(August 18) I’ve decided to remove the original introduction to this post to try and hide the location of the bog from plant thieves. My apologies for those who didn’t get a chance to read it before the re-write.
This is on private, unposted land, and is in remarkably good shape. I’ve never seen so many pitcher plants (Sarracenia purpurea) in one place before.
I didn’t get more than ten feet into the bog before I started snapping pictures of the charismatic carnivorous plants. And perhaps I should’ve stayed near the road, because the farther in we went, the harder it became to avoid stepping on the damn things.
Some clumps were dotted with this year’s flowers, while others seemed to have exhausted themselves by flowering last year. Every clump was unique and practically begging to be photographed.
As if the local flies and gnats don’t already have it hard enough, I found a praying mantis stalking through one clump of pitchers. I wonder how many small insects have escaped from its barbed forelegs only to lose their footing on the downward-pointing hairs of a pitcher plant and slip into its acidic stew of digestive juices?
We like to think that all the best places are in public hands, but as this nameless bog demonstrates, that’s not the case — and with almost 75% of Pennsylvania’s 17 million acres of forestland in private hands, how could it be? Unfortunately, we are in the middle of an energy boom, and many of our last, best places are getting trashed in the mad rush for quick profits from unnatural gas and
taxpayer handouts wind energy.
Maybe that’s why I always end up taking so many pictures at these kinds of places. Someday it may be the only proof we have that they ever existed.
See the complete photo set on Flickr.