Turtle Way or Mushroom Alley

Turtle Way, also known as Mushroom Alley is the convergence of two idyllic paths that lead from neighboring gardens through the woods to a dock on Weesuck Creek. This trail, which marks the northern edge of our property is a right of way, used mainly by one of our neighbors to reach the dock where he keeps his boat (he is great fisherman and regularly disappears into the bay to compete with the Osprey in search of finney prey). The path is also used by me as part of my regular rounds. The forest is oak and hickory with scattered pines and cedars, particularly near the more open creek end. The overhead canopy is closed so the ground is shaded and covered with moss and lichen which give it a sort of fairy-tale look; these non-flowering plants are, no doubt, sustained by the regular fogs which float in from the bay and creek and the general high levels of humidity. After the rains, the non-flowering plant population is augmented by the appearance of fungi which in turn attract the Box Turtles. Box Turtles are very fond of mushrooms although they seem to nibble only a piece of each mushroom before moving on to the next. I often catch them in the act, their jaws covered with white mushroom crumbs. Sometimes every mushroom on Mushroom Alley seems to have been nibbled. The list of mushroom along here is a long one and varies with the season. So far this year, the specialties have been lactarius (Lactarious volemus or something similar; edible and excellent), the Red and Yellow Chanterelles (edible and excellent), several russalas (some edible, most not) and a beautiful purple, meaty, scrumptious-looking bolete which is absolutely inedible due to its intense bitterness. The turtles eat 'em all.

Eric Salzman

The Voice of the Turtle

Have you ever heard the voice of the turtle?

Yes, I know, the phrase "the voice of the turtle is heard in the land..." is from the Song of Solomon and refers to the Turtle Dove, not the reptile. But think about it. Have you ever heard a turtle (the reptile) make a sound? Well, I have. This morning, I surprised a turtle busy munching on something and as I walked up from behind it uttered what I can only describe as a little cry of fright as it pulled its head in.

That was about the most exciting event on a quiet, damp morning. A kingfisher came by on the creek, a relatively unusual event these days. Black-capped Chickdee young are out and, as the family groups move around, the males have started again to sing their two-note song.

I found a small dragonfly -- probably a female or young Seaside Dragonlet -- caught in the mesh of a spider's web. Seaside Dragonlets have been especially common this spring; the males are all black but, like this one, the females and young have a lot of orange/yellow on the abdomen (the long 'tail') and bright yellow-and-black stripes on the thorax (the main body of the insect).

The bush honeysuckle has already developed its red and orange berries even as the Japanese or vine honeysuckle is still in flower. Rambler Rose -- to me the symbol of the old-fashioned seaside countryside -- is in full bloom along with the Spanish Bayonet (or Yucca) even as the Catalpa flowers drop and cover the ground. And the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.

Eric Salzman

notes

A few notes and observations:

The Box Turtle that likes to sit in the pond was there again this morning (I think it's always the same individual). He/she/it goes onto the mud at low tide and waits for the tide to come up. As the water comes in, the turtle is covered and then actually floats with feet and neck outstretched so that only the nostrils and the top of its upper carapace are above water. An odd sight!

Among the birds that have started singing or calling in the past few days are the Catbirds which, as if in some sort of secret agreement, all started to vocalize at once yesterday or the day before after a week or two of silence. One (but not both) of the Common Yellowthroats has started singing again a little back from the marsh edge (it might be a different bird on a slightly different territory from the previous incumbents). Pine Warbler has picked up its steady, strong trilling, also in the past few days. Another bird that has stopped and started again (or disappeared and then reappeared) is the Great Crested Flycatcher. And, finally, to add to the list, Blue Jays have started calling again; Blue Jays don't really sing but, as everyone knows, they are very vocal, at least out of nesting season. In most cases, the non-singing period occurs when birds have young in the nest and don't want to call attention to themselves or the nest (in many cases, the males help feed the young). Blue Jays, for example, will slip in and out of the nest or the nest area in total silence!

Among the new floral arrivals: Morning Glories and Black-eyed Susans, a 'near-native' which has become naturalized here.

In the insect world, Seaside Dragonlets (love that name) have appeared on the salt marshes and ladybugs -- of several possible species -- are all over the marsh elder. This latter plant -- Iva fructescens, the dominant shrub at the edge of the marsh -- is infested with crowds of small, dark insects (aphids or some kind of mites). The ladybugs are feeding on the mites and providing some striking notes of color dotted all through the marsh edge. They are mainly orange and red although there are, if I am not mistaken, some (or some other similar insect feeding on the mites) which are plain dark brown.

Eric Salzman