Tag: environmental education

Among the Trout Lilies in Sapsucker Woods

On April 22, 2025, a wanderer discovers a trout lily, representing nature’s cycles, patience, and the interconnectedness of life through blooming, pollination, and nutrient cycling.

MichaelStephenWills9 Comments

On the bright afternoon of April 22, 2025, I wander slowly through Sapsucker Woods, last year’s oak leaves soft underfoot and the smell of damp earth in the air. The trees stand bare, and somewhere a woodpecker drums as I search the ground for any sign of spring. A flash of gold catches my eye at the mossy base of a tree. Kneeling down, I find among the leaf litter a small wildflower glowing yellow.  It is a trout lily – Erythronium americanum – a solitary, nodding bloom on a slender stem. Six delicate petals flare backward, golden with a few reddish freckles near the throat; long stamens dangle beneath. Two lance-shaped leaves hug the ground, green marbled with burgundy-brown. Their mottled pattern looks like a brook trout’s flank. This flower is known by many names: “trout lily” for its fish-like leaves, “dogtooth violet” for its pointed white bulb 1, and “adder’s tongue” for its tongue-shaped leaf tip.

Its formal name, Erythronium americanum, comes from the Greek for “red”2—odd for a yellow bloom until one remembers the purple dogtooth violets of Europe. Americanum simply marks it as native here. I soon realize these trout lilies are not alone – dozens of dappled leaves carpet the damp earth around me. Most show no blossom at all, only a single freckled leaf standing alone. Only the older plants with two leaves manage to lift a yellow flower. In fact, they often form extensive colonies on the forest floor. I’ve learned a trout lily may wait seven years to bloom its first time3. Seasons of patience pass unseen underground, and then one spring it earns the chance to unfurl a golden star. That slow, patient rhythm of growth fills me with wonder.

A tiny black bee—or maybe a fly—lands on the trout lily’s bloom, drawn by its promise of pollen. It disappears into the flower’s downturned bell, brushing against the dusting of pollen inside. In early spring, few other blossoms are open, so this little lily is a lifeline for hungry pollinators4. There is even a solitary “trout lily bee” that times its life to these flowers5. Flower and insect share an ancient pact: the lily feeds the visitor, and the visitor carries the lily’s pollen onward to another bloom.

Within a week, the trout lily’s golden star will wither. By the time the canopy closes overhead, the flower will have curled into a green seedpod that splits open by early summer, releasing its seeds6. Each seed carries a tiny parcel of food irresistible to ants7. Ants haul the seeds to their nest, eat the morsel, and abandon the seed in their tunnels—unwittingly planting the next generation. The name for this circular ecological dance is myrmecochory. Over time, the colony inches across the forest floor, guided by these tiny gardeners. During its short life above ground, this little lily helps the forest. Its roots soak up nutrients from the damp soil, keeping them from washing away in spring rains8. When the plant dies back, those nutrients return to the earth as the leaves decay, nourishing other life. In this way, a patch of trout lilies forms a quiet bridge between seasons—capturing nutrients in spring and returning them by summer’s end. I touch one cool leaf, feeling connected to this cycle.

I rise and take a final look at the little yellow lily. Its brief bloom reminds me that life’s most beautiful moments are fleeting yet return each year. This blossom will vanish in a few days, a blink of the season, but it will come back next spring as faithful as hope. In its patience and generosity, I sense kinship. Like the trout lily, we too have long periods of waiting and rare moments of blooming. We also rely on small kindnesses to help us thrive—like a friend in hard times or a community that carries our dreams to fertile ground. And we are part of a larger cycle, giving and receiving, leaving something of ourselves to nurture the future. As I continue down the trail, I carry the image of that humble flower with me—a gentle assurance that even the smallest life can leave a lasting impression, and that hope will always return with the spring.

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Footnotes

  1. wildadirondacks.org Trout lily’s common names: “Trout lily” refers to the trout-like mottling on its leaves, while “dogtooth violet” refers to the tooth-like shape of its underground bulb (despite not being a true violet). It is also sometimes called “adder’s tongue.” ↩
  2. en.wikipedia.org The genus name Erythronium comes from the Greek erythros, meaning “red,” originally referring to the red-purple flowers of the European dogtooth violet (Erythronium dens-canis). The species name americanum denotes that it is native to America. ↩
  3. peacevalleynaturecenter.org Trout lilies often grow in large colonies and most individuals in a colony are non-flowering. A plant typically needs about seven years of growth before it produces its first bloom. ↩
  4. peacevalleynaturecenter.org Spring ephemeral wildflowers like the trout lily provide crucial early nectar and pollen for pollinators (bees, flies, butterflies) emerging in early spring. ↩
  5. appalachianforestnha.org The trout lily miner bee (Andrena erythronii) is a solitary bee whose life cycle is closely tied to the trout lily; it forages primarily on trout lily flowers, making it a specialist pollinator of this species. ↩
  6. wildadirondacks.org After pollination, trout lily flowers are replaced by seed capsules that ripen and split open to release the seeds in late spring. ↩
  7. atozflowers.com Erythronium americanum seeds have a small fleshy appendage called an elaiosome, which attracts ants. The ants carry the seeds to their nests, aiding in dispersal in exchange for the food reward, a mutualism known as myrmecochory. ↩
  8. pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov By growing and taking up nutrients during the brief spring season, trout lily plants help retain important nutrients (like potassium and nitrogen) in the ecosystem. When the plants die back and decay, those nutrients return to the soil, contributing to the forest’s nutrient cycle. ↩

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.

MichaelStephenWills7 Comments

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

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.

MichaelStephenWills15 Comments

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.

Capturing the moment inside Treetops

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

The Impermanence of Human Constructs and the Forces of Nature

Discover the fleeting artistry of sand castles and the mighty forces of tides sculpted by the moon’s dance. Explore the impermanent intersection of human endeavor and nature’s rhythm.

MichaelStephenWills4 Comments

 

 

Introduction


The photographs of a sand castle at Cocoa Beach, Florida, present a clear depiction of the transitory nature of human-made structures in the face of natural forces. This discourse will explore the before and after states of a sand castle through high tide, examining the interplay between human endeavors, the tides influenced by the moon’s phases, and the inevitable passage of time.

The Sand Castle: A Testament to Human Creativity


The initial photograph captures a sand castle in its pristine condition, with detailed turrets, walls, and the decorative placement of shells. This creation is a testament to human creativity, ingenuity, and the desire to imprint our presence on the natural world. Sand castles, often built by children or families, represent the joy of craftsmanship and temporary beauty.

Tides and the Moon: Celestial Influence on Earth’s Waters


Tides are long-period waves that move through the oceans in response to the gravitational pull exerted by the moon and sun. The gravitational forces of these celestial bodies generate tidal forces, which cause Earth—and its water—to bulge out on the side closest to the moon and the side directly opposite. This bulging of water results in high tides.

The moon’s phases, from new moon to full moon and back, play a crucial role in the magnitude of tides. During the full moon and new moon—times known as spring tides—the sun, moon, and Earth form a line, resulting in the combined gravitational pull of the moon and sun, causing higher than average tides. In contrast, during the first and third quarters of the moon, or neap tides, the sun and moon are at right angles to each other, which moderates the tidal effect.

The High Tide: Reclaiming and Reshaping


The second photograph shows the aftermath of a high tide on the sand castle. The rising water has eroded the structure, diminishing its form and washing away its distinct features. The tide does not discriminate in its impact; it is a natural, cyclic event that reshapes coastlines and affects human and ecological systems alike. The high tide symbolizes nature’s reclaiming of human-made imprints, demonstrating the impermanence of our works against the relentless forces of nature.

Passing Time: The Ultimate Sculptor


Time is the ultimate sculptor, working incessantly through agents like wind, water, and biological processes. The eroded sand castle in the second photograph is a reminder of the ephemeral nature of all things. The structures we build, no matter how strong or well-designed, are subject to decay and dissolution over time. The sand castle’s fleeting existence underscores the concept that time, coupled with natural forces, will eventually return human creations back to their elemental forms.

Conclusion


The before and after states of the sand castle serve as a poignant illustration of the dialogue between human endeavors and the immutable forces of nature. While the tides, governed by the moon’s gravitational pull, are predictable, their effects are a constant reminder of the transient nature of human constructs in the grand scheme of time and nature’s cycles. As we appreciate the beauty of temporary creations like sand castles, we also learn to respect the power of the natural world and the passage of time that shapes our existence.

Thayer Preserve: Autumn Still Life 2

Hemlock Roots

MichaelStephenWills3 Comments

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.

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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.

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