Reflections

The Green Dragon Earl Plato

“Remember now they Creator in the days of thy youth” The Bible gives much instruction for leading a worthwhile life. The memories of my father and his friend, Bert Miller, well up in my memory as I recall those many days when we rambled Lincoln and Welland counties. As e approach Father’s Day 2008 let us reflect on some of these relationships.
Some memories of your youth are not as clear as others. This one fits into the “fuzzy” recollection.
One Saturday ramble was close to Bert’s home in the north end of Fort Erie. Father, Perc, and I had examined Bert’s skills of grafting at his Highland home. Bert said to my father let’s go to the springs. We parked on Thompson Road and entered the thick, thorny underbrush and headed eastwards. We found a spring bubbling up with the malodorous smell of sulphur, A hundred feet further in from the bend of the creek we found a clear, flowing spring of fresh, cool water. It was so clear you good look far down into the opening. That was many decades ago. Guess what? Thanks to Rob Eberly we found that same bubbling spring and something more.
I had written recently about two Marcy Woods plants, Skunk cabbage and Duckweed. Here deep in the woods next to the bubbling spring was a rare plant. Rob Eberly had found it and I want to share a little about the Green dragon plant.
It is usually a solitary greenish plant a relative of our Jack-in-the-pulpit. Unlike the “Jack” the Green dragon has a small hood. As we looked at it we noticed that the spadix protruded several inches below the hood. This is what is called the “dragon’s tongue.” This solitary plant was about two feet high. We returned in the fall and all that was left of the tall plant were orange, red and green berries. No, I didn’t take any.
Writer’s Note: As with the Jack-in-the-pulpit, the tuberous taproot of this plant can burn the mouth severely if ingested uncooked. I still recall the cries of Jim who had bitten into the tuber of a “Jack” many years ago. Jim had been warned by our scoutmaster. Some of us learn the hard way, eh.
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April in Marcy Woods. Neil Reichelt, nature photographer, and I walked the Lower Trail of these beloved woods. Cool, too cool. At the entrance we listened for the sounds of frogs. Not a sound! We walked in and stopped while Neil took a shot of the two towering Norway spruces. This is where we saw a Southern flying squirrel glide from the top of one tree to the other. Neil took shots all along the way. We will use them for some articles.

We approached Marcy Pond this mid March and stopped and listened. No sounds of frogs at all. What gives? Were we too late? Just a little duckweed had started growing on the north edge of the pond. Birds? The caw of a crow and the very high trill of a Winter wren - that was it. We stopped at the cabin. Several trees had fallen along the Lower trail and cut up so you could walk. However, two trees that had fallen on the Upper Trail were still laying across the pathway. We descended the steps.
Marcy Woods is in a static state now but wait. To you who love nature, Marcy Woods will break out in colorful flowers and heart warming songs in just a little while. Believe me.