Showing posts with label Lake Huron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lake Huron. Show all posts

Sunday, May 28, 2017

The Bruce Peninsula Part VII: Majestic Flowerpot Island

 *Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV* *Part V* *Part VI* *Part VII*

The time has finally come to bring my whirlwind tour of the fabulous Bruce peninsula to a close. It's nearly two years in the making and long over due for completion but better late than never. I have a handful of friends heading up to the Bruce over the next few weeks and I'm green with envy of their trips. What I wouldn't do to sneak away and re-immerse myself in the spring perfection that is one of Ontario's best kept secrets. I'm of the opinion that I saved the best for last and hope you'll agree with that once you've dug into this final installment...

The large flowerpot on aptly named Flowerpot Island

Flowerpot Island. Easily one of the biggest draws for the Bruce peninsula and adjacent Fathom Five National Marine Park. It's a short ferry ride off the northern shores of the peninsula and within this rocky 500 acre crag of exposed limestone lives a plethora of incredible plants, including one very elusive orchid I'd chased for many years.


Flowerpot Island on the horizon with a smaller unnamed island in the foreground

The aqua jeweled waters of the Georgian Bay are dotted with an assortment of rocky islands of varying sizes and interests. Many are very small, uninhabited and seldom, if ever visited but still very aesthetic in their own rights. I'd love to explore these forgotten specks of bedrock and see what plants have managed to colonize and persist. Many of the island's rocks exhibit huge patches of a bright orange-yellow species of lichen that had to have taken centuries to accumulate.

Approaching Flowerpot Island through the morning mist and fog 

Our visit to Flowerpot Island coincided with a thick layering of morning fog and mist that made the island seem even more primordial and mysterious than it already is. The sheer rock cliffs and thick emerald vegetation gave me visions of Jurassic Park for one reason or another and I almost expected to hear the roar of a T-Rex from the depths of the island.


Sheer limestone cliff faces and bluffs of Flowerpot Island

Some of the white cedars (Thuja occidentalis) growing out of the limestone cliff faces on the surrounding islands have been studied and their ages taken by core samples. It's almost impossible to believe but some trees not even a foot in diameter have been determined to be over a millennia old! What tenacious and incredibly hardy organisms they are to have weathered countless bitter winters, horrendous storms, and hot, dry summers.


The famed flowerpots of Flowerpot Island

On the ferry's approach you'll pass right by the island's namesake flowerpots in all their geological glory. Here in this photo the larger of the two sits in the foreground with the smaller one nestled further back. A third flowerpot once occurred but tumbled down back in 1903. I'll dive deeper into these wonderful sea stacks further on in this post.


Bunchberry (Cornus candensis)

Once you dock on the island and exit the ferry you are immediately thrown into a botanical paradise unlike most any place you've been before. The lushness and biodiversity from the start is dizzying and you're left almost numb from a bombardment of pleasures on the senses. We spent as much time on the island as possible but even then time went by far too fast and I felt a bit rushed.

Two trails occur on the island: one is a one-way walk to a sensational wetland known as a marl bed; the other a loop trail that takes you around the eastern half of the island. Both are well worth every step and take you to some fascinating sites, both botanical and geological. However, there is one spot on the island that is ground most hallow and was an instant visit for myself once I set foot on solid ground.


Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

In the shaded haunts of one corner of Flowerpot Island's coniferous forests lives a mystical being that I had waited many years to make acquaintances with: the calypso (Calypso bulbosa). This ever more rare denizen of the northern woods is also known as fairy slipper and at first look doesn't appear to belong anywhere else but the equatorial jungle with its countless other bizarre orchid kin. I nearly melted when I first laid eyes on this incredible wildflower and could have spent my entire time on the island staring at its ineffable beauty.


Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)
Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)




































There were about a dozen calypsos in picture perfect flower with maybe another dozen in their vegetative leaf-only phase. Much like the ram's head lady's slippers (Cypripedium arietinum), I knew this wildflower would be miniscule in size but I was still caught off guard by just how damn dainty they were. The entire flower was perhaps the size of the end of your thumb.


Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)

I can't recall the last time I sat and intensely photographed a wildflower as much as I did the calypsos. I'd unsuccessfully hunted them for years and even visited this very spot during my first Bruce trip back in mid June 2011. Alas, that visit was too late and I found only leaves and brown husks that were once their otherworldly flowers. The etymology of Calypso's name, which hails from a nymph in Greek mythology, comes from the meaning "to conceal" or "to hide". This makes perfect sense considering this orchid's affinity for dark, secluded boreal forests. And despite its colorful appearance believe me when I say it's an apt hider.

Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)
Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa)




































After finding the calypsos in spectacular shape and finally marking such an anticipated "life" orchid off my list, I don't think my feet touched the ground the rest of the day. I merely floated about the island on wings of pure bliss and botanical joy that only something like this orchid could produce. But as memorable as the calypso is, Flowerpot Island has so many more wildflower treasures to share!


Gaywings (Polygala paucifolia

With every step down the island's trails more and more wildflowers appear from behind their emerald curtain. With no deer or other major herbivores on the island, the flora has a chance to largely grow unimpeded with some amazing results. Not only is the diversity of species eye-popping but the density at which many occur is, too. Huge swathes of gaywings (Polygala paucifolia) covered the ground in many spots, including all over the calypso site with the orchids often growing right out of the middle of it.


Dwarf Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera repens
Western Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera oblongifolia)




































The calypso is hardly the only orchid to call this island home either. Well over a dozen species occur throughout the variable landscape and bring their own charm to the party. While not blooming until a month or so later, two species of rattlesnake plantain orchid's artistic basal rosettes could often be seen in the forest understory. The western or giant rattlesnake plantain (Goodyera oblongifolia) may be the blandest of North America's four Goodyera taxa but make up for it by being yet another odd example of a western disjunct that's right at home in this region of the Great Lakes. It's much more common in the Mountain West and PNW and skips the entire middle of the continent before showing up in a very local fashion here on the Bruce.


Naked Miterwort (Mitella nuda)

Delicate. That's the best word to describe the impossibly adorable flowers of the naked miterwort (Mitella nuda). Each flower appears like a snowflake with its deeply fringed sepals adorning the less impressive petals. Not far from this small colony of the naked miterwort was the two-leaved miterwort (M. diphylla), a species common in Ohio but a scarcity for my friend and botanical companion, Rob. It made me chuckle to have both species nigh on side-by-side with one miterwort common to me but rare to Rob and vice-versa.


Early Coral-root (Corallorhiza trifida)
Early Coral-root (Corallorhiza trifida)




































Yet another orchid to grace us with its presence was the limey green stalks of early coralroot (Corallorhiza trifida). While a critically endangered species back home in Ohio, this early bloomer is quite common on the Bruce and occurred all over the more shaded, moist areas of Flowerpot Island. It almost has a ghostly glow to it in the damp, dark understory and makes it rather easy to pick out. 


Striped Coral-root (Corallorhiza striata)

Not to be upstaged by its orchid brethren was plenty of striped coral-root (C. striata) looking dapper in the drier, sunnier forested sections. The overnight soaking rain hadn't fully evaporated off its red and white flowers and gave it a jeweled appearance. While 'striped' is an accurate name for this particular myco-heterotroph, I much prefer the common name of peppermint stick orchid. 


Heart-leaved Twayblade (Neottia cordata)
Heart-leaved Twayblade (Neottia cordata)




































The calypso can definitely take home the title for most gorgeous of orchids I saw, and despite being genuinely small it cannot also hold the belt for tiniest orchid. That honor goes to the absolutely, positively dainty heart-leaved twayblade (Neottia cordata). It's an easy one to miss if you don't get one shining in a beam of sunlight on the needle-strewn forest floor. Each flower is the size of a BB at best and requires a hand lens or a camera's macro lens to fully appreciate. I had a terrible time getting a good photo due to the deep shade calling for a slooow shutter speed combined with a slight breeze ever-so-slightly pushing the twayblade around. It was miraculously rediscovered in extreme NE Ohio a few years ago after being thought long lost and extirpated for nearly 80 years! I still need to get up to that site and get this tiny wonder on my Ohio list one of these days.


John exploring the mucky margins of the island's marl bed

Earlier in the post I mentioned a unique wetland on the island known as the marl bed. It's hard to miss when walking by as it appears as an extremely shallow, mucky pond of sorts but don't write it off too quickly! One can, and should spend plenty of time exploring its area for a wealth of quality plants. From orchids like the showy lady's slipper (Cypripedium reginae), which wouldn't bloom until later in June, to dozens of sedge species: the marl bed is a real treat.


Starry False Solomon's Seal (Maianthemum stellatum)

Along the not-as-wet margins of the marl bed was a dense colony of the ever-stunning starry false solomon's seal (Maianthemum stellatum) in full, spectacular bloom. It's by no stretch a rarity in Ohio and I see it frequently in the right spots but it's never one I'd ignore and not give some attention to with my camera.


Bird's-eye Primrose (Primula mistassinica)
Bird's-eye Primrose (Primula mistassinica)




































Undoubtedly the marl bed's most exciting bloomer during our visit was scads of the bird's-eye primrose (Primula mistassinica) flowering throughout its mucky margins. It was a species I'd been too late for on my first Bruce trip and was elated to find looking so fine in its alkaline wetland home. 


The picturesque shorelines of Flowerpot Island

After spending plenty of time in the damp, dark, close quarter conditions of the island's interior it's blissful perfection to finally breakout onto the sun-drenched, boulder-strewn, limestone pavement shorelines. The water is as pristine an aqua blue as exists in the northern hemisphere and makes you think you'd found a wormhole to the Caribbean.


The unmistakable blue perfection of the Georgian Bay

Flowerpot Island is literally nothing more than a giant exposed crag of limestone bedrock and its shorelines show that splendidly. The huge bedrock pavement pieces almost immediately give way to deeper water right off the coast and make for a gorgeous transition of water colors from aqua to deep sapphire blue.


Wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria)
Wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria)




































Don't let the scenery of the island's shorelines distract you from botanizing, though! There's plenty more to be had among the boulders and limestone cobble. Some careful searching of the larger moss and lichen covered rocks can reward the patient with patches of the very rare and disjunct wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria). This fern is predominately an Appalachian species found from New England down to Alabama, but fascinatingly occurs hundreds of miles north of any other sites on the Bruce and nearby Manitoulin Island and the Straits of Mackinac area. I don't know what it is about the Bruce that makes it act like such a plant magnet for oddities like this but I freakin' love it!


The large flowerpot
As promised it's time to show off the most prominent feature of Flowerpot Island and its namesake: the flowerpots! These sea stacks were formed over the millennia by water, waves, ice and wind all hammering away at the cliffs along the island's shoreline. Softer rock layers slowly eroded and as the water levels waxed and waned post glaciation it finally left these two unique pillars that we see today. It's hard to believe that man had nothing to do with their formation and all it took was time and opportunity for nature and its power of erosion to do its thing.


Your blogger posing with the larger flowerpot
The smaller, but still awesome flowerpot



































Judging just how big the larger of the two flowerpots is is a hard task without something for scale. So what better than your blogger to provide such a service! It's a lot bigger when you get up close to it and you kind of just have to stare in awe and wonder at the odds this thing beats to continue standing year and year, decade after decade. The smaller one is only a third the height but both contain some genuine bonsai white cedar trees that somehow, someway manage to survive growing out of nothing more than a crack in the limestone. I compared photos with extremely similar angles of both flowerpots from my 2011 and 2015 trips and could not notice any bit of growth from any of the cedars. They're seemingly frozen in time, at least from a human being's lifespan's viewpoint.


Slender Cliff Brake (Cryptogramma stelleri)

Another limestone-loving fern you might be lucky enough to see while on Flowerpot Island, and other select areas of the mainland peninsula is the slender cliff brake (Cryptogramma stelleri). It prefers cool, shaded, moist fissures and cracks in the bedrock and exhibits dimorphic fronds, or fronds that differ in their appearance based on whether they're fertile or sterile. The fertile fronds have a lacier, skinnier look to them, while the sterile ones have a more blunt, stubby shape.


Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)
The rocky shorelines and small flowerpot




































The alvar-like shorelines are full of other fascinating plant life and a diversity of wildflowers for those that can peel their eyes away from the water and flowerpots. Species like wild columbine (Aquilegia canadensis), upland white goldenrod (Solidago ptarmicoides), bearberry (Arctostaphylops uva-ursi), northern bog violet (Viola nephrophylla), harebell (Campanula rotundifolia) and ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) are but a handful of wildflowers that grow all over the place.


Flowerpot Island sitting in the jeweled waters of the Georgian Bay as you head back for the mainland


I've really only scratched the surface of Flowerpot Island but hope it was enough to show just how amazing a place it is. It's well worth a day of your time up there to head out and explore its forested depths, limestone bluffs, and incredible shorelines.

Well, all good times must come to an end and this long look back on my unforgettable spring 2015 trip back up to the Bruce has finally come full circle. I really hope you've enjoyed this detailed look at what all this gem of a location has to offer and it has inspired you to take a trip up there one of these years. Or maybe it has rekindled your love for it and caused a deep-rooted passion to return to its beauty once more. I really want to make a return trip later in the summer sometime and re-experience it all over again with different plants. The Bruce is one of eastern North America's most incredible of botanical, geological, bird-rich, and scenic of landscapes and I wish I could do her better justice than I have. The Bruce will always be near and dear to my heart for the rest of my days no matter how many times I return. Thanks so much for following along and I hope to see you back for more botanical adventures soon.

- ALG -

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

The Bruce Peninsula Part I: Intro

 *Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV* *Part V* *Part VI* *Part VII*
As mentioned in my recent posts since coming back from the blogging dead, I have more than enough topics to catch up on. The biggest one of all is my sensational week long trip up to Ontario's Bruce peninsula last early June. In fact, I was up there at exactly this time last year and figured what better time to reminisce than now? I have tons to share and have decided to break them up into a series of posts that will make them easier to digest and enjoy. I'll be sure to link each and every one at the top and bottom of each post for easy movement between them.

View from atop Cave Point on the Bruce's rugged eastern shoreline. 


This first post will set the table for the rest of the series and serve as a nice introduction. I first discovered the beauty of the Bruce peninsula, or 'the Bruce' as I'll come to call it from here on out, back in mid June 2011. I had an incredible time that only whetted my appetite for more with a promise to return sooner than later. I missed out on a number of plants I had the highest hopes of seeing and resolved to arrive earlier in the month to catch them all this time around. I certainly achieved that and so much more!

Location of the Bruce peninsula within the Great Lakes region (courtesy Google Maps)


When I mention the Bruce to most folks, their first question is usually where in the world is this place? The Bruce is an extension of the geologically significant Niagara Escarpment that helps separate Lake Huron's main body and the Georgian Bay on its southern end, as seen in the map above. The peninsula's southern end is comprised of a mostly flat landscape with some rolling hills and dominated by pasture and agriculture, while the more wild northern end is dominated by forest and countless wetlands. The Bruce provides southern Ontario with its largest remaining tracts of forest and natural habitat and contains two national parks and numerous nature reserves protecting priceless globally rare habitat.

Closer look at the Bruce and major areas of exploration during my trip marked on the map (Courtesy Google Maps)

The aforementioned Niagara Escarpment is a major geological player in the Great Lakes basin and forms the backbone of the peninsula. The escarpment's bedrock strata is comprised of dolomite limestone, much like my beloved Adams County, Ohio's prairie barrens, that is of Silurian Age in origin and laid down over 400 million years ago. Despite being thoroughly scraped and carved flat by glaciers over the millennia, the Niagara Escarpment has provided the Bruce with some stunning topography in its dramatic lakeside cliffs/bluffs, rugged shorelines, alvars, and waterfalls as you'll come to see.

Pit stop at a bog in SE Michigan to see the Dragon's Mouth orchid (Arethusa bulbosa)

The trip started with your narrator making the initial drive up to Detroit, Michigan to pick up good friend and fellow botanist/trip member, John Manion at the airport. John lives/works in Alabama and had it planned to join me for the rest of the drive up to the Bruce after flying in most of the way. It was a good thing he did, as our quick, albeit out of the way pit stop at a wonderful sphagnum bog near Ann Arbor produced a life plant for John in the mesmerizing dragon's mouth orchid (Arethusa bulbosa). It was a harbinger of amazing plants, places and things to come!

The Bruce Crew! L to R: Stefan Weber, Drew Monthie, Rob Routledge, John Manion, and your narrator


The rest of the crew met up at our lakeside cabin we'd rented for the week. All four other gentlemen were exceptional field botanists/naturalists and even better human beings! I can honestly say having the pleasure of experiencing the Bruce's splendor with all of them and the memories, laughter and camaraderie shared was second to none. Each one of us brought something unique and valuable to the table, but I must single out John's penchant for cooking as perhaps the best of all. We ate like royalty while up there and all pitched in to take his dish and meal ideas from paper to plate. I can't recall a better week of eating before or since. John, I'll never forget those honey drizzled, prosciutto-wrapped stuffed figs. Bliss!

One of our daily tributes to Jackie for being unable to join our trip due to a sudden knee injury


The only dark cloud to hang over our trip was the loss of our friend, Jackie. She was originally part of the Bruce Crew but suffered a fall and shattered her knee cap shortly before our departure that required surgery and lots of rest. Jackie is a dear, dear friend of mine whom you may recall has her own splendid blog, Saratoga Woods and Waterways. She's also graciously opened her home and favorite areas of upstate New York to me on two trips that I often still think about years later. Jackie was never far from our mind and we made sure she knew that by arranging her name in a variety of different items each day and sending her a get well email. My favorite was the one pictured above made of forget-me-not blossoms that abounded outside the cabin (no worries, it's a non-native species, so no harm done picking the plants!).

Our secluded cabin right on the Lake Huron shoreline nestled among the cedars, pine and spruce


I'd be remiss if I didn't take a moment to show off the location of our dreamy rented cabin. It resided in a secluded area on the western shorelines of the peninsula's northern end near Dorcas Bay. The interior was nicely furnished, comfy and quite spacious but nothing could beat the huge back deck and its phenomenal view. The surrounding coniferous woods and cobble shoreline was full of exciting flora and the morning serenade of warblers galore singing their hearts out outside my window is an alarm clock I'll never best or forget.

Keying out plants while drinking a beer was a favorite evening activity of mine


That gorgeous back deck saw lots of action with several nights of expert grilling by Rob; plenty of beer drinking and cigar smoking (at least for Rob and I); and provided a scenic spot to work out the day's unknown plants we collected/came across.


The Bruce Crew's combined naturalist library


Speaking of figuring unknown things out, our group was hardly in short supply of relevant literature and/or resources while up on the Bruce. Between the five of us, our combined library was impressive and came in handy. If anything, it provided a hands on chance to check out books I've yet to add to my naturalist bookshelf. In many cases, at least one of us already knew what most anything was others drew a blank on but with so many books it seemed like a lock we'd be able to nail down an ID on any mystery organism, no matter its place on the tree of life.

The adult sand hill crane is an obvious spot but can you find its little chick too?


The Bruce isn't just a botanist's dreamland but a birder's, too! I'm a casual birder at best most of the time with my attention usually fixated on the ground. It's easier to focus on plants and merely pay attention to the songs and calls filtering down from the canopy than actively seeking birds out with my binoculars. But I'd been a fool to not take advantage of the returned neo-tropical migrants and northern species rarely seen/heard in Ohio while up in Ontario. The highlight for me was stopping along a grassy meadow to observe a pair of sand hill cranes, only to realize they had two chicks with them! That was a new experience for me! Can you find the chick in the photo above?

Lake Huron sunset from the back deck of our cabin. Not too shabby, eh?

I know this wasn't the most exciting or captivating of posts but rest assured the next half dozen or so to follow will more than show just how unique and majestic a place the Bruce genuinely is. It's one of eastern North America's best kept secrets but certainly famous and popular with those who know and experienced its beauty. I hope you'll stay tuned and come back as I reminisce on one of the most fun and rewarding weeks of my life. Thanks for stopping by!

- ALG -

Monday, March 11, 2013

Shoreline Fens of the Bruce Peninsula

I wonder if it's perhaps time to start rethinking the name of this blog.  With the amount of out-of-state traveling and botanizing I do throughout the surrounding states and regions, I feel like it has as much to do with the natural treasures of those places as it does with home sweet Ohio.  I'm only thinking out loud and have no real intentions of tackling the matter but it does stand to reason this blog is much more than just the fine buckeye state!  Recent times have seen focus on some of those extended forays; such as upstate New York and the southern Adirondacks, as well as the cranberry glades of West Virginia.  All were quite tardy and well past due but still worth the time to produce and share.  That being said, your blogger has decided to keep with that theme and travel back in time even further to catch up on some old business!  What better way to waste away the last days of winter with some warming tales of summers past?

A couple years ago during the summer of 2011 found myself wandering the botanical and geological masterpiece that is the Bruce peninsula in Ontario, Canada.  I began to weigh in on my travels and findings a ways back but lost track and it unfortunately got lost in the shuffle.  I'd like to dive back in and finish up my tales of the Bruce before spring fully awakens and my blogging switches back to more relevant topics.

Large shoreline fen complexes the Bruce peninsula is widely known for

One of the most spectacular aspects to this limestone derived slab of the Niagara escarpment are its huge expanses of shoreline fen complexes.  Unlike the small, isolated fens that pocket west-central and northeast Ohio, these graminoid dominated ecosystems stretch on as far as the eye can see in some places and are hundreds of acres in size.  Lake Huron's adjacent nippy waters play a direct role in the hydrology of these fens and keep their soils saturated and thriving with spike rushes (Eleocharis spp.), sedges (Carex spp.), and other fascinating flora characteristic of this habitat-type.  Areas of the Bruce such as Dorcas Bay, Petrel Point, Oliphant, and Red Bay claim prime examples of these shoreline wetlands and their associating plants; some of which are exhibited below.

Northern Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea)

My mid-June visit happened to coincide with the en masse blooming of the fen's most noticeable occupant: the northern pitcher plant.  Literally thousands of its large, blood-red flowers were suspended over the stunted pitchers growing below in the nutrient-poor and mucky soil.  The wetland almost seemed to suffer from an aggressive case of the chickenpox due to the mass-flowering of pitcher plants.

N. Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea)
N. Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea)






















The chilled, water saturated muck and marl soil of fens rarely hold any appreciable amount of nutrients (most specifically nitrogen) and require some plants to find ulterior methods for fulfilling their nutritional needs.  For the pitcher plants, sundews (Drosera spp.), and bladderworts (Utricularia spp.) that grow and persist in these fens, that other tactic is being insectivorous.

Linear-leaved Sundew (Drosera linearis)

Linear-leaved sundew's (Drosera linearis) glistening, enticing leaves intermingled with the pitcher plants across the swathe of fen and established an intimidating web of death for any winged insect.  Upon capture through a plant's own unique practices, the insects are broken down by the plant's natural enzymes and converted into a usuable form and ingested.  Speaking from experience itself, I don't see how these plants could ever go hungry with the unlimited number of mosquitoes, midges, and biting flies etc. that abound.

Fen orchid (Liparis loeselii)
Fen orchid (Liparis loeselii)






















Naturally, my main draw to the Bruce was its famous flora and most specifically its orchid diversity.  At the conclusion of my week spent there, I found no less than 20 species of orchid at one stage of its seasonal life cycle or another.  One of the most exciting of orchid discoveries occurred while scanning the drier hummocks of Oliphant fen for anything unusual.  The appropriately named fen orchid or Loesel's twayblade (Liparis loeselii) may pale in comparison to the physique of the forthcoming orchids in this post but their intricate lime-green flowers don't fail to impress.

Large expanse of shoreline fen on the Bruce peninsula

Gazing out across the open meadows allows your mind to soak in the details and impressive size of the Bruce's shoreline fens.  Come July these wetlands come alive with a pink/purple sea of rose pogonia (Pogonia ophioglossoides) and grass pink (Calopogon tuberosus) orchids that would make even the least botanically-interested stop and take notice.

Cotton Grass (Eriophorum viridicarinatum)
Cotton Grass (Eriophorum viridicarinatum)






















My visit was a few weeks too early for the orchid fireworks show and I was instead greeted with the conspicuous fruiting stalks of cotton grass (Eriophorum viridicarinatum) gently weaving in the cool breezes off Lake Huron.

Labrador tea (Ledum groenlandicum)
Labrador tea (Ledum groenlandicum)






















Another strikingly white and easily discernible plant showing off its seasonal charm throughout the fens was Labrador tea (Ledum groenlandicum).  This was a huge get for your blogger and provided a very satisfying opportunity to photograph and mark off another predominant life species; not to mention finally experience the spicy and refreshing aroma of its crushed foliage.

Shrubby, wooded borders of the fen complexes

Surrounding the large fen complexes were cool, mossy coniferous swamp forests comprised of white cedar (Thuja occidentalis), balsam-fir (Abies balsamea), tamarack (Larix laricina), and black spruce (Picea mariana) that allowed for even more fascinating plant life to mesh at their margins.

Showy Lady's Slippers (Cypripedium reginae)

The most exciting of those plants utilizing the forested margins of the fen meadows was easily the showy lady's slippers (Cypripedium reginae).  I was lucky enough to feel the adrenaline of coming across a flowering clump of these majestic orchids twice during my stay on the Bruce.

Showy Lady's Slippers (C. reginae)
Showy Lady's Slippers (C. reginae)






















I'd seen this species many times before back home in Ohio but the chance encounters here were not taken for granted and still sit high on my list of most exciting and appreciable finds.  The contrasting pink and white of their remarkable flowers is set perfectly against the vivid greens of the cedars and surrounding vegetation; it's hard to think they could ever really hide from anyone with such a loud display.

Sage-leaved Willow (Salix candida)
Shining Willow (Salix lucida)






















It's not only the fen's herbaceous plant life that is endlessly diverse and intriguing but its woody plant compositions and associations as well.  While walking through a shrubbier section of the Dorcas Bay complex I came across many species of willow (Salix spp.) either already in fruit or just breaking bud.  One of the most noticeable was the accurately named sage-leaved willow (S. candida) with its silver-green foliage reminiscent of the western state's sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata) plant.  Another shrubby willow in the fen's thickets and borders was the shining willow (S. lucida) just coming into flower.  The above photo on the right exhibits the shining willow's golden staminate flowers.

Wet area of the sedge meadow full of bladderwort (Utricularia spp.) flowers

In the soupier, more saturated parts of the fens grew a host of weird and unusual plants, including another of the Bruce's numerous carnivorous species.  The speckling of yellow flowers in the water-logged area above belong to the flat-leaved bladderwort (Utricularia intermedia).  The bladderwort's "roots" have a series of bladders that pull in water and its accompanying tiny invertebrates to digest and break down in a similar fashion to the aforementioned sundews and pitcher plants.

Tall White Bog Orchid (Platanthera dilatata)

Just beginning to break bud among the bladderworts was a species of orchid I had never laid eyes on before and was pleasantly surprised to find in flower.  Tall white bog orchid (Platanthera dilatata) has been found and recorded in Ohio's northern surrounding states but never Ohio itself, despite some habitat existing during pre-settlement times.

Tall White Bog Orchid (P. dilatata)
Tall White Bog Orchid (P. dilatata)






















Also known as white bog candles, this orchid ranges clear across the continent in its northern boreal habitat and additionally in the higher elevations of the mountain west.  Throughout its range taxonomists have separated it into three varieties depending on the size comparisons between the inflorescence's spur and lip.  Here on the Bruce and the rest of the eastern half of the continent only the typical variety (P. dilatata var. dilatata) occurs.

Buckbean (Menyanthes trifoliata) in fruit
Small Cranberry (Vaccinium oxycoccos)






















Not all is fair in botany though; the success of a find is often followed by the sting of defeat.  I had hopes of seeing a major lifer, the buckbean (Menyanthes trifoliata) in flower but as it turned out the sole time I came across some the flowers were long gone and the fruits swelling with maturity.  I'll just have to return earlier in the season to catch their sensational flowers scattered throughout the wet meadows.  Certainly something you wouldn't have to pull my hair to get me to do!  On the opposite side of the flowering spectrum the small cranberries (Vaccinium oxycoccos) were just beginning to get going and carpeted small areas of the fens with their reddish-white, nodding blossoms.

Northern Leopard Frog

My time spent on the Bruce may be approaching two years in the past but I still often times find myself reminiscing on my experiences and discoveries with aspirations of returning sooner than later.  I've been fortunate to have done quite a bit of traveling across our continent in my life thus far and while many places are worth remembering, it's spots like the Bruce peninsula that you leave a piece of year heart behind upon your return home.  There is still plenty to share on the Bruce's wonders and I hope to get to them.  No matter how delayed they may be, their song deserves to be sung for all to hear.