Author: Brenda Clements Jones

Brenda is a certified Virginia Master Naturalist, a Habitat Defender for Shenandoah National Park, and a devoted fan of Mother Nature. She lives in a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Shenandoah National Park, and hikes up to the higher elevations of her mountain often to see what nature is up to. Her constant hiking companion is a camera that captures nature as it unfolds through the seasons. It’s her goal to share the natural world around her through her photographs.

Flowering Dogwood

The Flowering Dogwood trees (Cornus florida) here in my neck of the woods are just beginning to open as the Eastern Redbud blooms (Cercis canadensis) are on their way into decline. That’s the pattern every year. A slight overlapping of their big show. Like homemade vanilla ice cream with home grown strawberries on top.

In case you didn’t know, what are thought of as petals on a Flowering Dogwood bloom are not petals at all, but are modified leaves called bracts. The actual flowers of the Flowering Dogwood are those tiny yellow-green things in the very center.

No matter what the parts of a Dogwood flower are called they are a shout for glee in the mountains.

As the season continues and they’re no longer paired with their buddies, the Redbuds, they are still something that makes my heart light.

Something that calls to me to bring my camera for an outing.

As the light changes, another chance for an altered glimpse of those four white bracts with their yellow-green flowers.

Flowers on trees that intrigue me. Flowers that are just an added benefit.

And here a Blue Jay, an additional added benefit.

A Cardinal? What more could I want!

And once those flowers and bracts are gone, still pure delight as the seasons roll on. Be sure to watch those leaves. I kid you not, they begin ever so slowly to turn to red in late June. Slowly slowly slowly.

Autumn offers up berries for the critters of the forest. Berries that last what seems but a brief moment.

Hints of winter as the leaves fall. But look my beloved Flowering Dogwood trees are planning ahead. Those buds. That is spring on its way.

Spring indeed is planned for. Buds in the waiting. But the trees must go through winter. More delight!

That plan for spring the trees have made? They survive. They survive through snow, ice and cold. They survive through the wondrous winter and come into spring with blooms as their buddies, the Redbuds are blooming. Like homemade vanilla ice cream with home grown strawberries on top.

Our Native Violets, Host Plants to Fritillaries

Something important to think about. Our native violets are the most important host plant for caterpillars of many Fritillary Butterflies.

And for a good number of them these violets are their only host plant.

Fritillary Butterflies fall into one of two genuses. Either Greater or Lesser. And as you might expect the larger of the butterflies are in the Greater category, or genus Speyeria. The Greater Fritillaries are a group of fourteen species. One of those species is the Great Spangled Fritillary.

The Variegated Fritillary is one of the Lesser Fritillaries. And of course is a smaller butterfly. There are sixteen butterfly species in this genus, Bolloria. Though it certainly has a similar coloring to the Great Spangled Fritillary which can be confusing, I know.

All fourteen of the Greater Fritillaries depend entirely on violets as their host plant. Which means their caterpillars will only survive by eating leaves of violet plants.

The Lesser Fritillaries’ caterpillars do also eat violet leaves but will eat other things as well such as passionflower.

Violets are not a nectar source for butterflies but considering their role as a host plant for their caterpillars, violets are very important in the world of butterflies.

Keep this in mind as you’re out weeding in your garden. Perhaps you can let some violets into that precious space.

Keep this in mind as you’re looking over your perfect lawn. Perhaps you can let some violets in here and there.

Or perhaps there is some shady spot in your yard where violets would love to share your world and help out Fritillaries.

Rattlesnake Fern

My apologies if you are creeped out by references to snakes. Rattlesnake Fern is the common name for Botrypus virginianus. Some say the common name comes from it growing in rattlesnake territory. However its range is across all the United States and nearly all of Canada with the exception of its far northern territories. Others say the clusters of spore-bearing capsules resemble a rattlesnake’s tail. I think the second option makes more sense. Are you breathing a sigh of relief now?

In the spring on a single stem, a single leaf emerges which has two distinct parts. A sterile leafy part and a fertile spore-bearing part.

An image of a nymph of an assassin bug waiting for his dinner to come by.

As spring turns into summer these two leaf parts senesce (wither away with age), the spores having matured by July. I’ve seen these ferns often as I wander looking for photos in the woods. One has even volunteered in one of my gardens. So much joy in the woods.

Blueberries

I’m watching both the progress the blueberry blooms are making as well as the calendar. Watching the blossoms grow and mature. Watching the weeks go by on the calendar. Right now in early April there are only tight buds on the many bushes.

And it’s hard to say since this is weather related and as we all know the weather can be extremely capricious. Hard to say when the blooms will be open.

Hard to say when the butterflies and bees will be called to the blueberry flowers. Called by the nectar and pollen. Called to pollinate the blooms that will become delicious morsels of goodness.

It will seem like forever to me. Going from compact buds to petite orbs. Forever and still not exactly what I’m waiting for.

Slowly slowly those petite orbs will swell. And go from apple green to a lavender blush to finally deep blue. But I’ve learned over the years I can’t be too quick. Those first berries looking so luscious blue are still lavender blush on the other side. The far side hidden and waiting to fool me. Be patient. They will turn totally inky blue with a white bloom with time. That’s what it’s all about. Patience and waiting.

I’ll be waiting. All this time. Waiting to pull out simple ingredients.

Waiting to turn those berries, those luscious inky blue with white bloom berries into blueberry pies. Other things too, but oh those pies!

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds

Tomorrow one hummingbird feeder will go up on my front porch. The time is about right, but I don’t know exactly when to expect my first Ruby-throated Hummingbird (Archilochus colubris). I want to greet whoever shows up first, with a welcome mat and a feeder with its favorite syrup. The recipe: 1/4 cup sugar to 1 cup water, NO food coloring.

The season will start out very slowly. Male and female hummingbirds ready for mating season. Females, totally in charge of nesting. Selecting the site, collecting the materials and building the nest. Oh, I wish I’d discover one of those tiny nests. Over all these years of watching hummingbirds. Looking for the nests. No luck. By mid July into August, with juveniles at the feeders as well, I’ll be putting out many more feeders. They’ll be emptied quickly by the entertaining hungry little critters. Keeping me busy with great demand for many bags of sugar.

Many flowers await the hummingbirds as well, not just the feeders filled with syrup. In the image above Scarlet Beebalm (Monarda didyma) calls to the incredibly little bird. Also planted around my cabin, Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis) and a native honeysuckle, Trumpet Honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens) provide nectar for the birds.

The hummingbird above is a male juvenile. See his speckled throat? Those feathers will soon become the ruby color we all know and watch for. An iridescent ruby, showing up as black unless the light is just right. I’m so looking forward to having these travelers back. They bring with them luggage. Luggage filled with pure levity.

Mock Strawberry

Originally from India. Mock Strawberry (Potentilla indica). It appears very much like Wild Strawberry (Fragaria virginiana).

If you’re looking for the marvelous experience of eating Wild Strawberries more than likely you will be disappointed. The Mock Strawberry has very little flavor and is quite dry. But if you’re feeling adventuresome, it is edible.

You’ll find Mock Strawberries blooming in April. I’ve just wandered looking for blooms but didn’t come up with any flowers to photograph. So, they’ll be blooming soon. Their blooms are striking yellow, while Wild Strawberry blossoms are white with yellow centers. Keep that in mind. Yellow blooms are the Mock Strawberries.

The berries themselves are a bit different. While Wild Strawberries have seeds that are set into dimple like depressions in the fruit, and moist, the Mock Strawberry seeds are set on the surface of the round fruit which is dry. Leaves? Very similar. Each of their leaves is compound, composed of three leaflets. The edges of both leaves are serrated but the tips of those serrations on the Mock Strawberry leaves are more blunt, the serrations of the Wild Strawberry are more sharp. Best of luck with your berry hunting and let me know what you find.

Color

Oh color! I adore rich colors. Like in this photo of Virginia Bluebells just beginning to open in a back garden. White to soft pink to rich yummy pink to lavender and then periwinkle blue. Soon they will all be azure blue. I like the mixture in this image. Hmmm. This would make a lovely pastel painting.

To think that early on I was frightened to use color in my artwork. I used charcoal, pencil, crayon all black and white. My very favorite was to use a fine nib pen with India ink. Hatch marks with that fine nib and India ink would create such texture. I still use hatch marks, but love to add color.

Wild Strawberries

Their leaves are out there waiting. Possibly waiting for warm weather to inspire flowers. Wild Strawberries (Fragaria virginiana). Waiting for just the right day? angle of the sun? temperature? Maybe all of those things and others that haven’t even occurred to me.

But in past years there have been blooms as the calendar’s top page turns to April. Not this year. April 1 brought a treat for me, snow most of the day but with no accumulation. Surely temperatures that allow snow to fall would be a bit discouraging for Wild Strawberry blooms. But soon.

The little plants that volunteer in my gardens mischievously establishing themselves right where I’d rather they no be. Plants that show up within my sloping gardens where I’m not so fastidious. They’ll produce something wonderful.

Tiny luscious strawberries. Ripe Wild Strawberries in late May or early June? Maybe. A remarkable flavor. More intense than the best cultivated strawberry you’ll ever come across. Wondrous.

Wild Peach

Now blooming in the woods, a native to China.

It’s believed that Hernando de Soto brought the first Peach Trees (Prunus persica) to North America in 1539.

Now innumerable cultivars of those trees populate orchards. Thank goodness for those orchards. Peaches make summer so wonderful. And a tossed seed will eventually result in a random tree adding a spark of sweet pink to the woods.

Mayapple

Mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum) is a perennial herbaceous plant that is native to eastern North America.

In the past few days Mayapples have been poking their noses up through the surface of the earth in one of my gardens. The beginning of a beautiful process. They emerge with their leaves, either one or two, folded like a work of meticulous origami.

As time passes the leaves expand, reaching to greet whatever or whoever might be witnessing the process.

If there are a pair of leaves those two leaves will share a stem that forks. In the axil of the stem there will be a bud which opens to be about 2 inches wide, a circle of 6 to 9 waxy white petals.

More than likely these Mayapples are genetically identical, growing from rhizomes spreading in the soil. Making pollination of the flowers unlikely since genetic diversity is needed.

As mid-summer arrives the leaves will go dormant leaving their home as if they had never been there, until the next spring, when it will happen all over again.