys marveled at the intricate patterns and vibrant colors, adding another layer of wonder to our day.

Reflections on a Memorable Day

As the day drew to a close, we found a quiet spot to sit and reflect on our adventures. The boys were bubbling with stories to tell their parents—of the towering treehouse, the tiny snail, the bustling beehives, and the fields of wildflowers. It was a day filled with discovery and learning, one that brought us closer to nature and to each other.

The Cayuga Nature Center and the Finger Lakes Beekeepers Club Learning Apiary provided a perfect setting for an outing that was both educational and exhilarating. The experiences we shared will undoubtedly leave a lasting impression on Sam and Rory, nurturing their love for the natural world and the myriad forms of life that inhabit it.

Meadow View

As we packed up and headed home, the boys already began planning our next adventure. The allure of the natural world, with its endless mysteries and wonders, had woven its spell, and we were eager to explore more of what it had to offer.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

A Late Winter Walk Through Cornell University Campus

Explore a late winter walk through Cornell University’s scenic campus, discovering blooming snowdrops, historic landmarks, and the striking “Magna Dancer” sculpture. Uncover the beauty and heritage captured in each step of this serene journey.


On the late winter afternoon of March 1, 2024, I decided to take a long walk starting from Cascadilla Park Road, making my way up through the Cornell University campus, and ending at Fall Creek near the Mundy Wildflower Garden before returning to my starting point. The sun was shining brightly, casting long shadows, and the crisp air was filled with a hint of spring. Carrying an Apple IPhone 14 Pro Max smartphone, I set off to capture the beauty and essence of this serene day.

Starting Point: Cascadilla Park Road

The walk began on Cascadilla Park Road, where I was greeted by a delightful patch of snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) nestled among the glossy green leaves of periwinkle (Vinca minor). These delicate white flowers, blooming despite the chill, were a hopeful sign of the approaching spring. Their pristine petals contrasted beautifully with the dark, shiny leaves, creating a picturesque start to my journey.

These flowers were found in a garden on Cascadilla Park Road, Ithaca, March 1, 2024. Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) are among the first flowers to bloom in late winter and early spring, often pushing up through the snow. These plants are known for their nodding, white, bell-shaped flowers and are a common sight in gardens during this time of year. The glossy green leaves belong to a plant known as Periwinkle (Vinca minor). Periwinkle is a popular ground cover plant, often found in gardens due to its ability to spread quickly and form a dense mat of evergreen foliage. It typically has glossy, dark green leaves and produces small, blue or purple star-shaped flowers in the spring.

Climbing the Steps to Steps to Myron Taylor Hall

My path led me up flights of granite steps toward Myron Taylor Hall. As I climbed, I could feel the history and tradition of Cornell University enveloping me. The McGraw Tower bells chimed softly, adding a melodic backdrop to my ascent.

Steep steps leading from a parking lot off West Avenue to the Cornell Law School (Myron Taylor Hall).

Discovering “Magna Dancer”

Reaching the top of the steps, I encountered, at the entrance to Hughes Hall museum, the striking “Magna Dancer” sculpture by Arline Peartree. Its bold red forms stood out vividly against the backdrop of the historic stone buildings. The plaque at the base provided a glimpse into its significance, commemorating the contributions of Cornell alumni. The sculpture’s dynamic lines and vibrant color injected a sense of modernity into the historic setting.

“Magna Dancer” steel and enamel sculpture, 1992 by Arline Peartree. Plaque on the sculpture plinth located outside Hughes Hall (behind Myron Taylor Hall – Cornell Law School), 241 Campus Road

Winter Buds and the Robinson Herb Garden

Here, I passed through the Robinson Herb Garden, where the late winter buds of a Cornelian Cherry Dogwood (Cornus mas) were beginning to unfurl. These bright yellow clusters heralded the arrival of spring, standing out against the bare branches and muted tones of the garden. It was a reminder of the cyclical nature of life and the resilience of the natural world.

The tree in the photograph with the yellow buds is a Cornelian Cherry Dogwood (Cornus mas). It is one of the first trees to bloom in late winter to early spring, producing clusters of small, bright yellow flowers before the leaves emerge. Cornelian Cherry Dogwood is often used in landscapes and gardens for its early bloom and attractive appearance. This tree grown in the Robinson Herb Garden, Cornell University

Mundy Wildflower Garden and Fall Creek

At Mundy Wildflower Garden, a hidden gem nestled beside Fall Creek, the landscape transformed into a tranquil haven, with the gentle sound of water flowing nearby. Though it was still early in the season, the promise of blooming wildflowers lingered in the air. The garden’s carefully maintained paths and rustic benches invited quiet contemplation.

These steps lead from the Robison New York State Herb Garden to Judd Falls Road and the Mundy Wildflower Garden

Exploring the Common Ferns Display

As I ventured further, I came across a display showcasing common ferns. The display included photographs and names of various ferns, such as the Christmas Fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) and Goldie’s Fern (Dryopteris goldiana). This educational exhibit was both informative and visually appealing, highlighting the diverse flora found on the campus.

Displayed on a display in the Mundy Wildflower Garden, part of Cornell (University) Botanical Gardens.

Observing the Weather Station

Nearby, a weather station stood tall, equipped with various sensors to monitor climate conditions. A sign explained its purpose: to help understand how climate change is affecting plants in the area. The data collected here would provide valuable insights into the phenological changes occurring within the garden.

Traversing the Slope to Olin Library

Returning, I made my way toward Olin Library. The path took me along a steep incline, “Lib Hill,” where I could see the stark branches of deciduous trees reaching toward the sky. The steps seemed to stretch endlessly upward, mirroring the journey of knowledge that students undertake within the library’s walls. The modern architecture of the library contrasted sharply with the surrounding natural landscape, symbolizing the intersection of nature and human achievement.

Approaching McGraw Tower

As I neared the heart of the campus, the McGraw Tower stood tall and prominent, albeit encased in scaffolding for restoration work. The historic building, with its distinctive clock face, was an emblem of Cornell’s rich heritage. Despite the scaffolding, the tower retained its majestic presence, a testament to the ongoing efforts to preserve its legacy.

This view is from Central Avenue. Morrill Hall is on the left. The tower is part of Uris Library. Cornell University, Ithaca, Tompkins County, New York State

Returning to Cascadilla Park Road

As descended the hill, following Cascadilla Creek, reflecting on the six mile journey, I felt a profound connection to the enduring beauty and resilience of both nature and human creativity. The walk had taken me through time and space, from historic landmarks to natural wonders, each step revealing a new facet of the Cornell University campus.

Reflecting on History

My walk took me past a plaque commemorating the site of the first settlers’ log cabin in Tompkins County, built in 1788. The plaque, erected by the Cayuga Chapter D.A.R. in 1927, was a poignant reminder of the area’s deep-rooted history and the pioneering spirit that shaped it.

This plaque on the corner of University Avenue and Cascadilla Park Road Road, “Near this spot in 1788 a log cabin was built by the first settlers of Tompkins County — Peter Hinepaw, Isaac Dumond, Jacob Yaples. Erected by Cayuga Chapter Daughters of the American Revolution 1927

This late winter walk, captured through my lens, was a celebration of the quiet splendor of the season and the enduring spirit of a place that thrives on discovery and growth.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Reflections on Hawkweed: A Meditative Journey Along Buttermilk Creek

Discover the enchanting hawkweed along Buttermilk Creek’s path. Explore its vibrant yellow blooms, unique reproduction, and rich folklore in our latest nature essay. Dive into the captivating world of this resilient wildflower!


Walking along the path that climbs from the lower park into the gorge of Buttermilk Creek, I am drawn to the vibrant splash of yellow that punctuates the verdant green and shale, limestone of the path. Here I encounter the humble yet striking hawkweed (Hieracium spp.). These yellow flowers, seemingly modest in their simplicity, invite me into a deeper contemplation of nature’s intricacies.

A Closer Look

The hawkweed’s leaves form a basal rosette, their slightly toothed edges and hairy surface distinguishing them from other woodland plants. The leaves are a deep green, the tiny hairs catching the sunlight, giving them a silvery sheen. From this rosette emerges an erect stem, slender and bristling with fine hairs, reaching upwards to support the flower heads. The stems stand tall, bearing clusters of small, dandelion-like flowers that open into a cheerful yellow bloom.

These Hawkweed grow profusely along the climb along Buttermilk Creek and into the gorge. Buttermilk Falls Park, Ithaca, Tompkins County, New York State. Finger Lakes Region

Each flower head consists of numerous tiny florets, collectively forming a radiant disc. The petals are intricately fringed, almost feathery, a delicate contrast to the sturdy stem that holds them aloft. This contrast is a reminder of the balance in nature—strength and fragility coexisting in harmony.

Relationship and Reproduction

Hawkweeds belong to the Asteraceae family, sharing familial ties with daisies and dandelions. Despite their visual similarity to dandelions, hawkweeds possess unique reproductive strategies. They are known for their ability to reproduce asexually through a process called apomixis. This means that the seeds produced by hawkweed are genetically identical to the parent plant. In a grouping of hawkweeds, what appears to be a diverse collection of individuals may, in fact, be clones of a single genetic ancestor.

This method of reproduction ensures the rapid spread and establishment of hawkweed populations, a survival strategy that has both fascinated and frustrated botanists and gardeners alike. While this cloning capability allows hawkweeds to thrive in various environments, it also poses a challenge for those trying to control their spread.

Etymology and Origins

The genus name “Hieracium” is derived from the Greek word “hierax,” meaning hawk. According to ancient lore, hawks were believed to consume the sap of this plant to sharpen their vision. This mythological connection to hawks underscores the plant’s perceived potency and its storied place in folklore.

Hawkweed is not native to the Finger Lakes region but was introduced from Europe. Despite its non-native status, it has adapted well to the local environment, often found in meadows, along roadsides, and within open woodlands. Its ability to colonize disturbed areas has enabled it to become a common sight across the landscape.

Historical Uses and Lore

Throughout history, hawkweed has been used for various medicinal purposes. Traditional herbalists valued it for its purported benefits in treating respiratory ailments, digestive issues, and skin conditions. The plant was often brewed into teas or concoctions believed to have diuretic and astringent properties. Some cultures also used hawkweed as a charm against evil spirits, further embedding it in the tapestry of folklore and superstition.

In medieval times, hawkweed was sometimes used in love potions and to enhance psychic abilities. Its association with hawks and keen vision lent itself to these mystical uses, as people sought to harness the plant’s reputed powers for their own needs.

A Contemplative Pause

As I stand on the path, surrounded by the quiet beauty of Buttermilk Creek, I reflect on the hawkweed before me. This unassuming plant, with its bright flowers and tenacious growth, embodies resilience and adaptability. It thrives in the cracks and crevices of the rocky soil, a testament to nature’s relentless drive to flourish even in the most challenging conditions.

The hawkweed’s ability to clone itself, creating vast networks of genetically identical plants, speaks to the interconnectedness of life. Each plant is a reflection of its predecessors, a living link in the chain of existence. This genetic continuity is a reminder of the ways in which life persists and propagates, ensuring survival through the ages.

I found this growing along the South Rim Trail of Taughannock Falls Park during a Fathers Day Walk, June 16, 2024.Picris hieracioides, or hawkweed oxtongue, is a species of flowering plant in the family Asteraceae. Invasive Species Hawkweed Oxtongue is considered an invasive species in North America because it has the ability to outcompete native plants, reduce biodiversity, and alter ecosystems. The plant spreads rapidly and can form dense monocultures, making it difficult for other plants to grow. Additionally, Hawkweed Oxtongue produces a chemical that inhibits the growth of other plants, further contributing to its invasive nature. Control and Management The control and management of Hawkweed Oxtongue can be challenging. The plant has a deep taproot that makes it difficult to remove by hand, and it can regrow from small root fragments left in the soil. Herbicides can be effective in controlling the plant, but they can also harm other plants in the area. The best approach to managing Hawkweed Oxtongue is to prevent its spread by avoiding the movement of soil or plant material that may contain seeds or root fragments. Uses Despite its invasive nature, Hawkweed Oxtongue has some traditional medicinal uses. The plant contains compounds that have been used to treat digestive problems, skin conditions, and respiratory issues. However, the use of this plant for medicinal purposes is not recommended due to the potential for toxicity. In conclusion, Hawkweed Oxtongue is an invasive species that has the potential to cause significant ecological damage. It is important to prevent the spread of this plant and to take measures to control its growth where it has already become established. While it has some traditional medicinal uses, the potential for toxicity means that it should not be used for this purpose. Text taken from http://www.wildflowerweb.co.uk/plant/2453/hawkweed-oxtongue

In the stillness of the gorge, I find a sense of peace and connection. The hawkweed, with its storied past and practical resilience, offers a lesson in simplicity and strength. It reminds me that beauty often lies in the small, overlooked details of the natural world, and that every plant, every flower, has a story worth discovering.

As I continue my journey along Buttermilk Creek, the hawkweed’s bright blooms remain a vivid memory, a symbol of the enduring spirit of nature.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

The Wonder of Penstemon hirsutus in Treman Gorge

Discover the enchanting Hairy Beardtongue nestled in Treman Gorge. Learn about its striking lavender blooms, unique adaptations, and fascinating history in our latest nature exploration. Dive into the beauty of Penstemon hirsutus!

On a sunny day at the end of May 2024, I embarked on one of my cherished walks through Robert H. Treman Park, located in the heart of Ithaca, New York. The park, with its stunning gorges and waterfalls, never ceases to amaze me with its natural beauty and diverse plant life. This time, my exploration led me to a delightful discovery along the south-facing walls of Treman Gorge: Penstemon hirsutus, commonly known as the Hairy Beardtongue.

As I navigated the rocky terrain, my attention was caught by a cluster of delicate, tubular flowers emerging from the crevices of the gorge walls. Their soft lavender hues stood out against the rugged backdrop of moss-covered rocks and shale. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the characteristic hairy stems and leaves, confirming that I had indeed found Penstemon hirsutus.

Penstemon hirsutus is a perennial herbaceous plant native to eastern North America. It typically reaches a height of 1 to 3 feet, with erect stems covered in fine hairs. The leaves are lanceolate, arranged oppositely along the stem, and also bear a slight fuzziness. The flowers, which bloom from late spring to early summer, are tubular and two-lipped, resembling a small beard—a feature that likely inspired the common name “Beardtongue.” Each flower is about 1 to 1.5 inches long, with a delicate lavender color that fades to white at the throat.

The genus name “Penstemon” is derived from the Greek words “pente,” meaning five, and “stemon,” meaning stamen, referring to the plant’s five stamens—four fertile and one sterile, the latter often appearing as a small, hairy tongue within the flower. The species name “hirsutus” comes from Latin, meaning hairy, a nod to the plant’s hirsute stems and leaves.

The Hairy Beardtongue thrives in well-drained soils and can often be found in rocky, open woodlands, meadows, and along cliffs—exactly the kind of environment provided by Treman Gorge. This plant is well-adapted to the microhabitats created by the gorge’s south-facing walls, where sunlight and moisture create ideal growing conditions. The rock walls not only offer physical support but also help retain heat and moisture, creating a microclimate that supports a variety of plant species.

Historically, Penstemon hirsutus and its relatives have been valued for their ornamental beauty and ecological benefits. The flowers attract a variety of pollinators, including bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds, making them an important component of the local ecosystem. Native Americans also recognized the medicinal properties of some Penstemon species, using them to treat ailments such as toothaches, sore throats, and respiratory issues.

In recent times, gardeners and horticulturists have come to appreciate Penstemon hirsutus for its hardiness and low maintenance requirements. It is often used in native plant gardens, rock gardens, and naturalized areas to add a touch of wild beauty. The plant’s ability to thrive in poor soils and its resistance to deer browsing make it a valuable addition to any garden aiming to support local wildlife and biodiversity.

Finding the Hairy Beardtongue in Treman Gorge was a moment of pure joy and wonder. It reminded me of the resilience and adaptability of nature, as this delicate yet sturdy plant has carved out a niche for itself in the rocky walls of the gorge. The sight of its soft lavender blooms swaying gently in the breeze was a testament to the beauty and tenacity of life in even the most rugged environments.

As I continued my hike, I felt a renewed sense of connection to the natural world. The discovery of Penstemon hirsutus was not just a botanical find but a reminder of the intricate and interconnected web of life that thrives in Treman Gorge. Each plant, each flower, has a story to tell—a story of survival, adaptation, and beauty that enriches our understanding of the natural world and our place within it.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

The Joy of Adventure at Treetops

Join us as we explore the enchanting “Treetops” treehouse at Cayuga Nature Center. Discover the joy of hide and seek, and the magic of nature, through the eyes of my grandsons on a serene Sunday morning.

The air was crisp and cool as I strolled hand in hand with my grandsons, Sam and Rory, through the vibrant greens of the Cayuga Nature Center. The leaves rustled gently in the Sunday morning breeze, their whispers the only company we had. It was a quiet, serene moment, with no one else around, and the boys’ excitement was palpable as they chattered about their previous visits.

“Grandpa, do you remember this place?” Sam asked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. Rory, not to be outdone, chimed in, “We have to show you the treehouse! It’s the best part!”

Their enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself eager to see this magical place they spoke of. We followed a winding path, each step bringing us deeper into the lush woodland, until at last, the imposing structure of the “Treetops” treehouse came into view. It stood tall and mysterious; an intricate wooden edifice cloaked in the verdant embrace of the forest.

The treehouse was a marvel, its towering form constructed of twisted branches and sturdy planks, blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. A wooden bridge led up to the entrance, and as we approached, the boys’ pace quickened.

“Let’s play hide and seek!” Rory suggested, his voice echoing with excitement. Sam nodded vigorously, already darting towards the treehouse entrance. “You count, Grandpa!” he called over his shoulder.

I began counting aloud, my voice mingling with the sounds of nature—the chirping of birds, the gentle rustle of leaves. When I reached twenty, I opened my eyes to find the boys had disappeared into the labyrinth of the treehouse. I stepped inside, the cool shade a welcome respite from the sun’s gentle warmth.

The interior was a maze of hidden nooks and winding staircases, each turn revealing a new secret. I could hear the faint giggles of the boys as they tried to stifle their laughter. The treehouse was alive with the echoes of their joy, each sound bouncing off the wooden walls like a symphony of childhood exuberance.

As I navigated the winding paths, I couldn’t help but marvel at the intricate details of the structure. The signs scattered throughout added an educational touch, detailing the lives of the birds and spiders that called this place home. One sign, titled “A Place For Everyone,” explained how each bird species had its niche, much like the boys had found their hiding spots.

“Found you!” I called out, spotting Sam’s bright red shirt from behind a wooden beam. He laughed and dashed off, his footsteps a rhythmic drumbeat on the wooden floor. Rory was next, his giggles giving away his hiding spot behind a thick cluster of branches.

We continued our game, the treehouse transforming into a magical playground where time seemed to stand still. The boys’ laughter filled the air, mingling with the natural symphony of the forest. We explored every corner, from the highest platform with its breathtaking view of the surrounding forest to the dark, cozy nooks perfect for hiding.

Phillips Falls is a picturesque waterfall located on Comstock Creek in view of the Treetops treehouse within the Cayuga Nature Center in Ithaca, New York. The falls are a highlight of the Nature Center, offering visitors a scenic and tranquil spot to enjoy the natural beauty of the area. The waterfall is accessible via the nature trails that wind through the Center’s diverse landscapes, including forests and meadows. Here are a few key points about Phillips Falls: Scenic Beauty: Phillips Falls is known for its serene and beautiful setting, making it a popular spot for nature enthusiasts, hikers, and photographers. Hiking Trails: The falls can be reached by hiking trails within the Cayuga Nature Center. The trails vary in difficulty, providing options for different levels of hikers. Educational Programs: The Cayuga Nature Center often includes Phillips Falls in its educational programs and guided tours, focusing on the ecology and geology of the area. Wildlife Habitat: The area around Phillips Falls is home to a variety of wildlife, making it a great spot for birdwatching and observing other animals in their natural habitat. Seasonal Changes: The appearance and flow of the waterfall can change with the seasons, offering a different experience for visitors throughout the year. Overall, Phillips Falls is a cherished natural feature of the Cayuga Nature Center, providing both a peaceful retreat and an educational experience for visitors.

After our game, we stood on the bridge, looking out over the creek below. The water sparkled in the sunlight, a serene contrast to our playful morning. “This place is amazing,” I said, turning to the boys. They nodded, their faces flushed with happiness.

“We love coming here,” Sam said. “It’s like a secret world.”

Rory nodded in agreement. “And now you know our secret too, Grandpa.”

As we made our way back down the path, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for this moment, for the chance to share in the boys’ joy and to see the world through their eyes. The “Treetops” treehouse had not only been a place of play but also a bridge between generations, a testament to the simple, timeless pleasures of exploring nature together.

Phillips Falls on Comstock Creek, seen from Treetops

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Forest Gems – The Natural History and Lore of Hepatica

Join us on a journey through the enchanting forests of the Finger Lakes as we explore the fascinating world of Hepatica nobilis. Discover the lore, natural history, and beauty of these early spring bloomers. Dive into the magic of the wild!

As I ventured along the Gorge Trail of Robert H. Treman New York State Park, I stumbled upon a captivating sight. Amidst the rich leaf litter and emerging greenery, clusters of Hepatica plants caught my eye. Although the flowers had already gone to seed, their distinctive leaves and stems told a story of early spring beauty in the heart of the Finger Lakes Region, Tompkins County. Using my Apple iPhone 14 ProMax, I documented these charming plants, eager to delve deeper into their fascinating world.

Hepatica, scientifically known as Hepatica nobilis, also goes by several common names including Liverleaf, Liverwort, and Kidneywort. The genus name “Hepatica” comes from the Greek word “hepar,” meaning liver, due to the shape and color of its leaves, which resemble the lobes of a human liver. This resemblance led to the plant being used historically in herbal medicine to treat liver ailments, in line with the Doctrine of Signatures—a belief that plants resembling body parts could cure ailments of those parts.

Fillmore Glen New York State Park, Moravia, New York on an April afternoon.

The common names of Hepatica reflect its historical medicinal uses. “Liverleaf” and “Liverwort” both reference its liver-shaped leaves, while “Kidneywort” likely arose from the kidney-like appearance of its seeds. These names have endured through centuries, reflecting the plant’s significant role in both folklore and herbal medicine.

Hepatica is a perennial plant in the buttercup family, Ranunculaceae. It thrives in deciduous forests, often found in shaded areas with rich, well-drained soil. The plant is one of the first to bloom in early spring, producing delicate flowers in shades of white, pink, blue, or purple. By the time I encountered them on my hike, the flowers had already transitioned to seed, but the distinctive lobed leaves remained vibrant and lush.

Fillmore Glen New York State Park, Moravia, New York on an April afternoon.

Reproduction in Hepatica is primarily through seed, though the plant can also propagate vegetatively. The flowers are insect-pollinated, attracting early-season pollinators such as bees and flies. Once pollinated, the flowers produce seeds encased in small, fuzzy fruits. These seeds are often dispersed by ants, a process known as myrmecochory, which helps ensure the plant’s spread throughout the forest floor.

Native American tribes, including the Iroquois, valued Hepatica for its medicinal properties. They used the leaves to brew teas believed to treat liver disorders, digestive issues, and skin ailments. European settlers adopted similar practices, incorporating Hepatica into their own herbal remedies.

In European folklore, Hepatica was often associated with healing and protection. The plant was believed to ward off evil spirits and protect against various maladies. In the language of flowers, Hepatica symbolizes confidence and bravery, reflecting its early emergence in the harsh conditions of early spring.

Fillmore Glen New York State Park, Moravia, New York on an April afternoon.

Today, Hepatica continues to enchant nature enthusiasts and hikers with its early blooms and lush foliage. It plays a crucial role in the ecosystem, providing a vital source of nectar for early pollinators and contributing to the biodiversity of deciduous forests.

Walking through the gorge, I felt a deep connection to the natural history and cultural significance of Hepatica. The plant’s resilience and beauty, even in its seeding stage, served as a reminder of the enduring cycles of nature and the intricate relationships between plants, animals, and humans.

In conclusion, Hepatica nobilis, or Liverleaf, is a plant of remarkable beauty and historical significance. Its early spring blooms and distinctive leaves make it a cherished sight in the forests of the Finger Lakes. As I continued my hike, I felt a profound appreciation for the rich tapestry of life that Hepatica represents, a testament to the enduring wonders of nature.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

The Enchanting Sweet White Violets of Treman Gorge

Discover the enchanting Sweet White Violets (Viola blanda) in Treman Gorge. Join us as we explore their natural history, lore, and beauty in the heart of the Finger Lakes. Dive into the magic of spring time blooms!

As I walked the Gorge Trail of Robert H. Treman New York State Park, my attention was captivated by a lush carpet of delicate white flowers nestled among the vibrant green foliage. These enchanting blooms, known as Viola blanda or Sweet White Violets, were a delightful sight against the backdrop of the rugged terrain of the Finger Lakes Region in Tompkins County. Armed with my trusty Apple iPhone 14 ProMax, I couldn’t resist capturing the moment.

Viola blanda, also known as Sweet White Violet or Pale Violet, derives its scientific name from Latin. “Viola” is the classical Latin name for violets, while “blanda” means charming or pleasant, an apt description for these delightful little plants. The name “Sweet White Violet” alludes to the delicate and sweet fragrance of its flowers, a scent that is often subtle but unmistakably pleasant when noticed.

Sweet White Violets are perennial plants, part of the Violaceae family, and are typically found in moist, wooded areas. They are one of the first wildflowers to bloom in spring, their pure white petals standing out amidst the fresh green growth of the forest floor. The leaves are heart-shaped with finely serrated edges, and they form a dense mat that can cover the ground in a verdant blanket.

The reproduction of Viola blanda is fascinating. These plants produce both cleistogamous and chasmogamous flowers. The chasmogamous flowers, which are the ones most of us are familiar with, are the showy, white blooms that open fully and are pollinated by insects. Cleistogamous flowers, on the other hand, do not open and are self-pollinating. This dual strategy ensures that the plant can reproduce even in the absence of pollinators, securing its presence in the ecosystem year after year.

Native Americans, particularly the Iroquois tribes whose region this included, held violets in high regard. They used the plant medicinally to treat colds, coughs, and headaches. The leaves were often brewed into a tea, believed to have soothing properties. European settlers, too, were fond of the violet. They would often use the leaves and flowers in salads and as a garnish, taking advantage of both its nutritional value and pleasant taste.

Interestingly, in folklore, violets were associated with love and were often used in love potions. The ancient Greeks believed that violets could moderate anger and induce sleep. In the language of flowers, which was particularly popular during the Victorian era, violets symbolized modesty and faithfulness.

In modern times, the Sweet White Violet continues to charm nature enthusiasts and hikers alike. It plays a crucial role in the ecosystem, providing early spring nectar for pollinators such as bees and butterflies. The plant also serves as a host for certain butterfly species, which lay their eggs on the leaves. As the caterpillars hatch, they feed on the leaves, continuing the cycle of life.

Walking through the gorge, I felt a profound connection to the natural world. The Sweet White Violet, with its humble beauty and rich history, served as a reminder of the intricate web of life that thrives in these woods. Each step on the trail was a journey through the park and a walk through time, connecting me to the countless generations who have walked these paths before me, enchanted by the same delicate flowers.

In conclusion, the Viola blanda, or Sweet White Violet, is more than just a pretty face in the forest. It is a plant steeped in history, folklore, and ecological importance. As I continued my hike, I felt grateful for the opportunity to witness such beauty firsthand and to share in the timeless joy that these charming plants bring to the world.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Carex Plantaginea: A Hidden Gem in Treman Gorge

Venture into the shaded woods of Treman Gorge and discover the understated elegance of Carex plantaginea, or seersucker sedge. Explore its broad, textured leaves and uncover its place in nature’s tapestry. Read more!

Today I will start the practive of posting once a week, early Tuesday mornings.

As I made my way through Treman Gorge, the lush greenery and diverse plant life never ceased to amaze me. The trail led me to a lesser-known, but equally fascinating, plant that stood out amid the forest floor’s tapestry. This was Carex plantaginea, commonly known as plantainleaf sedge or seersucker sedge.

First Impressions

My attention was initially drawn to the broad, bright green leaves that resembled those of plantains, hence the common name “plantainleaf sedge.” The leaves were prominently veined and slightly wrinkled, reminiscent of seersucker fabric, giving the plant a unique texture. The scientific name, Carex plantaginea, aptly reflects this characteristic, with “plantaginea” referring to its plantain-like leaves.

Natural History and Habitat


Carex plantaginea is native to the deciduous forests of eastern North America. It thrives in the rich, moist soils found in these regions, making Treman Gorge an ideal habitat. The plant prefers shaded environments, often flourishing under the canopy of taller trees where it can take advantage of the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves.

This perennial sedge is part of the larger Carex genus, which includes numerous species of sedges that are often found in wetlands and forest understories. Unlike some of its relatives, Carex plantaginea is more commonly found in upland areas, adding to the diversity of the forest floor.

Historical and Modern Uses


Historically, Native American tribes recognized the utility of various Carex species, though specific references to Carex plantaginea are scarce. Sedges were generally used for their fibrous leaves, which could be woven into mats, baskets, and other useful items. The broad leaves of Carex plantaginea would have been particularly suitable for such purposes.

In modern times, Carex plantaginea is appreciated more for its ornamental value. Gardeners and landscape designers often use it in shade gardens and woodland settings, where its striking foliage and low maintenance needs make it a popular choice. Its ability to thrive in shaded areas with moist soil conditions makes it an excellent ground cover for forested landscapes.

Capturing the Moment


I couldn’t resist photographing Carex plantaginea to capture its distinctive beauty. The Apple Iphone 14 ProMax image shows the plant nestled among the rich vegetation of Treman Gorge, its vibrant green leaves contrasting with the surrounding foliage. The wrinkled texture of the leaves is clearly visible, highlighting the plant’s unique appearance.

As I continued my exploration, I felt a sense of wonder and appreciation for the hidden gems that nature offers. Carex plantaginea, with its subtle beauty and ecological importance, is a reminder of the intricate connections within forest ecosystems. Discovering this plant added another layer of richness to my journey through Treman Gorge, deepening my understanding and appreciation of the natural world around me.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Floral Anchors: Early Saxifrage’s Survival Dance in Treman Gorge

Step into the serene realms of Robert H Treman State Park, where the Early Saxifrage blossoms amidst ancient stones, embodying resilience and the timeless beauty of nature’s persistence against all odds.

Ambling along the rugged Gorge Trail within the serene expanse of Robert H Treman State Park, my gaze is caught by the delicate clusters of Early Saxifrage (Micranthes virginiensis), formerly known as Saxifraga virginiensis. Nestled in nooks and crannies along the limestone-rich corridors, this resilient plant, also colloquially known as “Virginia saxifrage” or “rockfoil,” presents a mesmerizing spectacle against the moss-draped backdrop of the gorge’s ancient stones.

Early Saxifrage thrives in these modest crevices, its roots gripping tightly to the scant soil amidst the rocks, drawing nourishment from the most unlikely of places. The plant’s small, white star-like flowers blossom in dense clusters, creating a soft contrast against the rugged gray of weathered stone. The base of the plant, typically hidden, burgeons with rosettes of spoon-shaped leaves, which persist through the winter, ready to embrace the spring with vigor.

This plant not only captures the eye but also whispers tales of medicinal lore. Historically, Early Saxifrage has been utilized in folk medicine, primarily valued for its supposed efficacy in dissolving kidney stones—a testament to its name, “saxifrage,” which means “stone-breaker.” Though modern usage does not commonly reflect these ancient practices, the plant’s presence here speaks to the deep-rooted herbal knowledge passed down through generations.

As I tread lightly over the worn paths that weave through the gorge, the sight of Early Saxifrage serves as a poignant reminder of the park’s ecological tapestry. This flora, modest yet striking, symbolizes the tenacity of life, blooming splendidly in the stark environment it calls home. It is a beacon of endurance and beauty, inviting us to pause and appreciate the quieter, often overlooked wonders of nature.

In this corner of the Finger Lakes, where water and stone sculpt the landscape, Early Saxifrage flourishes. It stands as a testament to the persistence of the wild, a delicate yet resilient inhabitant of this storied terrain, weaving its subtle magic into the fabric of the gorge. Here, among the whispers of streams and the echoes of stone, it finds its place, a fragile star in the vast, enduring sky of green.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

From Myths to Medicine Unraveling the Tales of False Solomon’s Seal

Step into Treman Gorge and discover the enchanting world of False Solomon’s Seal. Unveil the myths, medicinal uses, and ecological wonders of Smilacina racemosa as it flourishes beneath the forest canopy.

In the shaded woodland of Treman Gorge, near the tumbling waters of Lucifer Falls, the understory blooms with the intriguing presence of Smilacina racemosa, commonly known as false Solomon’s seal. This perennial wildflower’s identity is as layered as the forest floor it adorns, its names—both scientific and common—woven with historical and cultural threads.

Smilacina racemosa—the plant’s scientific name—offers a botanical breadcrumb trail to its identity. “Smilacina” derives from a diminutive form of the Latin word for smile, “smilax”, a reference not to the plant’s demeanor but to its resemblance to the related sarsaparilla plants, which belong to the genus Smilax. The species name “racemosa” speaks directly to its form, describing the characteristic raceme or cluster of flowers that gracefully arch at the end of its stalk, each blossom a delicate dot along the green wand.

The common name, false Solomon’s seal, tells a tale of mistaken identity and botanical homage. The name playfully suggests a sibling rivalry of sorts with its look-alike, the true Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum), which bears its flowers and fruits along the stem, rather than at the tip as in Smilacina. The term “Solomon’s seal” itself is steeped in lore, supposedly referring to the circular seals from King Solomon’s ring—a mark of wisdom and an echo in the circular scars on the rhizome of the true Solomon’s seal. Here, in this false version, the legacy is mimicked in form but remains uniquely distinct in its flowering finale.

As for its cultural tapestry, false Solomon’s seal holds its own chapter in Native American ethnobotany. The plant was not merely a forest decoration but a source of sustenance and medicine. Its young shoots and leaves were often harvested in spring, a woodland asparagus of sorts, eaten raw or cooked. The roots served a more medicinal role, employed in treatments from stomachaches to rheumatic pains, revealing a deep-rooted reverence for this plant’s healing potential.

Beyond its uses, false Solomon’s seal paints a broader stroke in the ecological canvas of Treman Gorge. Flowering in May, its creamy white blossoms are a ballet of light in the dappled shade, attracting a suite of spring pollinators. By autumn, the flowers give way to speckled red berries, a feast for the eyes and a banquet for birds and mammals, knitting itself into the life threads of its woodland home.

Thus, the journey of understanding Smilacina racemosa is as much about unearthing its etymological roots as it is about appreciating its ecological and cultural resonance. A plant of beauty and utility, it stands as a silent sentinel in the history-laden woods of Treman Gorge, its presence a whispered tale in the symphony of spring. As it stretches beneath the towering trees, it invites those who wander to delve deeper into its story, a tale woven through the very fabric of the forest floor.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved