Thayer Preserve: Autumn Still Life 5

Ithaca’s bedrock, formed 370 million years ago, deeply influences its landscape, neutralizes rainwater’s acidity, and carries a story of Earth’s resilience and transformation.

In Ithaca, New York, the story of the land is deeply rooted in its geology. Beneath the vibrant autumn leaves and along the path of Lick Creek lies a bedrock formed 370 million years ago. This ancient foundation, once the sediment of a vast inland sea, now forms the solid base upon which the city stands.

The bedrock here is a silent witness to Earth’s long history. Originating in the Devonian period, it marks a time when vast seas covered much of the Earth’s surface. Within these ancient waters, life flourished, leaving behind sediments that, over eons, transformed into the layered rock beneath Ithaca.

These layers are more than just historical records; they actively shape the landscape. The bedrock influences soil composition, affects plant growth, and directs the flow of streams. Lick Creek, with its clear waters, is one such stream that interacts intimately with this bedrock.

In autumn, the beauty of this interaction is vividly displayed. The red and yellow maple leaves create a striking contrast against the grey-blue backdrop of the bedrock, a blend of the vibrant present with the ancient past. These fallen leaves, over time, decompose and enrich the soil, continuing a cycle of life that this bedrock has supported for millions of years.

This bedrock also plays a crucial role in water chemistry. As acidic rainwater percolates through it, a remarkable transformation occurs. The bedrock naturally neutralizes the acidity of the rainwater. By the time the water emerges as streams, it is buffered to a neutral pH. This process is vital for maintaining the ecological balance of the area. The streams that flow out, including Lick Creek, support diverse ecosystems thanks to this natural filtration process.

Click photograph for larger view. Use combination keys to enlarge/reduce: Ctrl+ (Control / Plus) and Ctrl- (Control / Minus)

The neutral pH water is crucial for the flora and fauna of Ithaca. It sustains the forests, the wildlife, and the natural beauty that defines the region. This water, once acid rain, purified by the ancient bedrock, now nurtures life in its journey.

In Ithaca, the bedrock is a testament to the enduring nature of our planet. It reminds us of the continuous cycle of transformation that defines the Earth. The contrast of the autumn leaves against the bedrock is not just a scene of ephemeral beauty; it symbolizes the dynamic interplay between the living and the geological, between the present and the deep past.

The bedrock of Ithaca, with its ability to neutralize acidic water, highlights the interconnectedness of natural processes. It shows how the Earth self-regulates and sustains life in intricate ways. As the buffered, neutral pH water of Lick Creek flows over this bedrock, it carries with it the story of a planet that is constantly renewing and sustaining itself.

In this landscape, the past is not just a memory; it is an active participant in the present. The bedrock, the autumn leaves, and the flowing streams tell a story of resilience, continuity, and the beauty of nature’s balance. This is the legacy of Ithaca’s bedrock, a legacy of endurance, transformation, and life.

Click Me to view my photographs on Getty.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved http://www.MichaelStephenWills.com

Thayer Preserve: Autumn Still Life 3

on display

Crisp maple leaves among hemlock roots on the bank of Lick Brook, Thayer Preserve. Nestled within the breathtaking expanse of Tompkins County in New York’s Finger Lakes Region, is a canvas where nature paints its most exquisite scenes. This preserve is a symphony of serene landscapes, a place where the tranquility of nature is preserved and cherished.

In this haven, the chorus of birdsong greets the day, echoing through the lush canopy of trees that stand as ancient guardians of the land. Oaks, maples, and hemlocks, some as old as time, stretch their boughs towards the sky, creating a verdant cathedral that shelters a diverse array of flora and fauna. The sunlight filters through these leafy domes, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, a mosaic of light and life.

Click photograph for larger view. Use combination keys to enlarge/reduce: Ctrl+ (Control / Plus) and Ctrl- (Control / Minus)

The trails of Thayer Preserve meander through this natural paradise, inviting visitors to embark on a journey of discovery. Each path is a narrative, telling the story of the land, from the delicate wildflowers that peek shyly from the underbrush to the stately deer that roam with a quiet dignity.

The preserve is not just a place of beauty; it’s a testament to the delicate balance of ecosystems. Here, conservation efforts intertwine with recreation, ensuring that the splendor of the environment is preserved for future generations. It’s a sanctuary where the hustle of modern life fades, and one can reconnect with the earth’s gentle rhythms.

As the seasons change, Thayer Preserve transforms. Spring brings a burst of color, with wildflowers carpeting the ground. Summer deepens the greens of the forest, while autumn sets the woods ablaze with fiery hues. In winter, a serene blanket of snow envelopes the landscape, turning it into a quiet wonderland.

In the heart of the Finger Lakes Region, Thayer Preserve stands as a beacon of natural beauty and tranquility. It’s a place where the soul can find peace, the mind can wander freely, and the heart can revel in the simple joy of nature’s embrace. This preserve is not just a location on a map; it’s a journey, an experience, a love letter to the natural world.

Click Me to view my photographs on Getty.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved http://www.MichaelStephenWills.com

Thayer Preserve: Autumn Still Life 2

Hemlock Roots

Maple leaves and hemlock roots share an environment yet play distinct roles in the ecosystem. Maple leaves, broad and vibrant, capture sunlight. This process fuels their growth and contributes to the air we breathe. Each fall, these leaves turn yellow and brown, signaling a natural change. They fall, joining the forest floor. Here, they decompose, becoming part of the soil. This enriches the earth, supporting new plant life.

Hemlock roots anchor these mighty trees. Reaching deep into the soil, drawing up water and nutrients. These roots also stabilize soil, preventing erosion and are a network, unseen but vital, connecting the tree to its environment.

Click photograph for larger view. Use combination keys to enlarge/reduce: Ctrl+ (Control / Plus) and Ctrl- (Control / Minus)

These natural processes have parallels in human generations. Like the leaves, each generation has its time in the sun. People grow, contribute to their world, and then make way for the next. The knowledge and experiences they leave behind enrich the lives of those who follow, much like fallen leaves nourish the soil.

Similarly, the hemlock roots parallel the foundational elements of human society. Traditions, cultures, and values are passed down, anchoring each new generation. They provide stability and nourishment, helping to guide growth and development.

Over time, just as the forest evolves through the cycles of leaves falling and roots growing, human societies change. Each generation builds upon the last, growing in the richness left behind. This ongoing cycle speaks to the resilience and interconnectedness of life, whether in a forest or in human communities.

In both nature and human experience, there is a rhythm of growth, contribution, and renewal. The falling of maple leaves, and the steadfastness of hemlock roots illustrate this beautifully, reminding us of the continuity and change inherent in all living systems.

Click Me to view my photographs on Getty.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved http://www.MichaelStephenWills.com

Thayer Preserve: Autumn Still Life 1

color pallet

In the heart of nature, where Lick Creek flows, the land is a preserve. It guards the essence of the wild. Trees, tall and timeless, hemlocks, stand like sentinels. Their roots twist and turn, merging with the earth. Among them, maple leaves lie. They have journeyed from their branches to the ground. Yellow and brown, they rest. They carpet the soil, a patchwork of autumn’s farewell.

The creek murmurs. Its waters are a constant traveler, never still. They speak of journeys unseen. Along its banks, the leaves are at the end of their own journey. Melding with the earth, becoming part of something greater.

Click photograph for larger view. Use combination keys to enlarge/reduce: Ctrl+ (Control / Plus) and Ctrl- (Control / Minus)

Here, time moves differently. It’s marked not by clocks but by the subtle shifts of nature. Leaves fall, waters flow, the trees stand watch. This is a cycle, ancient and endless. In this preserve, every element has a role, a purpose. Together, they create a harmony.

This place, where leaves fall and waters flow, is more than a preserve. It is a reminder. In nature’s embrace, everything finds its place. Everything belongs. Even as leaves fall, they find a new purpose. In their resting, they nourish. In their silence, they speak of life’s endless cycle.

Click Me to view my photographs on Getty.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved http://www.MichaelStephenWills.com

Woodland Shelters…

Here we have the harmony between humans and nature, represented through woodland shelters like lean-tos and birdhouses. It portrays these shelters as spaces of coexistence, mutualistic masterpieces blending function, form, and aesthetic in nature.

…on the Dam Pond at Fillmore Glen.

Hint: click image for larger view. Ctrl/+ to enlarge / Ctrl/- to reduce

…vines running free.

In the dappled sanctuary of the woodlands, where the rustle of leaves is a constant whisper and the breeze carries the secrets of the earth, there lies an unspoken harmony between the realm of the rooted and the realm of the roving. Here, the art of shelter is not just necessity but poetry—a dialogue between man and nature, bird and branch, leaf and sky. It is in the woodland shelters—those humble lean-tos and the charming birdhouses—that this conversation finds its most enchanting expressions.

A lean-to, a simple structure, a slant of sanctuary against the embracing trunk of a venerable oak or the crook of a steadfast pine, rises like an ode to minimalist refuge. It is both a testament to human ingenuity and a bow to the grandeur of the forest. Constructed from the very bones of the woods, with limbs that have fallen in the last tempest’s dance, it is clad in the textures of the wild—a tapestry of bark, a patchwork of leaves. It does not impose but rather suggests, whispering, “Here, rest awhile, where the earth holds you and the canopy cradles the sky.”

Within this woodland embrace, the lean-to is the hermit’s haven, the hiker’s pause, the dreamer’s alcove. It is the place where one can commune with the murmur of the brook, the chitter of the squirrel, and the silent flight of the owl at twilight. It is here that the smoke of a small fire mingles with the mist of dawn, where stories unfold to the rhythm of the crackling embers and the forest listens.

And what of the birdhouses, those quaint dwellings that pepper the woodland tableau? They are not mere shelters but the grand stages for the aerial ballet of wings and the morning serenades of feathered minstrels. Each is a mansion of possibility, an invitation etched in wood and lovingly placed among the boughs. They are the outposts of avian dreams, where the pulse of tiny hearts beats in time with the dripping of rain and the warmth of the sun’s caress.

The birdhouse is a symbol of the generosity of the woodsman’s spirit, a gift to the skyborne, a token of respect to the delicate denizens of the firmament. Here, the chickadee, the finch, the nuthatch, and the wren find respite and nurture the next generation of sky dancers. Each hole is a portal to a home, each perch a threshold to the warmth within, and every departure and return is witnessed by the vigilant trees, the silent sentinels of the forest.

Lean-tos and birdhouses, these woodland shelters, are the chorus of the sylvan symphony, the unseen chords that bind human to habitat, life to life. They are proof that in the quiet places of the world, where humanity treads lightly and the wild holds sway, there can be a beautiful coexistence, a mutualistic masterpiece painted on the canvas of the wilderness. They stand as symbols of the beauty that arises from the marriage of function and form, purpose and aesthetic, the innate and the crafted.

In the woodland shelters, there is a rhapsody played in the key of nature—a song of simplicity, of connection, of the perpetual dance between the earth and its many children. It is here, in the lean-tos and birdhouses, that the heart of the woods beats strongest, beneath the watchful eyes of ancient trees and the endless sky.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com

Backlit

Ferns, ancient plants with unique reproduction strategies and ecological significance, adapt to diverse environments while contributing to overall biodiversity and human culture.

In the vast tapestry of the plant kingdom, ferns occupy a unique and enduring place. These ancient plants, often overlooked in favor of their flowering counterparts, have a fascinating and seemingly eternal existence that spans millions of years. Ferns, with their lush green fronds and distinctive reproductive mechanisms, offer us a glimpse into the enduring legacy of life on Earth and the remarkable adaptations that have allowed them to persist through the ages.

Ferns belong to the group of plants known as Pteridophytes, which evolved more than 360 million years ago during the late Devonian period. Their evolutionary history predates the appearance of flowering plants, making ferns some of the oldest living organisms on our planet. This remarkable longevity raises the question: how have ferns managed to survive and thrive for so long?

One key to the success of ferns lies in their unique reproductive strategy. Unlike flowering plants that produce seeds, ferns reproduce via spores. These small, dust-like structures contain the genetic material necessary for ferns to reproduce. When mature, ferns release spores into the environment, where they can be carried by the wind or water to new locations. Once a spore finds a suitable environment, it can germinate and develop into a new fern plant.

The spore-based reproduction of ferns is not only ancient but also highly efficient. It allows ferns to colonize diverse habitats, from moist, shaded forests to arid deserts. Additionally, ferns can form extensive networks of underground rhizomes, which are creeping stems that give rise to new fronds. This vegetative propagation further contributes to their resilience and adaptability.

Ferns have also developed a range of adaptations that enable them to thrive in various environmental conditions. Some fern species, such as the resurrection fern (Pleopeltis polypodioides), can endure extreme desiccation. When conditions are dry, these ferns curl up and appear dead, but they can quickly revive and unfurl their fronds when moisture returns. Backpacking through mountainous Arizona wilderness I encountered small ferns growing in the shade of rock ledges, maybe this was Phillips Cliff Fern (Woodsia phillipsii). My guide called it “Ridgeline Fern” and claimed it was important for desert survival, could be eaten in extremis situations. This remarkable ability to withstand drought and promote human survival is a testament to the tenacity and usefulness of ferns.

Another intriguing aspect of ferns is their mutualistic relationship with mycorrhizal fungi. These fungi form symbiotic associations with fern roots, aiding in nutrient absorption and enhancing the fern’s ability to thrive in nutrient-poor soils. This partnership has likely contributed to the fern’s ability to colonize a wide range of habitats and compete with other plant species.

While ferns have proven to be resilient survivors, they have also played a crucial role in shaping Earth’s ecosystems. Ferns are often early colonizers in disturbed or newly formed habitats, and their presence can help stabilize soils and create conditions suitable for the establishment of other plant species. In this way, ferns contribute to the ecological succession and overall biodiversity of ecosystems.

Beyond their ecological significance, ferns have captured the human imagination for centuries. Their delicate and intricate fronds have inspired art, literature, and even garden design. Many garden enthusiasts cultivate ferns for their ornamental beauty and unique charm.

In conclusion, the eternal life of ferns is a testament to the remarkable adaptability and resilience of these ancient plants. Their longevity, dating back millions of years, serves as a reminder of the enduring nature of life on Earth. Ferns have evolved unique reproductive strategies, adaptations to various environments, and mutualistic relationships that have allowed them to persist and thrive. Whether they are serving as pioneers in newly formed habitats or gracing our gardens with their elegance, ferns continue to capture our fascination and enrich the natural world. Their legacy reminds us of the intricate and interconnected web of life that has persisted on our planet through the ages.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Right Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com

Among Fallen Leaves

The red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit plant play a key role in seed dispersion, wildlife sustenance, and fueling its energy storage organ, the corm.

As the crisp air of autumn settles in and the leaves begin their spectacular transformation into hues of red, orange, and yellow, the forest floor comes alive with a myriad of hidden wonders. Among these wonders, the Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum) stands out for its striking red berries and the role they play in the fall glory of the woodland ecosystem. In this essay, we will explore the beauty and significance of these red berries and how they are intrinsically linked to the plant’s corm.

The Jack-in-the-Pulpit, a native perennial herbaceous plant of North America, is known for its distinctive appearance, featuring a hood-like structure known as the spathe and a tall, slender stalk called the spadix. It is during the fall season that the plant’s fascinating red berries make their appearance, contrasting vividly against the backdrop of autumn’s colors. These berries are the result of a process that begins in the spring, when the plant first emerges from its underground corm.

Throughout the growing season, the Jack-in-the-Pulpit devotes its energy to producing these striking red berries, which serve several important ecological functions. The red berries are not only visually appealing but also function as a means of reproduction for the plant. They contain seeds that, once mature, can be dispersed to establish new Jack-in-the-Pulpit plants. These seeds are often transported by animals that consume the berries, such as birds and rodents, which then disperse them in their droppings, contributing to the plant’s spread throughout the forest.

The bright red color of the berries is a key feature that attracts birds, making them an essential food source during the fall and early winter months. Birds like thrushes, cardinals, and robins are known to feed on the Jack-in-the-Pulpit berries, aiding in seed dispersal while benefiting from the nutrient-rich fruits. This mutualistic relationship between the plant and its avian dispersers showcases the interconnectedness of the forest ecosystem, where each species relies on the other for survival and propagation.

The significance of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit’s red berries extends to the corm beneath the surface. The corm serves as an energy storage organ for the plant, helping it survive through the harsh winter months when the above-ground parts of the plant wither and die. During the fall, as the plant directs its energy toward producing berries, it also transfers nutrients to the corm, ensuring its vitality and readiness for the following spring.

Furthermore, the corm itself can serve as an energy reserve for the production of future berries and the growth of new shoots. As the plant enters dormancy, it relies on the stored energy in the corm to fuel its growth when conditions become favorable in the next growing season. In this way, the corm and the red berries are intricately linked, with the berries representing the culmination of a year-long process of energy accumulation and reproduction.

In conclusion, the red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit are a captivating and vital component of the fall glory that graces our woodlands. Their vibrant color and ecological role in seed dispersal highlight the plant’s contribution to the forest ecosystem’s richness and diversity. Moreover, these berries are a testament to the interconnectedness of nature, as they are not only visually stunning but also an essential food source for wildlife. As we marvel at the beauty of fall and explore the wonders of the natural world, let us take a moment to appreciate the significance of the red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit and their role in the intricate web of life that surrounds us.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Right Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com

more Jennings Pond IV

Still life and stillness

I described Jennings Pond to Pam and we returned together. Here is a photographic essay from that day, one of a series.

The first image is the small concrete dam, taken from the footbridge over the pond outlet, source for Buttermilk Creek.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Newgrange VIII

The Newgrange facade and kerbstones consists of stones from various locations, believed to be transported by sea and river.

The Newgrange façade and entrance of today is a creation from the large quantity of small stones unearthed and conserved during excavation given form by a steel-reinforced concrete retention wall. 

The brilliant white quartz cobblestones were collected from the Wicklow Mountains, 31 miles to the south.  Our guide called them “sunstones” for the way they reflect sunlight. In the following photograph is white quartz, the same excavated 1967-1975 from the Newgrange site and incorporated into the facade, I collected from “Miners Way” along R756 (above Glendalough).

You can also see in these photographs dark rounded granodiorite cobbles from the Mourne Mountains, 31 miles to the north.  Dark gabbro cobbles from the Cooley Mountains and banded siltstone from the shore at Carlingford Lough both locations on the Cooley Peninsula where my mother’s family still has farms.

The stones may have been transported to Newgrange by sea and up the River Boyne by fastening them to the underside of boats at low tide. None of the structural slabs were quarried, for they show signs of having been weathered naturally, so they must have been collected and then transported, largely uphill, to the Newgrange site. The granite basins found inside the chambers also came from the Mournes.

Geological analysis indicates that the thousands of pebbles that make up the cairn, which together would have weighed about 200,000 tons, came from the nearby river terraces of the Boyne. There is a large pond in this area that is believed to be the site quarried for the pebbles by the builders of Newgrange.

Most of the 547 slabs that make up the inner passage, chambers, and the outer kerbstones are greywacke. Some or all of them may have been brought from sites either 3 miles away or from the rocky beach at Clogherhead, County Louth, about 12 miles to the northeast.

Click Me for the first post of this series.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Treman Early Autumn Walk XIV

The post discusses the Hepatica acutiloba plant, highlighting its characteristics, growth, historical medicinal use, and its natural habitat in central eastern North America. It also includes an observation made in Robert H. Treman Park.

These characteristic leaves are Hepatica plants growing on the sun dappled southern rim of Robert H. Treman Park captured on a bright late September morning.

“Hepatica acutiloba, the sharp-lobed hepatica, is a herbaceous flowering plant in the buttercup family Ranunculaceae. It is sometimes considered part of the genus Anemone, as Anemone acutiloba, A. hepatica, or A. nobilis. Also generally known as Liverleaf and Liverwort.”


“The word hepatica derives from the Greek ἡπατικός hēpatikós, from ἧπαρ hêpar ‘liver’, because its three-lobed leaf was thought to resemble the human liver.”


“Each clump-forming plant grows 5 to 19 cm (2.0 to 7.5 in) tall, flowering in the early to mid spring. The flowers are greenish-white, white, purple or pinkish in color, with a rounded shape. After flowering the fruits are produced in small, rounded columned heads, on pedicels 1 to 4 mm long. When the fruits, called achenes, are ripe they are ovoid in shape, 3.5–4.7 mm long and 1.3–1.9 mm wide, slightly winged and tend to lack a beak.”

Hepatica Flowers in early spring on the Rim Trail

“Hepatica acutiloba is native to central eastern North America where it can be found growing in deciduous open woods, most often in calcareous soils. Butterflies, moths, bees, flies and beetles are known pollinators. The leaves are basal, leathery, and usually three-lobed, remaining over winter.”

“Hepatica was once used as a medicinal herb. Owing to the doctrine of signatures, the plant was once thought to be an effective treatment for liver disorders. Although poisonous in large doses, the leaves and flowers may be used as an astringent, as a demulcent for slow-healing injuries, and as a diuretic.”

Ferns and Mosses growing beneath Red Pines

View of the lower falls and swimming hole from the Rim Trail

Click Me another post featuring Hepatica flowers

References
–text in italics and quotes is from Wikipedia, “Hepatica” and “Hepatica acutiloba.”
–“The Botanical Garden Vol II Perennials and Annuals,” Roger Phillips and Martyn Rix, Firefly Books, 2002.

Copyright 2023 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills