Posts Tagged ‘lake’
Fringed Loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata L.)
In any season, I think it is important to slow down and look closely at the ground to catch a glimpse of the natural diversity occurring there. This time of year, in our snowy climate, there are tracks to find, evergreens to notice, and seeds and berries to discover.
Since I am trained as a botanist, looking down is the norm for me. Often, I fail to look up and see the landscape and horizon. When we first bought our lake property, it was quite a while before I looked across the lake and realised there were farms and a church on the opposite shore!
As a result, I identify strongly with Fringed Loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata L.), a yellow flower we find growing along the lakeshore in early summer. It has a downward-facing flower and can only ‘see’ the ground. Its shy demeanour encourages close inspection, but you have to get your own eyes quite low to see a view of its ‘face’.
Fringed Loosestrife has five yellowish-green petals and a reddish center and blooms from May to July. The petals are fringed and each is tipped with a ‘tooth’.
The genus is called after King Lysimachus of Thrace who, in legend, used the plant to calm a maddened bull. Ciliata comes from the Latin word cilium meaning eyelash, referring to the hairs on the stem of each leaf.
Fringed Loosestrife grows in thickets and along shorelines like ours.
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Fringed Loosestrife
(Lysimachia ciliata L.)
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at the edge of lake are two perspectives:
distant and near
horizon and shore
~
horizon
low hills and orchard
a farm, a steepled church
the flat of the lake
three waterfowl
~
the shore
yellow Loosestrife
Fringed petals
look down
~
red eye studies
flat rock and sticky bedstraw
a wood frog, a feather fern
winterberry petals new-fallen
shoe leather, shoe laces
~
© Jane Tims 2011
mood of the lake
One of the very enjoyable experiences of having a property near the lake is listening to the loons. There is a least one pair of loons on our lake and we see them often. Usually they call a few times at mid-day or in the evening. Their cries are varied, ranging from a laughing tremolo to distinctive and melancholy wails, hoots, and yodels.
We have always been interested in loons and the protection of their habitat. Loons are especially vulnerable to quickly changing water levels and wave action because they build their nests just at water level. `Watch Your Wake` programs help boaters protect loon habitat.
In 1994, we participated briefly in the North American Loon Project. Today there is a similar program, the Canadian Lakes Loon Survey, sponsored by Bird Studies Canada. This is a long term study, using data from volunteers, to assess the health of Canada’s loon population.
We had little time in those days to participate fully, but we did visit Peltoma Lake in southern New Brunswick, to look at the loons living there. My journal entry for our visit to Peltoma Lake reads:
May 1, 1994 Sunday
Trip to Peltoma Lake to see if there are any loons. We are preparing to canoe the lake
about three times this year to make observations. Disappointed at first
as the lake is lined with cottages and we could see no loons.
Then we stopped near a small bay and there they were
– nine black and white beauties! They left the cove as soon as they saw us.
I also wrote a poem about the lake – the mood of the poem suggests it must have been a damp and miserable day.
Last Sunday, we drove out to Peltoma Lake to take some photographs. The loons and most of the people are gone this time of year. Although it was cold, the lake sparkled in the sunlight and was anything but dreary.
Peltoma Lake– Sunbury County
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Peltoma in rain
is a faded black and white photo
layers of misery, thick and still
the lake, the shore, the mist
the thin chill drizzle
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in the coves
the cedar and birch swoon above the water
moved to tears at reflection
the lake broods
over her loons
and the cell-thick pall of algae
smoothed to the shore
~
cottages hug the lake
like campers huddle a fire
cheerless and smoky
pines on the esker reach
blank windows keep watch
for sparkle on waves
back flips from the dock
paddles flashing sun
the day is bleak without answer
~
a muskrat tows a line on the shallows
loons quit the cove
diminish to mist
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Peltoma is scowling
~
© Jane Tims 1994
course of the creek
Our small cabin is near a lake, an offshoot of the Saint John River. We have what some would consider poor access to the lake, since there is a marsh between us and the lake shore edge. But that marsh is a very special place, ever changing and always interesting.
One way it changes, almost daily and certainly seasonally, is with respect to water level. You could say we are downstream of the entire Saint John River, meaning we are receiver of every fluctuation of the water level in the system. The situation is made complex by the influence of a major hydroelectric dam at Mactaquac.
In spring, the river floods, and the marsh is covered by water…
In normal years, the water levels become quite low, and our marsh is high and dry. We can walk on it, to reach the outer shore of the lake…
the green in the foreground is the marsh
In wet years, like this has been, the water stays high and there is a pond between us and the main lake…
On Saturday, I went rowing on the pond in my small red rowboat. I rowed out to the edge of the lake and then followed the deeper waters of the small winding creek back into the marsh as far as I could go without grounding the boat. Last year I could see pumpkinseed sunfish in the creek water, but not this time.
Most of the grasses in the marsh are Spartina pectinata Link., broad-leaf cord-grass, ordinarily associated with salt marshes. Actually, salt water is characteristic of the lower parts of the Saint John River – the salt water wedge extends as high as Washademoak Lake, and the tidal influence is measurable to above Fredericton!
At the outer shore of the pond, where the creek enters the lake, I was surprised and delighted to find a few stems of wild rice (Zizania aquatica L.). This is not native to New Brunswick, but is often planted along shores to attract waterfowl and is now found all along the Saint John River and in many lakes. The grass is distinctive because the pistillate (female) flowers are in a group near the top of the plant while the staminate (male) flowers are on horizontal banches below.
I am an awkward rower. Usually, to improve my control and reduce my speed, I row the boat backward, stern first! In spite of my lack of speed, it is an adventure to be on the water, to become a bit of an explorer. My need to know the ways of the pond reminds me of my attempts to understand the path my life has taken.
characteristics of creek
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clumsy row in the marsh pond
to seek the course of the creek
the strand of water’s flow
to nourish pond define
its shape conduit
to the lake
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a slender S through grass emergent
pondweed and cord-grass vague
deviation from clarity hyaline the interface
of freshwater and salt and pumpkinseed
turn their flat bodies to intercept
the flow find the break in the mat of sedge
narrow simplicity of weed-free bottom
~
search
and find
the inevitable
thread in flow of
story the theme to bind
the words and water into one
~
© Jane Tims 2011
edge of lake
Water is essential to my health, not only because I need it to drink. I also need to see water. Whether it’s the water of a stream, river, lake or ocean, being near water comforts and enlivens me.
I like the transitions too, the places where land and water meet – the seashore, the margins of a brook, or the shoreline of a lake. Birds and other animals love ‘edge’ – places where the food is plentiful and cover is available. We go to the lake shore to watch loons diving for fish, deer wading in the marsh grass and ducks ‘dabbling’ along the shore.
edge of lake
evening edge
~
of lake
a corner torn
from the loaf of hills
red with setting
~
faint click
sun gone
dusk and bread crumbs scattered
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nasal chuckle
from the farther shore
arrows etched on glass
~
blue-winged teal
under wings a glimpse
of summer night
~
greedy for crust and crumbs
~
© Jane Tims 1998
evening edge of lake
deep waters – Clear Lake
As a result of my work, I have been privileged to see some remote, very special places in New Brunswick.
One of these is Clear Lake, a pristine lake in the south west area of the province. To reach Clear Lake, we canoed across Sparks Lake and made the short portage from Sparks to Clear. The portage crosses the narrow divide between two watersheds – Sparks Lake eventually flows into the Magaguadavic River, while Clear Lake is part of the Pocologan River system.
topographic map showing Clear Lake, Horseback Lake and Sparks Lake
Clear Lake is a deep lake with remarkably clear water. Lake depth measurements from the New Brunswick Aquatic Data Warehouse show the maximum measured depth to be 29.6 meters (97 feet), although deeper depths have been recorded. Stones on the bottom of the lake look like they are only centimetres away, but when you put your hand into the water, you quickly realise they are far out of reach.
standing beside Horseback Lake, a small lake just west of Clear Lake, October 1992 (photo by J. O'K.)
Clear Lake
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behind us
dry leaves settle
waves on Sparks and Redrock
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Clear Lake
bottle blue
silences our chatter
reeds and aluminium
whisper
~
we glide
~
between islands
group of seven trees
flung southward
quartz cobbles
rim the shore
dark Porcupine
bristles with conifers
tangled in the surface
plunge eighteen fathoms
to a cove
gathered in arms
of granite and pine
a cabin perched green
shadows peering
over the edge
~
sudden and silent
sunken logs
caressed by crescent suns
cast through ripples
only a touch away
~
through the mirror
shattered
numb fingers search
down
down
~
essence always
out of reach
~
dissolved
in the clear lake
~
Published as: “Clear Lake”, 1999, River Revue 5
(revised)
© Jane Tims
nichepoetryandprose 