Best and Worst

I thought I’d write a little bit about the best and worst aspects of spring in New Hampshire. I’ll start with the worst.

A sign of Mud Season

A synonym for spring here is “mud season.” This is really only a problem on unpaved roads, but since I live on one of those, it’s a reality I have to deal with if I want to go anywhere. Some places are worse than others, so during mud season, I do alter my normal route to maximize the pavement. Even if it minimizes the scenery.

The other unpleasant aspect of spring is this:

Black Fly, defender of the North Woods

They are not swarming yet, but I saw several dozen of these nasty boogers in my woods today. Pretty soon several dozen will become millions. Between the black flies and the mud, I’d just as soon that winter give spring a miss and go straight to summer.

But as I said, it’s not all bad. I went for a couple of short hikes today. On the way home from dropping Beth off at school, I stopped at the Quentin Forest. I saw several of these aerial roots suspended in midair.

Aerial roots?

I’ve never seen these before. I’m not 100% positive, but I think these are highbush blueberry. My first thought was that it was hobblebush, since that plant has the habit of growing new roots on branch tips (like this), lower the new roots to the ground, and then they take hold. This creates branches that are rooted at both ends forming a loop. Horse would sometimes trip on these, from whence the “hobblebush” name comes.

But hobblebush belongs to the viburnums, and viburnums have opposite branches. These were all alternate. Everything else about the plant said highbush blueberry. I really ought to look it up to see if they do this.

Update! This is apparently a manifestation of Witches’ broom (Pucciniastrum goeppertianum), a fungus that does indeed infect blueberries. The cure is to remove all the fir trees within 500 feet and kill the blueberries with an herbicide. Infected plants will not produce fruit, so I suppose that might be warranted in a cultivated blueberry patch.

On the way out of the forest, I spotted a pile:

Moose scat

My best guess is that this was left by a moose. It’s the right size and shape, and it was near a boggy area. Perfect moose habitat.

When I got home I took a lap around my own woods. The trailing arbutus is working on its flowers, but they’re not ready for delivery just yet.

Trailing Arbutus (Epigaea repens)

Then I decided to take Penny down to Sandogardy Pond. I haven’t been there for a couple of weeks, and as soon as I spoke the word “Sandogardy” Penny’s ears perked up and she was doing her little “Take me! Take me!” dance.

They were grading our road. The mud will be tolerable. Right in front of the dump truck, I found a small stand of coltsfoot.

Coltsfoot (Tussilago farfara)

When I got to the pond, I found that the patch of garlic mustard I “wiped out” last month came back.

Garlic Mustard

I was not surprised. I picked a bunch and ate one leaf. I left the ones I harvested on the ground. A little garlic mustard goes a long way.

I wandered along the creek looking for wet-loving plants. I knew that false hellebore and jack-in-the-pulpit grows here, but I was hoping to find some skunk cabbage. I didn’t find any skunk cabbage, and I didn’t find any jack-in-the-pulpit, but I did find some false hellebore coming in:

False Hellebore (Veratrum viride)

This stuff looks so luscious. Every time I see it, I just want to pop huge swaths of it into my mouth. But that would be a huge mistake. This stuff is incredibly poisonous. Luckily, the problem would pretty much take care of itself, as the result of eating it is an uncontrollable urge to purge. Success in controlling this urge will result in death. Native Americans would sometimes use this knowledge in selecting a new chief. Everyone who wanted the position would be required to eat some. Last one to barf is the new chief. Unless he died before assuming the new role. And some people think the Electoral College is a bad method of leader selection.

On the way back to the house I saw a patch of partridge berry (Mitchella repens). This one had an odd berry:

An odd partridge berry

Partridge berries produce two flowers which are joined at the base. The two flowers form a single berry, and a normal one has two “eyes” on it which are remnants of the dual-flower:

“Normal” partridge berry

I’ve never seen one that didn’t quite fuse properly. These berries were on the vine all through the winter. Wintergreen is another plant that will hold its fruit beneath the snow all winter and still be palatable in the spring. I did eat a few partridge berries. I really like them as the have a subtle flavor. I think I could eat a quart of them.

So as you can see, the good really does overpower the bad in a New Hampshire Spring. I should really not complain.

But sometimes complaining is fun.

 

Hobblebush

I stopped at the spring in Canterbury on my route home today so I could get some pictures of the hobblebush while it is still in bloom.

Hobblebush (Viburnum lantanoides)

When the branches of this species of viburnum droop down and touch the ground, the branch takes root at that point. This creates loops of branches rooted at both ends. If you (or a horse) are walking through a thicket of this stuff, it would be pretty easy to trip on these loops. Thus the name “hobble bush”. The large, showy flowers along the outside are sterile. The fertile flowers are those smaller ones in the center.

Canterbury Spring (which is what I call it – I have no idea if it has some other name) is a pretty cool place. There’s a pipe coming out of the side of the hill where there is an artesian spring. People stop here to fill up jugs of drinking water all the time. It’s some really good-tasting water. I’d estimate that I see someone doing that at least twice a week, which is roughly one trip in five past this spot.

Canterbury Spring

In fact, someone was there filling a five gallon jug when I got there, but since I was there for the hobblebush and not the water (this time), I pulled in right behind her. She was curious about what I was doing so I told her about the hobblebush. It’s only in bloom for maybe two weeks, so you’ve got to look at these when you’ve got the chance.

When I got home I decided to see if I could get a better photo of the gaywings (Polygala paucifolia) from yesterday. As I figured, there were a lot more of them open today as compared to yesterday, so I wasn’t limited by slim pickin’s. I liked this shot because I get two plants in the same shot. The gaywings are showing off for the Canada mayflower (Maianthemum canadense) which will probably bloom this weekend. Or maybe later next week, I’m not sure.

Gaywings (P. paucifolia) and Canada mayflower (Maianthemum canadense)

Here’s a solo shot for the gaywings:

P. paucifolia

These always make me think of an airplane, complete with wings, fuselage, and propeller.

 

False Hellebore

The mystery plant from yesterday turned out to be False Hellebore (Veratrum viride). This one has been in my Unidentified file for a couple of years now, so it’s good to finally know what it is.

Veratrum viride

It also turns out to be a pretty interesting plant! First, it is highly toxic, so it’s a good thing I didn’t decide it was close enough to cabbage that I could eat it (I would never eat an unknown plant though, and I highly recommend that no one else do that either). It usually causes vomiting, but if it doesn’t, it will be fatal. Some Native Americans used to have potential chiefs eat the root (which contains the highest concentration of the toxin), and which ever one was last to vomit – he got to be the new chief! I wonder if they ever accidentally killed their two best men with that approach.

I took a walk through my woods again today. I was surprised to find these:

Gaywings (Polygala paucifolia)

I like these plants. Once those blooms open for business, they look like a little airplane, with a fuselage, propeller, and wings (thus the common name, I suppose). I’ll look for them again tomorrow to see if they’re open. This is another species that has bloomed two weeks early. Last year they bloomed on May 4.

Around 1:00 I headed over to the church. We had planned a closet clean-out for today. I set up the canopy I scored in December. I had help setting it up this time, and between forgetting the instructions at home, and having almost two sets of all the steel parts, it took a while to figure out how it went back together. A bit over two hours in fact. And that was in 70 degree, sunshiny weather (unlike the blizzard I fought when I took it down).

On the way there I stopped and took several shots of the hobblebush again. I’m still not happy with any of my pictures of this plant. Here’s the best from today, featuring some sort of insect I have not yet attempted to identify:

Hobblebush (Viburnum lantanoides) blossoms

I might need to talk to my friend Paul about what I can do to get a better shot. Maybe I just need to bring the tripod along, I dunno.

 

Tamworth

Today after work I drove up to Tamworth, NH to deliver the fruit I had forgotten to deliver on Sunday. It was kinduva long drive, but the weather was gorgeous, and the mountains were beautiful. I noted some hobblebush (Viburnum lantanoides) in bloom, but I was kinda looking for it.

Last week one of my co-workers was asking about a bush he had seen in the woods near his house. He drew a picture of it on his whiteboard, and my first thought was “hobblebush” – but I dismissed that. It doesn’t bloom in April. Except that it did this year. Four weeks early as compared to my previous observations. I asked him to bring in a sample, and he did today. It was hobblebush all right.

Some hobblebush grows near the spring in Canterbury where I fill my water bottles. I’ll try to stop there tomorrow and fill up and take some photos. In the meantime, here’s one I took in 2008:

Hobblebush (Viburnum lantanoides)

This is actually the photo used in the Wikipedia article on the plant.. However I took it with my old camera, and I have acquired new skills since it was taken. This photo is almost painful for me to look at. Maybe tomorrow I can do better.

The first time I ever came across this plant was on a hike to the top of Mount Cardigan in Bristol, NH. I was wondering what it was when up the trail came a hiker who looked like he might be knowledgeable. So I asked him, and he was, yay!

Hobblebush has both sterile and fertile flowers. The large ones around the edge are sterile, and the tiny ones clustered in the center have both male and female parts. The other cool thing about this plant is that the branches bow towards the ground, and if they touch, they sometimes take root, leaving a hoop – perfect for tripping an unwary hiker or a horse. Thus the name.

My friend at work was asking if it was edible, and I told him I thought it was, but I was not 100% sure. Seems like I’ve read that all Viburnums are edible (though not all are palatable). I also told him that since I wasn’t sure it was edible, and since I didn’t know which part was edible, I would not put any in my mouth without looking it up. I just now looked it up in my Peterson’s Edible Wild Plants book, and though it doesn’t say all viburnums are edible, it does list hobblebush as having edible fruit (good for nibbling and for jelly). Peterson calls it V. alnifolium though, so I had to make sure that those are synonymns – and they are. Another synonym is V grandifolium. The USDA Plants Database uses V. lantanoides as the canonical name. Peterson also notes that it’s in bloom from May-June, and yet… it bloomed in April this year.