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There is so much to see on my wanders through the Couple Acre Wood that it seems I am often discovering new stuff. Logically, I suspect it was there yesterday, but I wasn’t looking for it yesterday.
But today I noticed the large patches of bright yellow and white daffodils really comprised myriad smaller clusters of the flowery heraldry.
Another thing I’ve noticed this year is the variety in coloring of the daffodils’ trumpets. Previously I would have sworn the white flowers had either white or yellow trumpets but this year they displayed a range of graduated yellows and greens or yellow-ivory shades.
I suspect those colors always have been there but every year I notice something new.
I have often said the best way to wander in the forest is to not look for anything in particular. Now I add to “not look” for details you think you already have seen. It’s easy to pass by something you know you’ve seen, only to look again and discover you’ve been missing stuff.
I have adjusted my gaze downward this year as my canine companion, still not trying very hard to grow out of puppyhood, is beginning to give more attention to his surroundings rather than rushing to see how much of his surroundings he can cover without really seeing. Ah! The foibles of youth!
Throughout the Couple Acre Wood, Japanese honeysuckle vines wrap themselves around whatever is handy. They seem especially fond of Burning Bush saplings, though many of those shrubs were euthanized last year by the National Park Service, which had declared them invasive.
Tiny Virginia Spring Beauty blossoms blanket the forest floor with their Easter-shaded pink and purple five-petal ornaments, laid down like a spring snow flurry across last season’s oak and hickory leaves.
They are sometimes called Fairy Spuds, and are purported to be edible, from the flowers to the tiny potato-like “corms” formed along their roots – named, one presumes for their celebrated presence as snacks at fairy dance parties.
As evening draws over the woodland, the tiny flowers withdraw into themselves like a maiden might draw her cloak around her head and shoulders against the coming chill. I wonder is it the fading light or the waning temperature that causes them shrink their flowers into tiny white cocoons dangling from the ends of their respective stems.
Darkness permeates the Couple Acre Wood. One might think the whole place is asleep, though one might simultaneously try to find the scattered crystals seemingly glittering in the flashlight beam.
The glitters might be drops of water, except there has been no rain for nearly a week, and if you stand still and watch the glitter, it sparkles on and off – as wolf spiders, slip among the leaves and roots on their nightly food forays.
The crystalline sparkle is from the reflection of the flashlight off the tapetum lucidum layer on the back of their eyes. The reflection causes a double exposure of light on the Wolf spider’s retina, enhancing the arachnid’s ability to see in low-light conditions.
Nighttime afflicts me with FOMO: Fear Of Missing Out on events and critters who use the time between sunset and sunrise to search out treats left undetected by those who limit their investigation to daylight hours.
I set a trail camera to watch a promising spot and was treated to a Wood mouse and a racoon inspecting the innerworkings of a hollow log. Turns out the show doesn’t stop when the lights go out.
Text and Images ©2025 John Messeder. John is an award-winning environmental storyteller, nemophilist and social anthropologist living in Gettysburg, PA. He may be contacted at john@johnmesseder.com
The brain runs best on dark roast!