What's Blooming in the Bluegrass: Snapshot in Purple & Yellow

It's time once again for me to grace the internet with my mediocre photography! It's been a dry summer so far in the wild lands of Kentucky, but that hasn't stopped the flowers from blooming. Here's the highlights (so I have no excuse not to recognize them when I see them again next year).

This awesome little flower of fields and roadsides is Coreopsis tinctoria. It's got an obnoxious amount of common names, most of them some variation of tickseed, coreopsis or calliopsis; one of these, Dyer's Coreopsis, comes from its use as a reddish dye by some Native American tribes. 

Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta)

The ornamentally-named Everlasting Pea, Laythrus latifolius. Unfortunately it's an introduced species, but it makes quite a show with those hot pink blossoms and winged stem.

Purple Coneflower  (Echinacea purpurea) and friend

Passiflora incarnata, Purple Passionflower. I don't know what's going on with this plant. It looks like three different kinds of flowers that tried to smash together into one, or something from Dr. Seuss. 

Bonus! Who doesn't love some good fungus? Mushrooms and fungus are something I really struggle with identifying, so when I find flashy ones like this it gives me the warm fuzzies. On the left is a type of Bird's Nest Fungus growing on a bed of mulch, one of its preferred habitats. On the right is Xylaria polymorpha, picturesquely known as "Dead Man's Fingers." It's variable in appearance but always pretty unattractive (sorry fungus). 

Camp Nelson, Kentucky: I came here for the birds, but look at all this history

If you get to play in the woods for a job, what do you do on days off? Play in the grasslands, of course. Accordingly this past week I hied myself to the wilds of Jessamine County, Kentucky to explore Camp Nelson Civil War Heritage Park. A solid thirty-minute drive south of Lexington, it took me even longer when my so-called smart phone got a little confused about what direction we should be going in.

Thanks Siri! I guess the sign did say "No Outlet."

After you find it, it's shockingly obvious. The giant sign and big iron gates help. The park itself is over 500 acres of hiking trails, but as you pull up you have the option of taking a tour of the old officer's quarters, or stopping by the visitor's center, a barnlike structure where you can go for all your brochure and fake Civil War hat needs. I went in and proceeded to get educated.

Originally founded in 1863 to supply Union efforts in Tennessee, parts of Kentucky and Virginia, Camp Nelson eventually became one of the biggest recruiting and training depots for African Americans escaping slavery to join the Union Army. It also housed African American refugees as well as the families of Union soldiers from east Tennessee trying to escape Confederate occupation. The site was originally chosen because, and I shall quote from Capt. T. E. Hall, Chief Quartermaster, as written in the informational brochure: "It is naturally fortified on three sides by the [Kentucky] river and [Hickman] creek, the cliffs of which average four hundred feet high and perpendicular...Every approach to the camp is commanded by mounted guns and...it is one of the most impregnable points in the country."

Not much is left and it's hard to imagine that it was once a giant encampment apparently encircled by some heavy artillery. In spite of the guns, however, Camp Nelson never saw any action. The closest it came was the summer of 1863 when General John Hunt Morgan passed through the area, sacking things as he went. Camp Nelson hunkered down for combat but General Morgan passed by on his way farther north, up to no good as usual.

There's a twenty-minute informational video that hits the high points of the park history, and the museum gives you an idea of what day-to-day life at Camp Nelson would have looked like. It's both informative and slightly creepy as you see.

Reproduction of quartermaster's depot

Soldiers

Hospital ward

Refugee shanty

I'm just not very comfortable with mannequins.

As soon as I walked out past the buildings, I saw the best thing I've seen in Kentucky in a long time.

LOOK AT ALL THIS GRASS!

It's not that I have anything against woods and hollers, but there's just something special about acres and acres of open land that hasn't been attacked by a lawn mower. Although it's mostly timothy and other man-introduced grasses, if you squint you can sort of imagine it looking like the oak savannas that occurred naturally across Kentucky hundreds of years ago. The first bird to greet me at the trail head was a singing Orchard Oriole, a first for this year. A few dozen yards in and meadowlarks started exploding out of the tall grass like popcorn. It's hard to imagine, standing in the middle of the field and going deaf from the meadowlarks, but according to a nearby marker this is the mass burial place of Camp Nelson refugees who succumbed to disease and poor conditions. Over 200 Union solders were also buried at "Graveyard One" but were later removed to the Camp Nelson National Cemetery down the road.

Once I got used to the clamor of meadowlarks, I picked up on the sound of some very irritated nesting Bobolinks as well as a Grasshopper Sparrow's thin buzz. Judging by the noise bobwhites were abundant, but none of them seemed inclined to show themselves. After soaking in the grassland birds for a while I made my way toward the far side of the park where, according to the map, old stone fortifications overlooked the valley of Hickman Creek. I should mention that up till that point the trails were very wide mowed paths, shorts and sandals friendly. As soon as I entered the wooden portion of the park I realized that such luxuries could no longer be expected (after all, trees are harder to mow over). But if there's one thing that I really took away from my college education it's that trails are for sissies.

See that trail? Neither do I.

Besides, up until that point all the important historical landmarks had been marked by big yellow flags, and how hard could those be to find? Parks are always covered in helpful signage to help the confused public understand how to navigate them. Presently I came upon this helpful sign:

This way to Union soldiers 

The woods were very dense but I could approximately orient myself by the sound of Hickman Creek coming from the valley to my left. Around three hundred mosquito bites later, when I was beginning to have the feeling of having taken a wrong turn, but was soon reassured by the presence of another informative sign:

Still haven't found those Union soldiers? Keep going.

After a few hundred miles with no Union soldiers or signs thereof, I was forced to assume that I'd missed a turn and walked straight off the map. I backtracked all the way back out to where I had entered the woods. In spite of the fact that I was doing some serious speedwalking, I was able to nab the usual woodland suspects--wood-pewee, a couple species of woodpecker, a pair of hen turkeys, Red and White-eyed Vireos, and a few more. A doe flushed out of the woods and there were plenty of coyote and raccoon tracks. 

There's a lot more to explore and I'm sure I'll be heading back out to Camp Nelson to tour the officer's house and find the Hickman Creek fortifications without getting lost in the wilderness of Jessamine County. Or I might just go sit in the middle of the timothy and listen to meadowlarks and pretend it's a prairie.

Then go home and pick off ticks for five hours.

What's Blooming in the Bluegrass

Disclaimer: This is mostly for my own reference, since every spring I seem to forget all my flowers and have to relearn them. That being said, here's a far-from-exhaustive roundup of late spring wildflowers in the Bluegrass (pictures are from McConnell Springs Park and Raven Run Nature Sanctuary in Lexington, KY).

Appendaged Waterleaf

Carolina Horsenettle (Solanum carolinense). In spite of the name, this awesome little plant is actually a member of the nightshade family so don't eat it because it will screw you up.

Ohio Spiderwort (Tradescantia ohioensis)

Golden Ragwort (Packerea aurea) keeping its feet wet

Coreopsis hiding out in a stand of switchgrass.

A rainy woodland clearing full of Oxeye Daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare)

Everyone's favorite, Japanese Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica). This native of eastern Asia seems to have taken over most of Kentucky.

Motherwort  (Leonurus cardiaca) 

Good old Rosa multiflora. I'm used to Ohio, where this species overwhelms everything it touches with its spiny little vines of pure evilness, but down here Multiflora Rose doesn't seem to have attained the same status as a major invasive.

A shady patch of bindweed (Convolvulus arvensis)

This fantastically awesome creature is our native Kentucky cactus, the Eastern Prickly Pear or Indian Fig (Opuntia humifusa). 

Let's take another look at that cactus, because it's just way too awesome not to.

Blue False Indigo (Baptisia australis) and skipper butterfly

There's lots more blooming but we're starting to see more summer flowers now, so expect Part II, "Asters I Can't Identify," sometime in the future.

iLike My iPhone (iThink)

Hiding place in a drystone fence (taken with iPhone)

It's been getting on a year since I switched from a caveman cell phone to a smart phone and I can finally begin to say, with some level of confidence, that I sort of understand how it works. I can take pictures (and put filters on them); I can theoretically download Minecraft; Facebook and eBird, with their streaming updates of rare birds, are now available everywhere I go. Siri is always there to guide me to the nearest gas station or coffee place; getting lost, which used to be a sort of ritual for my roadtrips, is now a thing of the past.

My iPhone has come in handy in the great outdoors, too. My previous phone took pictures any Bigfoot hunter would be proud of; the iPhone, while not up to snuff with a "real" camera, definitely does a passable job. Combined with binoculars or a tripod it could even be used to document distant or moving targets like birds.

Bullfrog, unedited picture with iPhone through binoculars

And unlike a true camera, you almost always have your cell phone handy, so no missed photo opportunities. (For the sake of honesty I feel like I should admit that all my photos are iPhone photos. I have future plans to win the lottery and outfit myself in National Geographic photographer equipment, but until then, the phone camera is a bit cheaper.)

It's got other advantages too. The first app I downloaded was the Cornell Lab of Ornithology's free bird ID app, Merlin. Set up like a simplified field guide, you can choose to either browse the 350 species included or have the app guide you through a series of questions to help you decide on the identity of an unknown bird. Merlin's weak point is the restrictive species list (looking for Empidonax flycatchers? Better hope the old Sibley is on hand). Its strong points are that it's FREE and includes 800+ audio records of songs and calls, very handy for those times in the field when you know it's a warbler but you just can't remember which one. And the iPhone's usefulness as a hiking partner doesn't stop there. Can't figure out what that flower is? Hit up Google Images. Directionally challenged and forgot your compass at home? There's an app for that. It even calls people, so if you fall and break your legs you can call 911. 

So I guess when it really comes down the wire, iDo like my iPhone--for the most part. I realize that my adoption of the wonders of technology isn't nearly extensive as it could be, but I do occasionally have the nagging feeling that my 12-year-old self would be very disappointed in me. My tendencies were towards the Luddite, partly due to financial constrains and partly because did Daniel Boone have an iPhone? Did Audubon? Did Roger Tory Peterson, for pete's sake? I learned my birds with the aid of the 1980s edition of Peterson and a pair of binoculars about as effective as looking through a couple of trash cans taped together, and about the same size. My views have mellowed since then; I've come to realize that Audubon didn't have an iPhone not because he was above such things, but because the technological advances of his time limited him to a shotgun. Still, I feel a faint twinge of guilt at the words of Aldo Leopold: "Civilization has so cluttered this elemental man-earth relationship with gadgets and middlemen that awareness of it is growing dim," he writes. "We fancy that industry supports us, forgetting what supports industry." My iPhone still comes with me into the woods--but I do make an attempt to be a little less trigger happy with Google Images.

IPhone photo of foxglove beardtongue

“.” 

Get Your History On @ the Lexington Cemetery

Today's Adventure Time took place in the wilds of the Lexington Cemetery and Arboretum in Lexington, Kentucky. Dating back to 1849 (allegedly to deal with high mortality from a cholera epidemic going on at the time), Lex Cem is on the National Register of Historic Places and worth a visit from anyone passing through the Bluegrass.

My visits to the cemetery are mostly for birding purposes; it's also a 170-acre arboretum and a local birding hotspot, especially during migration when it provides a safe haven from urban sprawl for migrants passing through. According to eBird, around 150 different species have been seen at the park. With the weather at sauna-like levels of heat and humidity the birds were pretty quiet today; the most exciting find was my first-of-year Scarlet Tanager.

Even though the birding was slow, there's plenty of other stuff to see--Lex Cem has enough to hold the interest of any history buff or connoisseur of the grotesque and Gothic. It's the final resting place of, most famously, statesman and orator Henry Clay, and includes a massive monument where he and his wife are buried (it's literally so tall you can't really get a good look at it).  Directly next to the Clays' tomb is a huge American basswood, which nearby signage claims is the largest basswood in the United States.

Sharing the cemetery with Union soldiers as well as fellow Confederates is General John Hunt Morgan of Morgan's Raid fame. Morgan and his "Calico Raiders" went farther north into Yankee territory than any other Confederate force during the Civil War. I spent a lot of years in southern Ohio counties scattered with historical markers indicating Morgan had passed that way, so after moving to Lexington I felt obligated to go visit the burial place of the general who had (way back in 1863) sacked my former stompin grounds.

Evidently other people like to visit as well. On previous visits I've found flowers, little rock stacks, keychains and a passive-aggressive Union flag. 

And of course there's enough statuary to satisfy the morbid Victorian in all of us:

 For those with paranormal interests, the mausoleum has the obligatory dark shadows, screams, and cold spots. And if none of that stuff interests you and you just like fuzzy adorable things, I'm pretty sure Lex Cem has the highest chipmunk-per-acre concentration in all of Lexington.