Bold New Year

Bold New Year

January 3, 2017

From a distance, from the top edge of the woods, Cottonwood Pond, and its fallen Cottonwood tree, look so small, almost insignificant. But, it actually plays a significant role in the woods, and it has obviously been playing a significant role in my life. Never underestimate the small things - they are often mighty.

Here it is, a fresh start. I want to take bold new steps this year with Cottonwood Pond. I want to explore so much more about its significance, how it relates to everything else - because, it's true that everything is connected. I want to know all the ways that Cottonwood Pond is connected, not to just its environs, or to my little woodland, but much further than those. As far as possible.

There's the muddy, hairy-headed monster in the middle of the lowland area. It didn't always have this funny face - that developed over time as various changes happened, various forces acted upon the Root Ball, the pond, and everything there. Someday, this funny face will fade away, and who knows what appearance it will have then. 

There is much to learn, much yet to find. 

I'm going to have a very busy year, with a number of things. In fact, January already started out with a busy bang. It will be a challenge to pace myself through it all, and through whatever unexpected things pop up among it all, as they always do in Life. 

Despite that, I want to dive into a deeper study of Cottonwood Pond. Here are some of the things I'd love to accomplish:

- Discover, identify and keep a good list of everything I find in and around there.

- Learn as much as I can about everything I find.

- Take periodic, regular samples of pond water and mud to find out what is living there.

- Observe, measure and learn more about the water quality (temperature, turbidity, pH, etc.) as well as learning more about the action of the water.

- Do a study concerning bottom lands, ponds, pools, sloughs, etc. Maybe I'll be able to figure out just how to classify this place. Certain animal species, if found, would help determine this.

- Set up a brief journal of happenings and observations, from the beginning (which means going through all of my blog posts, notes and photos)

- Find my earliest photos of Cottonwood Pond (I think they are on my external hard drive - I hope!!) and compare them to this year. Study the changes since then and do at least one blog post about that, with side-by-side then-and-now photos.

- Spend more still, quiet time down there during various seasons, conditions and times of day, just observing, and from various observation posts. 

- Get one of those video cameras that I can hide nearby, so I can find out what happens there at night, or at other times when I'm not there. 

- Be philosophical, at least now and then.

As I mentioned, it's not just about Cottonwood Pond itself. I know that whatever I learn there will enhance anything else I do, particularly anything in the realm of nature education. It will enhance my writing projects, which also serve as education. I hope to expand writing projects in the not-too-distant future. What I learn there will enhance the nature walks and programs that I offer for others, helping me to be even more effective, helping others understand the connections between everything in Nature, with themselves and Nature, with ourselves and the universe (a tall order, but it's a big part of what I do.)

And it will help me with navigating through my own life and all the strange new things that could come up - and just this strange new world we've come into. Nature always does help with that.

Cottonwood Pond has served as a microcosm, as well as a springboard, for all of my study, awareness, and education. It will continue to do so, hopefully even more so.

Thank you for sharing this adventure with me. Here we go ...

... smiling. :)

After the Storm

After the Storm

December 29, 2016

I am, of course, not down in the bottom of my woods during a storm. I have been at Cottonwood Pond during steady rains, but never during a storm. If lightening or heavy winds would ensue, scrambling up the slippery slope to get back to shelter would be rather problematic, so I have not taken that chance.

So, normally I see the effects of a recent storm and visualize what happened during the event.

Heavy rains (or heavy snow melt) and rushing water have the strongest influence on Cottonwood Pond.

Sometimes it has an immediate effect, such as carving out a new channel, thus redirecting water flow at that time as well as in the future. This, in turn, creates more changes in other aspects.

Creek water, coming from the right and rushing up against a natural "dam" in the Creek

During a deluge, water rushes down the main channel of the Creek, but here an excess has pushed over the bank, even slightly up the slope, creating new channels that will be carved more deeply if there are more heavy rains.

  

Sometimes it makes a change, but the influence of that change does not manifest until a later time. For example, heavy rains can loosen dirt on the Cottonwood root ball, but maybe the dirt falls off after the pull of gravity works on it gradually, over time.

Over several years, much dirt has fallen from the Root Ball, creating Mud Piles below, at the edge of the pond.

Side view of the thinning Root Ball

Near the end of 2016, strong water flow left signs here and there, telling me the story of what it was doing while I slept.

Bare places above the edge of the Creek show where strong water flow had pushed over the banks, sometimes exposing Crawdad holes

Bare spots above the Creek's edge show where water had cut over during strong flow

During heavy flow times, water fills up "little pond" on the other side of the Root Ball. The overflow goes in two directions: to the left at the base of the back slope, flowing toward Temporary Creek #2, and over the Isthmus (these photos) where it flows into the main pond (bottom of left photo.) Bare spots show where water was rushing through.

 

Excess water in the main pond then flows through the Seep. This view is from the pond corner, looking toward the Creek, where the Seep ends. The path of recent water is evident.

Temporary Creek #1, which flows toward Cottonwood Pond from the ESE, with more water than usual, showing that much water had flowed down the slopes to this gathering area.

The Swampy Spot was indeed "swampy", filled by Temporary Creek #1. This very low spot acts as another holding area for water until this overflows.

The water had been very busy, leaving evidence of its flow from the Swampy Spot to Cottonwood Pond. Here, a line can be seen coming from the Swampy Spot (just below the slope.)

Another view of the flow line from the Swampy Spot, this time with Inlet to the pond seen in the upper right.

Flow line headed toward the Inlet

Now looking from the Swampy Spot toward the Inlet - evidence where water had pushed away leaves on its rush toward the pond.

Normally, heavy water flow causes turbidity in the pond, churning up the fine sediment and bringing in more sediment and particles from elsewhere, clouding the water. But, this time around there had been enough time for things to settle before I got down there. Though there was a little turbidity left in the spots that experienced heaviest water flow, the water was fairly clear.

Looking through the Cove at the base of the Root Ball - clear water reflecting blue sky.

Water in the main pond

Something very notable was the lack of tannin stain, or the great decrease of it. A little over a month previous, the water had looked more like Sassafras tea. By late December, silt had settled and leaves were all brown, and the bottom had become greenish-brown. What had happened to the tannin? There is so much to learn!

The main pond, seen from the south, over the Inlet

Water in "little pond", reflecting the sky and canopy

The Inlet, full of clear water, as seen from across the main pond

Overall, the woodland was almost completely bare, compared to a month before. It seemed empty of color, mainly shades of brown and gray, and was fairly empty of sound. It was more like an ancient, silent cathedral, pillars casting rows of shadows on the brown floor. Like a cold, empty cathedral, the air on December 29 was brisk, a tiny bit of ice evident at the edges of water. The cold likely was causing birds and other wildlife to stay safe and warm in burrows, tunnels, tree holes and other nests.

The top leaf layer of the woods floor was dry, but more flattened, not as fluffy as it was in November. Some were pressed very flat by the weight of water from the recent storm. Leaves were more uniform in color. Lower layers were breaking down, allowing leaves on top to settle in. 

Leaves in the water were flattened and grayish-brown, also, and covered with a fine layer of silt.

Corner of "little pond" showing a slight amount of ice among wet leaves

Water and leaves in the Swampy Spot

A breeze gently rippled the surface of Cottonwood Pond, sending sparkling reflections onto the Root Ball.

The year was ending in quietude at Cottonwood Pond, thus far.

"little pond"

Main pond, seen from the north

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 Philosophy for a Bold New Year

We are entering a bold new year. By “bold” I mean that those of us who are very concerned about the state of our country and its future find that we must work hard. We must do the positive things that we do even more than before – stronger, with more resilience, more fortitude – to help make things better. Once in awhile, the silt settles. But the force of rushing water creates more turbulence. That force needs to be positive, though, reshaping the “landscape” in such a way that creates changes that will help everyone, not just a privileged, select few. And when that force happens to be negative, we need to do what we can to work with the effects of it, to create something better.

When there is turbulence, we need to be able to be calm enough to let the sediment settle so that we can see clearly through.

Being in the midst of Nature, being aware, observant and contemplative, we learn what we need to carry on, and we build up the calm and inner strength to do so.

Black Walnuts from last autumn, in the Creek

One of last summer's Wood Nettle plants, in a spot of sunlight

Moss on a log, with red sporophylls (the next generation)

Cycling Through

Cycling Through

November 30, 2016

On a soggy, sunny, brisk day (but not very cold), I ventured into the woods toward Cottonwood Pond. With the trees mostly bare, the sunlight could easily penetrate the woods, striping the brown floor with tree shadows.

 East-facing slope, and Creek, looking ESE

Some trees, especially Oaks and Maples, were still hanging onto their golden, bronze and maroon leaves. There was a slight breeze overhead, rustling those that remained. Other than that, and an occasional bird peep, the woods was quiet and calm.

Sugar Maples

Elderberry

Blue Beech

That day, during my exploration of Cottonwood Pond and its environs, I thought about how much that spot had to do with trees. Cottonwood Pond was created by a large Cottonwood tree falling in the woodland bottoms. Leaves that fall into the pond and on the ground perpetuate the cycle of nutrients as well as continue the parade of change. The Cottonwood Trunk and other fallen trees rot. New life springs from the old trees and the layers and layers of leaves they have dropped, which all become soil. Creatures visible and too tiny to see depend on those for nourishment and shelter, then their own bodies become part of the cycle, feeding others. From the topmost twig of the tallest tree to the deepest layer of loamy soil, trees are a substantial part of Life in and around Cottonwood Pond.

Trees fallen over Creek

Huckleberry tree on left, young tree on right strangled by invasive vine, probably Oriental Bittersweet

Dead branches of Asian Bush Honeysuckle that I had cut from next to Cottonwood Pond

By the end of November there was a very thick layer of leaves on the ground. They had been falling recently enough that the top layer was still dry and fluffy, the leaves still distinct in form and shape. Most were brown, but some still carried remnants of their autumn color.

White Oak

Red Oak leaf - holes possibly made by a female oak shothole leaf miner, when the leaf was green

Sugar Maple

A leaf collection - can you identify all of them?

Sycamore leaf caught mid-fall by a sapling

The largest Sycamore leaf I had ever found, to date

,

Water and Leaves.

There was plenty of water. The Creek was flowing lightly but steadily, leaves still piling up in the stream and on the banks.

Edge of Creek, with Crawdad hole

Where the Seep meets the Creek - the Bark Shelf at the meeting point is covered with leaves and not visible

Water had flowed down the slopes, collecting at the bottom, then down to Cottonwood Pond, bringing tannin and nutrients with it from decaying leaves.

From the Temporary Creek at the base of the slope ...

 ... emptying into the Swampy Spot ...

... from the Swampy Spot to the Inlet ...

... and through the Inlet into the pond.

As water collected in the pond, it was stained with tannin, like steeped tea. Maybe Rooibos tea. Or, something between Sassafras and black tea.

An interesting study to consider doing in the future would be testing the pH level of the main pond water throughout the year. I am pretty sure that it would be at its lowest this time of year, but that remains to be determined. Also, I would like to learn more about the cycle and changes in nutrients from this stage to late spring and beyond – how this affects what thrives in the pond.

As you can see, there were still leaves falling onto the water, mainly Oaks, which are more reluctant to loosen from their twigs.

 North pond corner and Isthmus

"little pond"

Glimmer of water seen through the Cove on the bottom side of the Root Ball

Looking down the Trunk to the Cove on the top side of the Root Ball - a glimmer of water visible again

The rotting wood and bark of the fallen Cottonwood Trunk and other nearby logs served as a basis for other Life to flourish.

Moss on Cottonwood bark, with sporophylls

Moss and very tiny mushrooms

Purple jelly fungus on the Barkless Log!

There were also signs of potential new Life:

Plant rootlets on the Cottonwood Trunk, originally under the bark

Dried fruit/seeds collected on top of the Trunk – could have been left from animal scat

Seeds of Tulip Poplar on the Cottonwood Trunk

Dying trees do sometimes give rise to new trees …

 The Bent Blue Beech over the south end of Cottonwood is dead, broken and growing fungi, but leafy saplings grow from its lower trunk

 An unusual three-branched Blue Beech sapling grows from the Root Ball Top, one branch stretching along the Cottonwood Trunk while the other two stretch upward, growing leaves 

 Sugar Maple and White Ash saplings have been growing from the top edge of the Root Ball

… and other saplings rise from the woods floor nearby, possibly started from seeds that found hospitable spots for germination and growth.

 Boxelder saplings are scattered throughout the wet bottom land, as they do not mind having “wet feet”

A young Red Oak  sports large leaves and deep fall color on a drier slope nearby

Besides young trees, the rich loamy, leafy layers were already nurturing young green, herbaceous plants.

Honewort

 Possibly Wild Chervil or Sweet Cicely

Young plants growing in the Swampy Spot

Meanwhile, another potential generation of plants was waiting to release from parent plants and land in the right places to take root and repopulate the forest floor around Cottonwood Pond.

Small white Aster, species not yet determined, next to Cottonwood Pond 

 Between Cottonwood Pond and the Creek, the fluffy seeds of another small-flowered White Aster wait for wind to release and float them to new locations

Thin, slender stalks of Jumpseed, with tiny knobs of seed, gracefully bend over the edge of Cottonwood Pond

Bonus photo:

These 2 saplings are growing on the slope above Cottonwood Pond – the one I usually descend. They strike me as looking like two old friends happy to see each other after a long absence.