(So, has our absence made your hearts grow fonder? The year has provided more than its share of challenges for us. The vicissitudes of life have kept us from pursuing our love of exploring Nature. Things may be changing for the better. We made our first trip to the forest since April a few days ago. This post is a follow-up to our last one which describes our spring visit to the Green Swamp. We hope you all have been well.)
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When we tell people our favorite place to explore is the Green Swamp, it is understandable they think of slimy water filled with snakes and alligators, while they politely back away from us. Truth is, yes, we know where to find some of that slimy water with who-knows-what in it, but the “swamp” also consists of lovely shaded oak hammocks, long-leaf pine forest, open savannas, cypress tree-lined streams, hardwood stands and small remote ponds.
Such diversity of habitat leads to diversity of life therein. Several years ago, we initially went for the bird watching. We keep returning for everything else. The old logging roads twist and turn and the state forest management system has provided multiple trails along those roads. A few steps take us into primitive wilderness where we seldom encounter another human.
Our last post described plant and insect life thriving in the swamp environment. Surprise! This post is more of the same. Hope you don’t become bored.
Bright yellow blooms occur throughout the area which is just fine with us. This eight-petal lovely belongs to the Smallfruit Beggarticks (Bidens mitis). Just as with other members of this family, tiny seedheads annoyingly attach themselves to everything they touch. Since they are so pretty, we forgive them.
Soft pink decorates the edges of the pine woods where it’s wet. The Swamp Rose (Rosa palustris) is simple and beautiful.
Insects love the nectar. Birds enjoy the seeds. Ducks gobble down the entire plant. Although it’s reported to be edible for humans, we’ll enjoy it from afar. Pickerelweed (Pontederia cordata).
Palamedes Swallowtail (Papilio palamedes) on Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum). This is one of a handful of “large” black swallowtail butterflies in our area. The yellow line at the base of the underwing and along the body help separate it from the similar Black Swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes).
Small visitor to a small flower. One of the hover flies, Thin-lined Calligrapher (Toxomerus boscii) on Oakleaf Fleabane (Erigeron quercifolius).
A host plant for the Common Buckeye and White Peacock butterfly larvae, Carolina Wild Petunia (Ruellia caroliniensis) is fairly common. We love its lavender addition to the landscape so much we don’t even care it’s not really a petunia.
More feared (by me) than snakes and ‘gators, the voracious Yellow Fly (Diachlorus ferrugatus). Nice eyes, though.
Nearly endemic to Florida, the lemon-yellow blooms of Coastal Plain Hawkweed (Hieracium megacephalon) poke through browned fronds of a saw palmetto (Serenoa repens).
Immature Eastern Lubber Grasshoppers (Romalea microptera) will soon mature into the more familiar yellow/orange large adults.
Pinebarren Aster (Oclemena reticulata) needs to have frequent moisture to thrive and is thus well-suited for the edges of the pine forest here which receives periodic rain throughout the summer. Growing to nearly three feet tall, several clusters normally occur together, each producing numerous flowers.
A closer look can often provide a surprise. Crab Spider (Family Thomisidae).
The Southern Redlegged Grasshopper (Melanoplus propinquus) is one of the most common grasshoppers in the state. Its good looks, however, are on the wanted poster of farmers and gardeners who are all too familiar with the damage it can cause.
Sometimes growing in fairly large clumps, the beautiful Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium) is attractive to a host of nectar-loving insects. We may not care for the nectar, but it certainly is among our favorites.
Endemic to Florida, the diminutive Bay Lobelia (Lobelia feayana) is fairly common in roadside ditches and depressions. The small blooms can form impressive masses of lavender and bees really like them. So do we.
A uniquely-shaped plant, Blackroot (Pterocaulon pycnostachyum) can grow to two feet tall and has little knobby whitish flowers. The stems and undersides of the leaves are covered in silvery hairs. Something different.
Found in open areas with moist soils and plenty of sunlight, the Yellow Milkwort (Senega rugelii) is another Florida endemic. Flower stalks can grow up to three feet and the blooms are rounded. Yellow Milkwort seeds are spread almost exclusively by ants. The seeds contain fleshy, oil- and protein-rich structures. Ants collect the seeds and take them to their nest where they consume the protein, but leave the seed intact. The seeds are then tossed from the nest into favorable germinating conditions.
Just as we both decided to have some sort of heart surgery late last year, we also decided “Gee, this would be a great time buy a new house and move!“. We closed on the house in January of this year and spent the next few months remodeling the place while attempting to regain our health. Several other nasty surprises left us emotionally and physically drained. We are almost recovered from it all. Moved into the new place July 1st and are having fun staring at mountains of boxes. Mostly, we’re relaxing. Through it all, we know that – Life Is Good!
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
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Pre-dawn mist which had settled into depressions appeared as little ground-clouds across the vast pastureland adjacent to the Green Swamp. Morning flights of White Ibises were landing among the browsing cattle hoping for breakfast to be hopping and crawling away from moving hooves. Abruptly, now we were driving through what seemed like a tunnel of trees. Mostly long-leaf pines with an occasional bay or hickory and stately cypress standing guard along streams and the Withlacoochee River.
Transitioning from paved to unpaved road meant slowing down. Speed. There has to be a metaphor for living our lives in there somewhere. The effect of barely moving forward along the old logging road was immediately rewarding. Ubiquitous Spanish Needle, little “fried-egg” blooms of Oakleaf Fleabane, “non-flowers” of large patches of Starrush Whitetop – would we have noticed any of these at “highway speed”?
Our feet are immediately soaked by dew clinging to grass and plants and we strain to remember our science lessons of how dew forms. Humidity, condensation, transpiration, radiation. My head hurts. Our biggest question is, if there is so much dew this morning, why has it not rained in a couple of months? Central Florida is having its driest spring in almost ten years.
We need rain.
Gini. Beautiful brown eyes and incredible hearing. (Okay, she cheats. She retains that “Mom Hearing” trait where she could hear our kids, and me, clearing throats or whispering two blocks away.) On this beautiful morning, she ticks off songs, calls and scoldings of myriad unseen avian audiences. Brown-headed Nuthatch, Tufted Titmouse, Carolina Wren, Northern Parula, Blue Jay, Eastern Towhee, Red-bellied and Downy Woodpeckers. (None of the songsters posed for pictures today.) From deep in the forest a Barred Owl was loud enough even I could hear it.
With no rain, we were not certain what to expect in our search for spring blooms. The swamp provides ample satisfaction every time we visit. Today was no exception.
We reveled in the power of the flower.
Bees love the lemon-yellow flowers of the Fourpetal St. Johnswort (Hypericum tetrapetalum). So do we. The plant is almost endemic to Florida with it also being reported in a couple of counties in south Georgia.
Small and delicate, the Florida Bellflower (Campanula floridana) is found only in Florida. We think it’s beautiful from any angle.
So nice the state couldn’t make up its mind. In 1991, they decided to name the entire species of Coreopsis as Florida’s state wildflower. This one, Leavenworth’s Tickseed (Coreopsis leavenworthii), is near endemic to the Sunshine State and we love its wispy attitude.
At first glance, the Starrush Whitetop (Rhynchospora colorata) looks like a white flower with green-tipped petals. It is actually a sedge and quite common in ditches and low damp places.
Although we saw a few different species of butterfly, by far the most abundant today was the Phaon Crescent (Phyciodes phaon). In Greek mythology, Phaon was an old and unattractive boatman. According to myth, he ferried Aphrodite a long distance, but would not accept payment. As a gift, Aphrodite gave him back his youth and made him beautiful.
Southern Beeblossom (Oenothera simulans), the plant formerly known as Gaura angustifolia. Taxonomists just want to have fun. This lovely bloom opens when the sun sets and begins to fade the next day. Nighttime pollinators appreciate the all-night nectar bar.
Lavender to bluish blooms attract a variety of insects, as well as those of us who appreciate stuff that is just nice to look at. The Lyreleaf Sage (Salvia lyrata) is, fortunately, abundant in the swamp/forest. Basal leaves help identify the plant even when blooms aren’t present and their shape is how it gets its common name.
Looking like little alien creatures atop the water, the Swollen Bladderwort (Utricularia inflata) has attractive yellow flowers and really neat “feet”. These carnivorous plants float innocently along until a little fishie or shrimp thingy touches those “feet” and then – “gulp” – gone.
A very common dragonfly throughout central Florida, the Blue Dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis) is small and quite handsome. The male sports a slate-blue abdomen while his mate prefers the more sporty gold-with-racing-stripe look.
Another night-bloomer, the Cutleaf Evening Primrose (Oenothera laciniata) has delicate four-petal flowers. Thankfully, the blooms remain open for much of the morning so those of us who don’t spend the night in the swamp too often can enjoy them.
Speaking of taxonomy. One could get dizzy trying to track down Iris identifications. We’re going to call this one Savanna Iris (Iris savannarum). It is also commonly referred to as Prairie Iris. It is also easy to go down a rabbit hole when you try to get agreement on a scientific name. No matter. It is, quite simply, one of the most attractive flowers in our spring landscape. The Green Swamp is awash in purple today.
NEW BUG ALERT! We are not the only ones attracted to the attractive Iris. Ever have that feeling you’re being — watched? In this case, by eight eyes. This colorful jumping spider, Phidippus princeps pulcherrimus, apparently has no common name. That color against the nice green of a Savanna Iris stem certainly stood out.
Thistle Time!
Spring in the swamp means thistles. Today we found a terrific number of Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum). Which, as we all know, can also be called Bristle Thistle, Yellow Thistle, Horrid Thistle, Spiny Thistle or Bull Thistle. Pollinators (and, to be honest, us, too) simply don’t care what it’s called. It’s pretty and, apparently has delicious nectar once you get past the thorny things.
Thistle lover. Brown-winged Striped Sweat Bee (Agapostemon splendens).
Another lover, of thistles. A Mason Bee (Osmia chalybea), with no apparent common name.
Our spirits were definitley improved today through the astounding magic of flower power. All that and there shall be a Part II, coming soon to a blog near you.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
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“Wow!”
That’s an overused interjection, for certain. Sometimes, however, nothing else conveys the meaning one seeks. Besides, it’s a direct quote, so there.
The object of Gini’s amazement hove into view as we came to the first bend in the road after entering Colt Creek State Park. A large swath of lavender along the edge of the pine forest offered a spectacular “Welcome Back“. Canadian or Blue Toadflax is an early spring bloomer which often occurs in masses and just as often elicits an exhaled “Wow!”.
Our local state park received considerable damage from Hurricane Milton in mid-October 2024. The huge storm dumped over 18 inches of rain in the area in 24 hours, had sustained winds of near 100 mph as it crossed the center of Florida and spawned 46 confirmed tornadoes in a single day. The staff and volunteers have done an incredible job of restoring trails, camping areas and cleaning up downed trees. Due to our health issues and the park closure, this was our first visit since Sepember 17, 2024.
We are both almost back to good health and are convinced that breathing fresh air and lounging under longleaf pine branches are far better for us than any other remedies. As we progress toward full recuperation, Nature progresses toward annual renewal. “Official” Spring is still a couple of weeks ahead, but our morning exploration revealed a refreshing “Spring Preview”.
It is a wonderful time of year to be outdoors. We are blessed with migratory birds which are fueling up for their upcoming return to northern breeding grounds. Meanwhile, resident birds are practicing courtship songs, mating behavior and some are already constructing nests. Winter’s gray-brown landscape is dotted with bright green new leaves. Some early blooming flowers, such as that toadflax mentioned above, are putting on quite a show. Looking carefully along the edges of a path can reveal small floral jewels among the leaf litter. A fox squirrel scolds from an oak limb. White-tailed Deer forage in the shadows. Adrenaline surges as a Cottontail Rabbit sprints away from under my feet.
What a totally satisfying morning.
Small flowers. Large impact. Canadian (or Blue) Toadflax (Linaria canadensis).
A male Common Yellowthroat tried to impress Gini with his courting song. It worked.
Nature just doesn’t care that humans use calendars for keeping track of the seasons. When it’s time for berries, it’s time for berries. Sawtooth Blackberry (Rubus pensilvanicus).
The Savannah Sparrow is one of our most abundant winter migrant species.
Maybe I’m just hungry, but the small flower of Oakleaf Fleabane (Erigeron quercifolius) reminds me of a fried egg.
A resident bird which nests within the park, a Yellow-throated Warbler was busy adding to its insect collection.
Florida couldn’t figure out which wildflower to name as the official state flower, so they just named an entire genus for that honor. One species of the genus Coreopsis, Leavenworth’s Tickseed (Coreopsis leavenworthii), is an early bloomer and always looks gangly, unkempt and deliciously golden.
Stork Club. A group of Wood Storks relaxes by the lake. These large birds breed locally within the Green Swamp, which borders the park. (All three are immature birds. Light bills and gray feathers on their necks.)
Lovely blooms. Lovely scent. Some birds actually eat the flowers. Don’t try that at home. All parts of the Carolina Jessamine (Gelsemium sempervirens) are very toxic for humans and most livestock.
Another winter tourist, a Gray Catbird is really quite attractive for seeming so plain in appearance.
Bees and butterflies love the blooms of the Lyreleaf Sage (Salvia lyrata). Okay, so do we. The fact that it blooms from late winter through spring helps.
We aren’t alone in our love of tall pines. A convenient limb makes a great lookout for a Red-shouldered Hawk.
Blooms with delicate lemon-yellow petals are beginning to pop up around the park. This is one of our favorite flowers. Carolina Desert-chicory (Pyrrhopappus carolinianus), also known as Texas or False Dandelion.
The Yellow-rumped Warbler is one of the most abundant warblers we encounter during winter migration. This may be an immature bird as it doesn’t show must color.
A really attractive plant in early spring along the forest edges is Walter’s Viburnum (Viburnum obovatum). It can grow to 12 feet tall and just about as wide. The clusters of small white flowers are loved by us and the bugs. In late summer, there will be drupes of red fruit which turn black when ripe.
Gangs from the north appear on lawns and fence posts all winter long. American Robin.
More beauty en masse. This time, a sea of yellow as we get to enjoy the fields filled with Mexican Pricklypoppy (Argemone mexicana).
“I am NOT a fish!” The Osprey still checked me out, just in case.
Gini says the Pileated Woodpecker looks prehistoric. I happen to agree. (Don’t tell her.). This male spent quite awhile probing around tree limbs at eye-level. (Why can’t all photo subjects be so cooperative?)
Seasons and lives change. It is inevitable. How we deal with the transitions makes all the difference.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
Life is precious. Step outside. Breathe deeply. Tell someone you love them.
(Our handlers released the latch to the door of our confinement and we furtively stepped onto the soft grass. It took a few moments for us to realize that we could once again spread our wings fully. In unison, we ran forward, flapped vigorously and were propelled into the bright blue sky. As we … “slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings” …**, we breathed deeply and thanked all those who had helped us prolong our dream-life together. A warm layer of air buoyed us enough that we could soar over fields, forests, lakes, swamps. As winter loosens its grip, spots of bright green appeared below and we knew Spring would soon grace us with renewal.)
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Our rehabilitation is ongoing. We feel good each day and recently enjoyed our first outing since mid-December. The morning was glorious. Blue skies and mild temperatures greeted us as we inspected one of our favorite birding patches. Residents and winter migrants were going about the daily business of survival. Just as they have since the beginning of time.
Fresh fruit for breakfast at the edge of the lake, checking on early Spring flora, watching a dozen Palm Warblers flit from perches to the grassy hiding places of protein-laden insects, excitement as an Osprey flew overhead with a huge branch to shore up a nest which will soon be home to a new generation of fish hawks. It was all so — refreshing. Can’t wait to do it again.
Although it would be easy to think it’s a sign of Spring, these bright berries of a Yaupon Holly (Ilex vomitoria) are holdovers from the winter. Soon, small white flowers will appear and new fruit will show up in the fall.
During migration, we occasionally find a group of Wilson’s Snipe, such as these. Typically, we only see single birds hiding in the grass where they blend in very well. Seeing this gang out in the open was a nice treat.
It may not be as flamboyant as its big cousin, the Great Blue Heron, but the Little Blue Heron certainly is handsome with a subtle blend of colors.
When they are side by side, it’s pretty easy to distinguish Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs. When alone, such as this Lesser Yellowlegs, their calls help in identification.
“Mother-of-pearl” always comes to mind when the light shines just right on the feathers of a Glossy Ibis.
Further indication that Spring is on the horizon as we found Coastal Plain Willow (Salix caroliniana) with its yellow-green catkins blooming.
One of our most numerous winter warblers is the Yellow-rumped Warbler. Some birders refer to it as a “Butter Butt”, but we are much too refined to call it that.
Yet another tourist, the Black-and-White Warbler, behaves like a Nuthatch as it scurries headlong down a tree branch.
A young Limpkin barely gave us a glance as it hurried across the path to a stand of reeds where there are likely apple snails just waiting to join her for breakfast.
Even more visitors from the north, Palm Warbler gangs were roaming the fields in large numbers. There are two sub-species of this little songbird. The “yellow”, or Eastern, has more yellow on its belly and eyebrow. The “Western”, has a paler belly and eyebrow.
Our most common migratory sparrow is the Savannah Sparrow. Plenty of streaks and usually a yellowish stripe over the eye.
It was SO good to be out in nature again! Thank you all for wishing us well. Hopefully, we’ll get back to a somewhat regular exploration routine.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
* “Back In The Saddle Again”
** “High Flight”
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew –
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
– John Gillespie Magee Jr.
(Yes, we’re late to the party but we hope you are all well into living your best life as a new year brings so many new opportunities. Gini and I are both recuperating well. However, our rehabbers are not ready to release us back into the wild just yet. Soon! In the meantime, please enjoy a few images from a trip we made on September 11, 2024.)
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Many of our posts are from exploring an area just northeast of us within the vast Green Swamp, the Richloam Wildlife Management Area. This tract is one of several which make up the Withlacoochee State Forest. The Withlacoochee River is one of Florida’s major rivers and has its source within the Green Swamp. A smaller tributary, the Little Withlacoochee River runs through the Richloam WMA.
This tract consists of over 58,000 acres where pine flatwoods with scattered oak hammocks, bottomland hardwoods and cypress swamp are the main natural communities. On this date, we were treated to displays of fall flowers and a nice variety of birds and insects.
We hope you enjoy the morning sights as much as we did.
Scanning the open areas early in the morning reveals an abundance of spider webs. This large net was built by a Golden Silk Spider (Trichonephila clavipes). Also known as a Golden Silk Orbweaver, this female has captured some sort of flying insect and is wrapping it in silk. It will then be stored near the center of the web until she’s ready to eat. The male of the species is much, much smaller and keeps his distance until she tells him he is needed. He hopes it will not be as an hors d’oeuvre.
One of our favorite flowers often found at this location is the Skyflower (Hydrolea corymbosa). The incredibly blue blooms really do seem to mirror the bright sky overhead.
At first, a Tufted Titmouse seemed content to watch us as if trying to figure out what we were and whether we might be a threat. Soon, his instincts kicked in and he started the incessant alarm call to alert the neighborhood to our presence. Tattletale.
This is an immature Eastern Lubber Grasshopper (Romalea microptera). Based upon the length of its wings, it will soon be an adult. When mature, these large grasshoppers can be yellow/orange, brown or all black.
Widespread in wet areas, the dimunitve flower of Virginia Buttonweed (Diodia virginiana) appear like small stars scattered throughout the swamp.
Another large spider of the early morning is the Red-femured Spotted Orbweaver (Neoscona domiciliorum). Often, the female will dismantle the web after sunrise and rebuild it at dusk.
Around the edges of the pine flatwoods, trailing vines of Spurred Butterfly Pea (Centrosema virginianum) show off their lovely lavender flowers. This is a host plant for several species of butterfly.
You’re just walking along, enjoying the outdoors and you have that “feeling” someone is watching you. Amazing how these large swamp lizards can blend in as they lay mostly submerged in a small pool. American Alligator.
With fall flowers come fall butterflies. Sleepy Orange (Abaeis nicippe) on Winged Loosestrife (Lythrum alatum).
Once upon a time, the tobacco industry used the leaves of the Vanillaleaf (Carphephorus odoratissimus) to flavor some products, especially pipe tobacco. The advent of artificial flavoring curtailed the harvest of these wildflowers. More for us to enjoy.
It’s always exciting to see a spot of bright color among the browns and subtle greens of the pine flatwoods. Pine Lily (Lilium catesbaei), also known as Southern Red Lily and Catesby’s Lily, provides that excitement each time we spot one.
Part of the large butterfly family of Grass-Skippers, a Southern Broken-Dash (Polites otho) shows a bit more contrast of brown and orange than many of its cousins.
Pink and yellow together make quite a pleasing combination. Cloudless Sulphur (Phoebis sennae) on Purple False Foxglove (Agalinis purpurea).
Velvety leaves and pretty pink flowers don’t really come to mind when thinking of this plant’s name: Tall Elephantsfoot (Elephantopus elatus). Supposedly, the common name stems from the shape of the large basal leaves (which I failed to photograph). I need a better imagination.
A moth which works the day shift. My kind of moth. Not to mention it’s not too bad in the looks department. Ornate Bella Moth (Utetheisa ornatrix).
I know. It’s not yellow. We are not in Carolina. Those crazy botanists. No matter what it’s called, Carolina Yellow-eyed Grass (Xyris caroliniana) is delicate and wonderful to behold. We’ll try to find an actual yellow variety soon. But we still won’t be in Carolina.
One of our smallest dragonfly species, the Little Blue Dragonlet (Erythrodiplax minuscula) remains close to the ground. If they don’t move, good luck in seeing one.
We had a terrific time exploring this section of the state forest. Four weeks after our visit, Hurricane Milton marched across this area with 100+ mph winds and over 20 inches of rain in 24 hours. We are anxious to head out there and see how it is recuperating. Just as soon as we – recuperate.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
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