Puttyroot orchids (Aplectrum hyemale)

 

The day after our long circuit around Amanda's farm, I was tired, but excited at the prospect of sketching the Puttyroot orchids from life. I'd come across these a few years before on Wildcat Mountain near me, but here was a great opportunity to revisit them and spend more time studying these unusual native orchids.

I got my gear and backpack ready, and set out around nine o'clock, walking on Westminster Road toward the driveway among the woods. Along the way I noticed that there were puddles in the road, and realized it had likely rained overnight--I must have been so tired I'd slept through it, despite the tin roof on the Red House.

The woods were fresh and dewy, just delightful! I looked for the sticks we'd used to mark the location of the three orchids we'd spotted, but I couldn't find them--must be farther up the road. I continued until I reached the end of the wooded section where the hillside opens to a view of the grassy valley--that was too far, I knew this wasn't orchid terrain, so I backtracked, looking more carefully.

Eventually I found the marking sticks with the dried leaf, but there was only one orchid there! What had happened to the others we'd seen? Deer must have eaten them--there was not a trace of them, not even a chewed-off stem! Oh, well, one orchid would do. I set up  my camping stool as close as possible to it, which put it at a crazy angle leaning into the road bank, and got out my old Sennelier watercolor travel set and brushes. 

 

Sketch of Puttyroot orchid

 

I worked happily for about an hour, including the dried leaf in the sketch until my back started the ache from the odd position I was in. I looked up and noticed that it was clouding up and a breeze was stirring the trees overhead, shaking raindrops from the tree canopy--they'd been falling now and then, occasionally wetting my sketchbook. Perhaps it was fixing to rain again? It certainly looked like it. Better to pack up in case it did--I didn't want my sketchbook to get wet!

I packed up and started going back up the driveway, noting the location of the orchid again, and looking for any other plants that I might want to sketch later. I was digging up some garlic mustard along the way when the shower started. Fortunately, I had a rain jacket in my pack, stopped to pull it on and continued back toward the house.

The shower was brief--once on Westminster Road, the trees sheltered me most of the way and by the time I reached the driveway of the Red House, the rain had stopped and the sun was out again, making it quite warm. I had to take off the rain jacket before I reached the house.

At the Red House

 

View of the Red House in Bath County.

It's been a ten days since I arrived at the Red House in Millboro, VA to be Artist-in-Residence for four weeks. Bath County is one of Virginia's western mountain counties that borders with West Virginia and is home to several natural spring resorts that became popular vacation spots in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. In the days before air conditioning, many people flocked to these cooler mountain resorts during the sweltering summers of the DC and Richmond areas. Today the area remains rural and very scenic, popular with hikers and outdoor enthusiasts.

The animals here are my only companions: Moonstar, the horse, and two goats, Brownie and the Old Lady--they live in the sheds behind the house and enjoy an ample and lovely pasture on the hillside.

 

Moonstar and the goats.

Moonstar

 

I arrived on a Sunday afternoon and was greeted by a light shower that kept up all through unloading the car--I unloaded only the items I would need for the night and my groceries, leaving most of the art supplies for the next day. Around evening, the clouds cleared and the sun came out, so I got out a small sketchbook,  palette and brushes to do a quick watercolor of the hillside while the evening light lasted. 

I reheated the leftover spaghetti I'd brought for my first meal and made a salad to go with it but--oh, no! I'd forgotten to bring the wine! And a bunch of other groceries too: dairy, deli cuts, half and half for my tea and such. Oh well, I could survive without those for a few days.

The next morning, Amanda stopped by to look in on me and we chatted for a while. When I told her I'd left my supply of wine at home, she was kind enough to offer to bring me some she had at her house, which she did in the evening when she came by to put out feed for the horse and goats.

My BASNCR friend Judy Thomas, who was the first Artist-in-Residence here last fall and is now assisting Amanda with the program as Art Director, drove up from Richmond on Tuesday morning so she and Amanda could lead me on a hike around the property and show me around. They had found some showy orchids (Galearis spectabilis) in a patch of woods on the property two weeks earlier.

 

Putty root orchid (Aplectrum hyemale)

The Galearis had finished blooming and some flowers were setting seed, but we found several Putty root orchids in the same area of the woods. The soil here seems to be rich in the mycorrhizal fungi that helps native orchids grow and thrive. I wonder what other orchids could be found here?

After our hike, Judy stayed for lunch and we chatted about trails and areas of interest that she had explored during her residency here last October and the workshop she had done here. I too will be offering a workshop, this coming Saturday, so the tips were appreciated.

Judy had planned a three-week trip to the Acadia National Park in Maine for later in the week, and left after lunch to start preparing for that. I planned to go back the next day to sketch the orchid from life, which I did--more on that in the next post.

Hunting for Orchids on Wildcat Mountain

Looking down the trail

Last Sunday I went hiking on Wildcat Mountain, a nature preserve owned and managed by The Nature Conservancy in Virginia. I had read in "Finding Wildflowers in the Washington-Baltimore Area" by Cristol Fleming, Marion Blois Lobstein and Barbara Tufty (a book that has been an invaluable resource), that three species of orchids I had never seen before could be found on Wildcat Mountain: Wister's coralroot, lily-leaved twayblade, and puttyroot. Coming across any of these unusual species for the first time would be exciting, and the need to complete my sketches before the orchid blooming season ended spurred me to try the hike as soon as possible.

The Wildcat Mountain website had very useful information about the trails and a map, both of which I printed and packed along with my sketchpad and gear. The written guide and topographic map revealed that it would be an uphill climb with several switchbacks up to the top of the ridge. From there, the main trail circled along the crest of the hill in a wide loop, at times paralleling old stones walls that marked the boundaries of former farm properties.

As I got out of my car, a loud buzz pervaded the entire mountainside. I asked a couple parked next to me if they knew what the noise was, and they replied that it was the hum of the17-year locusts. I had forgotten that the intermediate brood, as these are called, was due to hatch this spring. The main brood was last seen in 2003 and won't be hatching again until the spring of 2020. We've seen none of the locusts at our house in Front Royal, but my co-workers who live in northern VA tell me they have been hatching in their area.

I started up the trail--the terrain was heavily wooded--huffing and puffing my way to the top where the trail split in two. The map indicated that there was an old farm pond and a spring-house at about the halfway point of the loop. I figured this might be the most likely spot for orchids, so I took the right fork. The trail  paralleled an old stone fence, and further down I noticed small holes on the ground. I deduced these must be insect holes, and sure enough, saw several newly hatched cicadas nearby, drying their wings amid the foliage. Oddly, the buzzing sound was not as pervasive here as on the western slope. The breeze among the treetops seemed to be the only sound.

Swallowtail butterflies, both the yellow and dark, fluttered around me, performing their mating dances. I passed the partially-drained scummy pond and poked around the spring-house, slowing down to look more closely at clumps of vegetation off the side of the trail--nothing. The orchids were not likely to be conveniently located by the side of the  trail as at Thompson Wildlife. How would I ever find them?

I started looking for side trails--perhaps other orchid lovers had been here, found them and left tracks that would be noticeable?  I called out to the orchids in my mind, hoping their inconspicuous flowers would materialize in front of my eyes, and prayed my eyes would become sharp enough to discern them.

Stepping across a rivulet, I saw an unmarked but definite trail going off to the left--and decided to take it. After walking a bit I started having second thoughts--it was not wise to wander off trail in an unfamiliar place, and I should go back. I peered into the shadows of the trees, hoping for a glimpse. And then I spotted it--a small spike in the shadows. Could it be? Getting closer I could see the flowers were half-open, yellow-green with reddish brown, and there was another smaller spike nearby. Yes, this had to be one of the orchids I sought, but which one? Did it matter? The important thing was to sketch it.

Puttyroot orchid (Aplectrum hyemale)

I pulled my sketchpad and pencils out of the pack, laid my parka on the ground and sat down to sketch. The orchid seemed to have no leaves, though I found one dried, heavily veined leaf clinging to the stem, which I collected for identification. How could the leaf become so dry in so short a time, unless it was last year's? I looked for other leaves but found none.
 

Puttyroot leaf

Could this be Wister's coralroot? The flowers were so tiny I took out my magnifying glass to get a closer look. The lip had a few purple spots but so tiny as to be barely noticeable. The flowers were half closed, perhaps a little past their prime. In fact, it was really hard to photograph the entire plant in the dappled light--my camera's settings kept wanting to focus on the background rather than the flowers.

I finally resorted to using my sketchpad as the backdrop to photograph the flower spike so it could stand out from the background.

After compelting my sketch and notes I packed my stuff and poked around a bit more--where there are one or two orchids, more can usually be found nearby, and I spotted another three plants that I had walked by without seeing before. I thought of trying to find one of the other species, but there was no time. I headed back to the main trail and down the mountain, thinking how fortunate I had been to find one of the orchids.

It wasn't till I got home and did an internet search that I realized this was not Wister's coralroot, which is saphrophytic and has no leaves, but puttyroot, Aplectrum hyemale. The dried leaf was the main clue--the leaves of the puttyroot emerge in the fall and live through the winter to die back the following spring. The orchid's common name derives from the fact that in colonial times, a sticky paste could be made from the corms that was used to glue broken pottery. Each plant has two corms connected by a rope-like tissue, hence its other common name of Adam-and-Eve orchid.