Delicate 1-inch blooms, the shape and style of a child’s drawing and of the Crayola crayon color “orchid,” were bobbing over deeply cut leaves around my knees and ankles as I ambled along the Harvard Conservation Trust’s Muller Trail off Littleton County Road. These wild geraniums stayed at the edge of the trail and didn’t seem to venture deeper into the woods.
Jack in the pulpit. (Photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
Wild geranium. (Photo courtesy H. Zell, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
The Muller Trail is named for Erhart and Ruth Muller who donated the land, the first to be donated to the Harvard Conservation Trust, more than 50 years ago. Erhart Muller was one of the founders of the Harvard Conservation Trust.
Even a short walk on this trail to the bridge over a brook and back (about a mile) offers a wide range of habitat, such as wetlands and forest, and terrain, including a gradual descent to a brook. Some of the wildflowers characteristic of these landscapes are in bloom. The trails are of moderate difficulty. That means there can be loose rocks, slippery leaves, exposed roots, and uneven terrain.
Along the edge of the path and into the woods were plants with three plain leaves connected at the end of their midribs, in among three-leafed poison ivy plants—of which there are plenty. The three non-
poison ivy leaves formed a sort of flat roof over the jack-in-the-pulpit, luring insects into its trap to pollinate its hidden flowers. When I lifted a leaf I could see that the inside of the plant was either purple-brown or white.
The air was scented with the perfume of the small, varying in height from 2- to 8-inches tall, Canada mayflower, sometimes called wild lily-of-the-valley, which carpeted the ground. Two leaves of the plant point upward, harboring a feathery cluster of tiny flowers. Birds eat the red berries that follow the blossoms.
Interspersed with the Canada mayflowers were occasional starflowers, which are about the same size and height as the Canada mayflowers. The whorl of green leaves and the tiny white flowers rising above the whorl are star-shaped and couldn’t possibly be named otherwise.
Beyond one of the many stone walls was a bright green field of grass, with a boulder in the middle. As the trail went downhill, the tips of false Solomon’s seal and starry false Solomon’s seal, plants with large alternate leaves on arching stems, were flowering. Before I reached a bridge over a little brook, I saw a few Solomon’s seal plants, also with arching stems and alternate leaves but with the small white bells dangling from the stem that distinguishes the plant from false Solomon’s seal.
At the brook, the marsh marigolds were past flowering, but the stout, highly poisonous (if eaten) false hellebore with hardy, ribbed leaves and feathery yellow-green blossoms was growing at the edge of the stream.
Across the brook, trails head into the wooded upland forest where lowbush blueberry and huckleberry bushes, while not in bloom, promised treats for the birds and animals in the future. A connected walk of 3 to 5 miles can be taken through Horse Meadows Knoll; the trail eventually loops back to the stream and the bridge. Just before the bridge, a beautiful yellow birch tree with shiny bark stood a few feet from the stream.
Garden on a boulder
Nearby is a chest-high boulder topped with upright plants whose leaves waved above the rock’s surface. Being eye level with a garden of plants that are usually seen at our feet growing here on a boulder is just the sort of delightful experience that can happen by staying alert.
On the return walk, I diverged where a blue mark on a tree indicated a loop that goes past a spectacular glacial erratic boulder. Another glacial erratic next to it was hidden by forest debris on a nearby property. A piece of rusted farm machinery lay next to the trail. Soon this secondary trail intersected with the primary trail, the wild geraniums, the jack-in-the-pulpits, and the way to my car in the parking lot.
In addition to gifts, the efforts of the community to maintain trails and acquire connecting property for the benefit of all make this pleasant walk possible. Recently, I ran across Bromfield students removing invasive plants along the trail where the native wild plants are now spreading out.
I was almost to my car when I saw an unusually big fern among the other big ferns, but this one had a fuzzy cinnamon-colored stalk rising from the middle—a cinnamon fern. I’d seen these ferns from afar but now, having learned its name from a walking companion and visited it up close, I feel connected to it.
