Walter Pratt Camping And Picnic Area

This picnic and camping area is part of the Brasher State Forest and only 8.5 miles from home. I took the dogs there for a quick romp but was almost thwarted by a bridge out and by the State Forest sign having been knocked down (I almost drove past the entrance). But get there we did, and it was a lovely November scene as I gazed across the reservoir:

I walked the dogs across the earthen dam, where I kept seeing these purple flowers. I decided that they were the common Spotted Knapweed which had been mowed and then sent up new shoots. Why they were blooming in November is a mystery, but there were many of them:

I also saw a meandering trail which looked like a drunk had dragged something through the sand. I thought it might have been a turtle, out to lay eggs - except that this was November! But when I saw the holes she had dug, I felt certain it had been a Snapping Turtle. Again, why she was doing that in November is a mystery. Global warming, perhaps:

But the dogs didn't care about any of that. They were running and sniffing, having a marvelous and wild time:

We walked along the shore of the reservoir and to the high ridge which juts out into the water. The dogs ran to the top, almost crazy with excitement. I love to see them happy, but reining them in can make me a bit crabby, at least at first:

But the pooches slowed down at the end of the peninsula, where they got to wade in the chilly water and smell mysterious wildlife smells which I could not detect:

Then we walked back toward the road along the top of the ridge, water on both sides of us:

The scenery was serene in the chilly November air:

There was a small bay toward the end of the peninsula where the dogs seem to feel more at ease getting their feet wet. Perhaps the water is warmer there:

But this is a small area, perfect for a quick romp, and we didn't spend long at any location. Moments later we were on the move again:

We returned to the picnic area which is sheltered beneath towering White Pines (and a couple of Red Pines):

The hike was over when we saw our little red car up ahead. At least it was over for me, though the dogs wanted to run across the road and into the forest. I called them back and got them loaded inside the car for the ride home:

New Nature Center in Massena, New York - Part 2

I was touring the brand new Robert Moses State Park Nature Center near Massena, NY (see also Part 1, posted yesterday). I entered another large room and was immediately drawn to a glass fronted display of taxidermy forest animals,:

A Mallard, a Beaver and a pair of Wood Ducks:

A pair of Ringneck Pheasants:


A Porcupine and a Turkey. There were many more specimens, including a pied deer, but you get the idea:


Tree rings, and their meaning. See the bear on the left? The naturalist took my picture with the bear, but there were none on the camera when I got home. He must have pushed the wrong buttons:

The bee colony had not yet arrived, but one was on the way and they were ready for it, with a transparent indoor display which will allow people to watch the bees' activities:

A huge, old hollow log (made of concrete, I think - I forgot to check). Children were drawn to it as if it were a magnet:

And inside the log, at the very ceiling, were realistic looking, fake bats which began squeaking suddenly and loudly as soon as someone entered. As you might guess, there were a lot of sudden reactions from the people (the adults more than the kids):

Beavers, the species which shaped our landscape and drew settlers westward when our nation was young:

A Wood Turtle, named for the wood grain type pattern on its carapace (top shell). I know they live around here because last year I rescued two of them from roads:

A Blandings Turtle. I didn't know they lived around here but I know they lived in Ohio, where I grew up, because I kept one once as a boy. The poor turtle had had his feet chewed off but it lived quite awhile in our washtub:

They had two baby Snapping Turtles who were not yet eating well, though they were tempting them by jiggling fish parts. This was an exceptional nature center and the two naturalists on duty were terrific. One of them I recognized from church, along with several of the visitors. I plan to return soon:

Early Summer On The Farm

This is an assortment of photos from around the farm and from the nearby roads. Only a few days after rescuing a Wood Turtle from the road, I encountered this massive Snapping Turtle in the middle of another road. I hesitated, but decided to help it across the road if I could do so safely. It was a nasty animal, trying hard to bite me, but I managed to get it across the road to safety:

Our long winter and spring drought severely hurt local hay crops, but farms with well maintained fields have been haying for several weeks now:

I've seen only one farm baling hay so far, but lots of folks are cutting their fields for silage:

My Rugosa Roses showed their first buds on May 31:

By June 1 they were blooming nicely, and I expect them to continue doing so through much of the summer:

The chickens collected at the barn door, hoping I'd open it for them so they could go in and look for grain. I didn't:

A closer look at the wildflowers in the hay fields revealed some old favorites, such as this Cow Vetch:

And Ragged Robin. Mine looked pale and scraggly, but I've seen other local fields which were almost a sea of purple:

Lesser Stitchwort, a Chickweed:

A Bedstraw, and I think it was Rough Bedstraw:

Common Fleabane and the ubiquitous Buttercups. There were lots of other flowers also, but they'll have to wait for another day:

A short video of the three calves frolicking as the cattle came to the barn for some grain. At 25 and 26 seconds, you get all four calves (including Rosella) lined up in order of age, from oldest to youngest, left to right - Rosella, Annie, Gladys, Loretta:

Quebec Brook In June, Part 3

The dogs and I reached what appeared to be the end of the trail. It didn't feel to me as if we'd gone 2.5 miles, but then it had been a straight, level and easy to walk trail. I searched for any continuation of the trail but could find none. The deer flies were becoming bothersome at that point, so it was time to turn back toward the trail head. We again passed by the marked portage with the log bridge:

And along the moss carpeted sections beneath the Balsam Firs:

I stopped to take a few photos of the extraordinarily lovely Quebec Brook and the dogs had a drink of water:

We all explored the riverbank and by this time everyone was wet except me. I too became wet when one foot slipped into the water and the dog leashes around my neck prevented my other foot from pushing me out of the water. It was a dilemma which wound up getting both of my feet quite wet. But it was becoming hot and actually felt good:

I tried to take some nice photos of the wild beauty but it was becoming increasingly difficult because of the deer flies. I held up the camera to snap a shot and at least ten deer flies were boring into my hand before I could snap the shutter. I tried to take a couple of videos but couldn't hold the camera still:

Clearly it was time to get back on the trail and head toward the car:

There would be no more leisurely stops along Quebec Brook. The deer flies were driving us forward, though they seemed to be concentrating on me and leaving the dogs alone:

I was endeavoring to appreciate the beauty all around me while I kept increasing my speed as the deer flies attacked with ever growing vigor. I called the dogs over to "heel" when we passed the spot where the Snapping Turtle had been:

Almost to the trail head. I made a mental note to return in the autumn when the deer flies would be gone:

We arrived at the trail head, a remote spot on the remote Blue Mountain Road. I fought the deer flies as I signed out, again noticing that no one else had hiked here in two weeks and there'd been very few hiking this year at all:

We all hopped back into the car, keeping the windows closed as ravenous deer flies buzzed angrily against the glass. I turned on the air conditioning:

On the way out along Blue Mountain Road, I stopped to photograph these lovely Wild Roses:

Quebec Brook In June, Part 1

I woke up at the farm on Monday morning determined to go hiking again in spite of the heat, in spite of the gazillions of vicious, ravenous deer flies, in spite of Seamus' near heat stroke two weeks earlier. But I left early in the morning and picked a trail I knew to be level, shaded and next to water its entire length - Quebec Brook. I signed in at the kiosk, noting that I was the first person to do so in two weeks. In fact, there'd been precious few people on that trail all year. But that, of course, is part of its charm. It is wild, unknown, pristine:

We began our hike with high hopes. There were no deer flies out yet as the air still had the morning's coolness:

I heard a sort of screech from one or both of the Papillons and saw them running toward me in terror. I discovered that they'd gone over to investigate a rather large snapping turtle laying her eggs and she'd snapped at them. In fact, I could have sworn I'd heard the snap just before the screech. I told the dogs to stay while I walked over to take a photo of Mrs. Snapper:

I was a bit nervous at first, thinking what might have happened if the snapping turtle had connected with one of the dogs, but it didn't take long before we all began to relax and have fun again. You can see in this photo that Fergus' ears are flapping as he runs along the trail with great joy. That's Quebec Brook on the left, by the way:

There was lots of beaver sign along the trail:

And just as I'd remembered it, the trail was spectacularly beautiful, with a mossy carpet underfoot, Balsam forest on one side and Quebec Brook on the other side. Also just as I'd remembered it, the air was so heavily perfumed with Balsam that it was almost cloying, reminding me of how it feels to have binged on candy:

The trail was an old railroad bed laid down in the wilderness in the very early 1900s. You'd never know that now, though, except perhaps because it's so level, straight and smooth:

Whenever there was convenient access, we stepped down to the river bank to see the lovely Quebec Brook:

The trail is reportedly 2.5 miles long one way. It sure didn't seem it, either because we never made it to the end or because it was so level, straight and smooth. All I knew was that it was lovely:

Quebec Brook is a noted canoe and fishing stream but it seemed rather small, shallow and full of obstacles to me. Perhaps it's mostly canoed and fished in the spring when water levels are much higher:

The dogs all got plenty wet - Seamus on purpose and the others by slipping as they hopped from rock to log to earth mound:

Go toward the light, doggies: