My Solo Fern Walk

The Switchback Trail on the North Branch of the Patapsco River.

The weather was glorious this past Friday--cool and breezy--a perfect day for a hike at the McKeldin Area of Pataspco Valley State Park. I wanted to explore a trail new to me, so I parked at the northern end of the park, the opposite side from the Rapids Trail where I usually paint. I had a small watercolor kit in my backpack and the presence of mind to bring along the fern identification book my son David recently gave me. 

What a stroke of luck! The Switchback Trail was lush with ferns--at least six or seven different varieties that I could distinguish, if not identify positively. About a month ago, before I went on a fern walk at Snyder's Landing near Sharpsburg with a group from the Maryland Native Plant Society, I wouldn't have known what to look for (the MNPS has designated 2011 as the "Year of the Fern"). I learned a great deal about ferns and other plants from several expert botanists on that walk, and saw a number of species that are unusual in Maryland.

Maidenhair and other ferns.

 Ferns grow profusely all along this stretch of the Switchback Trail. The common Christmas Fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) was everywhere, Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum pedatum) scattered here and there on the upper slopes grew in huge, thick stands as the hillsides dipped down towards the North Branch of the Patapsco. Another small fern with yellow-green fronds grew in large stands along the path--I brought out my book to identify it, but couldn't be sure. It had a pleasant, if indescribable scent when crushed--could it be the Hay-scented fern (Dennstaedtia punctiloba)? There weren't any spores visible on the back of the fronds, but the vein pattern didn't seem to match the drawing in the book and the fronds seemed too small. The shape of the fronds seemed closer to the New York Fern (Thelypteris noveboracencis), with the pinnae tapering towards both ends, or perhaps the Marsh Fern (Thelypteris palustris).

Looking down carefully for more clues as to the yellow-green fern's identity I spotted some fronds of a different shape--these were more triangular and the lower set of pinnae broadened and pointed downward. Definitely a different species here--this must be the Broad Beech Fern (Phegopteris hexagonoptera).

Broad Beech Fern (Phegopteris hexagonoptera).

Farther down the path I saw another much larger fern growing from a central crown. The arching fronds were about three feet long, but  there were no spores to help identify it. I continued down the trail until I saw more of this same kind of fern. Among these were some with a few fronds that seemed to have the pinnae torn from the middle, with small brown withered leaves hanging down. The interruptions were only on certain fronds, and yet so consistent I felt this must be a clue to the fern's identity.

Interrupted fern (Osmunda claytoniana).

Flipping through the book I came across it--the aptly-named Interrupted Fern (Osmunda claytoniana). The fertile fronds of this variety have the spore-bearing pinnae in several sets along the middle of the frond. These ripen and wither quickly, leaving spaces in the middle of the frond.

Rock with many ferns.

I came across this lovely rock covered and surrounded by ferns--a stand of New York Fern below, Maidenhair ferns and small Polypody ferns (Polypodium virginianum) growing on it. Christmas Ferns were all around, and perhaps some other ferns I don't know about. I should get some botanists to come on a walk here--I bet they'd have a field day!

Polypody Fern (Polypodium virginianum)

Unidentified fern, maybe Spinulose Wood Fern (Dryopteris spinulosa)?

During most of my hike the peaceful sounds of birdsong and breeze were punctuated by rhythmic noise from the gun club's firing range on the other side of the ridge. The ferns began to thin out as the trail started to turn westward; the stream became shallower and the banks pebbly. The spot seemed just right for a sketch, so I  set up my camping stool and got out my watercolors. The light and reflections on the water were wonderful, and I became absorbed in the task of trying to capture the beauty around me.

North Branch Reflections, watercolor, 5" x 10."

 Sometime later I noticed the sun had gone from the stream--a signal it was time to start hiking back. I retraced my steps, taking more photos along the way and prepared for the steep climb back up to my car. What a wonderful, fruitful afternoon!

North Branch Reflections II, watercolor, 10" x 14."

The next day at home I looked at my sketch and photos and decided the val-hues in the sketch weren't quite right--I'd made the sunlight too orangey, and the pebbled shore was too dark a Payne's gray. In my photo the rocks were lighter and almost lavender. I lifted some of the color from the pebbles and background trying to correct it. Still unsatisfied, I started over with a larger watercolor. I used two very different palettes for each, and may go back to try an oil at this same spot. That's going to be quite a long haul with my oil-painting gear, but the location is definitely worth the effort.

You can see all my photos of the area in my Flickr album here.

Late November

Late November, oils on canvasboard, 9" x 12," contact artist for price.

We've had an unusually warm and wet fall this year, but now in late November, it's definitely getting colder. Yesterday's high was only 53 degrees and with the light breeze it felt colder. Bundled up in my thermal suit under several other layers and my winter favorite, a Tilley wool hat with ear and forehead flaps, I set out to explore a new place--the Daniels area of Patapsco Valley State Park a few miles north of my house.

This section of the park is at the bottom of a small valley behind a north-facing hillside and it was only a short distance from the parking area to the river bank for this view. It was surprising to see so many recreational users there: some with canoes or kayaks putting out on the water, a couple of fishermen in hip waders below a small dam, and a party of four on horseback riding down the hill.

After I laid out the paint on my palette, I put on an old pair of gloves to keep my hands warm. The glare from the sun off the water was blinding so I had to keep moving far back to be able to judge the balance of colors and values. A little after three in the afternoon the sun had sunk behind the hill, leaving the small valley in shadow, but my painting was finished and I had managed to stay warm enough to work for a couple of hours. It felt good to be out painting in plein air despite the chill; I think the water and reflections appear convincing.