The American Basswood: A Journey of Discovery

Discover the rich history and ecological significance of the American Basswood, a majestic tree that intertwines nature, culture, and human history. Uncover its beauty, versatility, and the fascinating pollinators that bring it to life.

As I strolled through the sun-dappled glade, my eyes were drawn to a magnificent tree standing sentinel at the edge of the clearing. Its broad canopy spread like a green umbrella, casting a generous shade over the picnic bench below. Intrigued by its commanding presence, I approached, eager to unravel the secrets of this arboreal giant. Little did I know that this encounter would lead me on a journey through history, etymology, and the myriad uses of the American Basswood.

This photograph features the growth pattern for which the Basswood is known. Buttermilk Falls State Park, Ithaca, Tompkins County, New York State. The Finger Lakes Region.

The American Basswood, or Tilia americana, is a tree steeped in history and lore. Its name, “Basswood,” is derived from the word “bast,” referring to the inner bark of the tree, which is known for its fibrous and pliable nature. This etymology hints at the tree’s historical uses, which I would soon discover are as rich and varied as the foliage above me.

As I examined the leaves, I was struck by their heart-shaped form, a feature that has made the Basswood a symbol of love and romance in various cultures. The leaves were smooth and slightly serrated at the edges, with a deep green hue that seemed to capture the essence of summer. Hanging delicately from the branches were clusters of small, round buds, hinting at the tree’s flowering potential. These flowers, I would later learn, are not just beautiful but also aromatic, attracting bees and other pollinators with their sweet fragrance.

These are leaves from a branch broken by spring storms and fallen across the Finger Lakes Trail that follows the southern side of Treman Park above the South Rim Trail. Robert H. Treman New York State Park, Tompkins County, Ithaca. June 27, 2024

The history of the American Basswood in America is intertwined with the lives of indigenous peoples and early settlers. Native Americans valued the Basswood for its soft, easily worked wood and its inner bark, which they used to make ropes, mats, and other essential items. The tree’s wood, known for being lightweight and finely grained, was perfect for carving and crafting tools, utensils, and even ceremonial masks. This versatility made the Basswood an integral part of daily life and cultural practices.

With the arrival of European settlers, the uses of Basswood expanded. Settlers quickly recognized the tree’s potential, using its wood for a variety of applications. The soft, yet sturdy wood was ideal for making furniture, musical instruments, and even crates and boxes. Its workability and smooth finish made it a favorite among craftsmen and artisans. I imagined the hands of these early Americans, shaping and molding the wood, breathing life into their creations.

As I continued to explore the tree, I was drawn to the small, green fruits hanging from slender stems. These fruits, known as nutlets, are encased in a leafy bract that aids in their dispersal by wind. This ingenious natural design ensures the propagation of the species, allowing new generations of Basswoods to take root and flourish.

Curious about the tree’s name, I delved into its etymology and discovered an interesting linguistic journey. In England and Ireland, the Basswood is commonly referred to as the “Lime Tree.” This name does not relate to the citrus fruit tree but instead comes from the Old English word “Lind,” related to the German word “Linde.” Both terms historically referred to trees of the Tilia genus. Over time, “Lind” evolved into “Lime,” influenced by phonetic changes and regional dialects, solidifying the term “Lime Tree” for Tilia species in these regions. Despite sharing the same common name, the Tilia “Lime Tree” and the citrus “Lime Tree” belong to entirely different plant families.

The American Basswood’s significance extends beyond its practical uses. The tree has found a place in American culture and literature, often symbolizing strength, resilience, and longevity. Its towering presence and expansive canopy make it a popular choice for parks and public spaces, where it provides shade and beauty. I thought of the many people who must have sought refuge under its branches, finding solace and inspiration in its quiet strength.

In addition to its cultural and historical significance, the Basswood also plays a crucial ecological role. Its flowers are a vital source of nectar for bees, making it an essential component of local ecosystems. Beekeepers, in particular, value the Basswood for the high-quality honey produced from its nectar, known for its delicate flavor and aroma. The tree’s leaves and bark also provide habitat and food for various wildlife, contributing to the biodiversity of the area.

Pollination is a critical aspect of the American Basswood’s lifecycle, and a variety of insects are drawn to its fragrant, nectar-rich flowers. Honeybees (Apis mellifera) are among the most significant pollinators, their presence around the Basswood a testament to the tree’s importance in the ecosystem. These industrious bees not only gather nectar but also facilitate the pollination process, ensuring the production of seeds. Bumblebees (Bombus spp.) also play a crucial role, utilizing their unique buzz-pollination technique to effectively transfer pollen within the flowers.

These are leaves from a branch broken by spring storms and fallen across the Finger Lakes Trail that follows the southern side of Treman Park above the South Rim Trail. Robert H. Treman New York State Park, Tompkins County, Ithaca. June 27, 2024

Additionally, native bees such as sweat bees (Halictidae), mining bees (Andrenidae), and leafcutter bees (Megachilidae) are frequent visitors, drawn by the abundant nectar and pollen. Butterflies, while not as significant as bees, contribute to the pollination process, adding a touch of grace as they flutter from flower to flower. Moths, particularly those active in the evening, are another group of pollinators, their nocturnal activity complementing the daytime efforts of bees and butterflies. Hoverflies (Syrphidae), also known as flower flies, are attracted to the nectar and aid in the pollination, showcasing the diverse array of insects that rely on the Basswood.

Reflecting on my discovery, I realized the American Basswood is a living testament to the interconnectedness of nature and human history. Its presence in the landscape is a reminder of the many ways in which plants and trees shape our lives, providing resources, inspiration, and a connection to the natural world.

As I left the shade of the Basswood and continued my walk, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for the opportunity to learn and connect with this remarkable tree. Its story is a reminder of the importance of preserving and cherishing the natural world, ensuring that future generations can continue to discover and appreciate the wonders of the American Basswood.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Discovering Nature’s Secrets: A Grandfather’s Tale at Comstock Creek

Join me on a heartwarming adventure at Comstock Creek with my grandchildren, Sam and Rory, as we explore the wonders of nature, create lasting memories, and celebrate the legacy of the Comstock family.

The morning sun filtered through the lush canopy of trees as I guided my grandchildren, down the familiar path towards Comstock Creek of the Cayuga Nature Center. The children were familiar with the creek from time spent in summer camp. This little haven of nature is a favorite spot of theirs. Comstock Creek, named after the Comstock family, stands as a testament to their significant contributions to entomology and nature education. John Henry Comstock, a renowned entomologist, and his wife, Anna Botsford Comstock, a pioneering figure in nature study, left an indelible mark on the Ithaca area and beyond. Their legacy lives on, not just in the academic world, but in these very waters where my grandchildren now play.

As we reached the creek, the children wasted no time kicking off their shoes and wading into the cool, shallow water. My grandson, in his red shirt, and granddaugter, in her green one, both radiated joy and curiosity. The sunlight danced on the water’s surface, casting shimmering reflections that seemed to animate the entire scene.

The youngest was the first to discover a small pool where the water had carved out a deeper spot. “Look, Grandpa!” he exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. He crouched down, peering intently at the tiny fish darting around his feet. His sister joined him, her initial apprehension giving way to a wide-eyed fascination as she watched the underwater ballet.

Their time was spent turning over rocks to find little aquatic creatures and marveling at the delicate balance of nature. The children’s laughter echoed through the woods, blending with the sounds of rustling leaves and the gentle babble of the creek. Their sense of wonder reminded me of the Comstocks’ passion for nature, a passion they had so fervently shared with the world.

After a while, we decided to take a break and walked through the meadow past where tall reeds swayed gently in the breeze. He knew of a small, tranquil pond that reflected the sky like a mirror. He leaned the water’s edge,hoping to grab a frog. I stood back, capturing this peaceful moment with my camera, knowing that these images would become treasured memories.

As noon approached, we travelled back to Ithaca for an ice cream treat, promised them as a reward for their adventurous spirit. Their faces lit up with delight as they savored their treats, their expressions reflecting pure contentment.

The day wouldn’t have been complete without a splash in the pool. Back home, grandmother set up the inflatable volleyball net while the kids changed into their swimsuits. The pool became a hub of activity as they splashed around, their laughter blending with the sound of the water.

Reflecting on the day, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. The Comstock family’s dedication to nature education had inspired generations, including my own. Their legacy was evident not just in the academic institutions of Ithaca, but in the simple, joyous exploration of nature that I shared with my grandchildren. I hope this day at Comstock Creek will be remembered fondly, a chapter in our family’s ongoing story of discovery and connection with the natural world.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Epiphyte

Discover the enchanting world of Epiphyllum, where the “Night Blooming Cereus” thrives without soil, capturing moisture and nutrients from the air. Explore its unique beauty and ecological significance. Read more to delve into this fascinating plant’s story.

The Epiphyllum genus, which includes my “Night Blooming Cereus,” consists of epiphytic plants. The term “epiphytic” comes from the Greek epi- (meaning “upon”) and phyton (meaning “plant”). Epiphytic plants, sometimes called “air plants,” do not root in soil. However, this term can be misleading, as many aquatic algae species are also epiphytes on other aquatic plants (seaweeds or aquatic angiosperms). Therefore, it’s essential not to confuse the genus root word “phyllum” (leaf) with the generic term “phytic” (plant), even though they share the common prefix “epi.” A plant can be epiphytic without being part of the Epiphyllum genus.

These were captured with the Canon EOS 5D Mark IV dslr on a Manfrotto tripod.

An epiphyte is a plant or plant-like organism that grows on the surface of another plant, deriving its moisture and nutrients from the air, rain, or debris accumulating around it. The host plants on which epiphytes grow are called phorophytes. Unlike parasites, epiphytes use other plants merely for physical support and do not negatively impact the host. Epiphytes can also be called epibionts when growing on non-plant organisms. Common in both temperate zones (mosses, liverworts, lichens, algae) and the tropics (ferns, cacti, orchids, bromeliads), epiphytes enhance biodiversity and biomass in their ecosystems. They make excellent houseplants due to their minimal water and soil needs and create rich habitats for various organisms, including animals, fungi, bacteria, and myxomycetes.

Epiphytes are not connected to the soil and must source nutrients from fog, dew, rain, mist, and decomposing organic material. They have an advantage in the canopy, where they access more light and are less vulnerable to herbivores. Epiphytes also benefit animals that live in their water reservoirs, like some frogs and arthropods.

Epiphytes significantly affect their host’s microenvironment and the broader ecosystem. They hold water in the canopy, reducing soil water input, and create cooler, moister conditions, which can decrease the host plant’s water loss through transpiration. Non-vascular epiphytes, like lichens and mosses, are particularly efficient at rapid water uptake.

Click me for another “Cereus” Post.

Reference: my post draws heavily on this source: Wikipedia, “Epiphyte.”

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

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

Mother’s Day Amid the Blossoms of the Horse Chestnut

Explore the enchanting world of the Horse Chestnut, its vibrant spring blossoms, and its rich tapestry of historical and ecological significance, as I wander the slopes above Cayuga Lake on a serene Mother’s Day.


On a serene Mother’s Day in 2024, I found myself walking the slopes above Cayuga Lake, embraced by the spring warmth and the vibrant blossoms of the Horse Chestnut tree (Aesculus hippocastanum). This moment was a seasonal celebration and a deep dive into the botanical and cultural tapestry that this majestic tree weaves.

The Botanical Brilliance of the Horse Chestnut


The Horse Chestnut tree, with its robust stature and radiant floral displays, is a sight to behold, a study in botanical survival and adaptation. Originally native to a small area in the Pindus Mountains mixed forests and the Balkan mixed forests of Southeast Europe, this tree has traversed continents and histories to root itself into diverse landscapes, including the fertile grounds above Cayuga Lake.

Each spring, the Horse Chestnut’s candle-like flower spikes, scientifically known as ‘panicles’, burst forth in a shower of whites and subtle pinks, each petal marked distinctively with a blotch of yellow or red. These blooms are structured to attract a variety of pollinators, playing a crucial role in the local ecological narrative by supporting biodiversity.

Historical Uses and Cultural Significance


The journey of the Horse Chestnut tree from its native lands to the Americas is a tale of practicality and reverence. Native Americans, prior to the arrival of European settlers, were keen observers of their environment but may not have had a direct historical use for the Horse Chestnut, as it was introduced later. However, the European settlers quickly discovered the tree’s multiple uses. The wood, known for its softness and workability, was used to make furniture and boxes, while the bark found its place in the tanning industry due to its rich tannin content.

Most notably, the seeds of the Horse Chestnut were ground and used as a form of laundry detergent and to treat various ailments, a testament to the tree’s utility in pioneering life. This aspect of the Horse Chestnut highlights a broader theme of how both Native Americans and European settlers utilized natural resources for survival and economic purposes, blending the lines between utility and conservation.

A Reflection on the Natural History and Ecology


As I strolled beneath the boughs heavy with spring’s bounty, the historical echoes of the Horse Chestnut’s uses merged with the present chorus of birds nesting in its branches. The tree’s role extends beyond human uses; it is a vital component of the local ecosystems. The dense canopy provides shelter and the flowers feed pollinators, which in turn support the broader food web.

Environmental factors, particularly those influenced by climate change, pose challenges to the Horse Chestnut. Issues such as leaf blotch and the conker tree moth threaten its health and longevity. Observing the Horse Chestnut’s current vibrancy, I am reminded of the resilience and adaptability that this species has demonstrated over centuries.

Conclusion: A Legacy Continues

As the day drew to a close and the sun cast long shadows over Cayuga Lake, the Horse Chestnut stood as a botanical specimen, a living monument to natural history and human ingenuity. The tree’s story is a powerful reminder of our intertwined destinies with the plant kingdom—how plants shape our cultures, sustain our environments, and continue to amaze with their ecological and aesthetic contributions.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

The Hidden Songster of Ithaca: My Afternoon with a Gray Catbird

Amidst spruce needles, a Gray Catbird’s mew captivated me; a hidden minstrel whose dulcet mimicry and secretive charm turned my backyard in Ithaca into an amphitheater of nature’s most intricate symphonies.

In my backyard, amidst the spruce trees that seem to touch the sky, I had a unique encounter with a little gray bird known as the Dumetella carolinensis, or more commonly, the Gray Catbird. I learned that “Dumetella” comes from the Latin word for “thorny thicket”, hinting at its penchant for skulking in dense underbrush, often hidden from sight. Its species name, “carolinensis”, pays homage to the Carolinas, though this bird has certainly made a comfortable home here too.

This particular visitor had a call reminiscent of a cat’s mew, a curious sound that first drew my attention. As I peeked through the window, I noticed it wasn’t just imitating felines; it was a veritable mimic, echoing the songs of other birds, even copying the croaks of tree frogs, and sometimes the mechanical noises of our own making. Its syrinx, a true marvel of nature, allows it to produce two sounds simultaneously – an impressive feat for such a small creature.

Unlike the showy northern mockingbird or the brown thrasher, which repeat their musical phrases several times, this Gray Catbird preferred to sing each of its phrases just once. Its song was a bit raspier, less melodic but still captivating in its own right.

It’s interesting that the Gray Catbird often chooses to remain hidden when it sings, favoring the inner sanctuary of bushes or trees like the spruce in my yard, a natural stage set by verdant leaves and branches. And while I watched, it seemed content in its concealment, a master of melody cloaked in foliage.

As I observed it, I recalled reading that the Gray Catbird’s diet is as varied as its repertoire of sounds. Fruits and berries make up about half of its diet. This little bird has quite the palate, enjoying a smorgasbord that includes mealworms, earthworms, beetles, and other insects, not to mention the bounty of summer offerings such as ants, beetles, grasshoppers, caterpillars, moths, and a selection of berries from holly, cherry, elderberry, poison ivy, bay, and blackberries.

I made a mental note of the date, captured in the metadata of the photograph I snapped: 2021, from my home in Ithaca. A simple image, yet it encapsulated a serene moment of connection with a creature so adept at concealment and mimicry, a moment I would treasure. The Gray Catbird, with its unique song and dietary habits, has become a beloved part of my backyard symphony.

Reference: wikipedia, Gray Catbird.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Nature’s First Green….

…is gold, / her hardest hue to hold, / her early leaf’s a flower; / but only so an hour… Robert Frost

You walk alone by the waters of Cayuga Lake in Stewart Park, nestled in the heart of Ithaca’s Finger Lakes, where Salix alba, the white willow, stands proudly along the shoreline. You’re immediately drawn to the flurry of yellow flowers, a stark contrast to the still chilly early March air.

The white willow (Salix alba), with its rough, gray bark, is beginning to dress in its spring finery, its branches teeming with tiny, starburst-like flowers. Each one is a miniature sun, casting a glow against the intricate lattice of branches. These aren’t the soft catkins of the pussy willow but the yellow inflorescences that are characteristic of the white willow’s early bloom, a signpost that winter’s grip is loosening.

These trees, you learn, are dioecious, with separate male and female trees. The blossoms you see are likely the male flowers, their stamens dusting your fingers with pollen as you brush against them. It’s this pollen that will soon beckon the bees, urging them to emerge from their hives and begin the work that sustains the ecosystem. You can almost hear the faint buzz, a prelude to the symphony of life that summer will bring. Return in midsummer to find the female catkins comprise numerous small (4 mm) capsules, each containing numerous minute seeds embedded in silky white hairs, which aids wind dispersal.

As you wander further, you note the presence of the white willow’s kin, other deciduous companions some still bare and stretching into the sky and others leafing out. You stand there, at the cusp of seasonal change, where the slumbering trees are on the verge of awakening, and you feel a kinship with them. Like these trees, you have weathered the cold, dark months, and now you stand poised to greet the renewal that comes with spring.

The stark, knotted forms of the white willow branches against the clear sky speak to you of endurance and resilience. These trees have weathered storms and droughts; they have been companions to the lake, mirrors to its moods, and now they are beginning to celebrate the cycle of rebirth and growth.

You take a seat on a bench, the cool wood through your clothes a reminder of the lingering winter. You gaze out across the lake, the water reflecting the brilliance of the sun like a vast, rippling mirror, framed by the elegant silhouettes of the white willows. You feel the peace of the park seep into you, the slow, rhythmic lapping of the water syncing with your breath.

This is a moment of transition, from the sleeping to the awakening world. You think about the Salix alba, how its presence here is a testament to nature’s adaptability, thriving in the moist soil by the lake, offering shade in summer and shelter in winter, its branches a playground for the winds.

As you leave Stewart Park, you take with you the memory of the white willows in early March, the quiet guardians of Cayuga Lake. They remind you of the enduring beauty of nature, the seamless flow from one season to the next, and the quiet joy of standing witness to the first whispers of spring on the shores of the Finger Lakes.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Whispers in the Mist: A Space Coast Dawn

Embark on a serene journey through a fog-enshrouded Cocoa Beach at dawn. Feel the mystique of Florida’s Space Coast in this introspective walk captured in poignant blank verse.

Upon Cocoa Beach, in morning’s gentle embrace,
The world lies shrouded in a silken fog’s lace.
Soft sands whisper ‘neath my solitary feet,
As dawn’s quietude and ocean’s breath meet.

The sky, a canvas of muted grey,
A prelude to the coming of day.
The air, cool and moist upon my skin,
A tender caress, a whispering kin.

The steeple rises, a ghostly spire,
Amidst the mist, it stands, silent and dire.
Palm trees sway with a rhythmic grace,
In this hazy realm, time slows its pace.

A hammock hangs, still and forlorn,
Awaiting the laughter of a day reborn.
Houses peek, their outlines blurred,
In this soft world, all is unstirred.

The sea’s soft roar, a distant sound,
A symphony in the fog, profound.
I walk, and my thoughts begin to roam,
In this misty morning, I find a home.

The light grows, a gradual birth,
As the sun climbs to illuminate the earth.
The fog begins to lift, to rise,
Revealing the awakening of the skies.

Yet, in this moment, I am alone,
A soul adrift in a world of its own.
Here, where space and time coast,
I am but a specter, a fleeting ghost.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Resilient Mountain Beauty

Embark on a journey through the serene Rincon Mountain Wilderness with me. Witness the rugged beauty of the Hedgehog Cactus and the whispering Bear Grass through my lens. Let’s unravel the secrets of the desert together, and find solace in the still life of the Happy Valley Saddle. Join me, and let’s capture the enduring spirit of Arizona’s hidden treasures.

Continue reading “Resilient Mountain Beauty”