It’s easy to paddle a canoe through a marsh with cattails and muskrat domes, or a beaver pond with water lilies and standing dead trees, but how does one investigate a bog? There is little open water for even small boats. But if you step into the bog you risk getting mired or breaking through the surface and disappearing into the abyss of dark water. Few people dare to venture into them.
Bogs differ from other wetland types, such as marshes. In the Canadian Shield around Parry Sound, they are found in larger, sometimes deep, basins in the granite rock in which there is little water movement. Water accumulates mainly from rain (not from creeks or run-off) so it is nutrient poor. Only specialized plants adapted to this sterile environment can survive. Leatherleaf, Labrador Tea, Sweet Gale, and Cranberry are some shrubs whose roots form a tangled mat on the surface. But intertwining the root mass and dominating the surface layer is the most characteristic plant of bogs, Sphagnum moss. Sphagnum moss is a collective term referring to many species of moss in the Sphagnum genus, all capable of absorbing large amounts of water while still maintaining air pockets for flotation. The moss on the top surface of a bog is green and photosynthetic. The dead moss in the darkness just below decomposes at an extremely slow rate and adds to the acidity of the water. Eventually it falls to the bottom forming organic sediments, which build up very slowly over time. This is peat moss. The partially decomposed and compacted Sphagnum in the sediments is still capable of absorbing and holding large amounts of water, making it valuable to harvest as a soil supplement.
The ability of Sphagnum to hold water is so great that it sometimes results in a “raised dome bog” in which the water table is higher than that of the surrounding area.
At one time it was thought that all wetlands, through biological succession, fill up with sediment and progress through vegetation stages culminating in climax forests, such as the maple and beech forest. This final forest stage is considered to be stable indefinitely unless disturbed by forces such as fire or windstorms. Recent research has determined that some bogs have existed for thousands of years and are actually a climax community. Black Spruce and Tamarack trees may have gained a foothold here and there, while the soggy sphagnum layer persists.
I was introduced to bog walking by naturalist friends who took me to their favourite wetland in Muskoka. It was a mature small bog with no areas of open water evident. The steepness of the slope of the rock shoreline suggested that the water underneath was fairly deep. With apprehension I followed my friends’ lead, took off my hiking boots and socks, and very slowly, one step at a time, followed them out onto the mat. With every step the mat quivered and it was obvious there was water underneath. As I stepped on the mat it would sink until the water was about calf high. I was fearful of breaking through the mat. But this was allayed as I realized the tangle of Leatherleaf and Cranberry roots stretched but did not break. The sphagnum formed a soft carpet underfoot, and I began to enjoy the whole experience. You don’t have to go far out to get totally immersed in the bog environs. We came upon several bog plants such as Three-leaved False Solomon’s-Seal which was in flower. The highlight was the discovery of a Spotted Turtle. It was basking in the sun on a raised hummock of sphagnum at the base of a small Tamarack. Amazingly it allowed us to pick it up and enjoy close looks at the pattern of bright yellow spots on its shell. Being one of the most attractive turtles, it is thought that collecting for the pet trade has reduced its population to the current endangered level in Canada and Ontario. We carefully placed it back in its basking spot and marveled at how fortunate we were to have had such an experience.
I now have my own favourite bog — discovered years ago in the fall while I was looking for cranberries to harvest. It has the prerequisite tangled mat of cranberry roots and sphagnum but is only a few feet deep in most places. As a result of a small inflow of nutrient-laden water from the shoreline of mature forest, some grasses and sedges are present. Perhaps it is better classified as a “fen” rather than a bog because of these differences, but this is a technical distinction. It does have a very rich population of bog plants and possibly I will discover a Spotted Turtle in it one of these years. I visit my bog several times a year to photograph the blooms and insects and just soak up the atmosphere. With each visit, there are often surprises, such as the White Fringed Orchid last year which I had not previously seen there. In “my” bog I have photographed the beautiful Bog Copper butterfly, the male with a violet sheen. Bog Coppers lay their eggs on the underside of cranberry leaves where they survive throughout the winter even if submerged. The adult butterflies take nectar exclusively from cranberry blossoms. Elfin Skimmers, the smallest of our Canadian dragonflies, also live in this bog. The male is mostly a dull powder blue colour, while the female sports a black and white pattern. Because they are only one inch long, the female is often mistaken for a wasp.
Wonderful wildflowers grow in bogs: orchids, laurels, and carnivorous plants such as bladderworts, sundews, and pitcher plants. I tread carefully, trying to minimize my impact on this fragile environment. Each footprint initially leaves a sunken impression but by my next visit these tracks have disappeared as the Sphagnum has rebounded. Nevertheless, in the bog I feel I may be intruding or affecting the ecology so I don’t overdo my visits. I value my time spent there. To me the bog is a very special place.
Bogs, dare to venture in
Date: Mar 09, 2010
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