Yesterday afternoon it snowed. To my eyes, backed with my wild imagination, it looked like we were having a blizzard. After all was said and done the snowfall measured a whopping 1/2 inch. So much better than nothing. The kid in me, delighted. January 16, 2021.
Magic. A long abandoned silky spider web. A burst of inches of snow. Decorations for a wonderful winter. Today’s lunch was accompanied with snow showers. Not enough to provide trimmings but enough to fill my heart with joy.
And now, this afternoon, a tiny rush of snow looking like a miniature blizzard to someone with a wild imagination. Leaving a dusting.
Image Dec 2017.
Winter. Crisp cold days when hot chocolate comes to mind. White landscapes if I am lucky. Otherwise black and white, pen and ink vistas. The best of all seasons when little White-throated Sparrows, Zonotrichia albicollis, keep me company. Cheer me with their song.
I love Yucca flowers. There are 2 different yucca species growing in my yard, each blooming in a different season. Yucca filamentosa, which is native to Virginia, blooms in early summer. And this one, Yucca gloriosa, native to extreme southeastern Virginia, blooms in early autumn.
Remarkable that they both are native to this state, since I wasn’t aware of the yucca plant until I moved to New Mexico many years ago. The blooms attract moths, butterflies, bees and hummingbirds. For me the blooms represent special memories of a beautiful state.
Evening. Last day of summer 2020. I am SO looking forward to a new season. A change of direction. Some positive actions and thinking in all this insanity. Up instead of down. Bright instead of bleak. Health instead of sickness. Bring on AUTUMN.
Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) is an incredible magnet for pollinators.
A few mornings ago I found a surprise among the fragrant blooms of my milkweed. I’m accustomed to seeing Honey Bees, knowing they are not native to North America but I hadn’t given thought to there being any other world travelers visiting my mountain.
Several Giant Resin Bees (Megachile sculpturalis) were collecting pollen. These bees are native to eastern Asia and arrived on our shores, accidentally, and identified in 1994. The word “giant” in its common name is appropriate since these measured in at close to an inch.
Giant Resin Bees look for nooks and crannies, crevices and holes in trees, downed logs and debris for a place to nest. They will sometimes displace native Carpenter Bees, finding the holes the Carpenter Bees create the perfect spot for their nest. It is still unknown whether these nonnative bees will have a deleterious effect on our native bees. Stay tuned.
Such strange times. Staying home ALL the time. Just me and my dear husband in the mountains in the middle of the forest. He’s able to focus. Cutting down trees that have grown up too close to our cabin. Pulling out his N gauge train set from long ago. I on the other hand am finding it hard to focus and get things done.
I did accomplish something this afternoon, in this odd stay at home time, I spent time baking. Those of you who know me won’t be surprised. I baked an apple pie. Gala apples. And yes, we have some ice cream to go with it. Comfort.
I’ve given up on winter. On the kitchen table today — SPRING.
American Robins, Turdus migratorius. Some migrate. Some don’t migrate. Either way, during winter they are often seen searching for earthworms, grubs, fruits and berries. Here at my cabin it’s not unusual to see flocks of robins congregating in the frigid temperatures, eating and taking advantage of the birdbath I keep thawed with a water warmer. I don’t look to them as a sign of spring.
When I see flocks of Robins I look for their buddies Cedar Waxwings, Bombycilla cedrorum. They often go for the same fruits, berries and thawed water. It doesn’t matter to me what they represent or don’t. I love to have them around.
A whole season without putting out sunflowers seeds, peanuts, peanut butter, suet. I survive since the hummingbirds keep me entertained. Fifteen or twenty of the swarming, going round and round the cabin, slurping up their syrup. Now they’re gone. Time for the other birds to keep me company again. Carolina Wren, Thryothorus ludovicianus.
