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.

Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers

Beautiful patterns, holes in tree bark, looking like a sort of Morse Code, is not the work of Martians leaving us a message, or wood boring insects. These holes are the work of a brightly colored, medium sized woodpecker, the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus varius. The photo, above, is a cluster of holes (called sapwells) that I discovered less than a week ago, in an apple tree in front of my cabin. The picture, below, is lines of sapwells in an Eastern Red Cedar. Ruby-throated Hummingbirds are attracted to sapwells, and will drink the sap that the Sapsucker has inadvertently provided for them. The Sapsucker watches for such things, and will chase the mooching hummingbird away.

The Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, during early spring, tests and selects trees that will be the source of food during the coming season. The Sapsucker will consume the sap, and insects, that occasionally get trapped in the sap, coming back many times a day. The same tree may be a source of food for a Sapsucker and his mate, for several years.

If you are concerned about a special tree that is decorated with these sapwells, you might try wrapping the trunk of the tree with hardware cloth, or burlap.

The picture, above, is a male (left) and female (right) Yellow-bellied Sapsucker during a snow storm, last year in my woods. A pair will stay together during the nesting season to raise their young together. Often they will reunite after migrating, sometimes even returning to the same nesting area.

The picture, above, is a male Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.

Sapsuckers are not normally found at backyard feeders, although occasionally they might be found at suet. In the very coldest days of the winter, here in the Blue Ridge Mountains, of central Virginia, I will see Sapsuckers at my water warmer.

A female Yellow-bellied Sapsucker in the picture above.

Both the female and the male share duties, of incubation of their eggs, and feeding of the young, once they are hatched. The eggs hatch in 12 to 13 days. The babies are fed insects, sap, and fruit. Nestlings leave the nest 25 to 29 days after emerging from their eggs, and are fed by their parents for 10 days after leaving the nest. There is one brood per year.

And in the photo, above, a confused Sapsucker? I don’t have an answer. This is not an unusual sight. I’ve captured Sapsuckers in photographs on this utility pole many times. Obviously this little lady would not find any sap flowing. Perhaps she is using the pole as a communication device, as she tap, tap, taps?

My Winter Birds

Perhaps these are my pets, the birds that come to my feeders. Wild birds that give me comfort just by being there. The bird you see in the picture, above, is a winter bird in my area (the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia), a White-throated Sparrow, Zonotrichia albicollis. He has a sweet song that is easy to remember, using the mnemonic, “Poor Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody.”

I know that autumn will not last much longer, when I see these little birds, rustling around in the leaves on the forest floor. I have to look very closely to see them. Their feathers provide a great camouflage against the dry, brown, fallen leaves.

I must wait for the bears to retire for their winter slumber, before I put out the feeders for the cold months of the year. Otherwise I am likely to need to purchase a new feeder. Believe it or not, the bears do like bird seed too, and will carry a feeder off, or just totally destroy one with ease.

The bear, above, came out of his den, unannounced on January 17th, to cart off one of my feeders. He chose a new model that was designed to keep squirrels out. Needless to say, bird feeder designers don’t aim to keep bears out of the seeds. I suppose that would be an impossible task. If I know that bears are roaming, I don’t put out feeders.

I’m hoping Mr. Bear, is now back in his den. Hoping that the cold will keep him all snug and warm, and away from the bird feeders for while longer. Not only do I enjoy simply watching the birds and their antics, I depend on the feeders to bring them within easy shutter range, so that I can get pictures of my winter pets.

Another bird of winter, is the Dark-eyed Junco, Junco hyemalis. Most of them summer in the far north, some going into the Arctic. A few however, do stay in this general area year ’round. I have seen some summering in the Shenandoah National Park, which is just a short distance from my cabin. Here at my feeders though, it is only the migrating Dark-eyed Junco, that I see.

I speak of the wild birds as my pets. I don’t have any “all the time” pets living with me. A frequent visitor, though, is my son’s and daughter-in-law’s cat, Betelgeuse.

That’s Betelgeuse, in the picture above. She’s a rescue, Maine Coon cat. She is a predator. For her own safety and health, and for the sake of my wild pets, she is an indoor pet. I hope your cat is an indoor cat as well, for the sake of my wild pets.

Hackberry

Here on Snow Mountain, in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, I see quite a few hackberry trees, Celtis occidentalis. Most are trees with circumferences of 5 inches or smaller, trees that have not been around long. Their small size may be, in part, because the forest up here is a young forest. Back in the 1950s and 1960s the mountainsides were farmland—no forests. Farm families had a tough existence along the Blue Ridge, with loads of rocks to deal with, and difficulty getting up and down the very steep, dirt roads. Time marches on, and now there is forest up here and very few people.

The hackberry tree is a favorite of mine, simply because of its bark. This bark is what first brought the tree to my attention. It looks like a topographic map, in 3D, warty and corky. I frequently do work in Shenandoah National Park, on the Buck Hollow Trail, and get to see larger, more mature hackberry trees at that location.

Hackberry trees are native to North America. Given favorable conditions, one of these trees could live to be 150 or 200 years of age. They grow to be medium sized trees, 60 or 80 feet tall or taller, depending on the soil and moisture conditions. They tolerate pollution, although only occasionally are they used as a street tree.

The trees’ berries are edible, though I seldom notice them. Summer brings the berries a red-orange color, which turns to dark purple in the fall. Birds love them.

Looking much like a berry, what I do notice, and use as an identifier, are galls that seem to always be on some of the branch tips or just below the leaf on the petiole.

The galls are the home to young nymphs of an insect—the petiole gall psyllid. These insects and their galls do not do major harm to the tree.

Along with the wildlife benefits of the berries, the hackberry tree is also the larval host to question mark, mourning cloak, and American snout butterflies. It is also the nectar source for several other butterflies and moths.

The photograph, above, is of an American snout, who alighted on my camera strap last summer, as I was hiking. A chance encounter with another admirer of the hackberry tree!

Snow Mountain

This morning I was greeted by a tiny bit less than an inch of snow here on the mountain. I skipped yoga (!!) and spent the morning walking and enjoying the sounds of snow. Okay, mainly the sounds of birds enjoying the new, white blanket. Many were robins, and cedar waxwings gathering in the tree tops, exchanging stories of how this winter has been mighty wimpy so far. They agreed with me. The winter is still young. There is still hope.

This first picture, above, is of greenbrier. There’s loads of it up here. It is a native, and though many people don’t like it, it has numerous benefits. Greenbrier provides good cover for small animals, and some animals eat the leaves and stems. Deer, beaver, and rabbits are three of the animals. That they eat this plant, impresses me. Those stems, complete with thorns, must be mighty tough. There is an impressive number of birds that enjoy the berries during the winter, along with squirrel, raccoon and possum.

These red fruits, are rose hips, from a plant that I really wish would just go away. It is a non-native, invasive. Rosa multiflora produces white flowers with yellow centers during its short blooming period. It forms an impenetrable mass, spreads rapidly and has very unfriendly thorns that are hooked backward, making being snagged an unpleasant experience. I’m waiting and hoping. There is a virus that is attacking these walls of thorns, slowly decreasing its population here in the Blue Ridge. I’m sorry that the same virus may be putting your garden rose bushes in jeopardy, but I am cheering it on, in the case of rosa multiflora.

Another plant that I captured in pixels on my walk this morning, smooth sumac. Among the plants that grow up here, I have many favorites. This is one. My favorite time for this sumac is winter, when birds enjoy its brilliant red berries. Cardinals, and many types of woodpeckers are among the visitors to the small trees.

Snow still covers my dirt, twisty turny, steep mountain road, but tomorrow morning I’ll be heading down to go back to yoga class. My “snow day” was a total pleasure. Yoga will be tomorrow’s total pleasure!

Beech

It took a while for me to figure out. Figure out the little trees, clinging dearly to their leaves well into winter. Hanging on as if the trees’ very life depended on it. I would see these trees from the window of my truck, as I would drive past. Such a common sight. Many woods contained the mystery trees.

Finally, I got myself established in my cabin in the woods, moving from, what some might call the city to, definitely not the city. Finally I had time to hike, to identify plants, both large and small, that had been intriguing me. My mystery tree, it turns out is American beech, Fagus grandifolia, a tree native to eastern North America. American beech is not necessarily a small tree, but can grow to be 80 feet tall, with a diameter of 3 feet or more, and can live 300 to 400 years. I was noticing the small trees, simply because they were so visible, their leaves still there, against the otherwise empty forest understory. American beech is a tree that tolerates shade, doesn’t get discouraged, keeps growing, even in the understory.

The leaves are reminiscent of a tree that is near and dear to my heart. It is reminiscent of the American chestnut, having sawtooth edged leaves, a coloring similar to the American chestnut in the fall, and being shade tolerant. It is no wonder. American beech and American chestnut are both in the beech family Fagaceae.

An easy way to tell that you’ve found an American beech, is by looking at the end of the branches, where you will see long, tapered tips that look much like cigars.

Another clue that you have come upon an American beech, is its bark, which is smooth and silver gray, even into old age. The tree is monoecious, which means it gets both male and female flowers on the same tree. The wind does the job of pollination. The pollinated flowers grow into beech nuts, which are eaten by many mammals (including humans) and birds. Every two or three years the tree will produce a bumper crop of these beech nuts. It may take 40 to 60 years for the tree to begin producing these flowers and nuts though.

The American beech reproduces both by seed, and by sprouting seedlings from its shallow roots. It can be found along streams and bottom lands, although it does well, in most any situation, given adequate moisture. Must be moist up here on my mountain. American beech is plentiful up here.

Winterberry

I am in my element now. It is winter. I like to say, whatever season is happening at the moment – it is my favorite, but truth be told, winter is really my favorite. At least for the next few months! I love the stark landscape, very little color (with the exception of black, gray, white, and browns), skeletons of trees. I get to see the unveiled character of trees. Their personality is exposed. They talk to me. But along with that starkness, it is nice to see a rare sprinkling of brilliant color. Much like a black and white quilt. Add just a few crimson patches to all those blacks and whites, and you have a quilt that sings.

A bush that accomplishes that splash of color in my “garden” is winterberry, Ilex verticillata.

I must explain why I have put quotation marks around, “garden.” I live in the mountains, in the middle of the woods. I don’t really have gardens. Things just grow, with very little guidance from me. On occasion I will plant something, or trim something, but I love natives, things that already grow in my woods.

Winterberry fits the bill. A native to eastern North America. Winterberry perhaps, would rather live in a wetland habitat, but after several years at my cabin, it is doing well for me. And doing well for the birds that enjoy its berries, and its shelter, and for insects that benefit from its nectar.

Winterberry is in the holly family. You will see in the picture below, it does not have sharp points on its leaves, but it does lose those leaves during the winter. The winterberry bush is dioecious, meaning that male and female flowers are found on separate bushes, and you must be sure you have at least one male bush. for pollination, to get these beautiful berries.

Winterberry, is perfect for this season. Perfect for brightening up a gorgeous, bleak landscape. And yes, bleak is good!

Happy winter to you and yours!

Virginia Pine

The holidays. They’re here. They’ve got me thinking of pine trees, and pinecones. And I’m wishing for snow. I’ve had a tiny bit of snow already, but I’m ready for more.

This is Virginia pine, Pinus virginiana. I live in a cabin, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, in central Virginia. There are plenty of Virginia pine up here, in part because it is a pioneer plant. Pioneer plants will take over abandoned farm fields. Fifty and sixty years ago these mountains had very few trees. Even in the higher elevations, such as where I live, there were fields of corn, as far as the eye could see. As the corn fields were abandoned, pioneer plants, such as Virginia pine and black locust, took over. There are many other trees up here now, as the older trees, that took over the fields, mature, and make way for other tree species, as the forest matures.

Virginia pine is native from southern New York state, through the Appalachian Mountains, on into Tennessee and Alabama. The tree is small to medium sized, growing to 40 or 60 feet tall. With optimum growing conditions, a tree may reach 100 feet. The tree will tolerate, quite easily, very poor sandy soil, but prefers loam or clay.

The cones on Virginia pine will stay on the tree for several years. Small birds and mammals will eat the seeds from the cones. White-tailed deer will eat the branch tips and needles. The young pines provide shelter for small animals and are a popular tree for woodpeckers, because of the soft wood.

In the picture below, a red-breasted nuthatch is eating pine seeds.

The bark of Virginia pine is a mosaic of loose plates, reddish brown in color. A typical pine bark. The needles, twisted, bundled in pairs, 1.5 to 3 inches in length.

My husband and I may choose to cut a Virginia pine, as our Christmas tree this year. Surely there is one that is just the perfect size and shape. If things go as they usually do, we will wait until it is extremely cold and snowing to bring the tree in from the forest. Cold with blowing snow, perfect weather for cutting down a Christmas tree. I hope that, at the very least, we will have tromped through the woods, and selected and marked which tree will grace our great room, while the weather is pleasant. That being done, the cutting ceremony will be short and sweet, though very cold!

This monarch butterfly, in a picture from early July of this year, may be hinting at its choice for our Christmas tree. I think I’ll give this tree serious consideration!

Witch Hazel

The autumn bloomer. American witch hazel, Hamamelis virginiana. Blooming to catch the last of the lovely purple asters. The asters have been blooming for many weeks now, adding an unexpected color to the color scheme of fall. Their bloom time overlaps, just a bit but I’m getting distracted. I want to tell you about American witch hazel, with blooms of lovely yellow. Four petals for each flower. Petals that look like lemon zest.

As fall reaches its mid-point, the leaves of American witch hazel are a brilliant yellow. Its flowers too, are blooming. At first, one must know. One must look for the blooms. They are not showy and the lemony yellow leaves compete for attention, and pretty much win. As the days pass, the leaves give in to the change of season, and drop to the forest floor, revealing the last blooms in the mountains, till spring returns.

I say mountains. That is where I see American witch hazel. The higher the elevation, here in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the more likely I am to see them. I live at an elevation of 1,800 feet, and in my woods it is unusual to see an American witch hazel, which is a shrub or small tree with many trunks. Further up my mountain, to its summit of 3,586 feet, American witch hazel is a very common sight. I have planted American witch hazel, here in my yard and, so far, have been successful in having them grow.

The shrub, which is native to northeast and southeast North America, grows to 20 to 30 feet in height, and has a width of 15 to 20 feet. In the wild, American witch hazel enjoys moist, shaded sites. The shrub is pollinated by a moth. The moth, and its chilly night pollinating activities has an interesting story, that you can read, here.

The seed capsules that form, after the bloom is pollinated (seen in the picture above, as a fuzzy golden thingy), overwinter. In their second autumn, the seed capsules dry, popping open to send the one or two seeds inside, a distance of up to 30 feet. Fun seed distribution! Ruffed grouse and squirrels eat these seed capsules, and white-tailed deer like to munch on the leaves and branches.

There are many stories of how witch hazel got its name. My favorite story has to do with a gall that is often seen on the leaves. It is the gall of the witch hazel cone gall aphid. It supposedly, made the namer of the shrub think of a witch’s hat, and therefore the name witch hazel. Ive captured this gall in green, in the photograph. You might also see them in a red shade. I have not noticed that these galls, on the leaves, are a serious problem.

This picture, a new American witch hazel leaf in spring. I am looking forward, into the future, hoping that next year will be that magic year. The year that the witch hazel shrubs that I have planted in my gardens, will be mature enough, and will bloom for me.

Toad Lily

Toad lily, Tricyrtis ‘Tojen’

The family of flowers that this hybrid cultivar is from – Tricyrtis – has 18 species. Some of the species are cultivated for their beauty. Looking on the web, at the variety of those cultivars, I think of orchids growing in the garden. They are that beautiful. My cultivars are mundane in comparison to some of the spotted lovelies.

The family, Tricyrtis, is from the area of the Himalayas, China, Japan, the Philippines and Formosa. Seeming to be quite at home here in my garden, they thrive in a moist soil and dappled shade. They are even tolerant of what my winter weather throws its way. Going into a winter sleep, just waiting for spring.

They are blooming right now, in this blustery weather. Tough, but gorgeous flowers. I’m looking forward to their resurrection from their winter beds, as spring comes. Looking forward to showing them even more appreciation, now that I am armed with more knowledge about them.

Spicebush

As the woods are shutting down this fall, there is fruit to be had. Fruit for many birds and small mammals. Fruit for the adventuresome human as well.

These are the berries (also known as drupes) of Spicebush, Lindera benzoin. Berries that turn a brilliant scarlet in September, when the leaves are still a lovely contrast. A contrast, of emerald green. The leaves and twigs, if rubbed in your hands, will give off a pleasant, spicy fragrance. For those adventuresome humans I mentioned, the leaves and twigs can be used to make a tea. The berries can be dried and crushed to be used as a spice. While out today, my curiosity got the best of me. This afternoon I tasted some of the berries. I have to report that I was not impressed. Not unpleasant, but nothing to write home about either.

By late October, the leaves that once were emerald, are now a shining yellow, glowing in the forest. Calling attention to the shrub, wherever it grows. It grows in moist, shady locations, but if it is given just a tiny bit of sun, more berries will be produced.

As the shining yellow leaves drop to the forest floor, it’s easier to see the bark of the small trunks of the shrub. Small trunks that are speckled, as if a pretzel. A pretzel that is the wrong color. A soft grayish brown pretzel.

What is left behind, after the leaves have fallen, is a vision of what is to come. Buds that will wait out the winter.

Buds that will be some of the first awakenings of spring. Buds that paint the woods, in early April, a soft butter yellow. A soft wash that stirs my curiosity.

Buds that become blossoms. Blossoms that open before there are any thoughts of leaves. Blossoms of butter yellow in the black, gray and brown woods. No hint of any green.

Blossoms that resemble Sassafras blooms, but arrive a couple weeks earlier. Blossoms that will become berries on the female shrubs. The Spicebush is a shrub that is either male or female (the term for this is dioecious). The berries are only produced on the female shrubs. Berries that will again appear on the shrubs, as summer turns to fall. As the woods are shutting down.