Cottonwood Pond: In the Middle

In the Middle

September 22, 2015

Mid- morning of the Autumnal Equinox

It started out somewhat cold in the early morning, a fresh taste of Autumn. It was a clear, sunny day that warmed by mid-morning, but remained pleasantly cool. The open, sunny area were filled with yellow blossoms of Goldenrod and wild Sunflowers, while small grasshoppers jumped ahead of my steps in the grassy places.

At the edge of the woods were fluffy white flower head of White Snakeroot,

deep inky purple fruit of Pokeberry,

and dull-green seed stalks of Common Ragweed, thankfully beyond its pollen-ridden stage.

To the sounds of crickets and birds, I made my way down the sparsely vegetated, shady slope. I saw ahead an expanse of green with orange dots. The expanse was so thick that I couldn't see the Pond below the Root Ball.

Spotted (Orange) Jewelweed was in full bloom.

Often, an area full of Jewelweed is also active with the Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds that love them, but it was still too cool in mid-morning.

The Jewelweed seed pods were still green, but some were just swollen enough with seed to pop open with a little provocation. I heard the tiniest, faintest snapping sounds as I brushed through the Jewelweed grove.

I am sure the very slim, carefully placed bill of a hovering Hummingbird would not set off the pods, but a fully-grown Grasshopper landing on a leaf might set off a chain reaction.

There was no water in the Creek.

It was just mud. A long, practically rain-less period had allowed vegetation to fill the edges and fallen leaves to begin filling the Creek bed.

A stunted Great Blue Lobelia plant at Creek edge

Likewise, there was no water in the Seep, not trickling down the line nor over the Bark Ledge to the Creek.

I stepped into (or onto) the Creek bed and made a careful path through the Wood Nettles and Jewelweed on the other side, to Cottonwood Pond.

Seed head of Wood Nettle

There it was – Cottonwood Mud Hole.

Looking southeast

I have written about Cottonwood Mud Hole one other time, but this time it was dry enough to have mud cracks.

I did something I had never done before at Cottonwood Pond. I walked in and stood in the deepest part...

… and so did Silas.

For the first time, I left a shoe print in the middle of Cottonwood Pond.

This was maybe not as significant as Neil Armstrong's first boot print in the dust of our Moon. But, still significant. There had never been a human footprint here before.

This was the spot over which, in the water-filled past, I had to hover the pole of my Handy-Dandy Homemade Depth-Measuring Device, while I teetered on the Pond edge, to lower the rock-weighted twine so I could find out how deep this spot was at that time. I would say that this day it would measure about, oh, say zero (0).

I thought of all the wriggling, skittering, squirming, tumbling, back-swimming, diving creatures I had seen in this place since I started observing over two years ago. I thought of the Frogs that had jumped under the water and disappeared into the loose mud of the bottom. I thought of the Raccoons leaving prints at the muddy edges while they dipped their fore-paws in the water, searching for morsels.

Where were they? It was another thing to learn – where water-dependent creatures go when the water disappears.

From this rare vantage point (for me), I could finally see the environs of Cottonwood Pond the way creatures in the Pond would see them. Almost.

Though the Inlet space had enlarged considerably over time, it still wasn't large enough for even a small human to shimmy through. But, now I could crouch down and see through for myself.

Raccoon print in hole under log

And, I could get a closer look at the Cove:

Close ...

... closer ...

... and through!

I finally could see the same view of the other side as Frogs, Raccoons and perhaps Opossums, and who knows what else. It was a “window to another world.” I believe that a new way of seeing something IS another world because each new view expands our perceptions.

I stood and looked to the top edge of the Root Ball to see it studded with orange Jewelweed blossoms. I would love to see Hummingbirds up there.

Investigating the face of the Root Ball Bottom, I found,

the claw-like root still holding on to a dirt ball,

spider webs,

and a new vine, which was probably Poison Ivy.

I was able to walk through the “Pond” to the north end, past Mud Pile #1, and toward the
Seep corner, Isthmus and the Two-Trunk White Ash ...

Approaching the Isthmus

… and on around to “little pond” ...

... which Silas and I found to be as dry/muddy as the main “Pond.”

Past the dead grasses at the edge of “little pond” to the Cottonwood Trunk,

I paused in the middle of “little pond” to view the canopy from this new spot, in the glow of an Autumn Equinox morning.

Blue Beech and Sugar Maple saplings on top edge of Root Ball

Looking down again, at on the other side of the Trunk at its base, I saw the other side of the Cove.

Early change – leaves of Bent Blue Beech

I turned to look up the Trunk.

Cottonwood Trunk – at far end, at the top of the slope, it is wedged in the crook of a Two-Trunk Red Oak

So much bark had fallen from the Trunk over time.

The disintegration of the fallen bark was obvious. Instead of large, furrowed sections, the “furrows” had become individual, loose pieces.

Silas and I went under the fallen Trunk to the other side.

Looking toward the Root Ball and upper limb of the Barkless Log

The Sharp-Winged Monkey Flower plants (formerly known as “Mystery Plants in the Swampy Spot”) bore dry seed capsules in the leaf axils. Gone were the lavender flowers with monkey faces.

Like the Creek and Seep, the Temporary Creek was barely discernible.

Low wet area to southeast of Inlet, where water from Temporary Creek usually flows

View from southeast of Cottonwood Pond, including the Barkless Log (below), Bent Blue Beech and Young White Ash

The Inlet from the southeast, with a Daddy Long-Legs on the Barkless Log. The log also has claw scratch marks and spots of Lichen

And then I did another thing I had never done before:

I stepped over the Barkless Log into the “Pond” …

… and sat on the long for awhile, my feet dangling in the “water.”

I have often mentioned that the Very Rotten Log is more rotten the farther it is from the Creek, and that the part of it extending to the other side of the Barkless Log (to the left in the photo below) practically disappears into the soggy soil.

Sitting in my unusual spot, I could easily see the decaying of the Bent Blue Beech.

How long will it be before it breaks and collapses to the Pond, and what changes will that bring? There are live branches from the decaying trunk, though, pointing upward as a signal of continuation.

I had come full circle.

I again stood in the middle of the main “Pond”, in the deepest part, and took in the view all around, from this new vantage point, from north to southeast.

I have no doubt that I can experience this view time and again. We may well have a “fall drought”, and there will be other years with long, dry periods. But, the scenery will change around it, the mud will become more deeply covered in fallen leaves, and flowers will fade. There will be no more sculpting of the Inlet, Cove, pond edges, Seep and Creek until we have a significant rain, or a big snow melt.

From the Middle, during equal hours of night and day, teetering in a season of transition …

Cottonwood Pond.