Curiosity and wonder found in mussel shells

I recently came across some green freshwater mussel shells as large as my outstretched hand. They were piled in a midden by the shore of an upland pond in Kent, where some wild creature seems to have enjoyed a considerable bonanza.

A bit of online investigation afterward helped me identify the shells as examples of the species Pyganodon cataracta, commonly known as the Eastern floater. I had no idea that we had freshwater mollusks in Connecticut that got this big, and it turns out that other species get even larger, reaching 8 to 10 inches in length.

There are plenty of fresh discoveries in these familiar hills when we are guided by curiosity and wonder.

There is so much to observe and think about. Will there be edible mushrooms again this season in the place we found them once before? Will the pair of rattlesnakes observed mating at the beginning of this unusually warm October have a reproductive advantage over those that bred in August?

Why are there pitch pines on some of our ridgetops but not on others nearby? What are the costs and benefits of a wind turbine at this location, or that one?

Asking these questions keeps us open to possibilities. I cannot drive along a scenic road in northwest Connecticut without thinking about the history of past land use that shaped the current landscape.

I map my world in my head the way my children do in theirs when we go hiking. This is the place where we saw the bear. That way leads to the lightning tree. There is the flat rock where we had that great picnic.

I map my neighborhood in the same way. This house is where they have the most intricately carved jack-o’-lanterns. There is a dog in that yard that always barks. That stump used to be one of those silver maples that had to come down when it grew too large for its site.

Children see the world with these eyes, though they may not recognize the reasons why the tree came down, or the dog barks or the forest grew the way it did. This is true for many adults as well. We do not stop to give it thought, or we do not recognize what we have seen or the questions to ask.

From the shells of the Eastern floater, I learned that the pond is likely a habitat for either muskrats or otters, who prefer this species because it is easier to crack the thin shells.

This mussel can tolerate less-than-pristine environments, and indeed the pond is used by farm animals as well as wildlife.

I also learned that there is a whole world of aquatic diversity where I have much still to discover, and that is exciting for a naturalist — and a father who loves to go exploring with his children.

Tim Abbott is program director of Housatonic Valley Association’s Litchfield Hills Greenprint. His blog is at greensleeves.typepad.com.