Good evening and welcome to Got a Happy Story. This series has moved from Friday to become a respite from the Monday blues. You can record your happy weekend stories or bring photos of family, pets or food. Please share stories from anytime or anywhere that will put a smile on people's faces.
There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval.
-George Santayana
Tonight's diary is about one of my favorite topics and doing it during the least appreciated season.
I am grateful that my always sore feet still do not win out in the debate between staying put and moving forward.
I find three truly great times for thinking thoughts are when I am standing in the shower, sitting on the john or walking. And the greatest of these, by far, is walking.
-Colin Fletcher
All paths lead to nowhere, so it is important to choose a path that has heart.
-Carlos Castaneda
When I was younger winter walks were the hardest to appreciate. The contrast between the wildflowers on the forest floor in spring, the lush greens of summer and the vivid color of autumn leaves, the winter forest once seemed like a harsh cold black and white world to me.
After many years of four season walking I have learned that between the Thanksgiving joy of kicking through the fresh fallen leaves and the wet feet of hunting down Easter wildflowers our natural surroundings still offer a fascinating world of nature.
Now that I am a little older and a bit more educated about the northeastern forest my winter walks are just as interesting as any other season. So my happy story tonight is also a guide for the novice and a reminder to the expert naturalist that the beauty of nature is a year round event.
Since there are fewer plants to identify and a less diverse bird population, winter is the prefect season for the beginning naturalist.
During the dormant season there is actually quite a bit of biological activity going on and there is an amazing event taking place in the swampy areas. Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) likes to get a jump on spring and through rapid respiration, this plant that will be the first to green the wetlands forest floor, melts the snow above to rise up into the winter sun.
And if there is no snow on the ground you may just stumble upon the four leaf clover of the late winter walker, the tiny delicate snowdrop.
Dead of winter is a misleading term. While there is far less activity to be witnessed there is much that points to the new season approaching. To enjoy a winter walk look for the many swollen buds that more closely associate with birth. The winter forest is filled with swellings.
At the forest ecotone you can find the cigar like cattails of a forest maker. Many of these have already exploded and cast their seeds across the water. Dogbane is another swollen member that can be found exploding at the forest edge. The milkweed famous for both the springtime balls of fluff and an amazing relationship with the monarch butterfly also displays a beautiful swollen ball of seeds in winter. While the milkweed occasionally cast its famous fluff prematurely for a spring preview the cattail makes a very warm and welcoming winter sight.
Are you aware that the cattail is a member of the forest forward infantry? The northeastern forest like any other ecosystem fights a never ending battle to gain new ground. Evidence of this can be seen on our city streets as we see the dried peppergrass growing up through the cracks in our sidewalks.
The cattail lives on the balance between woodlands and wetlands. Each year that the cattails live at water’s edge their root system captures sediment and creates a rich soil. The species is then uncomfortable in the environment it created so the plants move further out into the water. In its foot prints a meadow is created. Then one of the ephemeral fast growing trees like a white birch take hold and chase away the sun loving meadow plants that are replaced by shade tolerant forest plants. Some of those plants will be the more permanent trees that also enjoy having wet feet. Trees like the red oak and willow will spread more roots and create more solid land. Still others will be the patient saplings of the mighty hardwoods like oak that will accelerate growth a century later when the dying white birch that was once at the edge of the forest leaves a hole in the forest canopy.
That area where land meets water, be it field and stream or willow and swail are the most dynamic and richest in temperate climates. Those ecotones holds the widest variety of flora and feed the widest variety of fauna. The lowly cattail plays an important role in the dynamic leading to a mature forest. Here is a place in winter where forest meets lake that may have been a few cattails encroaching on standing water a hundred years ago.
Notice that the white birch trees seem to be approaching the end of their life cycle and the two pine trees that seem almost out of place have been crowded out by the more successful deciduous trees. Long ago those evergreens dominated the northeast but the introduction of broad leaves that can make better use of the sun and relationships with insects that takes so much less energy than just blanketing the world in pollen offered advantages.
The way a mighty oak stands stunted below a white birch waiting for the end of a natural life cycle, it also waited many years stunted under the shade of evergreens. Since the eastern white pine has no natural end those hardwoods waited patiently for an unnatural disaster like a bolt of lightening for a chance to take over. In the northeastern forest the broad leaved trees have waged a war against their predecessors that took many thousands of years to win. In the struggle for survival the winners gave birth to many that would never survive the dark acidic environment of the pine forest.
Winter is the only season when sunglasses come in handy in the mature hardwood northeastern forest. If you can find the now rare virgin stand of eastern white pine the winter is just as dark and mysterious as any other season.
But without the broad leaves of the dominant hickory, ash and maples of the more successful hardwood forest the blue winter sky penetrates and the dried flowers and weeds that are shrouded in darkness during the other three seasons get their moment in the sun.
The most fascinating sights in the winter forest are the ones that should never be touched. The thistle armed and dangerous is untouchable but a beauty to see in the cold. It is another pregnant plant with a 125,000 seed ball ready to fly in spring. Unfortunately that nasty creeping tickfoil stays just a hidden as always but winter is a good time of year to take a magnifying glass to a burdock and see how the plant inspired Velcro.
Winter is also the season of the fungi. Forest mushrooms can be found all year long but the colors stand out more in the winter landscape.
More than 100 mushrooms and fungi can be found and studied in the forest or city parks. Have you ever seen a Turkey tail fungus?
Some of the most striking winter weeds are the rich red brown docks and sorrels that look like Chinese lanterns in winter.
Follow a sparrow to the jewel like flowers of the Spiraea that should not be missed. For a dash of red, another favorite of winter birds, the Partridge Berry comes out of hiding because of rare natural evergreen leaves. Most winter berries are a welcome sight but look for the less welcomed invasive winter fruit Asiatic bittersweet that has become all to common. This unwelcomed Asian immigrant still offers a pretty picture.
Competing with the brown vines and dark gray rootlets of the most common native woody vine poison ivy alongside that dreaded Asiatic bittersweet the evergreens Japanese honeysuckle and English ivy can found climbing in the forest. Another invasive that does make a pretty picture and looks good against a snow backdrop is the very common hairy red branches of wineberry.
There is no reason to feel guilty about enjoying the sight of invasive species but it should be noted that the northeastern hardwood forest has changed greatly since settlers have arrived. The primitive eastern white pine was already losing in the struggle for survival against the advanced broad leaved forest even before the colonist arrived but the Royal Navy devastated our eastern pine forest to such an extent that present day scientist are not even sure if Pinus strobus or Liriodendron tulipifera represent the largest northeaster tree. Another of the great evergreen northeastern forest has been virtually wiped out by importing bug called the Woolly Adelaide. This bug has turned the Hemlock forest into almost a thing of the past. The American Elm is also virtually extinct because of a bug that probably got to the United States in imported railroad ties. And now the most beautiful shrublike tree of the eastern forest understory is in danger. A fungus suspected of being an introduced pathogen has created a blight called Dogwood Anthracnose that may just wipe out the flowering dogwood.
I don't mean to be preaching to the choir here just pointing out that we see something a little different from nature because of the white man's foot. A purist may claim that the present forest are not nature but what are you gonna do? The fact is that unlike many temperate forests in the world, when the northeast goes to sleep, earth tones were embraced before garden varieties began escaping.
Odd that in a place so green most of the year the floor of forest interior offered surprisingly little natural green in winter. Before the more competitive evergreen ground covers escaped gardens there were little more than mosses and lichens. Now when there is no snow cover two tasty newcomers, field garlic and garlic mustard can be found everywhere. They don't make a very pretty picture but the grass like field garlic and the fan shaped leaves of garlic mustard can be found everywhere now.
At the shrub level of the sun filled winter hardwood forest there are some signs of native green. In the highlands of the northeastern forest the waxy green leaves ofmountain laurel that will transform the forest into a breathtaking display of pink and white in May dominate the shrub level in winter. At lower elevations there are the occasional evergreen viburnums that have been advancing from southern forest. Dominating the lowland forest is spicebush that holds no green in winter but should be watched because in just a couple of weeks that shrub will earn another common name forest forsythia. The buds seem already ready to pop and in early March sipcebush will spray the woods with yellow. Less common but already yellow is an equally aromatic shrub. One of our native witch hazels blooms in the dead of winter.
Joining the exploding cattails swellings of a different sort reveal much about the cycle of seasons in the northeaster forest. Just like the red winged black birds that will be clinging to those cattails in spring and are presently enjoying the warm Florida weather insects must also migrate. The northern insects don’t usually go as far as birds but they too must find a different environment for winter.
Winter is the only season when you don't have to "deal" with insects but you can still find evidence of their winter homes. If ever you wanted to inspect a bee hive or the home of the paper wasp winter is the time. The ways insects spend winter are too many to count. From the simple act of burrowing underground to the fascinating four generation migration of the monarch butterfly thereis much to enjoy.
Look to the base of the common goldenrod for a sight and a story that is as fascinating as any other. On the winter stalks you can often find the winter home of several insects called "galls." These round homes are created around the larvae of next year's insects. The swelling that forms these balls are created by the plants antibodies to form tumors and those tumors will nourish the emerging insects in the springtime.
Galls of all sorts can be found on many species of plant and like the fungi usually each plant has an insect that specializes in spending winter in that plant. often times it is a symbiotic relationship and will be the same insects that will help that plant spread their seeds in the following year.
Some of the many insects who create winter homes in the oak tree leave a scar that stays with the oak tree for as long as the tree will live and it grows with each passing season. I wonder how many years have passed since this oak gall was formed?
Winter is the perfect season for escarpment walking. Anywhere that offers a chance to walk besides the treetops offers a much different view than the warmer seasons. Without the cover of leaves the deciduous trees reveal much about their cycle of reproduction. After a fresh snow fall the dried winter tulips of the largest living organism in the northeast look like snow cones. The common horse chestnut offers both a before and after view of the beautiful spring flowers. The furry balls of next year's flowers look like inverted bunches of grapes and right beside those buds are the split open chestnuts in similar clumps.
If you can't get to the tree tops there are places in winter where the tree tops will come to you. The red maple that has some red on it all year long sheds parts of its spring flowers all winter. The red high up in the forest canopy is hard to spot but looking down in the wetter areas of the forests offers a reminder of the coming spring.
The catkins of the grey birch also shed some very fertile winter fur throughout the season and evidence of this can be found when the trees hang over a frozen lake.
The contrast of the bright white birch is an uplifting sight in any season that seem to blend in better in winter.
The birch tree brings up an amazing story I heard many years ago from George Page on the PBS series Nature. As you know most of the natural compounds that have been utilized by science to enhance human life were originally designed by plants as protection from insects.
Amazing chemicals come from the world of plants like the first effective treatment for malaria and cardiac glycosides originally found in the beautiful but common foxglove. That caffeine that gets you going is an insecticide and so is the THC in cannabis that mellows some out.
Of course most of the really useful compounds come from warmer climates because up north winter is the most efficient insecticide that gives the northern herbs, shrubs and trees a vacation. But many northern plants also wage chemical warfare against their enemies. Tobacco works the hardest to protect itself and look where that got us. A species of birch represents the most amazing story of protecting themselves from hungry caterpillars.
The reason all plants don’t produce poison or bad tasting chemicals is a matter of efficiency. The more intelligent a species, the more that species will waste time. Plants are the true capitalist and never waste any time. The production of chemicals to ward off being eaten takes energy and plants often accept having some leaves eaten as long as the plant is placing all of its energy into reaching up to the sunny forest canopy.
Most species of birch are edible, most of the time. One bite from a hungry caterpillar and that birch will switch all of its energies from growth to producing toxins. Not only will that birch become poisonous but so will every birch tree that is downwind from the original tree that was attacked. That’s communication and that is amazing.
This "behavior" is far from limited to the birch tree and even more amazing is a plant’s ability to communicate not just with each other but they can also call upon insect allies.
For example, when caterpillars feed on corn, tobacco, and cotton, the beleaguered plants produce airborne chemicals that attract parasitic wasps. The chemical cries for help are quite specific, attracting only the wasps that lay their eggs in the type of caterpillar infesting the plant. "Plants are not just saying, 'Yes, I am damaged,' they are also saying specifically who is damaging them. It is such an intricate and fabulous system," says Consuelo De Moraes, an assistant professor of entomology at Pennsylvania State University.
Hey give those plants another century or so and maybe M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening won't seem so far fetched. Just one more preaching to the choir note. There is a sign outside of Jungleworld in the Bronx Zoo. That sign is a Tropical Forest Countdown sign that claims "Each minute, 150 more acres are cut and burned...and lost forever."
That's close to 2 billion acres in the past 25 years. When you consider the biodiversity, the fact that less than half the plants species have even been discovered and many that have only exists in an area of a few acres or more, then we may have already wiped out some plant with a chemical compound that may have held the secret to a cure for cancer.
Behind that sign at the exit to Jungleworld is another called "Crowding Out Nature" that calculates the human population. Coincidentally that number is up by about the same amount, almost 2 billion since jungle world opened on June 21, 1985. Then there is one more sign to read as you leave Jungleworld;
"In the end, we will conserve only what we love, we will love only what we understand, we will understand only what we are taught.
-Baba Dioum
Okay, off the soapbox, out of the tropics and back into the northeastern forest. For an interesting winter forest visual the immature beech trees offer a little warmth by retaining some leaves in the wintertime.
Many young oak trees also retain some leaves through winter but a young oak can be a mighty large tree.
Winter is the quietest of seasons and without the leaves there seems to be a different acoustic. Outside of the early morning when the wintering birds greet each other to see that everyone made it through the night, the only thing you hear is the amplified sound of your own feet crushing the snow or dead leaves. For the walker it is the most calm and serene season.
In the late afternoon you can also hear the call of the birds and see the mammals moving from from wherever they seek slim winter pickings to the place they will spend their nights.
Another advantage of winter being the brightest season in the forest is seeing deep into the woods. The only green being the occasional conifers above and the rare hearty species below offers a view of wildlife that is usually missed. In the lusher months a wild turkey or deer can be five feet away and go unnoticed but a muskrat or red fox that only register as a few shaking leaves in other seasons become a breathtaking sight in winter. The lack of "winter browse" offers an intimate look at some forest birds and mammals that are rarely seen in the warmer months.
Sometimes like the sight of a red cardinal or a blue jay in the snowy trees it is a matter of stark contrast. More often it is the sighting of really secretive birds. Have you ever seen a real live owl? You are unlikely to run into one in the daytime but they can be found in winter. Without the cover of leaves you can look up and find what seem like a swollen branch and if that branch moves, wow!
There is another viewing wildlife advantage when there is snow on the ground. Those tracks can show where the animals have been. It is sort of like vacuuming your carpets just before going out and seeing where your pets have gone in your absence.
About the most exciting sight I've ever encountered was on a February day in Harriman State Park. I was walking along a path where the Manhattan skyline could be seen in the distance and crossing that path in front of me was a bobcat. A bobcat with Manhattan for a background.
Just getting out there and walking you can see some amazing acts of nature. Since that bobcat sighting I've seen coyotes in the Bronx and even a red fox at Oyster Bay. A little further north in Harriman I often come within a few feet of deer. Sometimes when they finally notice that a human has entered their space the escape scares me worse that them.
Just two weeks ago I saw a hawk in a tree in Van Cortland Park.
Then much to my amazement instead of moving away from the hawk the squirrel went toward the raptor and began squeaking.
After the squirrel began his or her rant I noticed that other squirrels came scurrying down from their trees to join the first squirrel in a harassment campaign. I've seen hawks get ignored by squirrels in the past probably because these raptors have better sense than to attempt making off with something as ornery as a squirrel. So I assume there were already babies in some hole in that tree.
Another sign of spring that I saw last week was a bee. Maybe this is not such a good time for inspecting bee hives.
But as you know winter is the harshest season on the forest wildlife and as I wrote about last week feeding the black capped chickadees is one of my favorite winter activities.
My happy winter story is going into the parks with filled pockets. The geese of Van Cortland lake actually recognize me and come running when they see me for the popcorn in my pockets.
And my other two friends who I last saw together when I took this picture on February 10, 2008 are no longer a couple.
Now with one not making it through the winter the other seems sad and lonely. She or he no longer comes to the shore when I pass.
So if this diary reaches any novice to winter walking and you think you have to go far to view nature, except for the pine forest, every single photo in this diary was taken within twelve miles of Columbus Circle. Greetings from the Bronx.
If you've read this far, congratulations for putting up with me and thank you for sharing my passion. Now it is time for your happy story. Any happy story is welcomed but if you have the time how about offering what nature is like in your neck of the woods?
Before we get to the community happy stories I would like to dedicate this story to three men and a lady. First Nathaniel Lord Britton and Elizabeth Gertrude Knight for creating the nature study center where I spent so much of my life. Also dedicated to Colin Fletcher, a man who so romanticized wilderness that getting at least fifteen miles from the nearest automobile became a passion for me. And then there is the man I tried to imitate tonight. The world just doesn't seem as green without George Page.
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
-Thoreau
Do you have a Happy Story for tonight?