The Known and the Anomaly

The Known and the Anomaly

September 6, 2019

I went down to Cottonwood Pond in the early afternoon of that breezy, sunny day, glad that it was not a hot one. A Pewee sang its name and the buzz of cicadas emanated from the trees. Spider webs were strewn across open spaces, some sparkling in the sun.

I heard a quick rustle of leaves as a nut fell through the canopy, and a small thud as it hit the woodland floor. Did it loosen and fall from a branch, or was it dropped by a squirrel? Either way, it was a sign that the year was beginning to turn from summer toward autumn.

 Bitternuts fallen onto the bed of Cottonwood Pond

Sunlight was strong and fierce, breaking through openings in the canopy, illuminating the woodland only in intense, bright spots so dappled and distinct that the surroundings were distorted.

 The dry woodland slope

Wooded slope to the southeast

Wooded slope to the northwest

Cottonwood Pond within the light

Though the slope seemed bone-dry, the Creek was dribbling along. I could see dampness and recently formed flow patterns throughout the Cottonwood Pond area.

 The Creek before and after the Barkless Log

The “Island” forming to the downstream side of the Barkless Log

 Debris dammed between the Barkless Log and a smaller log, between the Inlet and the Creek

 Where the Seep meets the Creek – exposed muddy area riddled with animal tracks

 Exposed mud in the flow path under the Cottonwood Trunk – with tracks showing that deer had passed below the Trunk (something I do with great effort), not jumping over it

 Near Cottonwood Pond, moving water has gradually exposed the sinuous roots of two young saplings

The bed of Cottonwood Pond had no standing water, not even a little puddle, but the bottom was muddy, showing signs of a microcosm of activity.

Though it was very still at Cottonwood Pond, I saw the motion of something running toward a crawdad hole (the chimney had been swept away) and disappearing into it. I don't think it was the crawdad, but otherwise I could not see any details.

 Washed-off Crawdad hole with Raccoon track

 Raccoon tracks

Worm trails

A curious anomaly had appeared in the bed of Cottonwood Pond.

It looked as if something had been digging. But, why was it digging there? And, why were the edges of the hole squared off??

Crawdads had built soft, new little chimneys at the edge, likely the previous night, so this anomaly had to happen the day before.

These pieces of roots had fallen from the Root Ball some time ago. Over time, they have been sculpted by rushing water and were gradually being buried in the mud.

The Root Ball, which had started as a full semi-circle, had lost soil over the years due to the actions of weather (mostly rain) and gravity, dropping its soil to the soggy ground below and exposing more of its roots. The Cottonwood had become a world of transition between old and new life, its old roots crumbling, but yielding to and supporting new tree saplings.

 The Root Ball, seen from the north, showing the Mud pile and the bed of Cottonwood Pond

The Root Ball Top, seen from the north, showing the Root Ball Top, the Cottonwood Trunk, and the bed of "little pond"

 Large roots exposed where the Root Ball Bottom meets the Mud Pile below

 A long root exposed on the Root Ball Top

Earlier this year, one of the saplings at the north edge of the Root Ball lost its footing as more soil eroded from around its roots, then the whole sapling tipped over across the nearby Isthmus.

I wonder at the fate of the other saplings growing from the Root Ball. They grow from side edges, the top edge, and even from the base of the Trunk, and along the top of the Trunk. Some are larger than the fallen sapling.

Will they all tip over before maturity, sliding to the floor below, or will some experience the fortune of maintaining a strong foundation of soil beneath them, and continue to grow fairly straight?

Meanwhile, critters had been chewing away at old wood in the area, looking for food, or making burrows for shelter or egg-laying, and creating sediment for new soil.

And, critters have been chewing at leaves all summer, feeding themselves and hastening the demise of the leaves, which would someday fall and also become soil.

 Wood Nettles

 Boxelder

The stiff leaves of Hackberry trees were also quite chewed up, but I noticed groups of new, supple, bright green leaves at the ends of branches.

All of this activity, all of this cycling of Life, continued to support new growth, even at this seasonal tipping point.

 Blue Mistflower

Orange Jewelweed in bloom on top of the Mud Pile

Orange Jewelweed in the bottoms area near Cottonwood Pond

Tribbles on the Cottonwood Trunk?

Nope - a slime mold called Comatricha typhoides

Virginia Smartweed

The same pretty shelf mushroom I showed in the previous blog post, but now showing deterioration

I may never know the answer to how the strange anomaly on the bed of Cottonwood Pond was created. But, I will always observe, seek answers to my questions, and learn more along the way. And, the more one learns, the more questions one has.

Hunting Turkeys (and finding other things)

Hunting Turkeys

(and finding other things)

August 22, 2019

I was sitting on the screened porch on that very wet day, listening to water dripping and birds communicating, and watching how the rain glistened on leaves out front, when I heard a ruckus. The dogs barked – a kind of bark they bark when they are really unsure of something. I heard a sound that was vaguely like the honking of the geese I heard a few minutes before, flying over our field, but it was different from that. And, geese don't land in the woods, which is where I heard this sound.

I ran over to the edge of the woods in time to hear another ruckus (which my sudden presence probably caused) – more of those sounds that were like a guttural sort of honking, plus the sound of air being lifted and moved, and a strong rustling of woodland vegetation.

I also got there in time to see a good number of large wings lifting large, brown bodies from the floor of the woodland slope, up into the trees above Cottonwood Pond. I saw the backs of all of these beings and recognized them as … Wild Turkeys.

Some years ago, for a couple of years, we had seen many Wild Turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo) at our place and in our area. Hens would be running across the road, tiny, fluffy babies running with them. Later, Hens would be strolling down the road past our place with a group of gangly teenage Turkeys strutting along. A huge flock, including a couple of tom Turkeys, would appear under our windows, or strut across the back yard in a long line to disappear one at a time into the woods, somehow aware that I was looking out a small, high window far away. Of course, we'd also hear them gobbling in the distance.

Then, we never saw them anymore, and rarely heard one. I assume that hunters had managed to keep the population in check.

So, I was surprised and pleased to know that a great number of them were here – in our woods. The ruckus I first heard must have been part of the flock taking off into the trees, and then I saw another part of the flock do the same. I ran into the house to get my camera. I was going Turkey hunting – not just for them, but for the tracks that their large feet surely left in the soil of the almost-bare woodland slope, or in mud further down.

We had lot of rain – things were really flowing and muddy down there at Cottonwood Pond!

As I worked my way down the slope, slowly, I looked up into the trees now and then. I had seen where the Turkeys had gone. I really had!! But, I saw not one big brown body up there. No big big brown spots in the canopy. As I moved down, I still heard them – that movement of air being lifted by a rush of large wings. They were shifting to trees farther across, away from me. I heard some of their voices, too.

Sometimes I did look down, to see lichen, or insect-eaten tree leaves.

And, I kept looking for Turkey tracks on the slope soil. Surely, I couldn't miss them. They are large, three-toed, and very distinctive. Surely, they would have made a strong impression, after pushing those large bodies off the ground.

I walked all over that slope – to the left and right, back up, then down. Not a single Turkey track. 

I could still hear them shifting around in the canopy, gradually moving toward the other side of the woods. I peered into the canopy above me – no Turkeys. I might have thought I was hearing Turkey ghosts, if I hadn't seen them take off earlier.

Almost to the Creek, at the bottom of the slope, I looked down to find an “ant city” - and part of it looked like a silly face.

At the bottom, I found the full, swiftly flowing Creek, and could see where it had overflowed its banks earlier, in the midst of the heavy rain.

And, I heard those rustlings again. And I looked up again – but, I could I see no Turkeys up there.

At some point, I looked up to the canopy at the other side of the woods, up the other slope, and I caught, ever so briefly, a glimpse of a Turkey flying through a blank spot of sky between trees. Yes, they were there!

Over the Creek, I got to the side of the swollen Cottonwood Pond.

Looking north, toward the Isthmus

Looking southeast, across Cottonwood Pond to the Inlet

Some exposed mud on the banks of the pond was riddled with markings. Some looked to be tiny bird tracks. But, nothing as large and heavy as a Turkey.

The wetness had brought mushrooms forth.

On top of the Mud Pile, below the Root Ball Bottom

The Wood Nettles were showing plenty of signs of having fed small creatures during the middle of summer.

On the other side of the Root Ball, I saw “little pond” also full, with fragments of bark from the Cottonwood Trunk pushed further then before.

And, an old limb had broken and fallen on to the Root Ball – complete with a woodpecker hole.

On the other side, I looked at the worn-down Root Ball bottom side, with a very large, broken root sticking out. Was this part of the tree's tap root? It took a long time and lots of erosion to expose this. Below, the Mud Pile had been pounded down by rain and was somewhat smooth – and it was sporting a pretty set of umbrella-like mushrooms.

How the Root Ball had changed over the years! It had become much thinner while supporting saplings that were growing in height and girth.

Another interesting mushroom, attached to the base of the Barkless Log, was glistening with rainwater.

There were also Turkey Tail mushrooms in the area, resembling the real Turkey tails I had seen earlier.

Blue Mistflower was in full bloom next to Cottonwood Pond …

… while Jewelweed and other plants had brightened with the rain.

 Small animal tracks and worm trails in the mud next to the Creek

Flow path to the Inlet

 A plant-i-ful area at the upper part of the Barkless Log, just to the side of the Inlet

A Trumpet Creeper plant starting out in the middle of the Swampy Spot.

I looked up to check the canopy again for Wild Turkeys. Nope – still didn't see any!

But, I could look back down to find another interesting mushroom …

… and then back up to watch a squirrel climbing a Sugar Maple.

Can you see it?

I wonder how aware it was of the Turkeys, and if it could spot their whereabouts better than I could.

I climbed further up the back slope, past that Sugar Maple, to see if I could spot them. Though I heard a bit of Turkey voice, it was very quiet up there.

More mushrooms close to the ground, on dead wood …

… some of that dead wood being parts of limbs broken from the fallen Cottonwood – the top of the same tree that formed Cottonwood Pond. The top had lodged between the twin trunks of a Red Oak.

At the wide top of the slope, I continued to survey the canopy, but to no avail.

But, there were more mushrooms!

A jelly fungus

A coral fungus

And there were other interesting things close to the ground.

 Moss, with sporophylls

Part of walnut shell, exhibiting a face-like design (somewhat like the ant colony, earlier)

I worked my way back down the slope, back to Cottonwood Pond.

The Creek upstream

 The bottom area to the east/southeast of Cottonwood Pond

The place was full of mysteries, such as …

The “Elf Walking Stick” …

… and, who made these holes? …

… and, what kinds of mushrooms are these? ...

… and … where in the heck did those Turkeys go? Why can't I see them? I knew they were there!

Ah, well, it is good to have mysteries. I love that wildlife, even large animals, even a whole herd or flock, can hide so well from us.

If I had time (the phrase of the year, it seemed), I would have stayed in the woods, quietly, in one place, waiting, watching … and then I'm sure the Turkeys would have forgotten about me and reappeared, carefully. In the meantime, I could still find plenty of mushrooms and mosses below.

And, I could add Wild Turkeys to my list of species found at Cottonwood Pond.

Oh, by the way …  

https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/wild-turkey

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/wild_turkey/id