During our in-class tree walk, my group and I were studying some of the trees on the northern part of the Green. I laid down in the shade of the maple to ~experience~ it, and when I sat up, I discovered a caterpillar in my hair!
Initial reaction to finding a caterpillar in my hair
Realizing how cool the caterpillar is (PC Leo L.)
What I observed was the eastern tent caterpillar larva. Though I thought it was the coolest thing ever, it is actually a pest to North America (as Prof. Smith said) because it eats the foliage of trees to increase the size of their silk nests.
The caterpillars that hatch together make these silken tents where branches come together on a tree. The tent serves as protection and a way for the social caterpillars to interact.
We begin seeing these caterpillars in late spring and early summer because they spend winter plus more time as eggs. The caterpillars mature in 4 to 6 weeks to a length of 2 to 2.5 inches and begin their solitary search for a safe place to make their cocoon. After three weeks, a reddish-brown moth emerges from the cocoon.
I must have intercepted my caterpillar on his way to find a home to spin. He was mainly black with many long brown hairs covering his entire body, and discernable ends that suggest a head and tail. The tail portion of his body was forked so that his body ended in two little parts. On each of the seven compartments making up the length of his body, there were a white oval and circle on the top of each. On both sides of his body, there were two yellow-orange stripes with a royal blue stripe in between them.
So I have a story to tell about my last-ditch attempt to see a groundhog for my descriptive narrative and my field journal (because it was also my last-minute final journal entry).
Last Wedneday, a beautiful warm spring evening, I decided to take a stroll down to Occum Pond to try to spot some groundhogs. It was just before sunset, and the light was beautiful. I immediately noticed how much more everything was in bloom than the last time I saw Occum, just a week earlier.
The grass had grown like crazy – some of it was up to my knees! The flowers were all blooming, and the trees had lots of young green leaves on them. As delighted as I was to see the brand new lush-ness of the vegetation around Occum, I also realized this meant it wouldn’t be as easy to spot groundhogs and their burrows.
I trudged through the tall grass over to where I had seen groundhog burrows before, and noticed some new ones! Now, there were 5 or 6 that i could see, instead of only 2 on this side of the pond like i had originally found.
There seemed to be two burrow networks, because I could see two main entrances, and the rest were spy-holes or alternate entrances. If you remember from my presentation, groundhog burrows are complex and have different chambers/entrances for different purposes.
There is always a main entrance and a spy-hole/alternate entrance, and usually at least two or three various chambers. The main entrances are usually built up a lot more with a large dirt pile, leaves, and other debris around them, while the spy-holes are much less conspicuous, dug more into the ground and usually don’t have much debris or dirt spread around them. The different chambers are usually used for nesting, sleeping, and getting rid of waste.
As exciting as it was to see all these different and new groundhog burrows, what i really wanted to see were some actual groundhogs. I had no such luck at these new burrows, so I decided to trek across to the other bank of Occum to see if i could spot any of the rodent-like brown mammals. On my walk over, I looked down to my legs (I was wearing shorts) and feet (clad in flip flops) see lots of shiny three-leafed plants that looked much too similar to poison ivy. Fear immediately swept over me, and my flight instinct kicked in – I started to run/hop/jump my way over to the other side of the bank, I guess all the while thinking that going faster through the poison ivy would give me a better chance of avoiding the oils from the leaves? Either way, once i finally past it through the tall itchy grass and pesky poison ivy, hunching over and breathing hard, I hoped i might at least see some groundhogs as compensation for my possible contraction of itchy bumps all over my legs. But, of course, I didn’t see any there, either.
Dejected and frustrated at my lack of proper leg/footwear, I walked back to my dorm quickly to run cold water all over my legs and feet in the hopes of maybe avoiding having red itchy bumps all over my legs during finals week, and alas – I saved myself from the dreaded poison ivy.
Until next time,
Lauren
p.s. i hope everyone takes this as a strong word of advice to never wear flip flops and shorts on nature observations/walks if you know you’re going to be walking through a lot of plants and vegetation :-/
Yesterday, I stumbled upon an exciting discovery in my own backyard. Outside the Choates, at the foot of a tree, I found a large cluster of mushrooms! I must have passed these many times on my way to an from my dorm, but had never noticed them before.
My attempt at identifying this mushroom (out of the 5.1 million species of mushroom out there!) with my mediocre identification skills and the use of the internet led me to believe it is lactarius piperatus, otherwise known as Peppery Milkcap (on a sidenote, I highly recommend spending some time browsing the creative names people have come up with to name mushrooms–very entertaining.)
If my identification is correct, it seems that this mushroom is “semi-edible,” as in it can technically be eaten, but has a poor taste. It can, however, be used as seasoning when dried. When cut, the mushroom bleeds whitish, peppery-tasting milk.I definitely don’t plan on snacking on these mushrooms anytime soon, despite their convenience to my dorm.
The species is widely distributed in both Europe and eastern North America, and has been accidentally introduced to Australia as well.
Have any of you seen these mushrooms around campus? What do you think of my identification?
As some of you may know, the beloved squirrel that people often saw outside the Fays was recently run over 🙁 So I have decided to dedicate this post to a memorial of the life of that squirrel.
I believe I first encountered this squirrel outside the lawn of Dartmouth hall, sniffing around for a place to cache his nut. I was intrigued by him because of his uniquely long tail – it wasn’t bushy like other squirrels’ tails I had seen, it was more wiry and skinny. The squirrel still had the characteristic white stripe around its tail, and I never questioned if it was a grey squirrel – just why the tail was a different shape and length than usual. The squirrel was displaying typical caching behavior, and I believe he was looking for a place to cache his acorn. He eventually decided on a tree over by Thorton Hall, a good shady spot but not so smart with regards to pilferage avoidance.
first sighting
I started seeing this squirrel around more, and a couple of my next observations centered around him as well. I again saw him caching outside of Dartmouth Hall (re: my last post). Here is a photo from that sighting.
squirrel eating acorn
This time, the squirrel cached his acorn closer to Dartmouth Hall. As I’m thinking about it now, that might be an effective place to put an acorn as there’s typically a lot of foot traffic there and many squirrels might not think to dig around that area.
Another time I encountered this squirrel it was jumping across the lawn of Dartmouth Hall, very frantically. His characteristic long tail was moving all about as he sniffed the ground and patted some dirt. I wondered whether he was foraging or caching, but then saw him pause and start chewing on an acorn, as shown in the picture below.
squirrel eating another acorn
Sadly, I didn’t see the squirrel too much after this sighting, but I will always remember him by his uniquely long tail. Does anyone else have any photos or interesting stories about this squirrel? Comment below!
A few weeks ago, on a lovely afternoon hike with some friends up Gile Mountain, I stumbled upon a very cool plant that I recognized immediately. Fiddleheads! Of course, I held up the group for some time as I photographed my findings and studied the funky-looking plant.
As soon as I saw the plant, I was brought back to the days growing up when my parents would buy fiddleheads from a farmer’s market and cook them to have with dinner. You can take my word for it–they are absolutely delicious!
Doing some research later, I found that fiddleheads are the fronds (large, divided leaves) of a young fern and are often harvested for use as a vegetable. If the fiddleheads were left on the plant and not harvested they would eventually unroll into a new frond.
Fiddleheads have a variety of names. A fiddlehead is sometimes called a crozier, named after the curved staff used by bishops. The name fiddlehead came about because the plant resembles the curled “scroll” on the end of a string instrument, such as a violin.
Have any of you seen these in the area? Has anyone eaten them before?
Last Thursday, as I was running on two hours of sleep due to a poorly timed #sunrike, I managed to spot-RIGHT after we discussed these critters in class, what a coincidence-a colony of tent worms basking in the glory of Green Key in the blossoming trees near my residential hall.
They were just as scary as I remembered them from my days of youth when I would accidentally stumble upon one of their nests during a game of hide and seek: their beady eyes stared at me, and I ran away before snapping a photo to document that I had seen them.
Tonight, I returned to face my fear: at 6:53 pm EST, I scrambled up the hillside near Burke Chemistry building and frantically took two photos before cringing in fear and rushing off to my Movement Against Violence meeting (join in the fall! we welcome new members!).
After cowardly retreating, I conducted some brief research on the tent worms and it turns out that they are in fact caterpillars (soon-to-be-moths) that use the tent as a home base for their expeditions to forage for food until they are ready and available to transition into their final cycle of life (mothdom, a word I just made up for the state of being a moth) before ultimately dying. They are able to leave the tent itself through small holes at the branch junctures. The most interesting thing about these silk-tent-dwelling caterpillars is that they leave a chemical trail when they leave their nest in order to allow themselves to find their way back to their home. After eight weeks, the caterpillars develop into moths, who only serve to repeat this cycle of terror.
As a side note, conducting this very preliminary research caused my skin to crawl due to the sheer number of terrifying photos available of the tent caterpillar. If one of our faithful readers chooses to conduct more research into this species (which I believe is the Eastern tent caterpillar), please exercise caution. I’m warning you, these caterpillars are scary on film.
Once again, this PSA was brought to you by AYP.
Source:
T.Fitzgerald. “Eastern Tent Caterpillar.” Eastern Tent Caterpillar. University of Cortland, n.d. Web. 23 May 2017. <http://facultyweb.cortland.edu/fitzgerald/Easterntent.htm>.
12:31am – Diana was becoming hungry and inpatient. Could this night get any worse? The answer was yes, yes it could, when Diana decided that she could totally try to squat down by the steepest part of the shore to get a closer look at some super cool Ostrich ferns (a plant she recognized repeatedly in other nature journals!)! She was soon grateful that she waterproofed all of her accouterments, for moments later she slipped and slid, a rush of adrenaline luckily finding her only knee-deep before catching the shore. She had fallen into the shallow pond guck, dropping the entirety of her folded umbrella and journal bag into the dirty water in the process. AGHGHDNCIOBEO!!Ewwwww!!
12:42am – UGH, why?! Why didn’t I just do another grey squirrel! This frog is literally smaller than a quarter, what if I can never find it?! What if I’m dying out here for nothing! It was at this point that she shed a few tears. But as ready and as easily as she could have thrown in the towel, Diana was going to find a Spring Peeper if it was the last thing she ever accomplished. After all, she had to energy to push on. She had a strong latte-of-the-day from KAF at around 7pm, so she was driven by the caffeine levels that any good naturalist should need. She calmed herself down by noticing the cool, soothing green color collecting on a huge tree stump – could it be moss?
12:45am – Diana passed a sign that had been knocked down. “NO SKATING ON POND” – well, no need to ask twice. “NO TRESPASSING” – oh, aehhehehee…. Diana realized that she was a badass now, sneaking through forbidden and uncharted territory. Her nerves quickly returned however, as the terrain became so moist at this new part of the pond that the giant layer of leaves began to squish completely under her weight, just like quick sand. She was mortified thinking of what could hide underneath. What if I could just find a more easily spottable, big ugly frog, and change my species to that? NO DIANA. You cannot give up, you love these little spring peepers, you are already so deeply researching them. This will be so worth it very soon. PERSIST!
12:56am – Focus! As Diana progressed toward the more open half of Occum, near where her class explored earlier in the term, she was shocked but excited to hear the peeps get louder and louder! One wild fact that she kept pondering about Spring Peepers was that they develop and metamorphose in water like any other frog, but most of them spend their entire adult life on land and in treetops, to the point where Spring-Peeper-pet-owners have to be warned that the older frogs could actually drown in water. The area was bordered by tall trees, yet she was surprised to find that the chirps seemed to be coming from the frail, smaller trees closer into the pond. Could the sounds actually just be coming from across the pond, is my echolocation totally junk? No, it feels too close…!
1:01am – Finally, SO CLOSE!! As Diana snuck nearer and nearer to the frogs’ yelps and the ponds edge, the cries became louder and louder. It came to the point where she could make out the intricate speech of individual froggers – of all of the distinct pitches, harmonies, conversations of what must have been an entire pack of froggies!! OMG,OMG, I must have a chance at finding at least one. ! But be patient!! Be careful! she told herself, terrified of scaring one away if she could find one.
1:12am – ALAS!! She gasped, she could not believe it – there it was, she saw a dark, moving vocal sac letting out it’s signature sound, A SPRING PEEPER, right on the cross between two ultra thin branches. A flurry of picture and video and observation ensued. See the following, as proof and because it’s super cool, and her nature journal to share in the questions, the discovery, the pure excitement!! Her whole journey had paid off!!!
[start at 3:02 -ish in this video of #DeliriousDiana and her frog for a beautiful view of the pattern on his back!!] [and rewind to around 1:51 to see his underbelly and oddly dark vocal sac!]
1:25am – Shockingly enough, Mr. Frogger rewarded Diana’s efforts, for he was a beautiful model froggy, and stayed remarkably still on that branch for recording and observation for at least a good 10ish minutes! Once Mr. Frogger finally hopped free somewhere, Diana was so excited and delirious at this point that she actually continued to look and see if she could find one of his friends – the cries were all so loud and close together after all, right?
1:34am – Diana decided that she was lucky enough to have found one “seldom seen” spring peeper, and that it would be ludicrous and silly to hope for another – it was time for her to get home.
1:36am – Diana emerged from the brush, and by the street lamp in front of Occom, took a celebratory selfie of her beautiful, joyful, soaked naturalist self.
1:38am – She was so wiped by this process that she briefly considered getting S&S to safe ride her the 400meters home to McLaughlin. She realized that not only would this be pathetic (I mean, come on, if I’ve gotten this far, she thought, never give up the last quarter mile stretch), but she laughed out loud at the thought of trying to explain to an officer why she was loitering around Occum pond at 1:38am, with the hair of a witchcraft defendant and the smell of pure pond water organism.
1:46am – Over 2-well-worth hours later, Diana beeped her ID back into the warmth of Goldstein hall. She found some free leftover Thai Curry Vegetables left in the common room. It really was a beautiful night.
[it was so late that Diana referred to Occum as a lake and it’s creatures as of the sea, but that’s okay]
SHE HAD FOUND THE SPRING PEEPER! But why on earth would she stay with a species that was so hard to find?! Furthermore, how could something so common, and even so easily audibly detected, be so difficult to find and observe visually?!
This is the amazing part of natural history. The species that we become most curious of are not the ones we see every day, who glide from powerline to powerline or are planted along the green for us to just stumble upon. No, it is the species that we must actively pursue that are the ones that will return their love for us. Diana was driven by the Spring Peeper’s unique and crazy-interesting phenology and beautiful anatomy. She fell in love with the endearing, yet magical brightly pitched music that no other, bigger or easier frog could orchestrate. But she knew that those Spring Peepers were the smallest gems in the mine – she waded through nature tirelessly just to encounter one of them, yet when she made eye contact with Mr. Frogger, no other feeling could compare, and the whole night became worth it – even special and fun. No matter how rare something is, with enough knowledge, intuition, and most importantly, hard work, you CAN find it. And it will be that much more rewarding than drawing that grey squirrel.
Because the most rewarding fruits of this science are certainly hard-earned.
Take this from a personal experience- an attempt to track down a common, yet elusively hidden species of frog.
Diana’s dearest roommate – Andrea (“Roomie”), was one of the lucky ones. Those fortunate people, the ones that animals are naturally drawn to, that is. A week earlier she had sent Diana a hilarious video of a large frog she had found around 10pm hopping along Gold Coast Lawn. Wow, did Diana wish she had that kind of luck finding those amphibious little devils. The last time she was able to observe a frog by chance was when it hopped onto her brother’s bike during a family vacation in Florida (circa 2010) – and hence her passion for frogs was born.
So Diana sought guidance from her aficionados of the amphibious. She knew that her track and field teammate, Leigh, had quite the naturalist experience with frogs, as she had worked in an ecology lab here at Dartmouth with Wood frogs. “You actually aren’t in the best timing for Wood frogs, by this warmth in Spring they’ve already laid their eggs and you won’t see many adults around.” Diana later wondered whether that was because of their life cycle or hibernation cycle.
But alas, Diana found her other great friend and teammate (and 2016 Writing Natural History Wood frog project veteran) Angela, who just happened to also be doing a frog project for her class this month. After asking her what frog species she was planning to go look for, she replied “some Spring Peepers!”.
“Spring Peepers?!” Diana replied.
“Cute little froggers!!” Ang explained.
Sure enough, within the next few hours Diana was knee-deep in preliminary research on what she indeed determined to be the most adorable tree frog in the entire Northeast, Pseudacris crucifer. She decided to go for it, and ended up choosing the exotic frog, not just the large chubby, ugly, easy to see toads.
According to the State of New Hampshire’s Fish and Game Department, “This species is seldom seen but often heard…”.
Seldom seen?! Great. This will be a challenge, Diana thought. But one I’m SOO ready to accept. Because these frogs are known for often being heard “…singing in chorus during evening hours.” If I could just listen for their beautiful cricket-like chirps, and really, really hunt with my eyes, maybe I could track one down.Seldom seen? Psshtt, right?!
She was ready.
“I don’t think I’ll have time to go with you and start looking for a while :/, but they probably come out around sunset.” Angela texted.
Diana looked by Mink Brook one nice evening, right around dusk, but still with enough light to see the frog if she found one. It had just rained the day before, so she came knowing that frogs often come out more in damp, gross weather. Nothing. She did not even hear any. But she left with some great observations of snails!
She came back to Mink Brook another time, this time a little bit later. She looked under branches and leaves in the marshiest of areas, keeping in mind that the frogs don’t like direct sunlight. Nothing. But on the way back up in the neighbor’s yard, she found a nice robin!
Eventually Diana decided that maybe ponds were much more prevalent habitats for these little buggers than river shores. So she went to Occum Pond, a bit later than dusk. She did not hear anything, but she did see two deer!
She eventually came to the fun, but unhelpful conclusion that it’s much easier to stumble upon things that you aren’t looking for than to nail down a particular organism, which was definitely making her discovery of Natural History equally more enjoyable and frustrating. But this did not distract too much from her determination to find, the one and only, Spring Peeper.
She figured that the mistakes she was making in previously not finding the frog were probably time of night. Frogs are certainly more nocturnal than Angela thinks, after all, Roomie found that frog hours after sunset, she thought. And maybe it had to be moister, crappier weather than just the day after rain. Maybe it would really be best to go out and brave an exploration during the rain.
And so it was planned. After a long, busy, rainy day and a long chat with Roomie, Diana decided: it was time. It was too rainy to risk ruining her nature journal, so she brought it out in a Ziploc bag. She would document each sense and thought of her journey as typed into her phone notes, and try her hardest to get the very best pictures and videos of anything she could find, and instantly journal it later. What she also did later, while the journey was still fresh in her memory, was sit down for a long while with her kombucha tea and use the timestamps on all of her photos to chronicle, in a detailed thriller, her late, arduous journey of perseverance that found the implausible – THE SPRING PEEPER.
THE FROG BLOG
Sunday May 14th – Monday May 15th, 2017
“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.”
— Edward Abbey
11:30pm – a journey through Occum Pond – light to moderate rain, no wind. Damp ground, high humidity. Accuweather “Real-feel” 42 degrees F.
11:34pm – “Be careful out there my roomie!” warned Andrea. “Don’t worry, I’ll be 400meters away!” assured Diana. Diana zipped up her oversized bright blue raincoat and double-tied her old white Saucony trainers. She picked up a big piece of cardboard to sit on the wet ground for observation if necessary. Armed with her nature journal and pencils sealed to protect from precipitation, she exited the back of Goldstein Hall, popped open her umbrella and clicked her flashlight. She trekked across the parking lot and started along the road by Dick’s House Hall.
11:37pm – She was soon elated– I CAN HEAR THEM!! Nevertheless, a distant but full chorus of exactly the collection of high pitched, not-at-all-ribbit-like peeps of the Spring Peepers she had recognized from the online recordings rang. She stepped over a deep puddle in the road, and noticed that there were three earthworms squirming and swimming (hopefully not drowning) in it! They looked stretched out and super gross, so she took a video and some pictures, just for Evan.
11:41pm – She passed Dick’s House, walking along the road with the houses that border the South edge of Occum, heading toward the D.O.C. house bordering the golf course, when she was startled by fast approaching footsteps. It was a random runner girl, wearing just a sports crop top and short shorts, this late at night in the cold, completely soaked, appearing entirely unphased by the increasing raindrops. Diana decided that no matter what was about to happen, she was surely nowhere near the craziest person out tonight.
11:48pm. Diana’s already sprinkled sneakers squeaked down the slippery hill into the D.O.C. parking lot as a strange feeling started to dawn on her, the reason Roomie had been worried. The darker parts of Occum were creepy as all heck this late at night. She decided to start her search near Occum pond’s one and only safety blue light, just in case New Hampshire’s smallest species of frogs decided to sneak up and strangle her.
11:52pm – Diana marveled for a minute at her first full sight of the pond at night. The bumpy ripples of the masses of raindrops tickling the surface tension of the pond were strikingly beautiful, just absolutely serene.
11:55pm – She advanced to the squishy and nebulous border between the floor of disintegrating grasses and leaves and the beginning mud shore of the pond. And the chirps of the frogs were ringing all around her, even louder as she got closer to the pond! After a few steps in and a flash of her flashlight, she swore she saw something jump by the water in front of her. But to no avail, it must have just been a cricket. Although she kept trying to feel a lucky feeling, she started to sense that it was going to be a long night.
11:58pm – Diana began to test whether taking regular photos of things she had her flashlight on, or just using flash photography, would be better. She obtained slightly different colorations of all the little plants and creatures and duckweeds in the following scene, so she decided to use an assortment of photography techniques that night.
12:03am – She advanced West along the North edge of Occum, and reentered near the shore. She began to feel increasingly more eerie about the situation – she felt sketchy creeping around in the rain near a pond in the witching hour. She literally could have been part of a murder mystery novel at this point. Anyway.
12:06am Suddenly, Diana’s flashlight lit up buzzing little movements in the water! They were about 20 little critters, shiny and black, about the size of her pinky nail, flitting randomly around the surface between a few tall water grasses and the shore. Could they be tadpoles?! she briefly wondered. But they couldn’t be, because tadpoles would have a pronounced tail, be bigger and softer looking, and would not flit so fast at the surface. She took a video, hoping someone more experienced could help her identify them later.
[Hear also in this video — the peeping of the distant Spring Peepers!!]
12:07am – Okay, focus Diana!! The rain started to pick up, and she was suddenly horrified by the fact that those could have just been gross fly larvae, and she was revolted with worry that the long grasses and twigs that poked at the ankles of her leggings could infest her with ticks. She was extremely paranoid trudging up and around the moist inclines, but she redirected her focus on the never-ceasing choir of her chirping little frog babes.
12:22am – She delved back into a further shore of brush. After catching her umbrella on tree branches on two occasions and tripping for the first time, Diana began to shiver, as she became chilly, moist, and frustrated. She regretted choosing a tree frog, and began to worry that they could only be found at the very top of tall, majestic trees. This thought led her to gather in the back of her mind that she heard all of the chirping louder when she passed patches of great evergreen vs. shorter bushes. Moral was low.
Will Diana ever find her little Pseudacris crucifer? Stay tuned… TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2!!
Does anyone know a dermatologist in the Hanover area? Because this tree needs a recommendation!
While observing nature along the Vermont side of the Connecticut river, I noticed that a tree with wart-like, spherical bumps all over its trunk and branches was leafless while most others trees nearby were thriving. I have seen similar looking trees before and have wondered what those bumps are and what causes them. I decided to do some research to find out (from experience, I would advise against putting “wart-like tree bumps” in the google search bar unless you are ready to see some questionable images of a very rare “tree man illness”). At first, I thought the bumps on the tree could be characteristic of a specific species of tree, but after my research I found that these bumps are called “burls” or “burrs” and can appear on many different species of trees.
Interestingly, scientists still have much to learn about what causes burls to form on a tree. Evidenced theories include insect infestation, fugal infection, genetic predisposition, and environmental trauma. While these issues may lead to the formation of burls, burls themselves do not harm the tree. However, the presence of burls can provide some explanation for a tree’s poor health.
The specific tree that I saw had small and medium-sized burls. That the tree had burls and was leafless at this point in the spring led me to believe that it is or has recently been experiencing some sort of issue. I cannot identify the cause of the burls, but I am interested in inspecting this tree throughout my time here at Dartmouth. Perhaps in a few years the tree will be thriving again!
Good [insert time of day here], readers! I hope everything is going well for you today.
On Thursday, I walked to the Co-op Food Store in search of some salmon to cook for dinner, but came across some beautiful trees in bloom along the way. I paused to take some pictures of these lovely angiosperms, which reside on Lebanon Street.
I used this website to identify the plants that I saw.
The first tree I came across was dotted with pink buds and white flowers that had protruding stamen. The leaves were widest in the middle, and had serrated edges, growing in whorls around the blooms. After using the tree identifier website, I concluded that this tree was a crabapple from the Malus genus, but was unable to identify the exact species, since many species from the Malus genus look extremely similar.
This second flowering tree also had five-petaled flowers and serrated-edged leaves that were widest at the middle. These blooms were pink rather than white, though, and the buds were an even darker shade of pink. After consulting the website, I identified this tree as another crabapple from the Malus genus; yet again, I was unable to identify the exact species.
The Malus genus contains deciduous apple trees and shrubs, including the domesticated apple tree (Malus pumila), as well as crabapples. These trees are completely self-sterile, requiring cross-pollination by insects, such as bees and butterflies. Flowers range from white to red, and bloom in the spring. Plants from the Malus genus are native to temperate areas of the Northern Hemisphere, including China, Japan, and Taiwan.
The next plant I came across had tall, brown stalks with smooth bark dotted in striking clusters of four-petaled yellow flowers. The flowers’ pistils were visible, but the stamen were not. The leaves were small, green, and widest at the middle, with smooth edges. I used the tree identification website to find out that these shrubs were Forsythia viridissima, from the olive family. These plants are native to eastern Asia and southeastern Europe, but have been imported to the North America. Forsythia viridissima originated in China, but can be found in New England in Connecticut, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire.
Once again, I enjoyed my walk, since it was brightened by the presence of beautiful flowers. It was great fun to figure out exactly what plants I had seen.
Have you seen any crabapple trees or forsythia recently? What do you think of my pictures? Do you have a favorite flowering tree? (I quite like plum tree blossoms, which bloom in the winter.)
