Boch Hollow and the Prescribed Burn

On March 30th Joan and I returned to Boch Hollow State Nature Preserve, this time parking at the west entrance. This day's hiking complemented and a bit overlapped the previous hike, which started from the east entrance.

After a gentle climb we reached the west pond.

It's not a good idea to go out on that deck.

Passing along the north side of the pond, we heard and then spotted a singing towhee.

Up to the top of the ridge we went, and then down the far side.This is the time of year when the plants that live on the forest floor feast on sunlight for growth and reproduction, before the tree canopy above them fills in. For instance, the rue anemone

and bloodroot blooms

were popping out from the leaf litter. When the bloodroot is fully unfurled, the different sizes of alternate petals gives it a square-ish appearance.

Another pond, not far from the north entrance.

Joan and I tromped on. Here, rue anemone and a spring beauty.

We've become quite adept at spotting the prior-year red-eyed vireo nests.

The land of Boch Hollow once hosted farming homesteads, and the old roads can appear much like the trails at times. The preserve is signed to prevent hikers going astray, both positively,

and negatively.

In the sunlight the blue-green lichen stood out, clinging to the sandstone faces.

Wearing a moss toupée.

The trail wove through the woods.

Ponder this photo for a moment. The tree has sent roots behind the rock outcrop, which emerge from the bottom of the stone face. (Left side.)

We came across another hiker, who warned us that there was a prescribed burn ahead and the trail was closed. Joan and I kept going, and on reaching intersection F, we could see smoke and workers in fluorescent jackets ahead. Time to turn around and pass through G and H to reach the next valley.

In the valley we were amazed to see, just off the trail, the remains of an accipiter, which here in Ohio was likely either a sharp-shinned or or Cooper's hawk. We have no idea what befell it.

The head is missing.

Continuing on this trail, the red one in the map, we reached another checkpoint for the prescribed burn.

We snacked nearby and then began to retrace our steps. Where the trail passed closest to the road, with a creek on the far side, Joan and I were treated to the sounds and sights (through binoculars) of two kingfishers, going through both mating and fishing maneuvers. Then it was time to march back to the west parking area. Somewhat later we came across a yellow-bellied sapsucker.

A task that Joan and I set ourselves on these outings is to pick up trail trash. Some visitors are very thoughtless and discard water bottles, candy wrappers, beer cans, and such either in or close by the trail. We tote out what we can. Today's haul:

Please, if you can carry it in, you can carry it out!

Boch Hollow and the Red-Spotted Newt

On March 22nd Joan and I returned to Boch Hollow State Nature Preserve, an early springtime visit. Our last visit there had been in September, and it had been an even longer time since we started from the eastern trailhead.

What first struck us was the abundance of ground cedar; in some areas it formed a lush carpet above last year's fallen leaves.

Our goal was to thoroughly explore the loops contained in the eastern two-thirds of the preserve. Here we visited the small pioneer cemetery.

As always, we paused and admired sandstone formations both smooth and striated.

Along this ridge the larger trees had not yet budded out.

Not soon after we spotted a red-eyed vireo nest from last season, still secured to its tree.

Another twenty minutes later Joan spotted a golden-crowned kinglet high above us.

The route descended to one of the low valleys between the ridges, where skunk cabbage was emerging.

For an even better look at skunk cabbage, check out the first part of this post.

Just a few minutes away there were spring beauties on display.

Joan and I stopped for our lunch under this rock formation.

This would also be a great place to shelter from a rain squall. Just beyond, we peered down into a system of small ravines.

Who keeps the top of this rock polished?

Just a couple of minutes later, we heard a pair of owls calling to each other, exchanging what we dub "chimp hoots." I brought out my camera but caught only the last few calls, closer to the classic "Who cooks for you?" of the barred owl. We always find these birds exciting.

Then we descended into the next valley.

Joan spotted a puttyroot orchid. It produces a single, white-veined leaf in the fall and stays green throughout the winter. The plant flowers in the spring as the leaf dies away.

We reached the pond that marks the beginning of the last leg down to the east parking area.

We approached the pond cautiously to observe any egg masses, tadpoles, or small fish to which spring might have given a nudge. Tadpoles and small fish there were, but the highlight was several minutes spent tracking a red-spotted newt through our binoculars. Click on the image to enlarge.

Most salamanders do not become land dwellers until maturity, but this remarkable salamander does the opposite. Three or four months after hatching in the water it loses its gills, acquires lungs, and spends two to three years on land in the immature state, called a red eft for its bright red-orange skin. In the third year it changes from orange to olive green, returns to the water, and remains there as a mature red-spotted newt. Observing this fellow was definitely the highlight of our hike.