Moments in the sun

It was nice to spend some quiet time hanging out in the hollow today. I didn't go for a long walk or really have a  purpose other than time spent outdoors. Sometimes that's all it takes.

With our dog, Sadie, I wandered up the trail, stopping often to marvel at how quickly the forest floor is changing from brown to green. Coming up between and among the dry, brown leaves of last year's summer are Cutleaf Toothwort and Spring Beauty. Right now the visible plants are few and scattered, and their flowers are just beginning to open, but soon the forest floor will be a carpet of green highlighted with the dainty white & purple or white & pink blooms of Toothwort and Spring Beauty. I also saw the first emerging trillium (Trillium sessile) today.

Spring wildflowers must get their start early. When you live on the floor of a dark forest, it is important to come out early so you can get the sun before it is blocked by the trees towering overhead. Once the canopy closes in, very little sunlight filters through to the ground, thus the reason for the explosive growth of spring wildflowers. For the most part these species have their entire season of growing, reproducing, and getting ready for next year in the short time between the first warm weather and that time when sylvan shade darkens the woods again.

Last year's green carpet of Toothwort and Spring Beauty,
March 2011

Spring Beauty

Cutleaf Toothwort

Before the leaves come out, I am often struck by the stark, vertical lines that dominate the landscape as tulip poplar, maple, beech, and sycamore all reach for the sun in the shelter of the hollow. Until they get big, most of these trees don't waste their energy branching outward; they grow up, straight up, into the light.

Today I had paused to marvel at the beautiful color of the late afternoon sky, when quite suddenly a large turkey flew directly overhead, gliding down the hollow just above the tree tops. He soared to a spot near the house where he again disappeared into the forest, there to spend the night. A little later a barred owl called from the upper end of the hollow. Among the lengthening shadows, I stood and listened as it called again and again. Soon the sun would disappear behind the ridge and the hollow would slip into darkness, and for the time being these woods would be the owl's dominion.

Sunshine and darkness. Winter and springtime. Growth and rest. The days and the seasons cycle in the hollow, and I wonder whether I am ready for my next season.

Looking up