The Mystery Tree Found in Autumn Hill Reservation

Not everyone gets to discover and report on a new invasive species in one's adopted home town. Though there were a couple kinds of invasive plants that I caught early enough to hopefully keep from spreading through town--thorny mile-a-minute and more recently the dreaded common buckthorn--this particular discovery is different, in that people have yet to agree on what it is. How strange it can feel, in a time when the internet can instantly tell you everything about everything, to find a plant to which no one can with certainty give a name.

I first encountered a single specimen of the mystery tree while conducting a plant inventory in Roger's Refuge in 2007. Only in the past few years have I found it proliferating in Herrontown Woods and Autumn Hill Reservation. 

Some call it a shrub, though when it grows to 30 feet, maybe it's time we start calling it a tree. There's agreement that it is in the genus Pourthiaea--a name that people will struggle to spell and pronounce (my attempt at a pronunciation is "pore-THEE-uh"). In a discussion on iNaturalist, the citizen science site for reporting and identifying species, some try to call it asian photinia (Pourthiaea villosa)--a nonnative shrub that likely escaped from Princeton-based nurseries long ago.

They are surely wrong, as the leaf shape and fall color of asian photinia are clearly distinct. This bright golden yellow is increasingly prettifying and clogging Princeton's greenspaces, from the Institute Woods in the west to Autumn Hill in the east, creating dense, exclusionary stands as it spreads beyond Princeton to proliferate across New Jersey. 

John L. Clark, a Princeton-based botanist frequently posting on instagram from the forests of Equador, has done a great deal of research into our mystery tree. Since the Pourthiaea genus originated in China, John tracked down a couple Chinese botanists to seek their insights. 

One, D.Y. Hong, responded that he was too old to take on the challenge of identifying the tree.

Another, Bin-Bin Liu, was also apparently unable to assist. John laments that botanists now trained in phylogenomics can identify gene sequences but not the actual physical plants themselves. 

There have been various species names thrown at the mystery tree--lurida, lucida, arguta--but none clearly stick thus far. Through Mike Van Clef, I learned of Jean Epiphan, a northern NJ plant expert at Rutgers, who had arrived at the species name "parvifolia", and even came up with a common name, "littleleaf photinia." Originally introduced in 1908 at the Arnold Arboretum," it's popping up in Morris County and, according to Jean, matches our mystery tree in Princeton. She has not seen it being sold in nurseries, and speculates that it is spreading from specimens in old estates. She sent a couple links (here and here) with descriptions, and a mention of it in Dirr's encyclopedic Manual of Landscape Plants.

Some sticking points, though, are that the link she sent to a photo has now gone dead, and the description is of a shrub less than ten feet high. A photo sent by Pat Coleman from Bowman's Hill Wildflower Preserve also matched our mystery tree in Princeton, but no word as yet whether they've come up with a name.

One thing to call the mystery tree is pretty, as are many invasive shrubs, both when they bloom and in the fall. This fall in particular, Autumn Hill Reservation was a jubilant jumble of colorful invasive shrubs, led by the bright red of winged euonymus, joined by the rich colorations of Linden viburnum and the golden yellows of the asian photinia Even the lowly privet got into the color game with an appealing dark bronze. 

When surrounded by such a dazzling visual display, it takes work to remind oneself that something important is being lost as these introduced species gain dominance in the understory. Their success and dominance is enabled in part through being rejected by deer, which prefer a diet of native plants. Thus, our eyes are well fed while the wildlife find themselves living in an increasingly inedible forest. 

As we lose many of the native trees dominating the canopy--chestnut, elm, ash, and now the beloved beech--the extra light reaching the understory drives the extravagant growth of nonnative shrubs. Surrounded by such a thorough invasion of nonnative growth, it is extraordinarily intimidating to contemplate the work involved to shift the balance back to the spicebush, blackhaw viburnums, blueberries, hollies, sumacs, and other natives currently getting smothered beneath the rising tide.

Native shrubs and trees don't exactly lack color. Here's a dogwood that was mixed in and easily confused with the mystery invasive. Note the way the leaves are paired rather than arising one at a time along the stem. 

All the invasive shrubs currently dominating were at one time, long ago, in a similar state, just starting to pop up here and there. Clearly there was no one back then able to see the future and take early action. In our era, the consequences of inaction are readily apparent. What is special about this moment in the history of Autumn Hill Reservation is that the mystery tree is still early enough in its invasion, and easy enough to spot in fall, that it can be stopped.  

Update:

Where found thus far:

• Rogers Refuge, Herrontown Woods, and Autumn Hill in Princeton
• Possible sighting in the Institute Woods in Princeton
• Bowman's Hill Wildflower Preserve
• Jockey Hollow and the NJ Brigade Area in Morris County
• Tourne Park, in Boonton

Update: A big thank you to "anonymous" in the comment section, who provided a species name and links to herbarium photos:

"Thanks for alerting us to this newly naturalized species. One of the best resources for documentation of plants on a global scale is GBIF. Reviewing the gallery of specimens online, the name leaves to appear to bear a resemblance to Photinia parviflora. https://www.gbif.org/occurrence/gallery?taxon_key=5363981"

Each photo at the link bears the name C.K. Schneid. Look at the wikipedia page for Camillo Karl Schneider and you'll find that he was a German botanist who traveled to China in 1913 to collect plants and seeds. His next stop was the Arnold Arboretum in Boston, where the species is said to have been introduced five years earlier by Wilson in 1908.

Each photo shows that the now accepted species name is not parvifolia but instead parviflora. 

Applied name Photinia parvifolia (Pritz.) C.K.Schneid.
Accepted name Pourthiaea parviflora (Cardot) Iketani & H.Ohashi

That puts into question the common name "little leaf photinia", since "parviflora" means little flower. 

So, we're not really there yet. 

Poison Hemlock Popping Up in Princeton

When mathematician and Herrontown Woods volunteer Robert Budny reported that he had found lots of poison hemlock growing in his yard in Princeton, I was at first surprised. I somehow got it in my mind that he was talking about water hemlock--a rarely encountered native wildflower, of which I have come upon a grand total of one growing in Princeton's preserves. 

Robert was quite sure of his find, and said he'd experienced skin irritation while cutting the numerous plants down.

Then I saw this patch of white along Snowden, which too was surprising, since I pass there almost daily yet had never noticed before these tall plants covered in blooms. Maybe it was Robert's sharing of his backyard encounter that primed my eye to take notice.

These, too, proved to be poison hemlock, with broad disks of tiny white flowers. 

and lacy compound leaves. Other plants with white disks of flowers this time of year are the shrubs elderberry and silky dogwood, but they don't have finely dissected leaves like this poison hemlock. 

Though Princeton has many invasive species, those in the carrot family have been few. Goutweed spreads through some gardens. It gets mixed in with the intended plants and can be very hard to eradicate. My neighbor up the street was somehow able to do it, though, through sheer persistence. Wild carrot (Queen Anne's Lace) shows up occasionally along roadsides. It's a beautiful plant, but I've seen it become too much of a good thing in the midwest. Here's information on which members of the carrot family behave invasively in Wisconsin. It includes a useful description of this plant family.

"Many members of the carrot family (Apiaceae) are invasive in Wisconsin. These herbaceous biennials and perennials have alternate, compound leaves with sheaths at the base of leaves. Many small, 5-petaled flowers are arranged in compound umbels (several small umbels combine to make larger umbels). Of the species that are invasive, all have white flowers except wild parsnip, which has yellow flowers. Seeds form in pairs and stems are hollow at maturity."

There are other invasive plant species that, entrenched elsewhere in NJ, are just starting to show up in Princeton. Jetbead and Mile-a-Minute are examples. Catching these early and preventing them from spreading means fewer aggressive plants for gardeners and preserve managers to deal with in the future.

Related posts:

Pulling Jetbead

Mile-a-Minute Spreading into Princeton

Nature at the Princeton Battlefield

(Thanks to those who commented. Scroll down for an update.)

As a lover of both nature and history, I experience the Princeton Battlefield differently than most. There's gratitude for its preservation, along with some grieving for the way the land is managed. Nature here is pushed to the fringes, as if to replicate a giant ballfield. But the battle took place on a working farm, not an athletic field. 

The Clark House has been restored, its 18th century charms highly valued. So why would the landscape not be similarly treated? In the winter of 1777, the soldiers would have been treading through corn stubble, or pasture, or an orchard. 

One answer would be that visitors and re-enactors benefit from a clean surface. The question then would be how much to mow and where, so that people could enjoy a lawn, but also have areas that evoke more a feeling of the 18th century. 

As I walk across the field, I feel a sense of space more than place. Perhaps if I tried I could feel grandeur, or solemnity. Graveyards are mowed, after all. A big sky and a big field help us to understand that something big happened here, when a nation was being born, its future stretching far off towards the horizon. Maybe the landscape works in some spiritual way to evoke freedom and possibility. But as I walk these hallowed grounds, I'm also feeling a sense of a long ways to go before reaching anything interesting. Okay. Perhaps that long trudge could generate some appreciation for the long overnight march of Washington's amateur army from Trenton to Princeton. 

One tree stands in the middle of the giant lawn, an offspring of the great Mercer Oak that had witnessed the battle and lived through two more centuries before falling to a windstorm in 2000. Trees growing at the time of a great battle are called witness trees. The soldiers who fought that pivotal battle are long gone, but centuries later a tree, especially the long-lived white oak, could still claim "I was there!"

The offspring was donated by Louise Morse, spouse of Marston Morse, a mathematician who Oswald Veblen helped bring to the nearby Institute for Advanced Study in the 1930s. It was Veblen's initiative to acquire the 600+ acres behind the Battlefield that later became the Institute Woods.

The sign tells the story of the white oak and General Mercer. What I've come to look at, though, is not the highly symbolic tree but a thin sliver of golden brown in the distance. 

Beyond the lawn, towards the back of the Battlefield, is a meadow that is mowed once a year. For some reason they mowed the edge of it this fall but have left the rest, perhaps as winter cover for wildlife.

Taking a closer look, I'm surprised to see that, among the blackberries and prairie grasses, goldenrods and asters, are myriad sassafras sprouts, most of them bright orange this time of year. The meadow is a giant clone of sassafras--one root system with ten thousand heads. Can't say I've ever seen that before. 

To the left of the field is a bedraggled woods, dominated by the skeletons of ash trees killed by the introduced Emerald ash borer. A heroic American tree species silently meets its demise.

Behind the Clark House, and also across Mercer Street to the left of the pillars, more signs of introduced invasive species abound. Rampant invasive porcelainberry is stifling the 1976 bicentennial plantings--flowering dogwoods and daffodils around the edge of the field. As is typical of the landscapes we daily tread, the Princeton Battlefield invests in mowing the grass, while leaving the unmowed areas untended and overrun. Each year the Sierra Club organizes a spirited volunteer day to battle against bamboo near the Clark House. In the past, I would lead a group to cut the aggressive porcelainberry vines off of the bicentennial flowering dogwoods, but it's hard to make lasting progress when unsupported by the state agency that views grounds maintenance of this state park as "mow and go." Now all I do is make annual visits to snuff out a small infestation of mile-a-minute I spotted some years back on the Battlefield grounds.

Surely the soldiers who fought here knew their plants better than most people do today, and would feel disoriented by today's massive lawn surrounded by alien weeds. If I were to envision a battlefield landscape that sought to provide a more historically authentic botanical and horticultural context, I'd imagine some portion of the massive lawn being given over to the sort of landscape the battle was actually fought upon--pasture, orchard, corn field, whatever research shows to have been likely at the time. Along the edges would be native forest rather than tangles of kudzu-like nonnative vines. 

According to its mission statement, the Princeton Battlefield Society seeks to "restore the lands and cultural landscape." Maybe once other admirable goals are achieved, someone in the group will get interested in showing people an authentic 1777 landscape, and get the state parks department to help in the effort.  

To acquire, protect, preserve, and restore

the lands and cultural landscape related

to the Battle of Princeton of 1777;

To enlarge and improve the

Princeton Battlefield State Park;

To educate the public about the Battle

of Princeton, the Ten Crucial Days,

and the American Revolution.

Update, Dec. 23, 2022 : It's not hard to find accounts of the chronic underfunding of maintenance for NJ's state park system. This cuts both ways for Princeton Battlefield State Park. It explains why invasive species run rampant along the fringes of the park, but doesn't explain the large investment in mowing. One could have a mowed area around the house and for the areas of the land used for re-enactments and other events, and for visitors to explore the park (we used to fly kites there). Surely that still leaves large areas that could be managed for meadow. 

Nearby the Institute for Advanced Study grounds provide an example of large areas requiring only an annual mowing. 

Ribbons of mowed grass through meadow at the Battlefield would not only reduce mowing but also invite visitors to explore the full extent of the park. Walking across a vast lawn gives little sense of progress, departure, or arrival, and thus doesn't encourage exploration the way a mowed path does. 

The current management, in which nature is either suppressed by mowing or neglected along the fringes, does not reflect the view of nature held by the battle's greatest hero. George Washington was, among many things, a farmer. He believed plants were so important to a nation's future that he "had a dream of a national botanic garden and was instrumental in establishing one on the National Mall in 1820." 

In our era, when most people suffer from plant blindness, it must seem incongruous that the United States Botanic Garden is located immediately adjacent to the U.S. Capitol building. Plant blindness, according to the botanists who coined the term, "results in a chronic inability to recognize the importance of plants in the biosphere and in human affairs."

With this in mind, some rethinking of how vegetation is managed at the Princeton Battlefield could add to the visitor's experience, and shift some funds from mindless mowing to a mindful restoration of a more historically authentic landscape.

INVASIVE ALERT--Mile-a-Minute in Princeton!!

A new invasive plant has made its way to Princeton. While passing by on a bicycle, I found it growing next to a driveway within sight of the Princeton Shopping Center. It's triangular leaves and curved spines are unmistakeable. "Mile-a-Minute" is it's name--appropriate given its rate of growth.
I'll add to this post when I find out where else it's been found, whether it's officially listed as a noxious plant in NJ, and any details about what to do if you find it. In the meantime, keep an eye out for it. If you find it, let me know, and if it's on your property pull it out!

Update, 3/2011: After stopping by several times to knock on the door, I finally met the homeowner, who was glad to get rid of the weed. We pulled it out before it could make seeds, and haven't seen it since.

Rogers Refuge and the Importance of Stewardship

Looking out on this wetland, you would understandably think you aren't in Princeton anymore. But this broad and beautiful marsh, the centerpiece of Rogers Refuge, is just a short drive upstream from Alexander St, off West Drive.

The Friends of Rogers Refuge (FOHR), which has been quietly caring for this renowned bird sanctuary, turns 50 this year. Comprised mostly of devoted birders, the Friends group grew out of actions by the Princeton Environmental Commission in 1968 to halt filling of the marsh. A prominent ornithologist named Charles H. Rogers was among those who led the campaign.

A conservation easement renewed every ten years has helped to protect the wetland since, but no habitat is protected by a paper agreement alone. Though auspiciously located in the floodplain, between the Stonybrook and the Institute Woods, the habitat benefits from a collaborative effort of the landowner (NJ American Water) the town of Princeton, and the Friends group. For instance, though the wetland receives runoff and groundwater seepage from the Institute Woods, and occasional floodwater from the Stonybrook, the habitat benefits from a steady input of water pumped from the river during the summer months. The water company pays for the electricity to run the pump, the town helps with repairs, and the Friends keep an eye out to respond quickly to any breakdowns. The Washington Crossing Audubon Society not only leads walks there during bird migration in May, but has also funded much of the Friends' efforts to restore habitat and build observation towers. They also funded an ecological assessment and stewardship plan I did for the Friends in 2006.

Talk to members of the group and they will tell you excitedly about the kinds of birds they see at the Refuge. Since birds require habitat, much of the group's active stewardship centers around controlling invasive species. Though the native cattails can be a little aggressive, its the nonnative Phragmitis that poses the greatest threat to a balance of plant life in the marsh. In this photo, the cattails show as dark green, with wild rice appearing as light green in the distance. In the foreground and to the left is the browned remains of Phragmitis reed, killed with low-toxicity, wetland-safe herbicide. When a similar treatment was applied 12 years ago, the void left by the Phragmitis was quickly filled with a great diversity of native wetland species.

The same can be expected this time. Hopefully, another such large scale treatment will not be necessary if there's sufficient followup to prevent the few remnants of Phragmitis from rebounding. It's human nature to shift attention elsewhere when a threat has been greatly diminished, but when dealing with invasive species, that's when vigilance is most needed.

Another example is chocolate vine, which I discovered growing next to the small parking area at Rogers Refuge. This is the only location in Princeton where I've encountered chocolate vine, yet its behavior suggests it could quickly become a problem if left to grow.

Its rapid expansion at Rogers Refuge, up trees and over bushes, should make any homeowner think twice about growing this nonnative species, lest the birds carry its seeds to a nearby nature preserve.

Porcelainberry is another invasive plant that has shown up at the Refuge in recent years, and has quickly begun dominating woodland edges. A look behind the Clark House at the nearby Princeton Battlefield shows how dominating this vine can become if left unmanaged.

Further evidence that a wildlife refuge doesn't take care of itself came a few years ago, when I discovered a third nonnative vine with highly invasive behavior, appropriately named Mile-a-Minute, growing along the driveway that leads to Rogers Refuge. A thorny annual with a distinctive triangular leaf, it too has proven extremely aggressive elsewhere in NJ. We've been fortunate to catch it early in Princeton, and respond quickly before it produces seed and spreads around town.

Heavy browsing from deer has been a problem in past years, but the town's investment in deer culling, since 2000, has not only dramatically reduced car accidents in town but also greatly benefitted habitat at the Refuge and elsewhere. The birders report that the return of a healthy understory of spicebush, previously almost eliminated by the overcrowded deer, has brought back ovenbirds that depend on the shrubs for nesting habitat.

Another challenge that the Friends of Rogers Refuge has faced, as have other Friends groups in Princeton, is vandalism. Again, it's the generosity of volunteers in the community who respond by repairing what is broken, as in this email sent to the Friends:

"I am pleased to report that the informational signs at the Refuge, ripped from their frames on the main platform by vandals a year ago, have been restored. Many thanks to the hard work and generosity of Charles Magee, who remounted them with a more secure system. Visitors can again find pictures and descriptions of some of our most attractive birds close at hand. Thank you, Charles!"

Erich Fromm best captured the ongoing struggle between vandalism and repair in his book, Escape from Freedom:

“The more the drive toward life is thwarted, the stronger is the drive toward destruction; the more life is realized, the less is the strength of destructiveness. Destructiveness is the outcome of unlived life.”

Leading the group in recent years has been Fred Spar (left), with particularly active support from his wife Winnie and Lee Varian (right). Fred reported to me that there was a particularly good spring bird migration this year, perhaps the best they've ever had, due in part to winds that shifted migration routes eastward. From the observation tower can be seen a purple martin house erected in the middle of the marsh by the Friends. It was alive with the comings and goings of the purple martins earlier this summer.

If you stop by this hidden gem, wish a happy 50th to the group that through quiet persistence and dedication has kept Rogers Refuge well cared for.

Buckthorn--A New Highly Invasive Shrub Found in Princeton

For years, I've traveled between Michigan and New Jersey and noted how some invasive plant species that have run rampant in the eastern U.S. have yet to show up in the midwest. That is changing. Last year, I encountered a dramatic example of stiltgrass spreading down a hillside in Michigan, and there are reports of lesser celandine gaining a foothold there as well. Similarly, Princeton had remained free of the common buckthorn--the most invasive shrub clogging midwestern forests. That, too, is changing.

The fateful day came on September 16, 2025. I was standing in a spot I'd passed by many times, near the entrance to the Herrontown Woods parking lot, when I happened to look down and saw that characteristic leaf of common buckthorn--the first sighting, by me and perhaps anyone, of this uber-invasive shrub in Princeton. 

The leaves of common buckthorn (Rhamnus cathartica) have arc-shaped veins, and are described as "sub-opposite," because they can appear to be paired on the twig but are slightly staggered.

Buckthorn gets its name from the two terminal buds, which make the shape of a buck's hoof, with a thorn-like protrusion between them.

This photo from upstate NY shows there can be thornlike protrusions along the trunk as well.

Shunned by deer, buckthorn's combination of massive seed production and shade tolerance allow it to clog forests and bury whole native plant communities under its dense growth. The richly diverse bur oak savannas of the midwest were nearly lost beneath a rising sea of buckthorn. Only botanical sleuthing and the hard work of clearing buckthorn, honeysuckle and other invasive plants from beneath the massive oaks, along with reseeding and prescribed burning, has brought back that plant community. 

The small cluster of young shrubs I spotted at Herrontown Woods has fortunately not yet produced seeds. But anyone who has lived in the midwest knows the potential of buckthorn to grow, seed and spread.

An email to the Stewardship Roundtable group of land managers in NJ yielded some responses. Duke Farms has it, as does the Watchung Reservation. The Friends of Great Swamp have an info sheet on their website, so I suspect it has established itself there as well. Mike van Clef, who deals with invasive plants all across New Jersey, writes: 

Duke Farms definitely stands out! From iNaturalist, there are 64 research grade observations, heavier toward northern NJ but all over the state. I often find it as single immature individuals, especially in northern NJ...which is always a head scratcher because I never seem to find a nearby large fruiting individual...

This photo shows the lingering green of buckthorn in upstate NY. Like many invasive shrubs that evolved in a different climate, buckthorn keeps its leaves longer that native species in the fall. 

Given New Jersey's already long list of invasive shrubs clogging our forests--among them multiflora rose, Photinia, privet, and Linden Viburnum--it's hard to imagine another having much of an impact. Having seen what buckthorn does in other areas of the country, all I can say is "Watch out!"

Early detection and rapid response are key to stopping biological invasions. This is true both of the immune systems protecting our bodies and of land managers caring for nature preserves. At Herrontown Woods, we've done very well with that creed of early detection and rapid response. Lesser celandine and garlic mustard--the bane of many a nature preserve--are now vanishingly rare. Vigilance each year in August has helped keep many areas free of stiltgrass, the most rapid spreading of all. People who care and take action can make a difference.

On a town-wide scale, some early interventions have helped keep the thorny Mile a Minute vine from spreading across Princeton. Though Princeton has hired contractors to help counter at least some invasions in their early stages, it's hard to get private residents--often disconnected from the yards they own--to act collectively to knock out new invasive species before they become a problem. Having fought the good fight, my advice about buckthorn is: be informed, be on the look out, and be proactive. There's also a super handy, targeted, and frugal way for homeowners and professionals to cut and treat buckthorn and other invasive shrubs. Appropriately enough, it's called a Buckthorn Blaster. 

Mile a Minute: New Invasive in Princeton

Keep your eye out for this one. It's a vine that's easy to identify, with a triangular leaf, prickly stem, rapid growth. Pull it out, preferably before it makes its small blue berries, or it will grow like a veil over your plantings. Put it in the trash, not someplace where it will get composted and potentially spread.

Last year, I spotted it and removed it from two locations--along the gravel road to Rogers Refuge and along the edge of the north field at Princeton Battlefield--but not before it had made berries to grow a new batch this spring.

In an ideal world, someone would be paid to, among other things, take early action to prevent a new highly invasive species from getting established in town. This year, Princeton will have, for the first time, a couple temporary workers focused on invasive species removal in town preserves. But that doesn't include state properties like the battlefield.

Mountain Hunting in NJ--The Sourland Mountains

End of the summer, and realizing we hadn't climbed a mountain yet, it was off to the highish hills of New Jersey. There are a few mountains to choose from, if you use the word loosely. Most mountainesque might be the high rise next to the Delaware Water Gap. Closer to home is Baldpate Mountain (highest point in Mercer County!). South Mountain Reservation, sporting hilltop views of the Newark and NY skylines, sounds interesting.

But my daughter and I decided to head up to the Belle Mead Coop for poultry feed and then over to the Sourland Mountain Preserve.

There you find a large parking lot, a pond, a kiosk that actually has a replenished supply of maps, and a trail up into boulder land. Boulders large and small, to climb up or step around, boulders that beg to be sat upon, the better to gaze out upon the others.

The trees, too, like to sit upon the rocks, having little choice, there not being much actual soil.

When first seen, I thought this scene would be rare, but trees are growing upon rocks everywhere.

Black birches are the ones most taken with the boulders.

My daughter caught this incendiary scene,

just before we reached a linear meadow ablaze with Bidens.

I had read of the Roaring Rocks, and we finally found them at the far end of the five mile trail, roaring very quietly. Maybe they roar more loudly when the stream that flows underneath them is swelled by rains. Even without sound effects, they are impressive, and look fun to climb upon if you don't have a small dog that could disappear at any moment into the cracks between them.

On the way back, a sugar maple bent by age and circumstance. Sugar maples in particular gain character with age, reminding me somehow of a pipe-smoking english professor from college days.

I told my daughter that this polka dot boulder field reminded me of 101 Dalmatians. She said it looked more like zombies to her. What will the next generation see?

The linear meadow offered a shortcut back to the parking lot. Most of these right of ways that criss-cross New Jersey, like the one that crosses the Princeton Ridge, are becoming monocultures of mugwort and/or Sericea lespedeza, but this one still has some diversity,

with at least two kinds of native bushclover that I've never seen in Princeton, some towering sunflowers,

Indian grass bending towards the pathway, and the great yellow sea of Bidens.

The walk lasted four hours, though there were cutbacks if we had wanted to shorten it. Just a twenty minute drive, and for anyone who walks the ridge in Princeton alot, whether in Witherspoon Woods, Woodfield Reservation, or Herrontown Woods, the Sourland Mountains Preserve offers many parallels, some new twists, and a fine zigging and zagging through bulked up boulders.