May As Well Be June


About 8:30 am today, walking to Cortelyou to see what's at the farmers' market. I chose a different route for the trip south -I stayed my side of CIA. From full concrete yards to an interzone full of gardening misdirections, I inhaled the scent of hose water on hot mornings. I walked lazily, camera in hand because there's always something that catches my eye. I hesitated, though, this morning to photograph -same laziness? The breeze was coming in off the ocean, the way it can on summer mornings. The interzone, part concrete -part yard and garden gave way to full on yards. My camera was unleashed.

This shade "garden" adjoins a long abandoned house and yard.

Misstep?

I turned left, looking for a pizza place that's supposed to be good. I didn't find it. I head for the farmer's market. Along the way I notice Vox Pop, the coffee shop, has closed due to owed back taxes -they're taking donations. Today's market had more flowering plants than vegetables. No ramps, but youngions and garlic greens. I bought three bunches for $7. I bought some boneless turkey thigh at Di Paola and a scone from the baker -I was hungry. Then I made my way north, back to my house, via Ditmas Park.

Its awfully lush out there, for May two. May as well be June.

But the pleasantness of Ditmas Park's sidewalk and strips gave way to all kinds of detritus. Left out on an over-warm spring night -unfinished meals in food containers, human feces and wipe, and this bag which startled me because I thought there was an animal inside.

But then there was this. Creepy, or just a kids night out on the strip, cut short by bedtime?


I moved on.

Porch-top container garden.

Too much, overwhelming.

While I generally don't like shrubs for strip plantings, I do like rugosas and their heady scent.

Shrub sculpting -where yew meet azalea.

What I wouldn't give for a small, lush lawn, forget this huge lawn, for my bare feet on a warm day like today. After, bbq.

My own front yard garden is June lush, despite it being May.


Al Swearengen's Nursery




As you read this, I'm doing something new. Possibly against my better judgement and possibly against Larry's better judgement, I will begin working at J&L nursery one day a week. Ostensibly as a salesperson. Larry asked me a week ago after a young couple, in my opinion, didn't want to deal with him. They turned to me when he asked them what they were looking for. Of course, I didn't work there, but I helped them anyway. Its lore that whenever I am shopping at a nursery, people turn to me for help. I must look the part.

Larry's a bit scary, old brooklyn, coarse. He's a bit like Ian McShane's Al Swearengen, the foul mouthed, sometimes softhearted, character of the HBO series Deadwood (which I sorely miss). I don't know how well I'll handle the reality of working for him. Its been 21 years since I worked at a nursery, or retail at that. Suddenly I need to know all the plants Larry carries. Its not about what I like anymore, but about what sells -or what Larry wants to sell. My opinions will need to be channeled. Larry thinks Cherry Laurels are great. They take dry shade, or shade, or sun -a plus in our shady or sunny yards. Yet they grow fast, tall, they can be aggressive. I'll need to read the customer. Larry repeats, mantra-like, not to marry the customer. I'll need to reinforce that I work one day a week. I have a job, already. And the new studio.

What I do like is the opportunity to speak directly to people about plants, my didactic self channeled into a paying (however little) opportunity. And its around the corner. I like that. Enormously. The best commute. I've joined the horticulture industry. At least for one season. And then we'll see.


Kiwi Salad




Wow, Kiwis are cheap -often four for a dollar. I love the tartness and the crunch of the tiny seeds. All the Kiwis I've been getting lately are from Italy, a top producer of Kiwifruit. Although they are grown in every hemisphere, Kiwi are native to regions of China.

I threw together a salad of mixed greens with a slight amount of lemon and olive oil. Then I cut up some Parmigiano-Reggiano and tossed that on top. Then sliced some kiwi and tossed that on too. I was pleased.


Tree Day Brings All Kinds of Excitement



I was taking some garden pictures, a neighbor passed and stopped to talk about his squirrels digging in his vegetable patch. Then this truck pulled up -knowing instantly what was about to happen. The ensuing traffic jam and noise, brought everyone out of their homes like those scenes in movies when the giant alien ship descends over the city. What's happening? Trees, my friends, trees.

I was right about the Zelkova serrata. We got three of them -an allee or avenue I suppose. This was all going to happen quite fast -first the placement. Notice telephone poles -lower right.

The hubbub brought the neighbors out past their stoops. Soon they were collecting on my corner -the center of all garden variety chatter in the quadrant (what I call our isolated 4 blocks).

It certainly brought out my landlord, to the right, concerned mostly about the day he will break that third tree with his old telephone poles. I insisted that it was not me who asked for these trees (to stem quiet neighbor speculation), although I was visibly excited by their arrival.

First, break up the sidewalk. I was happy to see that they were using two full squares, about 4 x 8 feet for the tree pits. Especially after seeing the presentation on this at the BBG a month ago. Our soil underneath the concrete sidewalk was relatively soft and dark -I was surprised. My landlord was upset about the cracking of the sidewalk (which was already cracked), but I suppose about the lifting and cracking to come as well. If you are getting sidewalk trees and/or redoing your sidewalk, see Dr. Bassuk's presentation.

The crowd cleared as the trucks moved on. The trees are tall, which pleases me as I am not much for low-limbed trees on the sidewalks. They appeared in good health, with no scars on the trunks. The tops were rather tangled though and stuck in their roped position. I'll need a ladder to untangle them.

I was concerned that they would leave the metal cage on - but they clipped the upper portion, leaving the lower portion intact. Burlap and twine was cut, lower portion intact.

Then the compost truck came, filling all the holes with about two cubic yards of soil and adding some rather stenchy cedar bark to top the pits off.

Tree on the right.

Tree on the left fears the telephone pole truck. Notice older Zelkova across the street, left side. Omitted: tree in the middle.

Shade cast next morning on the already late day shade location of the front yard.

Shade cast on the early morning shade part of the front yard garden.

Most of my perennials in the front yard are adapted to a long day of sun. Some will be thankful for the growing amount of shade over the coming years. Some will need to be moved to a sunnier locale after 5 - 7 years. The Zelkovas planted across the street have been around for about 10 years. They have reached nearly 18 feet tall and about as wide. They cast a medium dense shadow. They have a very wide v-shaped underside, having good reach all the way to the houses nearby. My garden now has a new directive. But the neighborhood too.

The beautification the trees bring gets neighbors talking about "eyesores." There's one I hear much about, as if I have any say in the matter (poles). In fact, so many neighbors came out yesterday that even the density of stray cats and who feeds them was discussed. With that, we may approach a compromise attempt to limit their numbers. One of the tree planting supervisors mentioned a group that may help spay and neuter with neighborhood participation after he saw 9 stray cats in a neighbor's driveway. We're looking into it.


The Other Day


This has been a funny spring. Crocus late, Cherries early. I pictured this on Tuesday last week after I met my cousin, once removed (my father's cousin). He found me online, via the NY Times article about lead in the garden. Before that, I did not exist to him, and afterward he had a cousin with the same last name as he. He is a commercial painter in San Francisco and just received his lead abatement license which was the reason he was on the internet looking up lead. What he found was an article that featured someone with his last, and uncommon, name. He googled me, found my art site, then emailed me.

On Tuesday he, his wife and daughter met me near Pratt at a place called Tillies. His daughter happens to be attending Pratt for writing. We spoke for about an hour, going over the basics which is a strange, yet pleasant experience. What do you do? Do you know so and so? It turns out he went to my undergraduate school in the late sixties -a funny connection. Of course, the whole time I thought it would make even more sense for my cousin to be talking with my father, who is his first cousin and probably remembers all the family we have in common.

I had to run because I was guest critiquing a graduate painting class that day at Pratt. We walked together toward the campus, and I look down at the blue stone sidewalk and this object is staring up at me. Instinctively I grab it, throw it in my bag. We promised to keep in touch. The NY Times article is the gift that keeps on giving. Last summer after my artist talk at the Wilton library, I mentioned the blog to a group that had gathered around. Instantly I was recognized as the guy from the Times article. Times got reach.

The kitschy brass lamp, oxidizing toward blue-green, in its temporary home amongst the aconitum.


Three Stories


On Tuesday nights I watch PBS: Nova, Frontline, and Independent Lens. Tonight, Nova was about the influence of emotion on economic decisions and the collapse of 2008. Frontline looked into the growing trend of parents denying vaccines for their children. Independent Lens was about the Zaballeen in Cairo, Egypt -they were recycling 80 percent of Cairo's trash (which they consider a gift) until foreign companies came in to begin collecting and landfilling the trash.

I have no wise words or thoughts, but I was rather frustrated with the defiant mothers and cheering for the Zaballeen. Overly rational economists can simply go to hell.

Next weeks Nova is about Mt. St. Helens waking up. I went there several times when I lived in Portland, Oregon. Fascinating landscape. Frontline looks into for profit universities and Wall Street.


As I Rush On By



I was rushing from the studio this afternoon to make the last few minutes of the Sharpe Foundation open studios where I knew a few of the artists. As I rushed from the B37's last stop on Court and Livingston, I surprised myself -I was taken aback by the tulips! I rarely stop for a tulip, and certainly not when in a rush.

The masses were really appealing, and they floated in a way like masses of poppies on long stems. Nearby the old Borough Hall there were very long-stemmed whites with very long petals and pointy tips -very sexy tulips. They are all closed for the wet and cloudy weather and that affect is why I found them so appealing, as well as the saturated daubs of color floating above the greens. I might say that never before have I enjoyed simple tulips so much.

If my camera had not been acting up, and had I not been in a rush, more photos you'd find. I'm getting the E18 error -the infamous Canon error code for "something is jammed in your lens and it can't open or close all the way."

My Canon, the A80 I have had since 2004, has served me well, and I might add for two primary reasons: the swivel screen and the 1/1.7 sensor. Most common compacts these days, especially those with more than a 5x optical zoom, have a ccd sensor that is 1/2 as large as that little 1/1.7 sensor in my A80. The 1/2.3 sensor size is part of what allows current cameras to have their extreme zoom.

My A80 has only a 3x optical zoom, in use here. I am blown away by the green of spring every year. I never expect it, and pow! Suddenly I am exiting the subway and the grass is tall, the honeysuckle vine on the fence and the plane trees have leafed out -all is green in the world.


Camp Hero, Part 3



This is the final installment in the Camp Hero trilogy -The Beachhead.

Part 1-The Cliffs
Part 2 -The Woods.


On our way down to the beach, we passed these hillsides. I noticed that the soil was eroding rapidly around the base of the trees -they look the way kids drawings do, cylinders meet soil.

Turns out, these hills are the batteries. This is Battery 113. This entry is large enough for a truck to drive into. Check out the writing on the wall.

Its says "Closed To Public." Ha! No kidding. Do not enter? It's solid concrete. Would be cool if you could go inside though. On the opposite side, holes and filled holes.

This is where the gun would have been.

The lighthouse from the bluff. We are headed for the light patch just below the light.

The thicket. I have memories of playing in these as a kid. It is hot in there. Despite the 60 degree temps, it felt more like 90 on the thicket trail -no cool breezes make it in. The trail is a hardpack mixture of clay and white sand and follows the Paumanok Path.

The rocky shore.

A gradation of stones, sized by the action of the waves.

Pebbles.

Lichen on granite.

Mollusk.

Crab. Dead.

Approaching the bluff, it is covered in salt and barren of plants. The beach runs up to its base.

Up close I see these varying soil horizons. Sand and rock, clay, clay mixtures.

I smeared the clay to reveal its distinctive character.

In another area, sandy loam with aggregate underneath, above a reddish hard crust.

The sandy loam swirls around the clay, showing the forces that deposited these layers.

The groundwater springs from the cliff side, eroding the sandy layers above and beneath the layers of clay.


Recent fall.

Contemplation.



How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Energy Business



A few days ago I emailed letters filled with my thoughts on the expansion of gas drilling in NYS to all my NYS elected representatives (find links to yours here). So far I have had an email exchange with Assemblyman James Brennan, who sponsored this bill in the NYS legislature. The summary:


"Establishes a moratorium on the issuance of permits for the drilling of wells and prohibits drilling within five miles of the New York city water supply infrastructure."

A good start, hoping that "water supply infrastructure" means the entire watershed and then another 5 mile radius out. This bill has been introduced, but not passed.

I have not heard from Gov. Paterson's office, nor the DEC commissioner, nor from my state senator, Eric Adams. But I suppose I can wait a little longer to hear their positions on this issue.

The New York Times published this article on April 21 (Thanks Marie!) suggesting that the newly adopted New York State DEC regulations (which permit drilling) would not apply within the watershed, suggesting that within the NYC watershed, there will be no drilling. Starting to get confused?

Here's a way to clear it up -NYC has power, money, and influence and we're saying not in our back yard. But, what we should be saying is, not in NYS. Because if the risk of pollution is too high for NYC folks, then it should be the standard for all our citizens. If the risk is too high for one Manhattan, Bronx, Queens, or Brooklyn resident, then it is too high for one resident of Chenango, Broome, Tioga, Allegheny, Delaware or any other of our counties. I'm setting the bar high here folks.


Post Script:
I spoke to a resident of upstate NY who said he was rather in favor of drilling, because he would like the opportunity to make some money on his acreage. Fair enough, its been hard times for many upstaters for decades. Problem is this: once you have your 100K, what will it do for you? New truck, fix the roof, cruise? Can you drink or bathe in it? He says, "well -if the land or water becomes polluted, I will sell and move away." But who will want to buy in? After all, many people looking at acreage do so for farming, animal husbandry, or in some instances, just the beauties of a clean, healthy natural environment.

It's a deal with the devil, this "economic benefit." It has little to no long term benefits. In fact, it might even hurt in the long run. Of course, there are the tax gains for the state and local coffers in the short term, and the niche economic benefits for the operations and support business that revolve around gas extraction and delivery. At least until the wells are all used up. Then what? So, really -how many jobs are we talking about for upstaters? Give me a number and make sure those are not positions to be filled by those coming from other states where these practices and skill sets are more common.

Of course, read Rita McConnell, spokesperson for the industry. She'll tell you a different story. I discovered and suffered her misdirection on one NY Times article comment board. In her post Money, Its a Gas she tells us why NYers and Philadelphians are against Marcellus Shale gas drilling expansion. Incidentally her blog name, "Flowback," is an oilfield term: "The process of allowing fluids to flow from the well following a treatment, either in preparation for a subsequent phase of treatment or in preparation for cleanup and returning the well to production." Dangerously close to "Blowback," which of course means unintended negative consequences.

Here is a highly polished website, called EnergyInDepth, that Ms. McConnell often quotes from in her twittering (yep, twittering about gas). Oy.

And now, in this continual flow of google searches, Times arcticles, and thoughts, I have one more to add: If I were an upstate county landholder and I chose not to sign leases with the gas companies, yet any one or all of my neighbors did, then where would me and my freedom be? Surrounded by gas wells where soil, air, and water care little for our funny geo-political boundaries. Stuck in a gas field, maybe not able to sell or move -slave to the dollar that everyone is capable of being bought with. Including me, so one must be strong and convincing.




Why NYC Gardeners Should Care About Fracking




I've reported on this once before, last summer, and much of what I linked to then remains the same. As I stated the last time, I do not consider myself alarmist, or overly emotional about most issues. Yet I believe that this issue, the issue of whether or not New York State should even allow natural gas drilling with hydraulic fracturing will be, will be, the environmental battle of the decade. Or it should be.

The extent of the Marcellus gas range in New York State

I went to a symposium on this issue at Cooper Union on Thursday night. I heard a few cool scientific heads speak, including Dr. Theo Colborn, who gave a lengthy presentation on the chemicals involved in the hydraulic fracturing process.

NYC Water Supply

A few facts for the people of New York City:
  • Ninety percent of our water comes from the Catskill and Delaware watersheds.
  • It is virtually unfiltered.
  • If it was filtered, it wouldn't be filtered for the chemicals used in fracking.
  • The Safe Drinking Water Act or Clean Water Act DOES NOT cover oil and gas drilling or production. Repeat it to your self. It's true.
  • Hundreds of chemicals are used in the hydraulic fracturing (fracking) process.
  • About 500 are known to the public, hundreds more are a mystery (proprietary) to the public.
  • These chemicals are injected under extremely high pressure into the ground or are used around the well pad and retainment ponds.
  • The gas wells will collectively use billions of gallons of water for drilling and pumping operations. They simply pump the water from local streams and rivers into tanker trucks.
  • The waste cocktail, known as "brine" because it is saltier than sea water, is usually left to evaporate and/or dumped at local municipal sewage plants never designed for much more than the municipal waste stream.
  • DEC tests show extremely high radioactivity in the NYS fracking brine and sludge.
  • One way or the other this water-chemical cocktail will migrate into the water table and our water supply.
My questions for New York City gardeners are:

Will you water your plants with: benzene, ethylbenzene, toluene, xylene, or naphthalene?
Will you wash your soiled hands with diesel fuel, methanol, formaldehyde, ethylene glycol, glycol ethers, hydrochloric acid, or sodium hydroxide?

You will because these will be in our water.


See this interview on NOW from PBS. See the Endocrine Disruption website for the health effects of many of the known chemicals used in fracking. Article in Scientific American about natural gas drilling. Splashdown PA is an in-depth Pennsylvania blog on the issue. You could sign this letter. Want to see what one of our watershed counties might look like in the near future -take a look at Bradford County, PA, adjacent to the NY border.

Inform yourself, New Yorker. Read the opposing points of view.

The OTHER SIDE can be read here. Another position can be read here.

There is so much information on the internet regarding easterners experience with fracking, you can be easily overwhelmed. It's pretty simply to me though. Let's call our representatives and tell them that even in these billion dollar shortfall budgetary years, we cannot accept this risk to our water and health for a few more tax bucks in the state coffer.

  • Write Governor Paterson -here's the link.
  • Use this handy dandy link to find your state senator, assemblyperson, and U.S. House Rep.
  • Then email your assemblyperson after finding their email here.
  • Find your state senator and write them here.
  • And, after all that, write Pete Grannis, Commisioner of the NYS DEC -you guessed it -here.
You could also write these guys:
780 Third Avenue, Suite 2601, New York, New York 10017 Tel. (212) 688-6262

Brine being punped into the on-site pond.



Gardens Are Not Absolute, Neither Is Liberty To Do So



Yesterday I was watering the plants -you know, the heat. My landlord comes ambling by and wonders aloud about my "activity" in the side yard. He rounds the corner, complains heartily about the "third" tree the city has cut the sidewalk for, after all two are enough he says. (Read, my telephone poles go here and that third tree is in the way).

He then says he wants to pull the stump out from the side yard. I say, just leave it because it will pull up my whole patio. He says it won't, I say it will. Now it's never a good idea to get argumentative with one's landlord. I took the liberty of planning the space without going to him first, but then I already had a garden on the side. But then he says this: I want to plant a tree right there, about where your path meets the patio. It's YOUR YARD I say.

Thanks. Thanks for mentioning this three weeks ago, before I did the work, before I got excited, before the neighbors complimented the gardening, before we planted the annual seeds, before I transplanted the perennials, before anything.

He lives 6 houses away. In his yard he parks a car and more telephone poles, the rest concrete. So why on earth does he want to plant a tree in this small side yard? Especially since three is too many in front of the building. To show me who's the owner? To mask, rather poorly, his deteriorating building? Why plant a tree 4 feet from a building? There's no good reason.

Honestly, this has always been my experience with landlords. They really don't want you personalizing their spaces because they see it as added work or cost for themselves.

  • Landlord in Williamsburg Brooklyn, circa 1994: "get those tomato plants off my roof!"
  • Landlord in Portland, Oregon, circa 1995: "You must rip out this garden before you vacate"
  • Landlord in San Miguel, NM: actually my neighbor always complained to him about the garden, and I had to hear about it.
  • Current landlord, "You can do it as long as I don't have to take care of it."
So I asked him, testily, what kind of tree he was thinking about. He doesn't know, whatever Larry at the nursery thinks. I'm thinking of seeing Larry first.


April Heat



This is tulip Angelique. It's been droughty and over warm and it shows. Other years, Angelique came up in late April, this year, the first week of April. This is also the time I do some transplanting. Cool days and nights and generous rains make for good survival rates with little to think about. But this year, not so much. I transplanted quite a few things over to the side yard. The heat-induced super growth has led them to transpire much quicker.

The squirrels, of course, are digging around these new transplants, and I've already lost a few phlox to this. If it were cool or rainy, the uprooted phlox would hang on until I noticed it; just replant and protect. Instead, fallen over, they wilt in the hot sun. Much harder to revive after that day in the sun. Same goes for the St. John's Wort shrub -although not because of squirrels, but my own transplanting. It's made it, but lost most of its new leaves, and looks terrible -like a sick person at a party.

I should be watering, I suppose. But I'm not that kind of gardener in this place. Don't get me wrong, I've spent countless hours watering, usually in the evening (tisk tisk) with a hose. It's meditative, or something. But I have not chosen that path in this garden. I have a watering can and 100 foot march to and fro the spigot on the other side of the building. I've chosen not to walk that walk, simply depending on rains and some coolness in early spring. I'm no zealot however, I will water again, in another garden, or in a prolonged summer drought right here.


Poor Man's Patio Part 2



This is poor man's patio, one week later. I went to my corner hardware store and bought their cheapest ($4.99) bucket of gray, unsanded indoor/outdoor grout. In a bucket, I mixed some sand with the grout (which is basically portland cement). Then I shoved the mixture into all the gaps around the stones, pushing it into all the open spaces formed from a week of settling sand.

I wet the mixture with my watering can and got sloppy smoothing the wet cement with my broom. A day later, sufficiently cured, I rewet the surface to begin cleaning the grout residue from the surface of the slate. I wouldn't advise anyone to make a patio this way, but it works -in a devil may care sort of way. As I said in patio part 1 -if I were doing this right, I'd prepare a proper bed of gravel underneath the patio and then use crusher fines directly beneath the slate and in between the stones. But this is a cheapo patio.

A week back I planted the perennials around the patio. This weekend I applied a layer of cedar mulch. I did this primarily because this is what is advised given the amount of heavy metals in my soil. It so happens that in building my patio I turned a lot of the old soil over and onto the surface. The soil dust blows around, settling on my herbs or in my lungs. It can get pretty dry in my yard, as I rarely water. So the mulch keeps the dust down, or that's the theory anyhow.

All the perennials, no matter their location, are quite far along this season. The ferns I transplanted from the front yard were mere bumps a week ago -now fronds.

Dicentra eximia, a native of N. American eastern forests, exploded after replanting.

Brunnera macrophylla, or false forget-me-not or Siberian bugloss, variegated. This was barely hanging on underneath the old vegetable planters. It'll probably come back quite vigorously next year.
The potted chives are sending up its flowering stems.

The thyme is alive and well, if coming up much later than its neighboring oregano.


When Cats Go Wrong


This morning, the whitish one, Pinky, had a moment. She was acting funny. We thought she might shit. My wife decided to clean out the litter, maybe that's why. While cleaning, the CAT shit right in the middle of the rug. Hard not to yell about going to the farm. After the first one, isn't it a slippery slope? Won't she always think it's the place to shit now?

Pinky is the cute one, she rolls over, legs butterflied for belly rubbing. She's the one that guests love because she runs out to greet everyone. She's a lap cat. Yet, she's awfully persistent when it comes to the lap or her spot on the couch, she eats way too much and runs to her bowl whenever you get her off your lap, and finds things to eat that she shouldn't enough that puking up all that food is not uncommon. She also goes everywhere she's not supposed to as soon as you close the door -that vase with the flowers, it'll be on the floor. And now this.


I grew up with dogs. They never shit in the house. Cat people, tell me what's next?

Camp Hero, Part 2

As a kid and into adulthood, my family or I would often make the pilgrimage to Montauk, way past the hoity absurdity of the *hamptons. We would land at Hither Hills State Park, get there early for the spot on the top of the bluff. My grandfather used to cook pasta on the grill, and make perk coffee in the evening. We'd stay till dark, sometimes after, then make the long drive home.

Sometimes we'd hit the lighthouse. In between was a few miles of beach front condos, a small town serving the tourist, and then woodlands, dense woodlands all the way to the light. This was drive through area, my family not being much for hiking, on the way to and from Montauk Point. As it happens, then, I never knew much about it other than it was shaped by the sea around it and the glaciers before it. Not until Camp Hero, did I begin to see how it is different from the Long Island I know, or even Hither Hills just a couple of miles west.

On our way to the central parking lot, where we were to begin our hike, I noticed these peculiar wooden planks apparently shoring up the stream sides. After the first one, I saw them all over the place. My first thought was, how long will this work? My second thought was, I can't believe there are so many streams here.

After all, I grew up on dry, sandy Long Island. Now there are pockets of wet areas, kettles and swamps or streams as around Nissequogue or Peconic. But this seemed wholly different, it was elevated quite a bit above sea level and the streams seemed to cris-cross the landscape. We had just had record rains, so maybe we're seeing water where typically it may have only been sporadic. But then, these old planks told a different story, and so did all the areas with skunk cabbage. It was only later on the beach when I would fully understand the hydrology of this area.

It was unusual to see plane trees, city trees, until I reminded myself that this is an utterly human landscape, a military post. Along the streets, and some trails, plantings.

I was rather enthralled with the silver coloration of many of the trees. Was it the effect of the salty sea, was it the species, or lichen?

Small tree in silver.

This, of course, is tick country. I found this old sign amusing -its pre-deer tick, click on it to read. My brother is hyper tick worried, so going at winter's end was his idea of tick free. Of course, that's only partly true. When we were kids we bushwacked through the thicket only picking up a tick or two in ten years. Now it's as if there's an army.

There are many patches of greenbrier, dense and impassable.

From the central parking location, near the radar, we headed out. First on a paved road, Col. John Dunn Rd., then making a right on Old Montauk Highway, and finally turning onto the trail portion of the Paumanok Path. We wanted to make a loop, landing back near the radar at trail's end.

We were on the white marked trail, which I remember well from the mushroom maze. It's also known as the Paumanok Path, which terminates at the sea in front of the Montauk lighthouse.

I saw three forest communities on the woodland hike and I was amazed by the diversity on such a small parcel of land. All of these forest communities are somewhat rare, given their dependence on a very specific set of conditions. The higher elevation of this area protects these communities from the salt spray, which can limit species and canopy heights.

The first was Coastal Oak-Holly, dominated by oaks, but also including tall, mature holly trees.

Without the canopy of leaves, its easy to see the full holly. It's a beautiful tree that I think is rarely used well in home landscapes. Always planted like a shrub, too close to the house.

The bark is smooth, pleasantly colored, with nice eyes.

Of course, its leaves are sharp, which discourage deer browsing when mature, although the word is that the abundant deer are taking these out while still young.

We moved into an area with a stream, crossing over a couple of foot bridges.

Skunk cabbage was making an appearance.

This one with a moss belt.

Streams with mini waterfalls are just a bit uphill. I would have loved to play around this as a kid and spent the most time here, now.

The water was brown with tannin and its bed was like beach sand.

We soon found ourselves in a Coastal Oak-Laurel forest, magnificently illustrated by this laurel-oak bond.

The laurel bark is quite attractive, reminding me of cedar or yew trees.

This laurel understory reminded me of the Oak Laurel forest at Weir Farm, but also of the laurel woods on the north shore of Long Island.

Moss and laurel.

You will notice a few glacial erratics lying around, this being a morainic landscape.

But this area, after a little investigation, turned out to be an erratic dump -brought in by trucks from the military post, not the glacier.

The changeover from Coastal Oak Laurel to Coastal Oak-Beech was dramatic as we headed north on the Paumanok Path. The darkness of the evergreen laurels on one side of an imaginary line contrasted strongly with the brilliant silvery bark of the beech trees on the other. The beech trees grow on the north facing slopes, possibly the reason for the dramatic changeover.

Beech trees are wonderful trees. Great bark, excellent summer canopy, ghostly leaves through winter clinging to its branches. Just don't plant one near your sidewalk.

You can always tell a beech tree by its network of surface roots.

In the beech forest I discovered the convergence of two streams -not something I've seen much of on Long Island. At the convergence, the stream flows northerly.

Just south, I see the terminal point of one of the erosion control contraptions.

One hundred feet to the east is the roadway. We exit, walking toward the radar. At the gate, we get onto the bridal trail, a horse path, every now and then leaping over mucky zones.

Camp Hero Part 3: The Beach Head...



The Sidewalk Fairy


No, not what you think. Wait, what were you thinking?

Anyway...I left the house today to go to work and outside filling their water tank were Dragonetti Bros. concrete saw crew. I asked when the trees were coming and they weren't sure, but had a species for me: Zelkser or something like that printed on their sheet -they said it was Japanese! I looked up NYC street trees and think it might be some coding for Zelkova serrata or Japanese Zelkova. We'll see...but when I get home the sidewalk cuts should be done. Plus they said they weren't putting in that silly cobblestone edging, which just blocks the the rain water for a few more square feet of the pit, because that's not in their contract with the city. I suppose others must do it because it's in their contract. Any which way, my wife plans on making some nice home made tree guards, to protect from all those dawgs out there.

Camp Hero, Part 1



During the heat streak of three weekends ago, my brother, wife, and I went out to Montauk Point to hike Camp Hero, a relatively new parkland comprised of woodlands, ocean front, and a derelict military station. I have so many photos from my experience, that it is hard to edit it down to something readable -so I chose to break this urban hiker report up into three parts.

The weather was around 70 degrees even though it was only the first day of spring. The week prior it had rained record levels. This would affect our experience, because there was so much water in what I have always experienced as a generally dry locale. Of course, I have always visited Montauk in the dry summer months and this was, practically speaking, still winter.

There were some mighty oaks in the woods.

The defunct radar station. The only one of its kind remaining.

The cliffs and the ocean.

The maps: click on them for true size.

Map of the larger area; Camp Hero towards the lower right.

Camp Hero map.


Part 1: The Cliffs

We began from one of the several parking lots -this one at the cliffs, straight shot from the maine entrance. Later on, we drove deeper in to another parking lot for our hike.

One of the first things you notice are these signs. I think they are a bit old, and should be moved further from the cliff's edge. Surprisingly, there are no snow fences or other easy delineations along the edge.

My brother has a look, although at any moment the earth could give away.

The wind, waves, and ground water are having their way with the earth.

Looking southwest, along the shore.

Looking Northeast -in the distance is Block Island, with a bit of brown haze.

The hoodoos of Camp Hero.

The eroded soil can be seen here, coloring the water.


The Montauk Point Lighthouse, seen from Camp Hero.