A Walk in the Middleville Fen

Yes, I do have a life outside of jazz saxophone and storm chasing, and from time to time I like to let it leak out. While Stormhorn.com focuses on the above two interests, it’s good to break away now and then. So join me on a leisurely stroll through one of my favorite nearby natural areas: the Middleville Fen. Orchids are in the forecast, along with golden evening light filtering through tamaracks, dancing on a dimpled stream, and stretching long rays across meadows of rippling marsh grass.

Early June is the time when the showy ladyslipper, Cypripedium reginae, unfolds its creamy pink-and-white blossoms. Also known as the queen ladyslipper–hence the Latin name reginae–this plant is indeed a regal beauty, presiding in stately splendor over the Michigan wetlands.

Like most wild orchids, it is selective about its haunts–but then, finickiness is the privilege of royalty. Remember the story of “The Princess and the Pea.” You can’t expect a queen to rest her roots just anywhere. However, six miles down the road from me she has found a satisfactory place of repose among the red osier dogwood, shrubby cinquefoil, and marsh asters.

The trail into the Middleville Fen begins at the north edge of a park on the south end of town. Walk in 100 feet or so, look to your right, and you’ll see the queen ladyslipper holding court among the shrubs. Look, admire, but don’t

pick. Like every wild orchid, C. reginae is uncommon and protected in the state of Michigan. For that matter, you’re smart to not even touch her. The hairy leaves and stems are known to cause a nasty rash similar to poison ivy.

The showy ladyslipper is unquestionably the drawing card of the fen in early to mid June. But other, subtler attractions abound: tiny, insectivorous roundleaf sundew plants crowding the stream banks. Feathery tamaracks arching across the trail. In the autumn, fringed gentians nestled pointillistically among the cinquefoil like fragments of September sky.

A few years ago, purple loosestrife threatened to take over this magnificent little jewel of a wetland. But thanks to a tiny beetle with an appetite for loosestrife, released into the fen by a wetland conservation group, the invader appears to have been repelled and the Middleville Fen remains a diverse and beautiful haven for unusual plants and wildlife.

The trail is little more than a quarter-mile long and easy to hike, with a picturesque wooden boardwalk and bridges to keep your feet from getting wet. Bring your camera, a half-hour or so of your time, and an eye for nature. Your sense of wonder will be awakened and rewarded. Especially now, when the queen is in her royal robes.

Winter Has Ended. Welcome to the Spring!

In a few short hours, it will be spring. To be more precise, at 7:44 a.m. Eastern Time, the vernal equinox will occur. In a moment of time, the exact center of that enormous ball of gas we call the Sun will cross Earth’s equator, and in that second, winter 2009 will die and this year’s spring will be born.

To celebrate, I thought I’d post a couple of photos. The first is of a medley of pine cones and twigs, artfully woven together by Mother Nature on a bed of needleleaf duff in a grove of evergreens. The forest floor can render some surprising and sublime collages; this one, covered by the snow until only recently, is one of the finest I’ve seen.

Pine cones turn the ground beneath an evergreen grove into a work of art at a roadside park near Ionia, Michigan.

Pine cones transform the floor of an evergreen grove into a work of art at a roadside park near Ionia, Michigan.

The following is a sunset image that I took Wednesday evening at Shaw Lake, just south of Middleville. The lake is surrounded by an incredible example of a rare wetland known as a prairie fen, inhabited by wild orchids and carnivorous plants. It’s an otherworldly place, truly beautiful, and unfortunately, also terribly abused by fishermen who have enough energy to bring in their bait containers, beer cans, and other trash, but evidently not enough muscle, brains, or strength of character to carry their empties out.

Excuse my mini-rant. The photo is of the next-to-last sunset of winter, 2009. It feels more like a sunrise in a sense, with its promise of lengthening days and the rebirth of the green months.

A plume of cirrus lights the sky at sunset at Shaw Lake in northern Barry County.

A plume of cirrus lights the sky at sunset at Shaw Lake in northern Barry County.