Each summer volunteers and interns, led by GLLT Docent and Maine Master Naturalist Joan Lundin, install informational signage along one of our trails. Susan Winship, Ellen Smith, Moira Yip, Linda Wurm and Joyce White started the self-guided walk using signposts crafted by former board president, Bob Winship. Pam Katz and Nancy Hammond have joined the team and summer interns also help with the installation. Designing the self-guided tour begins a year in advance, when the property is selected by the docents. Then comes the work of walking the trail and noting its particular flora.
Over the years, a standard set of informational cards has been built, but each property has unique offerings, so there are always new cards to create.
A photograph, common and scientific name, and a few key characteristics about each highlighted species are included and cards are positioned near the plant, shrub, or tree. The research is completed during the winter so that cards are ready for spring installation.
Since so many of you can’t join us this year, we thought you’d enjoy viewing the trail and its offerings from the comfort of your home.
Because Joan (on the left) walks the trail numerous times in preparation for the day’s work, she knows right where each sign belongs.
This year, she set orange tape in the middle of the trail for each stopping point and then tagged the item on the side of the trail making it easy for the team to locate the example of the species.
Let’s begin at the beginning, right near the kiosk where Deer-tongue Grass grows.
It is so named Deer-tongue Grass for the way its leaves resemble a deer’s tongue, which is apropos for this property where the deer do roam and browse the leafy offerings.
Next is Sweet-fern, which . . . isn’t really a fern.
Rather, it’s an upright, deciduous shrub with yellowish green flowers that appear in the spring and give way to greenish brown, burr-like nutlets. We love it for two reasons: it’s aromatic foliage, and if you tuck a branch behind an ear, it will help keep the mosquitoes away. Oh, and then there’s just the cool curlycues of its leaves, and its color during the fall and winter. That’s more than two reasons, and if I go on long enough I can probably think of others, but there’s so much more to see that we need to move on.
For our friends from New York who haven’t found your way north this year, we think of you whenever we spy this fern.
The way we remember who it is is because we’re pretty sure that New Yorkers burn the candles at both ends, thus the fern’s leaflets taper toward the bottom . . .
and at the top.
Sensitive Fern tends to grow in large colonies and its leaflet pairs are oriented across from each other, thus resembling a series of bow ties.
It’s called “sensitive” because it’s believed to be the first to react to a frost, but really, from our experience it reacts to the cooler nights of August by turning yellow, then brown, and doesn’t wait for a frost. Maybe it should be named Super Sensitive instead.
Up next is interrupted Fern that grows in tall, vase-like forms.
While not all Interrupted Ferns have fertile fronds, its noticeable when they do for the leaflet pairs covered with clusters of spore cases interrupt the greenery.
Occasionally we pause along the .3 mile path that was recently mowed by GLLT board member Heinrich Wurm, and now seems like a great time to introduce you to today’s crew from left to right: Pam Katz, Nancy Hammond, Intern Audra Hamlin, and Joan Lundin, the Mistress of the Self-Guided Tour.
Now that we’re moving again, there’s one more fern to share: Hay-scented so named because . . . you guessed it: it smells like hay. Or summer.
This is the fern florists often use in floral arrangements so it may be familiar to you.
Though there are different flowers along the way, the first with a sign to identify it is Heal-All or Selfheal.
As summer proceeds and even into the fall, the stem will grow taller and its flowers will be easier to see. In the meantime, it’s worth bending over to take in the dainty hooded structure with a fringed lower lip.
Oops, did I say we were finished with the ferns? No walk in the Maine woods would be complete without acknowledging Bracken Fern.
Though poisonous to livestock, and we don’t eat it, we do like to either hide under it (when channeling our inner youth) or wear it atop our heads, the stem pointed toward the sky so any biting insects will settle upon the highest spot and leave us be. Give it a try.
One of our favorite wonders along this trail occurs in the form of this teeny, tiny plant that you do need to get down on your hands and knees to spy.
Like the Chalk-fronted Corporal dragonfly that landed atop Audra’s GLLT hat, the plant is a predator. In fact, it’s a strict carnivore.
Diminutive in size, it makes up for what it lacks by being big in color and personality, for its like a Venus flytrap in that it’s carnivores.. At the tip of each tentacle protruding from the leaves is a sticky gland that attracts an insect and then the leaf curls over and around it, thus gleaning nutrients for its own survival.
The next along the way is a fun one to find. The Purple Flowering Raspberry produces a beautiful rose-like flower that turns into a fruit we all love, but this one isn’t as juicy as others of its kind.
Another reason we like it is because its leaves resemble those of the Maple family, but when we look at the stem and see how hairy it is, we know who we’ve met.
Elsewhere along the trail and really in so many places, much like so many of the plants and trees that are IDed as part of this self-guided hike, is the Running Clubmoss.
The fun thing with the tour is that once you read the ID card and look for the plant or tree in that vicinity, you can quiz yourself when you meet it again.
There are some trees to get to know better, especially so that the next time you meet them you can shake their hands with confidence and call them by their name, this one being Eastern Hemlock, which can be confused with Balsam Fir. One of our docents loves to demonstrate the growing pattern of the two—the hemlock likes to lean over as its a curtseying lady and the fir stands tall and military like.
Just above the next sign another evergreen tree shows of its fingers of five that spells its name: W-H-I-T-E, or the name of our state: M-A-I-N-E, for each bundle of needles adds up to the number of digits on our hands.
Studying it much the way we were was an immature Chalk-fronted Corporal dragonfly. We LOVE dragonflies and this year they are serving as ambassadors of our properties.
In the same way, we LOVE working with interns, and this year Audra is serving as an ambassador of our land trust.
There’s more to see, for after all, the trail isn’t long. Be sure to look for the Speckled Alder, and especially its bark, which should explain to you how it earned its common name.
And you won’t want to miss the Wild Sarsaparilla, its flowers now turning to a globe of fruits that will soon sport a blue-blackish hue. If you spied it a month or two ago, you may have mistaken it for poison ivy, for such is its early spring presentation—reddish brown, leaves of three, and shiny at that.
Of our native birches, two are identified on this tour. We like it that way. Begin by learning the idiosyncrasies of one or two in a family, and then add more knowledge to your brain another time. The first found here is Gray Birch with its triangular leaf that helps during summer ID.
The second is Paper or White Birch, though some call both White because they are mostly both white. But . . . Paper Birch features the peely, curly bark, while Gray Birch’s bark sticks close to the trunk. There’s more to their differences, some of which you can learn about on the signs.
Hog Peanut isn’t yet in flower, but when it does, you need to bend over and take a look.
In the meantime, we encourage you to get to know it by its leaves winding their way through the herbaceous layer beside the trail.
Do look for the Yarrow with its flat-topped flowers and feather leaves.
And don’t dismiss the Bunchberry. If there are only leaves of four, it did not flower and will not fruit. But . . . if it produced six leaves this year, you can expect to see a bunch of bright red berries as summer continues. And the veins on those leaves—they are the giveaway to its place in the family.
And when you find the Wintergreen, break off a leaf and sniff away to your hearts content. In no time, we guarantee, you’ll be dancing in the path and dreaming of chewing some Teaberry gum.
By now the tour has reached the “field,” which once served as a log landing when the trees were last cut. Look around for lichens such as British Soldiers with their bright red caps.
It is here that you’ll also notice a native vine that may supply some edible, though seedy, fruit in time.
It’s funny that it’s called Fox Grape, for we know that this is an area the foxes do frequent because we often spy their scat including a few fresh examples today. But then again, of course the foxes dine here for the vines and all the plants provide plenty of habitat for the little brown furry things that are their favorite treats.
When you reach the far end of the field, all of three tenths of a mile remember from the road, you’ve reached the end of the trail. It is here that a mystery plant can be found. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to pay attention to the sign at the kiosk that provides details of the mystery plant and then locate it in the field. Once you’ve identified it, we encourage you to contact one of the docent’s whose email address is listed on the sign by the kiosk, and tell her the name. There is a prize donated by another docent. We love prizes and hope you do too.
I would be neglectful if I didn’t tell you of our special find as we walked back. Though I’ve seen them on trees and buildings in the past, this year it seemed like everyone one else has been finding live specimens and all mine are . . . dead.
As luck would have it, mine changed today. Tada: a Luna Moth, one of our giant silkworms.
That hairy body and wings. Those pastel colors. And the feathery antennae. What a treat. I wish I could say it will be there when you take the tour—it will, if you take if virtually as you are doing right now.
A little more than two hours after starting to post the trail, and many hours of behind the scenes work to prepare for today, we can officially say this year’s Self-guided Tour at John A. Segur Wildlife Refuge West on New Road in Lovell is OPEN.
I know you join me in saying hank you again to Audra, Joan, Brian and Nancy, and Pam, plus Susan, Linda, Moira, and Ellen.
Please stop by and take a gander and let us know your thoughts and figure out the answer to the mystery plant and submit your findings and share your pictures and say hello to the dragonflies and have fun.