Succession                             By: Claudia Corona                              12/07/09

Where Ford Glen brook had been covered in green luscious vegetation months ago, everything was now covered in white. It was as if my site had turned into a completely different environment overnight. Before I dug a hole, I looked around at my site. Most of the trees that had been stripped of leaves last week were now covered in white clumps of snow, the Ford Glen trail was completely unrecognizable in the snow, and even the still present ferns could no longer boast their color, having been covered with a blanket of white snow . It was a bit windy, but very bright at 10:30 in the morning, which made the scene even more breathtaking, especially when the wind would sway the tree branches and white powdery snow would sprinkle down from the high trees.

I went further into the woods, and chose to dig a 24 in. by 12 in. by 6 in. deep rectangular hole. I chose a spot where there were no trees for a couple of meters on either side and I dug. I kept digging until I hit these big red cylindrical branch-like things inside the whole. At first, I thought they were crab legs because they had a red color and a white hue to them, but then I broke one and saw that it was moist and looked like the inside of a tree, there were lots of them in my way and I couldn’t dig them out, which lead me to believe that they were the roots of a tree so I left them there and observed the soil layers in my site.

I didn’t see any clear definable soil layers in the hole. I couldn’t discern the organic layer from the A layer of minerals. After the leaf litter and the dirt and decomposed matter, all I really saw was a mixed up layer of dark brown soil filled with small twigs, little rocks, and shiny, wet, soft soil, probably the mineral layer that meshed with the B layer.

Since the native americans that inhabited this area weren’t excessive tree choppers like the first colonials, this forest must have at one point been filled with old hemlocks and undisturbed, rich soils.

Looking at the types of tree species that my site has; striped maple, black/yellow birch, sugar maples, beech, and some hemlock, this used to be a wood lot, maybe less than a hundred years ago, by the looks of the medium-sized tree trunk girth of the majority of the trees. The wood lot was abandoned and pioneer species came to repopulate the land, the first being striped maple and black/yellow birch, followed by the rest of the trees previously said.

According to Clement’s theory of succession, my site has gone through several phases of succession. The first phase occurred when the old-growth forest became disturbed and succession began with the development of the new site, known as nudation. After the forest’s natural processes had been disrupted and then abandoned, migration occurred, the second phase, which is when the striped maple and black/yellow birch came in. Ecesis, the third phase, occurred soon after, which established the initial growth of the vegetation. As the vegetation became well established, grew, and spread, species began to compete for space, light and nutrients, called competition, phase number 4.

After several years of the striped maple and the birch becoming well established, other plant communities came in, called the reaction phase, where there is a replacement of one plant community by another, known as phase 5. Phase 6 is the stabilization phase, which leads to the development of a climax community, where everything is in equilibrium.
I believe Ford Glen brook is in phase 5. The forest has been left to thrive on its own for a couple of decades now, pioneer species have dwindled in numbers and other species, such as sugar maple and beech, another wave of tree species, has come in and begun to dominate the area. Decades from now, and if there are no major disturbances, such as clear-cutting, then the sugar maple and beech will start to decrease in number as hemlocks will start to come in, which are the next wave of oldest growing trees. If Ford Glen is left alone, with time it can naturally change to become as rich in soil and minerals as it was before colonialism, all we have to do is let nature take its course.

Source: http://www.answers.com/topic/ecological-succession-1

Ford Glen Brook’s past          By: Claudia Corona           11/20/09

I walked to Ford Glen Brook and I looked at it. I looked at the little brook that had less water now because the weather in the past few weeks had not been fruitful enough to provide much rain; and I saw something else.

I saw a little brook that had captured my heart enough for me to want to know as much as I could about it. I remember researching its name earlier and learning that my little brook was named after someone. It was named “Ford Brook”, in memory of “gold old deacon Zadock Ford, the edge of whose farm was washed by it” (Origins in Williamstown, p.15).  Farther into the forest, “the deepest and darkest stretch of glen through which the brook bickers along is called ‘Ford’s Glen”” (Origins in Williamstown, p.15). Zadock Ford owned land by the brook in 1796, but no other record I’ve seen shows land by Ford Glen Brook being bought until 1882.

In 1882, Alfred C. Moon bought 100 acres in what would later be known as Hopkins Forest, and within these acres was some, if not all of the land surrounding Ford Glen Brook. In 1906, Alfred C. Moon sold 40 acres to Amos Lawrence Hopkins, and in them was land by Ford Glen Brook. “By 1910, Buxton Farms (Hopkins’ land) encompassed 1,636 acres and ran from Northwest Hill to the New York state border in the West, and Vermont in the North, excluding only the Moon Lot” (Farms to Forest, p.10)…but including Ford Glen Brook. In 1912, Mr. Hopkins passed away. Alfred Moon lived on the remaining 60 acres that he had not sold to Hopkins until he died of a heart attack in 1924, the same year that Mrs.Hopkins stopped operation of the Buxton farms. A decade later in 1934, Mrs. Hopkins deeded the land to Williams College, who in turn, “rented it” to the U.S. Forest Service in 1935 for $1, with the condition that when the forest service was done using the forest for experimental research, they would give the land back to the college. The U.S. Forest Service used the land until 1968, and then they gave it back to Williams College, who has owned Hopkins forest since then.

As I looked at the brook, I remember thinking that this was the end of Ford Glen Brook interaction with humans, but then I found out that this little brook had captured more hearts. In 1905, a year before Moon sold 40 acres to Hopkins, the Williamstown Boy’s Club was founded after a judge suggested that something be done about the fact that there were many young boys without any recreational facilities to go to or use. Following A.L. Hopkins death in 1912, The Boy’s Club camp started on part of the land owned by Hopkins sometime after his death but before Mrs. Maria Hopkins, gave it to Williams College. Even though Williams College deeded the land to the U.S. Forest Service in 1935, the Boy’s Club camp, located on Northwest Hill (by Ford Glen Brook) continued using the property as a day camp, but it closed down in the 1970s because of insurance concerns that the camp had.

Another thing that I learned but hadn’t really thought about was that Ford Glen brook wasn’t created with a bridge on it. The second picture is what the brook probably looked like before it had been dammed. Ford Glen Brook wasn’t free for long, it was dammed in the late 1800s or early 1900s, I’m sorry to say that I’m not quite sure when. The first picture is another one of Ford Glen Brook, taken by Henry Art, professor at Williams College, showing the “dam”, which also served as a bridge, made to allow people and vehicles across the brook without hassle. This bridge didn’t last for long. In 1988, the bridge was reconstructed and made into a more stable and sturdy bridge, able to sustain heavier loads such as trailers and trucks.

In the end, Ford Glen Brook was not the same today. But it hadn’t been the same yesterday, or last week, or last year, or 200 years ago! Being a small brook, I never really thought that Ford Glen had much of a history, until I remembered that everything has a history, and each day that goes by makes that history a deeper one, shaped by people, climate, and time.

SOURCES:

1st Photo: Unknown, was given to by Mike Miller
2nd Photo: Professor Henry Art of Williams College

Books:
Perry, L. Arthur., Origins in Williamstown., Arthur Perry, Williams College, MA, 1894.
The Williams Naturalists. Farms to Forests: A Naturalist’s Guide. Center for Environmental Studies, Williams College, MA, 1995.

Video Recording @ Hopkins By: Claudia Corona             11/15/09

There was an hour until sundown when I had walked into Ford Glen Brook. I decided to come this late in the day because I was hoping to get video recording of any animals that usually start to come out later in the day for nightly escapades.

I decided to make my first video recording about 20 meters from the trail entrance, so that I would be able to capture more of the processes going on in the forest. I stood in the middle of the forest and made a 360 degree turn with my camera, in order to show how everything looked here at this time.

It was a quieter day than usual, there was no pitter-patter of rain drops on leaves, no rustling of leaves, even the brook seemed quieter. Since the last time I had visited, not much rain had fallen on the college, or Hopkins Forest. Trail lines were blurred by piles of leaves, dead branches, and the lack of plant growth on the edges. Most of the trees had now completely lost their leaves, putting up a stark whitish-grey contrast against the dimming blue-orange sky. The only trees that hadn’t lost their leaves yet and wouldn’t for the rest of the season were the Hemlock trees. The reason for this is because Hemlocks are adapted to cope with heavy to very heavy winter snowfall and tolerate ice storms better than most other trees, which would explain why they still maintain their evergreen leaves while every other tree species is bare and pale.

The trail I was on was muddy and wet with small pools of water here and there. Last week there had been a small stream trickling down this very same trail that eventually ended up filling a small pool of water to the side of the path. But now, the stream no longer had the water volume to stay together as one single body of water. The lack of significant rain this past week most likely attributed to it breaking of into random small pools of water. If there had been more consistent rain, the middle of the Ford Glen Brook trail would probably have a bigger, stronger stream coursing through it, on its way down to meet the brook.

Walking to the brook, the loudest noise that I could here was the crunching of leaves, thanks to my hiking boots. Dry brown leaves, fallen pine cones and ferns were all that I could see on the ground. I noticed that the sounds of rushing water weren’t as loud as before. As I walked closer to the brook, I noticed that the amount of water in the brook had noticeably decreased. I could see where the water level had risen to before, about half-a-foot above its current height. The lack of rain also explained why the brook was not as “filled” or loud as before, there was less water to hit the rocks, to smack against the fallen logs, or to just run through the brook, which is why the brook seemed lacking in hubbub.

It was around 4:15 p.m. when I started hiking back up from the brook and towards the trail. It was getting darker, and I wanted to leave before nightfall, but then I noticed the sunset.  It was the first time since I’d begun journaling at this site that I had seen a sunset; usually, there were trees blocking the sunlight with their branches of leaves, but not this time. Just like there were no leaves to be rustled by the wind, there were no leaves to stop the sun from sending its last rays of light through the forest, illuminating the forest for a couple more seconds, just before it set behind the mountains, and nightfall spread across the sky.

The sites witnessed today, of bare trees, dry leaves, and no fauna show how this site is ready for winter. Trees have shed their leaves to store energy, and plants have receded underground to stay in during the winter months. It seems like this site is ready to “sleep” and have the seasons blanket the site with layer upon layer of snow. It shouldn’t be too long now until it snows, especially since we are now halfway through November and winter is only a couple of weeks away.

A Taste of Nature               By: Claudia Corona             10/30/09

Neither the slight chill in the air, nor the cloudiness of the day could dampen my mood today. I was going taste-testing! But not at just any site, I was going to Hopkin’s Forest!

I walked into the forest, fully expecting a buffet of colorful leaves and lively green plants, but that all came to a screeching halt when I saw the my site before me. If I didn’t know anything about seasons, I’d think that the Earth was permanently dying. Two weeks ago there was rows of white snakeroot, shrub honeysuckle, and other plants along the trail. But now, nothing but dried up leaves and parched plant stems littered the ground. The ferns were still around, but that’s because they are evergreen plants and they remain green throughout winter.

Even the trees looked dead! Two weeks ago they were a live, rich, vibrant brown color, and now, they all looked dried up. No tree had a lively color to it; the maples. beech, and birch trees all sported a dull gray color. They all looked how they felt (of little energy) and it made sense. As the northern hemisphere approaches winter, trees absorb all of the energy that their leaves have (as a result of less sunlight hours), and then shed their leaves in order to store energy for winter. But that’s not enough, the trees also have to “power down” and go into a sort of hibernation mode in order to survive the cold winter months, which would explain why they looked less vibrant.

“Chirp, chirp!”, is all I could hear while I take in what looks to be a perished forest. Now that more than 90% of the leaves on all the trees had fallen, I could see the birds flying around from tree to tree. There were quite a few birds today, more than I’d ever seen or heard before in my site. The birds were too high up for me to identify, but they couldn’t have been more than 6 inches tall and there were lots of them, flying through the trees and landing amongst the still living shrubbery. I was surprised at the strong presence that the birds were making, both in sight and sound. I briefly wondered why they were still here, there couldn’t possibly be anything of use to the little birds, the majority of the flora was nonexistent! I couldn’t figure out the answer at the moment so I moved on.

The forestry along Ford Glen Brook may have been stripped of its vibrancy, looking like a barren land with nothing on the ground but arid leaves, but that wasn’t going to deter me from my taste-testing! I looked around and sought out any plants that weren’t already dead or potentially dangerous for me to digest. All I could see was japanese barberry and lady fern. Though the japanese barberry had lost most of its leaves, and had a pale orange color to it, it still had vivacious red berries on its branches.

That’s when it clicked. The birds were here for food, specifically berries. Now that almost all of the plants and shrubbery had been cleared away, the red berries were more noticeable and easier for the birds to collect or eat. I wanted to know what all the hype was with these red berries, so I decided to eat one. I put one in my mouth and bit into it, immediately tasting an acrid liquid. It reminded me of eating unripe fruit; sour and dry. I spit that out after a couple seconds, not wanting an upset stomach.

Now feeling a bit more courageous with my taste-testing, I went after the lady fern. The lady fern felt dry in my mouth, and tasted like grass, so I spit that out as well, definitely a less interesting taste than the berries. I’d also always wanted to know if paper birch tasted like paper, so I cut some bark out and tried that as well. The bark was pretty sturdy and hard to chew in my mouth, it felt like I was trying to chew paper, quenching that curiosity. At this point I wished that for some water to get the taste of flora out of my mouth, and I thought about the stream water…but however thirsty I was, I decided to not risk getting Giardia (diarrhea), so instead I called it a day and walked back home, happy to have had a taste of nature (literally!).

Hopkins At Night By: Claudia Corona        10/26/09

Being in the forest at night is an experience from another world. Not because we were scared or anything preposterous like that, but because it’s a different sight, a different feeling, a different atmosphere than what we are used to.

I say “we” because I brought a peer along who also wanted to see what the forest was like at night. And how was it like at night? Like nothing we’ve ever seen, literally.

It was a little after 8:30pm when we made it to the entrance of the Ford Glen Brook trail, and by that time, everything was pitch black. We could dimly see lights coming from a lone house across the brook, but the lights were only bright enough to illuminate inside the house, certainly not anything outside. Trees that normally blocked the sun out of the forest were now being were covered in layer upon layer of night. The wilting white snakeroots were no longer discernible and it was too dark for the ferns to openly boast their evergreen color to the surrounding dull brown vegetation. The dark atmosphere demanded quiet and we adhered, especially since I wanted to know what other creatures were up and about at this time and place.

Our first stop for audio recording was 100 feet from the beginning of the trail, and right before we had to get off the trail to go to the brook. Here we stopped and listened for sounds. In the distance, the audio recorder caught the sounds of the artificial owl call  by the Rosenberg Center, which we had visited the week before during our owl trip. The artificial owl call sounded like a siren, constant and repeating, and one used to draw attention. But the siren wasn’t one of alarm, just of seeking. The rushing water traveling along in the brook was much more audible here than it had been some yards back. But hearing it wasn’t enough, I wanted to get closer to the brook.

With hopes of hearing a frog or two that maybe hadn’t yet migrated away, we went down to Ford Glen Brook. As we trekked down to the brook, the sound of rushing water became clearer and clearer, so clear, that even though we were about 15 diagonal feet from the brook (because it was too dark and dangerous to climb down the rocky slope), the resonance made us feel as if we were standing right next to the brook. The sound of the rushing water was a very constant one, and although it was calm and soothing, it lacked ribbits and chirps, so after a while, we decided to go back onto the path.

We voyaged back onto the trail and stopped. For some time we stood in complete darkness listening for sounds that might be out of the ordinary, not caused by wind, water, or artificial owls. After some time had passed, I decided to call it a day and so we marched back to our bikes. We still kept our ears open for hopes of hearing a bird screech or a bear roar, but our steps were too noisy. It hadn’t rained in a while, and so the leaves were still crunchy and loud when we stepped on them, which explains why a part of my audio recording is leaf stepping. We were trying to hear animals and got rambunctious leaves instead!

We were getting ready to hop back up on our bikes when suddenly, a cry coming from somewhere above in the trees, touched our ear drums. This sound was very different from the constant artificial owl call. Not having been prepared to record this sound, I took out the audio recorder, and hoped that this bird, most likely an owl, would call out once more. “Peo!”, we heard it again, now caught on tape; but we coudln’t pinpoint where the bird was! It was definitely a bird cry, but the sound wasn’t fast and loud like a shriek would be in a time of urgency. And it also wasn’t low and slow like a hum. It reminded me of a bird call. I understood it as the bird saying, “I’m here, where’s everyone else?”. After a few more calls, the bird stopped; satisfied with our finds we biked back home. Although I didn’t see the bird that called, the sounds I got on tape were worth it, because they show that there’s always an active world out there, even at night.

Update            By: Claudia Corona            10/20/09

Naked. If I had to describe the forestry surrounding Ford Glen Brook today, naked is the word I would use to describe it. It’s been a week since I last came to observe my site, and already I feel as if I’ve missed out on big changes. It feels as if everything has gone away.

I’m not walking into the trail, I am tramping all over it. The ground floor is covered in about 2 inches of leaf litter and as I go down the path, my boots can’t help but make noise, “Crunch, crunch”. It’s incredible noisy for such a calm environment, so I stop. I crouch down and pick up a leaf on the ground. It feels rough, brittle and dry. I look ahead, farther into the Ford Glen Brook trail, and notice that the leaves no longer form a carpet of red and gold, but of pale brown cover, which, according to my boots, are cantankerous.

I kick off the leaves in one spot of the trail, and dig with my fingers into the dirt. I rummage and rummage until I feel I’ve gotten about 3 inches deep, and then take that chunk of soil out. The soil is a very dark brown, almost black in color. It’s definitely moist, but not damp enough to stain my fingers with mud or grime. I never noticed before that soil contained more than dirt. This soil had small twigs, leaves, and rocks the size of very small pebbles. It was bumpy and soft, and smelled of pine sap. Briefly, I wondered what the soil by the brook might feel like, and I decided to go and find out.

On my way to the brook, I look around and notice lots of Christmas ferns and Lady ferns, more than usual. But then I also notice that most of the other plants that were around last week, like the Jack in the pulpit and Dame’s rocket, are not there. The death of many plants that can’t handle the 30 degree weather amplifies the presence of all the plants that are still alive, and can trick one into believing that those still alive are reproducing quickly, when really, they are just the only plants still alive. I can easily discern many of the red maples have begun to turn, or turned fully, The Japanese Barberry on the Ford Glen Brook trail is no longer its dark green color, but now an orange-yellowish color and it still has its red, oval-shaped berries.

As I was jumping over fallen logs and rotten trees, I saw something I had never seen before, a pine cone! But it wasn’t an ordinary sight, all of the pine cones I saw had blotches of what looked like white paint on them. I really couldn’t believe that there were so many pine cones here, so I picked one up. It was about 6 inches high, an inch in diameter,  with all that “paint”. I touched the white “paint” and it was very sticky and smelled strongly of something minty. I finally recognized it as pine sap oozing from the pine cone when I broke the pine cone in half, but I don’t know what tree the pine cones were falling from.

I finally made it down to the brook and dug deep into a steep slope that had some soil exposed. The soil a few feet from the brook was significantly smoother and wetter. It was muddy, and when I rubbed the soil in my hand, it stained my fingers. There were very few twigs in the soil, and almost no rocks. It was much softer and squishier, vaguely reminding me of clay. But this wasn’t surprising, being so close to the brook meant the soil here is more exposed to the water, and whenever the brook gets lots of rain, it probably gets high enough to drown the soil in water, which would explain its constant muddy-like state.

Streaks of light penetrated the top of the trees while I was walking back on the trail. I’d never seen sunlight penetrate the tree tops in my site before. That’s when I looked up and realized that there WERE no tree tops! All of the leaves that had once soaked up the sunlight had fallen onto the path and enabled the sun to brighten up the forest. Everything looked so bare, and yet so full; of leaves, sunlight, and in a few weeks, of snow.

Look Closer…         By: Claudia Corona         10/07/09

I walked on a path of red and gold today. No, not of carpets, but of leaves. Yellow leaves, gold leaves, red leaves, leaves in-between, lay on the Ford Glen Brook path as well as around the trees, no longer scattered but piling up. Where a week ago, I could once see the bedrock beneath my feet and the soil smearing my boots, I now saw leaves.

I wondered why there were so many more leaves on the ground now, and the wind patiently answered my question tickling my ears and moving a few strands of my hair. It was a persistent wind, and the leaves were in no mood to resist staying on their branches after having worked all year, so they gave in and fell, thus coloring a once boring brown ground into a red and gold one, making anyone traversing the path feel humbled to be in the presence of such beautiful natural change.

It was loud, and too quiet, at the same time. The leaves I stepped on lacked the melodious crunching sound of “foot on leaf”. I could hear that Ford Glen Brook however, demanded attention. I walked over to it, and noticed that the brook was definitely much fuller than it was a week ago. It then became clear to me that the volume of the rushing water had made its sound more pronounced and mighty, explaining all its attention-seeking uproar.

But I had a mission today. My task was to see or hear fauna. So I treaded the trail as quietly as I could and when I thought I had gone far enough into the forest, I stopped. I looked to my left for about ten minutes and just as I was about to call it quits, out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. Something yellowish fluttered down from a birch tree. The beat of my heart quickened at the hope of having spotted a bird. It twirled in the air, but it had no wings, no body, no head; it was a leaf, gliding to the ground. I talk about this because it happened several times in the thirty minutes I spent looking for fauna, ten minutes on each side (left, center, right). I would be looking at one place to see if I could spot an Eastern chipmunk like I had my first visit here, or maybe hear a woodpecker like I had my second visit, but nothing! Briefly, I could hear crows cackling in the distance, but they weren’t in my site, so they don’t count, technically.

Continuing my stroll on the red and gold carpet I briefly wondered if it was opposite day. At least, that was my take on the sights before me. Many fallen logs that were once dark brown were now covered in luscious green fungi. The fungi felt soft and rugged, and had a rotten smell to it. But the interesting thing was that blotches of fungi only covered the top half of the log; there were very few patches of fungi on the bottom half, and rarely on on the bottom sides.  I noticed the same thing on fallen logs with the polypore (mushroom without a stalk) mushrooms growing on them, they only grew on the top or on the upper sides, acting as soft white selves, but none occupied the bottom half. The wood that hosted both the fungi and the mushrooms felt damp, just like the leaves felt wet and I discerned another relationship in my site.

Filling up the brook wasn’t the only thing that the recent rain had done! As it fell down on the ground, it not only soaked the leaves and trees; it also signaled a green light for the fungi and mushroom bacteria, which took advantage of the moist state of fallen logs and decaying trees. The fungi and mushrooms sprouted all over the damp logs and then reproduced where it was wet, which would be the top half, because this was the target place of falling rain!

It is amazing how nature works! I thought that nothing was going on today at Ford Glen Brook, but that was only a facade. If you look closer, you can see plenty of activity, from fungi reproduction to red carpet leaf making to water volume rising, it is happening. We just have to look at the small things sometimes to be able to explain the big picture.

Something New Every Time….           By: Claudia Corona     10/02/09

Twenty-five days. That’s the difference between my first journal entry and my present one. A month hasn’t even passed since I first came to Hopkins Forest, but I’m already starting to see things that my eyes had ignored before. I think back to my first encounter with this forest and I marvel at how the forest shows me something new every time I come back.

In my first entry I proclaimed that there were few different plant and wildflower species in Hopkins Forest, but as I walk down the trail and towards the brook, my eyes show me differently. I identified over 20 different plant species in my site along the Ford Glen Brook (with the help of my peers and professor).

One of the first things that caught my eye was a Jack In The Pulpit, a plant with an onion-like stout shooting up from the ground with a cluster of berries all around the top. I could see why birds were so attracted to this plant, the berries were bright red, as if to say, “Eat Me!”, and I would have, had I not been previously told it wasn’t tasty to humans and when I squeezed the berries, they didn’t have an edible smell to them.

However the Northern Bedstraw I had seen earlier, recognized by their long plant stems with clustered white flowers in a ball-shaped form, had a sweet smell to them and apparently are edible (good for survival purposes).

Continuing on the trail, I felt like I was in a game of hide-n-seek with the plants, since I was trying to discern what they were. I looked closer at the plants cluttered about the sides of the trail, and I immediately spotted some Northern Lady Fern, with its fronds (fern leaves) tripinate (feather-like leaves) still dark green. This is not to be confused with the Christmas Fern, another plant I saw, known by its stout stalks and evergreen lanced-shaped toothed fronds.

Next to the fern was a Striped Maple, spotted because of its huge leaves (of 6 inches). The leaves were crown-shaped with 3 pointy elf-like ear lobes. On the left side of the path, I spotted (gotcha!) some white wildflowers. But upon closer observation, they were two different plants of the Aster Family. One was White-snake root; white rayless, toothed flowers, clustered together on firm smooth branches. The other was White-wood aster, with many white rays around a yellowish disk, there were few flowers per branch.

Ahead there were some other white flowers but with a purplish center and heart-shaped leaves known as Heart-leaved aster. Next to it was the dreaded shrub honeysuckle (an invasive species) with its simple oval evergreen leaves. I was not able to discern much more about it as the shrubs no longer had their infamous bell-shaped flowers. Opposite that, on the left side of the road were various shrubs of Japanese Barberry, known for their long tree stems that grow very small leaves (about 1-2 cm) as with bright red egg-shaped berries hanging from the stem.

At the beginning of my journaling, I was under the impression that there weren’t rocks here, but boy was I wrong!  As the trail slopes down at the beginning there is a tough patch of dirt, tougher than the dirt farther into the forest. I decided to check it out and removed the dirt from one small site. To my surprise, I found a rock-solid floor! Apparently, the fact that this was on a slope eroded most of the soil and leaves here, which left a thin layer of dirt on solid rock. I wasn’t able to take a sample from the rock, but later on, down by the brook, I found two types of rocks. One could easily be scratched by my pocket knife, this was phyllite, known for being shiny, with crinkly brittle rocks layers. The other almost broke my knife’s edge, leading me to believe it was quartzite; light, hard, and knife-proof.

I noticed that the ground was still damp from the recent rain. The air smelled of moist wood bark and wet soil. It smelled of dead plants and rotten leaves. The rain must have kicked up dust from the ground because there was definitely a stronger earthly smell than usual. But it no longer smelled of summer flowers, but of autumn fresh, a scent I’ve never familiarized being from a downtown urban city, but now find comforting, crisp, and calming.

The Path Less Traveled By  –Claudia Corona

From Williamstown, the way to Ford Glen Brook is mildly long, but it is so within good reason. The way to Ford Glen Brook is a transition, from the bustling town, to the quiet houses along Bulkley street, to NorthWest Hill road; where forest land becomes more pronounced, until finally you reach gravel road, announcing the beginning of Hopkins Forest, and the entrance to a world with not much to say, but lots to show.

Straight ahead on Northwest Hill Road you see a huge house-like sign with an emblem on it that says: “Hopkins Forest”. This road diverges into two, one leads to the Rosenberg Center and the other beat up path continues up. Look ahead into the distance of Northwest Road (on the right) and you’ll be able to see the Ford Glen Brook bridge, and you’ll know this road less traveled by is the one you need to take.

Walking across the bridge, you’ll hear as well as see the stream run along the rocks below. This stream isn’t wide, like the Hudson river, or very long, like the Mississippi river, but it’s just as important to the thirsty trees, the parched squirrels, and the dry soil, as any other body of water is to their surrounding environment. About 99 feet from the bridge, there is a path to the right that opens up into a trail about 7 feet wide. This trail is known as the Ford Glen Brook trail, and it is the path you’ll take to get to your destination.

As you make the turn you’ll see two fallen logs, about two feet long, right in front on the path. And then up ahead, there will be a huge horizontal white bar in the way of the trail. This bar is not to keep people away but to impede motor vehicles from entering. About 10 feet before you get to the bar, there is a little footpath on the left that goes around the white bar, and enables you to keep on walking on the trail. Once you get back onto the main trail, you’ll notice that you can hear running water nearby, that is Ford Glen Brook that you just walked over, and the trail is actually adjacent to the brook, so you’ll be able to hear the stream as it runs over and under rocks all throughout your time on the trail. You’ll also notice a lot of leaves on the ground as you follow the trail and go deeper into the forest. The amount of leaf litter is definitely more than usual, and is due to the trees shedding their leaves. Since the days are getting shorter and shorter, the photosynthesis that trees can produce is limited, thus causing them to shed their leaves to sustain energy and “rest” during winter.

Walking down the trail, you’ll notice lots of flora on either side of the path. The bright green lance-shaped leaflets are Northern Lady Fern. The smooth branching stems bearing tiny, white rayless flowers are White Snake Root. The trees with the grayish-white bark are paper birch trees and the really tall(100-120 feet high) dark brown trees with crooked lines running parallel to each other and crown rounded leaves are sugar maples. About 40 feet ahead of the metal bar, the ground floor becomes more visible as the leaf litter lessens, and it will feel muddier and be a dark brown color. The trees during these next 45 feet are farther away from the trail and more clustered together, so their leaves tend to fall in one general direction, usually, not on this part of the trail. Walking on, you’ll pass a huge Sugar Maple tree with about 2-3 feet in diameter. A couple of steps ahead, there is a fallen log that looks to have been embedded into the trail, that you have to step over in order to continue exploring. But wait a second. If you stop and look at the right side of the log-step closely, you’ll notice a small, about three feet long, foot trail. Walk on the trail, and a few feet ahead, there will be some fallen birch trees scattered across your path. But you’ve gone too far to be stopped by some fallen logs now! So climb over them and once you’re over that (a couple steps ahead), you’ll have a great view of the Ford Glen Brook stream running along!

3-season video of Ford Glen Brook woods