A Quirky Orchid Under Old-Growth Pine and Hemlock

If you're a first time reader and/or visitor to this page, I thank you for dropping in and hope you enjoy your stay. For everyone else, whether it be my long-time readers or recent followers you should probably know by now of my obsession with our wild orchids.  It's a passion that only increases as the weeks and months go by after all.  I hope to feature or share each and every one of Ohio's 47 indigenous taxa on here at least once as time goes on.  The one that happens to be featured in this post also happens to be one of my favorites.  I know, every other orchid species is "one of my favorites" but this one is definitely on the top ten list.

Dan deep in thought under the old-growth white pines and hemlocks

The hike to the site for our upcoming quirky orchid is one of my favorites in Ohio, as it takes you into one of the rarest habitats our state has left to offer.  Along a north facing bluff overlooking the deep sandstone gorge of the Clear Fork of the Mohican is a very small but very significant old-growth white pine and hemlock forest full of ancient and towering specimens.  Above my good friend and botanical companion for the day, Daniel Boone pauses under a particularly profound white pine to ponder the beauty of the forest.

Soaring white pine

Stout hemlocks

Stout and straight with hardly a taper is the rule in this grove and that makes it truly a sight to behold.  Even on the clearest and sunniest of days the forest floor remains cool and dark with its lofty canopy keeping the sun at bay overhead.  The melodic notes of the veery, hermit thrush, and black-throated green warbler are never far from your ear during this time of year and add another layer to your sensory overload.

Round-leaved orchid under the pines and hemlocks

Due to the aforementioned low-light conditions, the forest floor is sparsely vegetated with a large ratio of the ground merely a bed of fallen pine needles and oak leaves among a scattering of intermediate wood fern (Dryopteris intermedia).  Hardly anything seems able to live, let alone thrive in such conditions but the round-leaved orchid (Platanthera orbiculata) has managed to find a way. 

Round-leaved Orchid (Platanthera orbiculata)

Its large, round basal leaves are hard to miss among the detritus when purely vegetative but there's really no overlooking the plant when in full glorious flower.  It's ghostly cream-green glow beckons any willing soul toward its wand of bizarre looking flowers arranged in perfect fashion along a scape.

Close up of the raceme of round-leaved orchid

In my opinion, no other Ohio orchid's individual flower structure is more out-of-this-world than the round-leaved orchid's.  In something out of a drug-induced vision of the late Hunter S. Thompson, the flowers look like scurrying demonic, bat-headed beings on four legs with a tail, all ascending back up into their alien mothership.  Anyone care to share what they see in the flowers?

Such weird looking flowers

Aerial view of the round-leaved orchid

Orchids have the reputation for being some of the more fickle and finicky wildflowers out there and that stereotype definitely holds true with this species, at least in your narrator's experience.  I've visited this site annually for the past four years and it's certainly had its boom and bust years.  In 2011 the population had a mass bloom with dozens of plants bearing flowering stalks of varying size and vigor.  Subsequent visits in 2012 and 2013 produced essentially no flowering individuals with the most recent trip in 2014 bearing a good amount in flower but not approaching that of 2011.  

A spectacular specimen of the round-leaved orchid

Living in such a low-light environment, it's no surprise this species would come to evolve and bear such over-sized leaves and have a staggered bloom cycle from year to year.  Only a tiny fraction of the total available sunlight beaming down at the canopy penetrates through and reaches this particularly bleak forest floor, so any plants below are going to need all the help they can to keep their glucose factories humming along.  Sending up a flower stalk is an enormous allocation of energy for each individual plant so it makes perfect sense that a round-leaved orchid would take several years off between reproduction events to accumulate and replenish its energy stores before repeating the process.  

Round-leaved orchid portrait

The round-leaved orchid is predominately a species of the coniferous hardwood and mixed forests of the Great Lakes region, the Northeast, and all across northern Canada.  It does occur at higher elevations in the Appalachians as far south as Tennessee and North Carolina as well as in limited parts of the northern Rockies.  Here in Ohio, it occurs throughout the northeastern quarter of the state in a variety of mesic-dry conifer and mixed forests.  At Clear Fork Gorge it seems to prefer the oldest areas of the white pine/hemlock/chestnut oak forest accompanied by a thick duff of conifer needles where little else occurs.

Round-leaved orchid from 2011.

Round-leaved orchid from 2011.

As impossible as it is to see every orchid, every year going forward, I do my best to revisit each species because I'm just that nuts I guess?  Probably, but also because few things are more fun and get me more excited than the prospect of seeing an old friend again and these orchids were long overdue for a sit down.

Tanner getting acquainted with the round-leaved orchids

Along with Dan on this foray was my friend and exceptional field botanist in his own right, Tanner Morris who has a soft spot for our wild orchids as well.  He had never had the chance to see and photograph this species before so I was extra pleased this population finally came back to life this season.  Not to speak for Tanner himself but I think it's safe to assume he couldn't have enjoyed the experience more.  Hopefully there will be some around next year to see as barely even 12 hours removed, I'm already anticipating the next time.

A Tribute to Some Tremendous Trees

Everyone remembers the first time they experienced the emotion of falling in love.  That moment of realization and cognizance that nothing else can compare to what you have grown to hold so dear.  If you're lucky those feelings never fade and only increase exponentially as time inevitably marches forward.  For your blogger it was trees that first tugged at his heart strings, botanically-speaking, of course.

Trees are the modern day kings of the vascular plant world and among the most massive and oldest individual (and clonal) organisms on the face of our planet.  There's just something about them that has kindled respect and astonishment from me at even a young age.  Whether reacquainting myself with an old friend who has seen many a spring thawing and winter's chill or gazing upon a stately stranger I've only just met, each moment spent under their sprawling ceiling of limbs, branches, and twigs is precious.  Their role and importance in any ecosystem cannot be understated and without them the world would be without us and millions of other beings. Trees truly are the heart and soul of our natural world.

In my travels both near and far, I've always kept a keen eye open for any spectacular individuals that just beg to be documented with the camera.  Rarely does any photograph ever truly forge or recreate the same awestruck feeling of disbelief and/or amazement as in person but I've done my best pick out those that at least try their very hardest.  The character and personality these mighty wooden sentinels are capable of displaying are not unlike our own as human beings when you take the time to notice.  Trees are the ultimate prize of time, patience, and opportunity.

One of the largest Sitka spruce trees left on the planet

Let's start off with a bang and an experience that left me feeling rather small and immensely humbled.  This monstrosity of a conifer on the Olympic peninsula of Washington state is one of the largest Sitka spruce (Picea sitchensis) trees left on the planet.  It's thought to be over one thousand years old and is still packing on more and more wood annually.  For more on this tree and other virgin temperate rain forest giants, you can check out the post about my visit to this lush land HERE.

Forest-grown white oak in Gross Woods

Old-growth bitternut hickory

I often times enjoy making an attempt to liken the feel of my current-day photographs to that of a time over a century earlier with a black and white scheme.  It gives the slight impression of what it might have felt like to stand next to the leviathans long lost to the saw and ax.  It's a sad reality that we lose these relics of the past much faster and more frequently than nature can replace them; especially in a time where land development and alteration is occurring at an ever-accelerating pace.

Blogger and the great white oak of Logan, Ohio

Few trees leave me more breathless than the Great White Oak in the old cemetery of Logan, Ohio.  If someone knows of a plumper, more impressive tree specimen in the state I'd love to see it because I can't imagine many could ever compare.  Estimates put this tree at near/over 500 years old.  That's 500 years of Mother Nature's fury combined with human development and stress that hasn't seemed to slow this gargantuan beast down. Giving this white oak a hug should be on every nature-appreciating Ohioan's bucket list!

Ancient white pine in the Adirondack Mountains

Ancient white pines in the Adirondacks of NY

A road trip to the southern Adirondacks of upstate New York a couple summers ago introduced me to some genuine Northeast white pines (Pinus strobus) that I will never forget.  White pine has long been a treasured and renowned species for its tall, straight growth habit that was perfect for ship building.  Subsequently, almost all the old-growth pine stands in New England met their sawmill fates well over a century ago with very few groves still remaining.  The tree pictured top left is believed to be one of the largest/oldest white pine's left in the Adirondacks at over 350 years old and 150'+ tall!

Giant white cedar on South Manitou Island in Lake Michigan

Nestled in a remote corner of South Manitou Island in Lake Michigan survives a small grove of virgin white cedars (Thuja occidentalis) that have reached unbelievable dimensions like the one shown here.  In fact, the largest white cedar on Earth once called this small island home before falling over in a violent storm not too long ago. Perhaps this one here is its successor?

Old-growth beech in a SE Indiana wet flatwoods

An ancient beech at Fort Hill in Highland Co., OH

Few trees have the same look and feel as the timeless beech (Fagus grandifolia) in my opinion.  Their smooth, ghostly grey trunks always seem to emit a warm glow in the shade of the forest.

An exceptional tuliptree from southern Ohio

If the white pine is the monarch of the conifers in Eastern North America, then the tuliptree or tulip poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera) is the monarch of its broadleaf brethren.  This fast-growing but potentially long-lived species is the tallest angiosperm we have in our eastern forests and once scraped the heavens at over 200 feet tall in the primeval forests.  Today, it doesn't reach nearly as high but 180'+ specimens do exist.  This particular tuliptree from southern Ohio exhibits the remarkable diameters these behemoths are also known for.

Impressive red oak in Glen Helen

Single-stem sycamore of nice proportions

Not exactly record-setters but this red oak and sycamore from the Yellow Springs area are hardly anything to ignore.  Single-stem sycamores of this size aren't an every day sight anymore despite trees like this (and much bigger) were nearly a dime a dozen along our waterways in pre-settlement times.

Dan Boone and Rick Gardner walking through Daughmer Oak Savanna in Crawford Co., Ohio

Few places instill the flavor and atmosphere of a pre-settlement western Ohio like the few oak savannas we have left in our state.  For centuries many a stalwart bur, white, and/or post oak watched over the open, seasonally wet grasslands that once pocketed the glaciated Wisconsin till plain before man's plow bit into its virgin sod...

Massive bur oak on a Columbus-area golf course

Not even a rare appearance on the golf course can distract your blogger from noticing the ancient monoliths of Ohio's past.  This hardy bur oak had its roots in the soil long before carts whizzed past without so much as a glance from their occupants.  Standing next to this particular giant gave me pause when I considered its view of tall grass prairie choked full of spectacular summer wildflowers was only a distant memory and forever lost to the past.  Just goes to show that nothing ever stays the same, even for a tree.

Huge white ash in a west-central Ohio woodlot

Giant bur oak in Goll Woods in NW Ohio

However, it's not all doom and gloom as even in a heavily farmed and developed state like Ohio, some woodlots still persist with scattered individuals linking the present to our storied past.  The white ash (Fraxinus americana) pictured above left is the largest single trunked specimen I've yet seen even if its crown is largely dead and/or missing.  Bur oaks like the one above are a mesmerizing sight upon entering one of the last vestiges of the Great Black Swamp in Goll Woods state nature preserve in extreme northwest Ohio.

Largest black walnut the blogger has ever laid eyes on

Even better is coming across an example of a tree species you could barely believe still exists in such dimensions. Black walnuts (Juglans nigra) were, and still are quick to be harvested for their very valuable and beautiful wood and thus hard to find in a large size.  While not prime lumber grade, this particular black walnut in Buck Creek state park was and still is by far the largest I've ever laid eyes on.  

Snow covered scene in Davey Woods state nature preserve

The winter woods and its bare, skeletal canopy is a silent testament to nature's beauty no matter the season.  The forest seems to speak and beckon you in with its creaks and groans emitting from the chilled air.  Each tree set against the snow becomes an individual with a unique story and form and a tranquility to it all that words can't quite touch.

Old-growth swamp chestnut oak/sweet gum/beech woods in southeastern Indiana

A lovely example of an old-growth wet flat woods in southeastern Indiana full of trees three to four feet in diameter and rocketing over 100' into the sky.  Swamp chestnut oak, sweet gum, and beech are the primary occupants with thick, stout trunks that are slow to taper as they ascend.

Dan Boone and a mighty swamp chestnut oak

Looking up the column of the same oak

The most impressive denizens of this particular wet flat woods were the swamp chestnut oaks (Quercus michauxii), a species that doesn't quite make it north/east enough to occur in Ohio.  My good friend and brilliant botanist, Dan Boone poses next to one of the largest specimens of them all with the accompanying photograph showing the incredible volume of wood reaching into the heavens.

Exceptional sweetgum from SE Indiana

But then again, the sweetgums (Liquidambar styraciflua) in the same woods and other nearby old-growth flat woods aren't anything to pass over either!

I could go on and on in sharing my favorite trees but I will end it with one of the most impressive trees (height-wise) I've yet seen.  This shellbark hickory (Carya laciniosa) from another wet flat woods in southeastern Indiana is estimated at over 150' tall and three feet in diameter.  I'd love to get back out with the necessary tools and information to get a more educated height but regardless it's one imposing tree!  It's hard to fathom how this tree has survived who knows how many winter storms, squall lines, and ice events to still astound this tree-loving botanist today!

Upstate New York III: Old Growth Pines, Tiny Orchids, and Pristine Pyramid Lake

*Part I* *Part II* *Part III*

It's finally time to conclude my three-part series on the road trip I took this past July to the summer wonderland that is upstate New York.  I still can't thank Jackie enough for her hospitality and willingness to spend long hours out hiking and botanizing her favorite haunts of the southern Adirondacks with me.  I don't think we could have had more fun and enjoyed each others company more.  Once again please ignore the tardiness of this post and the previous one.  Honestly, I actually enjoy finishing up these posts more now than right after the trip.  The images and reminiscing warm my thoughts and computer monitor as winter's chill sting hangs on outside.

For the third consecutive day morning greeted me with crystal clear skies and cool temperatures.  I appreciate mother nature cooperating so well during my time in New York.  Ohio's summers as we all know are typically a humid and sticky, sauna-like experience, so the break was well enjoyed.  My final day in the empire state had plans for a hike through an old-growth white pine and hemlock forest to admire the majestic monarchs that have stood the test of time before capping off the trip with a paddle on a secluded lake in the southern Adirondacks that had become Jackie's personal little slice of heaven on earth.  By day's end I too would fall in love with its stunning scenery and deep blue waters, the memory and experience forever etched in my mind.

Jackie standing with some exceptional old-growth white pines

It was fortunate that one of the Adirondack's last remaining old-growth pines forests just happened to be on the road to Pyramid Lake and was our first stop of the day.  There is no other substitute for the grandeur and spicy aroma of coniferous forests.  The way the sunlight filters through the needled canopy and cool breezes kiss at your skin is unmatched and something I've haven't had as much time experiencing as I would like.

Tall and straight white pine

White pine and hemlock old-growth forest

Many of the denizens within had grown to mythical proportions and scraped the heavens at well over 100' tall and three to four feet in diameter.  This particular stand had been saved for future study and research by the State University of New York's (SUNY) forestry program and I thank them for that.  There are too few places still in existence that can really show off what these trees can do given time and the opportunity.   Apart from the dominant white pines and hemlocks were a scattering of red pine, red spruce, and sugar maple battling for the light from above.  The under story was largely open with a mosaic of herbaceous and woody plants; most notably hobblebush (Viburnum lantanoides), moosewood (Acer pensylvanicum), and mountain maple (A. spicatum).

Dewdrops (Dalibarda repens)

Bunchberry (Cornus canadensis)

The old-growth forest was also home to a number of plants that one rarely, if ever sees back in my home state.  I was delighted to find the charming dewdrops (Dalibarda repens) beginning to flower under the shadows of the mighty pines.  The leaves created an impressive ground cover in certain areas with the snow white, blackberry-like flowers unfurling their petals to reveal its numerous stamens.  Another Ohio scarcity that was hard to miss were the ripened red fruits of the bunchberry (Cornus canadensis).  This unique member of the dogwood family creeps along the ground and is adorned with large, white flowers in the spring that look more-or-less identical to our much more common flowering dogwood.

Your blogger and some impressive white pines

Here your blogger stands between two exceptional specimens of old-growth white pine.  The straight, slow-to-taper trunks of the pines, hemlocks, and red spruce reminded me of my time in the Pacific northwest and its unbelievably proportioned conifers.  Each tree had a character and look all its own with time and weather gnarled into unique features throughout the trunk, branches, and crown.

Giving the largest white pine in the Adirondacks a hearty hug

I've been called a tree-hugger by many people for different reasons but I'd have to say the most accurate definition is the literal one!  Here your blogger can be seen giving the mightiest of the white pines remaining in the Adirondacks a hearty embrace.  A thoughtfully placed sign next to the tree claimed it to be over 350 years old and exceeding 150' in height.  Having been there firsthand to see for myself I don't think I would argue with either fact.  It was hands down the largest white pine I have ever seen.

Dwarf Rattlesnake-plantain (Goodyera repens)

Our search for the large and prodigious was quickly reversed to the minute and insignificant once Jackie reached a particular section of the forest she was keen on sharing with me.  It was here that her and a friend found the basal rosettes of a tiny orchid a ways back and she was now curious if we could find it in flower.  Our eyes tediously scanned the sea of moss that carpeted just about every square inch of dirt and downed log.  Canada mayflower (Maianthemum canadense), white wood sorrel (Oxalis montana), and corn lilies (Clintonia borealis) added to the texture of the substrate with their thick, leathery leaves.  After about 30 minutes of fruitless searching, Jackie called out we'd best get back on the road to Pyramid Lake.  I was just about to voice my frustration and concur when I suddenly spied a small stalk of white and yelled out my success to Jackie. Target acquired!

Dwarf Rattlesnake-plantain (Goodyera repens)

Dwarf Rattlesnake-plantain basal rosette

Looking at the picture on the right it becomes more evident just how diminutive and easy-to-miss these orchids are.  In the end we found a handful of plants with maturing flower stalks and a dozen or so more vegetative basal rosettes (pictured on the left).  I'm of the opinion that this species of Goodyera have the most fetching of its genera's leaves but that certainly isn't to say its cousins; G. tesselata (featured in the previous NY trip post) and G. pubescens don't impress in their own rights.

Dwarf Rattlesnake-plantain just beginning to break bud

Our timing was painfully close to perfection with most of the plant's flowering stalks littered with swelled buds itching to pop.  Only a couple days later and we'd have timed them exactly right but beggars certainly cannot be choosers, especially when it comes to plants.  The macro shot above shows the sole inflorescence fully opened and ready for business.  You can even see the pollinia tucked away inside and patiently waiting for a ride to another flower to complete its job.  Excruciatingly tiny, you could fit four to five of these flowers on the head of a dime. I'd say it lives up to its name dwarf rattlesnake plantain exceptionally well.

With the satisfaction and excitement of a good find fresh in our heads we hiked back to the car and continued on to a place where my heart has never truly left.  Pyramid Lake is tucked away in the rolling mountains of the southern Adirondacks and is home to breathtaking scenery and a peaceful atmosphere unmatched anywhere else.  I had read Jackie's blogs on it numerous times and was honored to float its waters by her side.

Pyramid Lake in the southern Adirondacks

The day's weather kept with the trend and continued to be flawless as we cast our canoes off the shore and onto the calm waters of Pyramid Lake.  I wish photographs could stimulate your other senses than just that of sight.  The fresh, piney aroma to the air and call of the loons over the water only made this paradise more unforgettable from the start.  We decided to do a circuit around the lake's shorelines so I could get a taste of the layout of the land and explore the varying arrays of plant life both in/on the water and off.

Jackie paddling into a shallow cove full of aquatic plant life

I followed Jackie's wake into a shallow cove on the eastern side of the lake and into one of the most fascinating areas I've ever explored.  Not only was the water alive with aquatic flora but the air too as dragonflies and damselflies buzzed overhead and frequently landed on my canoe or paddle for a rest.  Schools of fish darted about and followed alongside me as I glided over the water and pond lilies.  I don't think I could have felt more at home in this blissful display of nature's diversity.

Emergent aquatic vegetation

Yellow Pond Lily (Nuphar lutea)

One of the first instantly recognizable flowers scattered throughout the cove belonged to the yellow pond lily (Nuphar variegata).  It's broad, floating leaves conjure the classic image of a bullfrog sitting on one while waiting for a passing insect meal.  It can easily be confused with a very similar yellow pond lily species (N. advena) which has leaves that typically sit/hang above the water while N. variegata's leaves float flat on the surface.

Floating logs covered in sphagnum and interesting plant life

The single most fascinating aspect to Pyramid Lake's shallow coves was the presence of floating logs that had long ago fallen into the water and gradually accumulated large masses of sphagnum moss that were home to an array of fascinating plants.  The most obvious of those were the rose pogonia orchids (Pogonia ophioglossoides) that dotted almost every mat and hummock.  Some other associate species living on these enchanting micro-ecosystems were: sweet gale (Myrica gale), round-leaved sundew (Drosera rotundifolia), leatherleaf (Chamaedaphne calyculata), horned bladderwort (Utricularia cornuta), small-flowered cranberry (Vaccinium oxycoccos), sheep laurel (Kalmia angustifolia), and marsh st. johnswort (Triadenum virginicum).

Small bur-reed (Sparganium natans)

Floating log covered with round-leaved sundew

Hiding in plain sight  and peeking their flowering heads above the water and lily leaves was the small bur-reed (Sparganium natans), a species we don't have in Ohio and a new addition to my plant life list.  Despite it being quite rare in New York it seemed to be thriving in the shallow waters of Pyramid Lake's coves.  Jackie's discovery and ID of it a few years ago was a new county record and goes to show how overlooked some plants are.  Another interesting flower I added to my ever-growing life list was the aptly named water lobelia (Lobelia dortmanna).  It's basal rosettes grow under the water and send up long stems that breach the surface to flower and fruit.  I can't believe I didn't snap any photos of the plant, especially being one I'd only seen once.

White water lilies and water bulrush abound

White water lily (Nymphaea odorata)

The white water lilies (Nymphaea odorata) occurred by the hundreds throughout the calm, shallow waters and scented the air with their unmistakable fragrance.  If you look closely at the photo above left you can make out small, slender stems emerging from the water all over the area that played an important role in my visit to the lake.  Those inconspicuous stems belong to the water bulrush (Schoenoplectus subterminalis), an endangered species here in Ohio.  Water bulrush only grows in deeper water where it is largely inaccessible, but thanks to my borrowed canoe I was able to snag some specimens for a good friend of mine who had never seen it and wanted to add the species to his pressed collection.  I know, us botanists are a strange bunch!

Looking from the cove back out towards the main body of water 

After spending some quality time exploring the cove and its botanical treasures, Jackie and I headed back out towards the main body of water and on to the next spots of interest.  Here you can see a better view of the floating log islands, covered with their centuries of sphagnum and all the emergent aquatic vegetation.

Jackie alongside the rocky shores and steep cliffs 

The most majestic of the surrounding features at Pyramid Lake for me was the large rocky mountain alongside its eastern shores.  The sheer rock faces climbed precipitously from the lake's surface and could never be done any real justice from a photograph.  Floating right up alongside the mountain made me feel very small in my lightweight kevlar canoe.  For a couple aerial views of the area to better appreciate its location and setting I've linked in a couple google maps as a reference.  You can click here to see a satellite image of the lake and click here for a topographic map.

We decided to head for the shores of the lake's large, rocky island for lunch but found its only suitable place for beaching our canoes to be occupied by others enjoying the lake so we made for the western shores instead.  As I sat on a thick bed of fallen needles under the pines and gazed out across the lake I couldn't help but think I would be hard pressed to enjoy a lunch with a better view.  The theme I took away from my time here was just how alone and at peace with nature one can feel if they allow themselves to be immersed in her beauty and splendor.

Rose Pogonia (Pogonia ophioglossoides)

Green Woodland Orchid (Platanthera clavellata)

Exploring the sphagnum lined shorelines provided us with plenty more chances to see some late-blooming rose pogonias as well as the occasional green woodland orchid (Platanthera clavellata), whose affinity for the acidic conditions of the sphagnum was in no short supply.  Overall I encountered nine species of native orchids in flower in just three days!  For a self-diagnosed orchid freak it was a real dream to see so many in such a short amount of time.

One last look across the waters of Pyramid Lake

As the afternoon sun started to wane and our arms and legs tired from all the paddling, Jackie and I reluctantly headed for the main shore to call it a day and end my time in this perfect mountain paradise.  As I shouldered my canoe I took one last look back at the lake and knew I would one day return to her shores and waters.

Gorgeous green mountains and crystal blue waters of Lake George

As Jackie drove us back home she decided to stop at a scenic overlook of Lake George and the surrounding mountains to give me one last look at a region of the country that my heart and soul could never forget.  It was hard to accept my time in this wonderland had come to an end but what an end it was.  My trip concluded that evening as I treated Jackie and her husband to dinner at a delicious restaurant in downtown Saratoga Springs to thank them for being such gracious and kind hosts.  It was the absolute least I could do for opening up their home to me.  I was quick to bed and quick to rise in the early morning hours for the lengthy drive back to Ohio.  The images and experiences continuously replayed in my head as the miles ticked by and I anxiously awaited some days renewed in upstate New York.

I am happy to report I will be returning to Jackie's hometown this late May to experience the spring season with her and see a whole slew of new and exciting plants and scenery.  I'll be sure to bring you along vicariously through my blog upon my return and will hopefully do so with better timing!

*Part I* *Part II* *Part III*