Hiking the Lower Yahara River Trail

There's a new trail in town and I like it. It includes the longest inland boardwalk bridge constructed solely for non-motorized transportation in North America!



The Lower Yahara River Trail links my community, McFarland, with a trail system that links and loops around the greater Madison area, in a series of other trails.



I've highlighted the newest sections of the trail in green on this map. As you can see, it transverses a narrow strip of land between Upper Mud Lake and Lake Waubesa. In the past, we'd need to travel much farther, and through heavy traffic, to get to the parks across the lake. This new trail provides an easy, pleasant hike and access to the prairies and parks on the other side.

It's also open to bikers, joggers, and skaters. I realized later that I should have included more pictures of people in this post, because the trail was busy both times I've hiked it. The photos shown here were taken on two dates--during a dry, hot day in September and a recent warm, lush day in October.



Some trees had already lost their leaves in September because of a mini-drought with several days in the 90sF/30sC.



It was still pleasant on the dry, hot day, in spite of the difficult growing conditions.



But much more pleasant and peaceful after sufficient rain.



The trail parallels a long-established stretch of railroad.



Sections along the way provide bike racks and plenty of room for people to pause, park, and enjoy the scenery.



The clouds, the lake, and the shadows are mesmerizing.



Looking across to the railroad bridge, this is the point along the trail where Upper Mud Lake connects with Lake Waubesa. It's a popular fishing and boating spot.



Beyond the boardwalk, the trail connects with a particular area of Lake Farm County Park I'd never seen before--an area I'm planning to explore more fully next spring and summer. It's a beautiful loop of trails through prairie and woodland-opening habitat.



During my October hike, I saw several Common Buckeye butterflies.



Most of the forbs and grasses were dried up because of the September drought, but the framing of the colorful fall foliage made for pretty contrasts.















A few Brown-Eyed Susans (R. triloba) and Thistles (Cirsium spp.) were among the scant plants still blooming in October.





After exploring the prairie and the woodland for a bit, I headed back to the boardwalk, with similar lovely views on the return trip.







A few people were fishing.



Others were kiteboarding/surfing on the lake.



A beautiful red-tailed hawk swooped down over the lake, across the boardwalk, and into a tree in my sight line. It paused long enough for me to capture a few candids. Such a regal bird!

It's wonderful to have a new trail to explore so close to home. This new area is within easy walking/biking distance of home, and it opens up new paths of discovery. Enjoy this video, showing aerial and surface views of the trail:

Plant of the Month: Purple Coneflower

Yes, I know Purple Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) is a common North American perennial found in many gardens. Perhaps that's why I haven't featured it as "plant of the month" until now. Maybe I take it for granted.



Though most of us are familiar with this beautiful, tough, flowering plant, many probably aren't aware how well it will grow in dappled or partial shade conditions. I've had it growing in the latter for many years--in my west-facing potager, where it gets bright sun for half the day. The initial plants have reliably regenerated every year for nearly two decades.



I introduced Purple Coneflower to the Oak-shaded back garden only a couple of years ago. It's taken a bit longer to get established there, but it's beginning to fill out and add its own special magic to its new location. With the south-facing back garden in dappled shade, the plants receive little glints of light throughout the day. When the sun's rays hit it just right, the plants' glowing-orb seed heads appear to be ablaze.

In shade, the blooms last longer, too, which is another pleasant discovery. So from bud in late May through final bloom in late September and seed heads in winter, this plant has staying power in dappled shade!



If you don't have any Echinaceas in your garden, you might want to consider them for their ease of care, drought-tolerance, beauty, and long life. They're also great cut flowers, they attract butterflies and hummingbirds, and they provide special value to native bees. In autumn and winter, the seeds offer nourishment to hungry birds.

A few more specifics about Purple Coneflower from the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center:

• Native to most of Eastern and Central North America;
• Tolerates a wide range of soil types and moisture conditions;
• Height: 2-5 ft.; Width: 1-3 ft.; and
• Flowers are pink to purple, (I've found the hues are softer when grown in shade).

This common beauty is hardy in zones 3 to 10. The name Echinacea comes from the Greek "echino," meaning hedgehog--referring to the spiky cone disk at the center.

I find the stages of the flower development beautiful to watch as they transition through the growing season.



















Definitely a great plant for sun, partial shade, or even dappled shade.



I'm linking this post to Gail's Wildflower Wednesday celebration. Head on over to learn about other wildflowers blooming around the world.

Lessons From Simple Seeds

"The promise of springtime can be found in a single seed."

~Author Unknown

While contemplating the "angle" for this season's "Garden Lessons Learned" post, I came up with several ideas--both practical and introspective. But I settled on the power and promise of the simple seed, which of course is both factual and miraculous, a blend of art and science, beauty and structure.

Like most people, I've understood--from a very young age--the mechanics and the magic of how a seed yields a plant. I've planted many seeds myself over the years, and watched patiently (and impatiently) over time until they poked their tiny stems and buds through the soil.

But I guess this is the first year (or maybe the first year in a very long time) that I've fully experienced that miracle. I was truly present.

This autumn, I spent quality time contemplating the visual beauty of seed heads in the autumn sunshine, the soft touch and the sensation of harvesting them with my fingertips, and the stunning miracle of knowing that nature and my intervention will yield new plants in a few short months.

Yes, it seems obvious and basic. But if you open your mind, heart, and soul to the gift of what that means, it can bring great joy. A simple pleasure in the midst of a very complicated process.

It's similar to the feeling that comes from truly "experiencing" an art museum. If you simply walk through and cover as much area as you can within a limited time frame ... yes, you'll "get" it. You'll appreciate all the talent that yielded the masterpieces.

But if you stop for a few minutes, an hour, or longer ... and really study one single painting ... you'll "get" it on a much deeper level.

We all know that each seed has the potential to create a new plant. But do we really know it?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

What garden inspirations and lessons have you learned or discovered during the past season?

To join in the "Garden Lessons Learned" meme, simply write a post or share one you've already written about lessons you've learned during the past season. Then share your links or observations in the comments. I'll keep this post up for a few days, and it will be available always under the "Lessons Learned" tab at the top of this blog. I'll share "lessons learned" posts on the PlantPostings Facebook Page closer to the solstice.

Please also join in Donna's Seasonal Celebrations at Gardens Eye View! Feel free to join in with a post that fits both memes, or separate posts for one or both of them.

Happy Holidays!

The Magic of Autumn Sunlight

Isn't it great to find a new "secret" place close to home? Last week, I discovered a lovely spot of earth, drenched in the oblique light of a mild autumn afternoon.

The temperature was pleasant (~74F/23C), the wind was calm ... and there it was--a beautiful wildflower garden by the lake. A bench encouraged me to contemplate the scene.

Most of the wildflowers had gone to seed, though some--"Asters," Susans, and Coneflowers--were still blooming. (We've flirted with frost around here, but many flowers remain even today.)

The light, sparkling on the lake and the fluffy seed heads, was stunning. I wish you could have been there.























I will return to this secret spot next season. I'd tell you where it is, but then it wouldn't be a secret anymore. ;)

Linking this post to Gail's Wildflower Wednesday over at Clay and Limestone. (Have I mentioned how much I admire this meme? Thanks, Gail.)

And I'll leave you with a Wednesday Vignette (thanks, Anna, for hosting). It's a view outside my front window yesterday, stylized because the photo quality wasn't great. (The colors are true to reality, but they're fading fast.)