The sun bathed the water with a golden glow, an osprey twice broke from the shore to flap strongly away, and the impossibly deep croak of a bullfrog provided the background noise. Putting energy into the paddle, my kayak traveled smoothly down the center of the pond, far from the bugs. At the south end, I slowed and turned, exploring my way back along the eastern shore. Not a sign of the beavers tonight...they must prefer the fog. A patch of bunchberry caught my eye. These tiny members of the dogwood family have always appealed to me. Well, there is much to learn about this diminutive plant, which was widely used by native tribes, including the Abnaki, for food and medicinal purposes. The bright red berries, which appear later in the summer, can be eaten raw or made into jelly. As with the flowering dogwood tree that I so love in Virginia, what we think of as the "flower" is actually four large white bracts or modified leaves that surround a cluster of the tiny true flowers. In bunchberry, those small flowers have developed a powerful method of pollination. Each has four petals that begin life tightly closed. When triggered by wind or the touch of an insect, the petals explode open, shooting pollen into the wind or showering the insect. Look closely at my photo. The flowers with the black dots have already opened; the white ones are still tightly shut, biding their time. This pollen explosion make bunchberry the fastest plant on the planet.
During my summer of paddling, I am sure I will find many ways to amuse myself. Tonight the setting sun sent its last rays against the east shore, creating a shadow that travelled along with me quite clearly, moving across the palette of rocks, ferns, and trees. Can you see the shadow paddler on the rock?
The sun bathed the water with a golden glow, an osprey twice broke from the shore to flap strongly away, and the impossibly deep croak of a bullfrog provided the background noise. Putting energy into the paddle, my kayak traveled smoothly down the center of the pond, far from the bugs. At the south end, I slowed and turned, exploring my way back along the eastern shore. Not a sign of the beavers tonight...they must prefer the fog. A patch of bunchberry caught my eye. These tiny members of the dogwood family have always appealed to me. Well, there is much to learn about this diminutive plant, which was widely used by native tribes, including the Abnaki, for food and medicinal purposes. The bright red berries, which appear later in the summer, can be eaten raw or made into jelly. As with the flowering dogwood tree that I so love in Virginia, what we think of as the "flower" is actually four large white bracts or modified leaves that surround a cluster of the tiny true flowers. In bunchberry, those small flowers have developed a powerful method of pollination. Each has four petals that begin life tightly closed. When triggered by wind or the touch of an insect, the petals explode open, shooting pollen into the wind or showering the insect. Look closely at my photo. The flowers with the black dots have already opened; the white ones are still tightly shut, biding their time. This pollen explosion make bunchberry the fastest plant on the planet.
During my summer of paddling, I am sure I will find many ways to amuse myself. Tonight the setting sun sent its last rays against the east shore, creating a shadow that travelled along with me quite clearly, moving across the palette of rocks, ferns, and trees. Can you see the shadow paddler on the rock? 
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