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.

Maidenhair Fern

I love ferns. Some remind me of ballerinas. Images of grace. Though dainty looking, many of them can be hardy plants. No need to pamper.

This one, I believe, is a fern that is native to Virginia. Northern Maidenhair Fern, Adiantum Pedatum. I moved this large clump of fern from my house in Arlington, Virginia, to my home in the mountains of central Virginia, in about 2008. Since then, it has slowly but surely become a larger and larger clump of grace and beauty.

In early spring, I check and wait for the unfurling of the beautiful little fronds to begin. They are not the first of the plants to wake from their winter slumber.

The fronds grow slowly, turning from a reddish color to green as they mature.

Finally becoming a major part of the garden. Grace and beauty.

I cannot say that Maidenhair Fern is a common plant in the woods of Snow Mountain, but I do find it from time to time. One little cluster of its fronds is used, as I hike the mountain road. Pictured here, is the clump that I use as my marker. This is my turn-around point. When I see it, I know it is time to head back down the road. Time to head home with my cameras full of pictures.

Seeds Planted by Ants

Large-flowered Trillium, *Trillium grandiflorum*, a native wildflower which benefits from seed dispersal by ants

What an amusing thought. Seeds that ants will harvest and then plant. It actually does happen. There are some seeds in our world of Nature that have fleshy parts, called elaiosomes. These elaiosomes are lipid-rich and are very attractive to ants. The ants harvest the seeds, take them to their underground homes and feed the elaiosomes to their larvae. The leftover part of the seed is then discarded, to the ants’ underground trashroom which contains nutrient rich soil, a perfect place for these wildflower seeds to be planted. This process, of seed dispersal by ants is called Myrmecochory. There are some 3,000 plant species on our planet which benefit from this interaction with ants. This is mutually beneficial to the ant and to the plant. It is obvious that this is a benefit to the ant. The ants are getting food for their larvae. For the plant, the seed dispersal lessens competition between the parent plant and its seedlings, provides protection for the seeds from predation, and provides excellent soil conditions for seedling growth.

This spring, I’ve run into several native wildflowers which are part of this ant/plant interaction.

Take a walk with me, and I’ll show you a few of them:

Twin Leaf has cool leaves Twin leaves which look like butterflies to me

Bloodroot, *Sanguinaria canadensis*, just emerging from the forest soil

Bloodroot, with a blush of pink, the flower not yet open

These are just a few of the plants that benefit from seed dispersal by ants. I just happened to stumble upon them during hikes on my mountain. There must be many more here. I’ll let you know when I find more.

Thistle Seed? No!

What are these seeds, that I’ve been calling thistle seed, since I was a child? These seeds that Goldfinches, Chickadees, Tufted Titmice and White-throated Sparrows seem to go bonkers over?

What a surprise I had, when I looked up thistle seed on the internet. Seems thistle seed is not thistle seed at all, but the seed of a yellow flower, Guizotia abyssinica, which is cultivated for its seeds in Africa, India and other areas of southeast Asia. A native of the highlands of Ethiopia, and the only major wild bird feed seed imported to North America from overseas.

This tiny black seed is sold here in the U.S. as Nyjer seed, a registered trademark of the Wild Bird Feeding Industry. It amazes me that the tiny songbirds that come to my feeders, take each tiny seed to a nearby branch and carefully remove the hull, to eat the little bit of nut meat, which is packed with 40 percent oil, which is the attractant.

In all seasons, Goldfinches arrive to dine on the Nyjer seeds.

Another bird that can’t resist the temptation of Nyjer seed, is the White-Throated Sparrow.

There are other birds that are attracted to Nyjer seed, but I’ll close with this last little guy. A Tufted Titmouse. These four bird species, Chickadees, Goldfinches, White-throated Sparrows, and Tufted Titmice are the ones that I know I’ll see every single day at my feeder of tiny black seeds, that are not thistle seed.

Pink Fog

Perhaps spring is here. Though the forecast for this coming Tuesday (the day this will be published) is for more snow.

My Redbuds, Cercis canadensis, here in the mountains of central Virginia are just now showing the slightest signs, of thoughts of blooms. This picture, above, was taken 5 days ago, while our newest, 8 inches of snow, were still festooning tree branches. Buds with just a hint of swelling.

In what will seem like, less time than the blink of an eye, my Redbuds will be sprouting their pinkish-purple blossoms. Sprouting blossoms that will be pollinated by long-tongued bees. Sprouting from buds along its zigzag branches, and sometimes even from the trunk of the tree itself.

The trunk, with its sprouting buds, is often twisted, looking as if it is participating in a yoga class.

To my eyes, which are even now, just awakening from a black and white, monotoned winter, the color will be dazzling! Along with tiny bits of apple green, there will be a flooding of the softest of magenta, in the just coming alive forest. It will appear to be a pink watercolor wash, over nearly everything.

At this point in the emergence of spring, on rare occasions, an event might happen if I am lucky. Pink Fog. The right temperatures, the right humidity and the sun doing its best to filter through all the Redbud blooms and PRESTO! Pink Fog! Beautiful!

For about one week, during this unfurling of spring, there will be an overlapping of blooms. Redbuds on the decline, and another native tree, the Flowering Dogwood, Cornus florida, just coming into bloom, contrasting their pink, and bright, snow white petals.

While the forests are having their pink and white dance, the Redbud flowers will be aging. Redbud leaves will be pushing their way out into the world. Leaves blushed with red that are perhaps the inspiration for the name Redbud. Leaves that have filled my photo collection, of Mother Nature’s hearts. Leaves that will provide food for caterpillars, of butterflies and moths of the forest, such as the striking Io Moth, Automeris io.

The seasons march on. The distinctive fruit of the Redbud will develop into flat, pea-like pods that contain 10 to 12 seeds.

As those seed pods develop, the Redbud leaves will be turning a brilliant yellow, preparing the trees for winter.

But back to the present and maybe spring. No Redbud blooms yet. Here’s to spring really happening. Here’s to at least one Pink Fog event!

More Pie Heritage

Okay, my title says, “More Pie Heritage.” Some time ago, I wrote a blog referring to my “apple pie heritage”. This blog is about Funny Cake.

So, am I talking about pie, or am I talking about cake? It is in a pie crust, but it is a cake, made with all the requirements for cake. And once you cut into the cake, you’ll find a surprise treasure of chocolate, a bit like icing, on the bottom.

I’d like to point out something that you’ll see in a couple of these pictures – the rolling pin I use. It is a must for me, for making my pie crusts. It was made by a dear friends of mine, at Phineas Rose. You can find this rolling pin, made in many different types of wood, at the Noon Whistle Pottery.

The recipe for Funny Cake has come to me, down through the generations. It is accompanied with a legend. My Grandmother Bertie died when my Mom was very young. Grandpa remarried a wonderful woman, who of course, I and all my cousins called Grandmom. This is “Grandmom Maude.” Grandmom Maude found Grandmom Bertie’s recipe for Funny Cake, and wanting to make dessert for her family, got to work stirring up the ingredients.

The recipe that she was working from did not have any notation that the ingredients must go into 2 unbaked pie shells. So she just put the ingredients into a pan and baked it up. The results, at least in the legend, were quite a disappointment. But Grandmom Maude, being the determined individual she was, made the corrections and continued making Funny Cake for many years.

Here is my recipe for Funny Cake. It is in my handwriting, in a little recipe notebook that my Mom’s sister, my Aunt Kay gave to me shortly before I got married. So what you see was written about 46 years ago. I wish it was in Grandmom Bertie’s handwriting, but no such luck. At least I have been able to pass the recipe on to my son and daughter-in-law, and one of these days, perhaps their daughter will be getting it as her birthday cake!

Don’t forget – divide the chocolate and batter into 2 unbaked pie shells!

Grumpy Birds

Those of you who are fortunate to have hummingbirds come to your garden, to get a sip from your feeder, or to enjoy the nectar provided by your flowers – you’ll know how intolerant they are. I’ve actually seen one hummingbird come up behind another, who is feeding, and hammer him on the head with his bill! Come on guys! Relax!

But that’s summer! Let’s get back to this season: mud, or the end of winter.

I’ve been watching the birds at my feeders since January. When I first put out the suet feeder, it took a while for the downy woodpeckers to show up. Perhaps a bit more cautious. Let the chickadees, white-throated sparrows, juncos, cardinals, titmice see if harm comes. They had already tested the feeder territory, eating the sunflower seeds and perhaps felt safe in the area.

I was delighted when the first nuthatch showed up. Just him. It took a while for another one to brave this new thing, a suet feeder in the woods! And then, a couple weeks ago, a pair of downy woodpeckers started coming for their dinner too.

It has been surprising to me to find that downy woodpeckers are not “sharing” birds. If another bird gets near the suet while they are feeding — look out! Grump City! Much like hummingbirds, charming little things to watch, until they feel they have had enough sharing!

One morning recently I saw a downy grab a chickadee and actually toss him aside.

Goodness. Much like hummingbirds. Grumps! — Much like some people! Fortunately not many of them, right??

Juniper Berries

Best buds at the old watering hole. I often see Cedar Waxwings and American Robins hanging out together. — **Best buds at the old watering hole. I often see Cedar Waxwings and American Robins hanging out together**

A pioneer tree or bush, depending on your thoughts, and its growing conditions, Eastern Red Cedar, Juniperus virginiana, is often one of the first to move into a field that has been cleared.

Here they are, hanging out again. This time, they're at the "Juniper Berry Cafeteria." — **Here they are, hanging out again. This time, they’re at the “Juniper Berry Cafeteria.”**

Eastern Red Cedars are actually Junipers. They play an important role in the lives of a long list of insects, birds and mammals. From the Juniper Hairstreak, to the Northern Bobwhite, to the White-tailed Deer, these trees provide both food and shelter.

Another customer at the "Juniper Berry Cafeteria," a Yellow-shafted Flicker. — **Another customer at the “Juniper Berry Cafeteria,” a Yellow-shafted Flicker.**

The most obvious benefit I see on my hikes, is the berry, or the seed cone, of the Eastern Red Cedar. A berry the color of a blueberry, with a similar white bloom, it is a favorite in my bird world. Some of these pictures were taken right after a snow storm in January. The Cedar trees were alive with birds looking for dinner.

The berries bring a plethora of birds to the Cedar trees here on the mountain, including the Robin. Thought by many to be a sign of spring, the Robin is often here during the winter, checking out what berries are still around. They move in response to food supply and I guess my mountain usually has a good provision for them.

Do they have tastes similar to ours? — **American Robins, ready to empty the “Cafeteria” of its berries.**

Not only do animals in the wild use the Juniper Berry, but the berry is also used by humans, for culinary purposes and to flavor gin and beer. I think I’ll leave the berries that I see for the birds!

Poison Ivy Good?

I am highly allergic to Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans). As a youngster, I never got a Poison Ivy rash, though I loved to romp in the unending woods directly behind my house. Vines to swing over the creek, forts my friends and I were out there constantly. In 1985 I had a wakeup call, with an extremely painful rash on my arm. My luck had run out. A trip to the doctor’s office got me temporary relief with steroids. I have a quilt to show for the time I was on those steroids and bouncing off the walls. I resorted to creating a quilt to help my addled brain. I quickly learned to avoid at all costs the beautiful plant.

Beautiful Plant?

Yes, I think Poison Ivy is quite a beautiful plant. Just look at its scarlet leaves in the first photograph. This is the scarlet of spring, with leaves that are often very shiny, whether scarlet in spring, or green in summer. As spring turns to summer, the plant puts out flowers. Large clusters of soft, pale green, with brilliant school bus yellow centers.

More Color In Autumn

As trees are putting on their autumnal show, Poison Ivy whether in its vine form, climbing way up into trees, or trailing along the ground, or taking on the form of a small bush, puts on its own show with bright color. Either sunshine yellow, crimson red, or pumpkin orange.

Sculpture

The vines, creeping up tall trees, only know sky as the limit. They climb as high as a tree will grow, with their thread-like hairs. The vines make me think of sculptures, wrapped up and around lovely textured bark. Those thread-like hairs of the Poison Ivy vine, can sometimes be found in the nests of cardinals and goldfinches. A helpful building material.

Berries

As the autumn leaves fall, they leave behind berries. Off white berries, speckled with a bit of bitter chocolate brown. These berries attract many birds. Bluebirds, crows, turkeys and all manner of woodpeckers.

The wonderful winter of 2009–10 which covered the ground here on my mountain with 72 inches of snow, created a Poison Ivy fruit cafeteria of berries for a remarkable number of woodpeckers. Many pileateds, and yellow-shafted flickers descended upon a large oak tree covered with Poison Ivy in front of my cabin. They returned day after day, until the many vines were stripped of their berries. That winter gave me new respect for what Poison Ivy can do for birds in my area.

Come Walk With Me

Ice storm overnight. Beauty beyond words. Walk carefully with me and I will show you some of that beauty. Watch your step. It is very slick.

If this blog had a sound track, this is what it would look like. I don’t know what the music actually sounds like, but as I was working on capturing this glazed Sumac, I felt I was photographing music.

A common evergreen here on my mountain, this is Virginia Pine, Pinus virginiana, dressed in shimmering, silvery ice. A tree native to the Blue Ridge Mountains, that grows to a height of 60 feet.

Another evergreen, my first photo in this blog, is a Blue Spruce, Picea pungens. A tree of color well worth noting. This tree is a particularly nice example of that blue-gray-green. My living room was graced with the beauty of this tree at Christmas, and it has been planted just outside my studio windows to please me throughout the year.

The Blue Spruce is not native to the Blue Ridge Mountains where I am located, but is a tree native to the Rocky Mountains of the U.S. I expect my lovely Blue Spruce to reach a height of 50 feet. Growing the wild, it might reach a height of 75 feet.

The ice doesn’t quite know how to collect itself here on these cotton topped, seed heads of Anemone virginiana. I’ve enjoyed getting to know this native perennial through the years. It’s a tall (2 to 3 feet) plant in summer, with attractive pale green to white flowers that are 1.5 inches across. The pistils are grouped in a thimble shape, which is how the plant gets its name. The common name, Thimble Weed, is perhaps why I am fascinated with it, since I am a quilter and use a thimble quite often.

Seed eating birds really go for these seeds, when they are not covered in a layer of ice. This is Black-eyed Susan or Eastern Coneflower, Rudbeckia fulgida. This is an excellent example of how handy a scientific name is. There are many flowers with the common name, Black-eyed Susan. Knowing the scientific name eliminates all confusion.

More of the Black-eyed Susan, Rudbeckia fulgida, seed heads protected from the desires of Goldfinches, by ice.

A stunning flower during the summer, the Purple Coneflower, Echinachea purpurpea, is another native perennial that I depend on to draw the attention of Goldfinches when the seeds are present. This seed head has served its purpose, with all the seeds gone.

The last stop on our walk in the icy wonderland, this is a White Oak, Quercus alba, which keeps its leaves until the spring. It is a grand tree that can grow to be 100 feet tall and live for 200 to 300 years.

And now, I’m hoping for more ice or snow to create an art gallery of winter beauty on my mountain!

Black Bear Hibernation

Sleeping through some, or most of the winter, as Black Bears (Ursus americanus) do, has been referred to as winter sleep, carnivorean lethargy, dormancy or torpor. Now leading physiologists simply call this long sleep, hibernation.

We humans sometimes get up in the middle of the night for a midnight snack. Black Bears are known to do a similar thing in the middle of winter. During a warm spell, one may stumble from his den in search of something to eat. I saw one here in my yard about this time, last year, looking like he needed something to nibble on.

I’m hoping the bears around here will sleep through this warm spell. I’m putting out black oil sunflower seeds for the birds, and I would prefer that the bears do not tamper with the feeders. Last year, the bear I saw didn’t damage the bird feeders. Maybe I’ll be as lucky this year. Stay tuned!