April 21, 1858.
P. M. To Easterbrooks's and Bateman's Pond. ….
The rocks on the east side of Bateman's Pond are a very good place for ferns. I see some very large leather-apron umbilicaria [tripe] there. They are flaccid and unrolled now, showing most of the olivaceous-fuscous upper side. This side feels cold and damp, while the other, the black, is dry and warm, notwithstanding the warm air. This side, evidently, is not expanded by moisture. It is a little exciting even to meet with a rock covered with these livid (?) green aprons, betraying so much life. Some of them are three quarters of a foot in diameter. What a growth for a bare rock!
-H.D.T.
April 21, 2021.
At 1:15 p.m. it’s 70 degrees, but windy and cloudy with an impending rain due to start around 2. I head into Estabrook Woods via the Concord Conservation Land Trust’s Chamberlin Woods land. At the forest’s edge, I hear a red-bellied woodpecker’s repeated call, but cannot see it above me in the trees. Flitting in and out of the branches in the understory of the forest, I spot and watch a palm warbler, with characteristic bold yellow-green chest and brown cap, continuously flicking its tail.
By the time I reach the precipice above Bateman's Pond on its eastern side, a light rain has begun to fall. The steep slope toward the pond is the location of the former Middlesex Academy ski jump. And, just as Thoreau described, for many yards to the left and right, this broad rocky slope, with only a thin veneer of organic matter from decaying fallen leaves, is thickly and uniformly covered in rock polypody ferns. To my right, a pretty, cascading stream empties out into the pond, its edges adorned with fully leafed out skunk cabbages, sparsely and evenly spaced as if purposefully placed by a landscape designer. On the other side of the pond, I see students preparing boats for rowing practice on the water.
Glancing back at the stream, I immediately see up on the hill to the left two large boulders with thickly matted coverings of what must be Thoreau’s leather-apron umbilicaria, better known today as smooth rock tripe (Umbilicaria mammulata), a type of lichen. While it is sprinkling now, the tripe today are not flaccid, but rather stiff; the flaccid nature of the tripe that Thoreau found was because he examined them in much wetter conditions after a heavy day of day. But the colors certainly match; I see cream with greenish patches on top, and black below. The holistic effect of the tripe against the rock is a classic camouflage pattern. Many pieces are up to eight or nine inches long. It is a marvelous display to see such life on bare rock.
I make my way back along the edge of the pond, eventually scaring up a large raptor, which flies south over the water. I find additional boulders with growths of rock polypody and tripe. I’m surprised no formal trail follows the edge of this lovely pond here to reconnect with other trails to the south. Within a swampy section before the elevation rises again to a broader plateau with a view of the pond, I see again two palm warblers, flicking their tails as they move in and out of the branches. Several bumblebees buzz and a tiny purplish-blue butterfly flutters by.
As I exit the woods, I hear the red-bellied woodpecker again. This time I spot it - its little read head sticking out of a hole from a tree trunk like a cuckoo from a clock announcing the time.
Taking everything together, I’m convinced I’ve found the same location of Thoreau’s observations of abundant ferns and tripe. The conditions just seem perfectly suited to their continued presence here from from 1858 until today.
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