Jumbles of prairie plants tangle together in a complex array of shapes and textures under a moody sky. Prickly coneflower disks, clouds of goldenrod seedheads, buttons atop single stalks, soft globes of New England asters, narrow wisps of grasses, arching red osier dogwood stems.
The midday sun is hidden by brooding clouds. Today’s temperature is 43 degrees, and I shiver in the breezes.
Blue tubing is being strung in the sugarbush! In the spring, the crew will tap the trees. Plan to visit once the sap starts flowing, so you can follow the process — and maybe taste the maple syrup, too!
Visitors will spot blue tubing woven between the trees near the Japanese Garden in preparation for maple syrup season.
Leafless trees reveal Wood Duck Pond behind them. A few wild turkeys peck at the ground nearby. Most other birds must be hunkered down for the day.
Leafless trees reveal a clear view of Wood Duck Pond.
Escaping the cold, I head indoors to the conservatory, where plants grow lush in the humid warmth. Most residents here are not native to Minnesota and would not survive our winter. But I find a beautiful pitcher plant, which can often be found wild in a northeastern Minnesota tamarack bog. Just steps away, I find a second pitcher plant just above my head. Its “pitchers” hang below the pot from long, curved stems. Pitcher plants are carnivorous. Their pitchers fill with rain, attracting mosquitoes, who have a difficult time escaping. The plant exudes enzymes that help it absorb nutrition from the insect.
Nearby is a bloom that resembles our Minnesota state flower: the lady’s slipper. The colors and patterns are different, and I wonder where it is from. Nearby, a stunning orchid blossoms in deep pink on white.
Exotic orchids and pitcher plants thrive in the warmth and humidity of the Meyer-Deats Conservatory.
At the base of a tree, I spot a half-eaten mini-pumpkin. Some lucky squirrels or chipmunks have been enjoying a gourmet lunch! Most of the fall berries seem to have been eaten or hoarded by industrious birds saving for their future.
Lucky wildlife dine on the remnants of pumpkins and squash left over from the fall season.
Wispy yellow ribbons of witch hazel flowers catch my eye. These tiny petals are only about three-quarters of an inch long but are a joy to find this time of year. They grow on a shrub that is historically known for medicinal uses, and it has threatened status in Minnesota.
Witch hazel blooms in late fall in Minnesota.
As the afternoon darkens, lights begin to appear in preparation for the Winter Lights experience this evening. As I wend my way to the exit, I see firepits being lit and hot cocoa being prepared by the diligent staff. I’ll have to return soon!
Mary Beth Pottratz is a Minnesota Master Naturalist Volunteer. More information about the program is available on their website.