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.

Silverrod

Excitement

I love to come home from one of my hikes, filled with the thrill of finding a flower that I’ve never seen before. What a cool feeling! And then to actually find it in one of my wildflower guides! Nothing better!

Brilliant, Chrome Yellow

Most of us know of the Goldenrod, with its brilliant, chrome yellow, tiny flowers which bloom along roadsides nearly everywhere. In mid-September I began seeing a flower, very similar to Goldenrod, but with snow white ray flowers, way up on my hike. I took my usual photographs to record what I had seen and brought the pictures to my studio to figure things out. I paged through my many wildflower guides and finally found what I had come upon.

A Species Of Goldenrod!

What I stumbled upon is a species of Goldenrod, with the common name, Silverrod, Solidago bicolor. It strikes me as amusing that there would be so many species of Goldenrod that are actually golden, and a species that is silvery with the common name of Silverrod. How very logical! The ray flowers of the Silverrod are snow white and the rich yellow coloring that sometimes shows, is the stamens and pollen which can be bright yellow.

A Native

The Silverrod is native to the eastern portion of North America. I’ve seen it occasionally but not in great numbers, mainly in the higher elevations.

Thinking About Maples And Syrup

Sugar Maple, Acer saccharum — Sugar Maple, *Acer saccharum*

Sweet Memories

Vermont and a telescope making conference, Stellafane, used to draw me to the land of black and white cows, Ben and Jerry’s, Sugar Maples, and maple syrup. I went up there for Stellafane for nearly 20 years straight. It was an education. An education in telescope making and astronomy in general, an education in country living, an education in Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and an education in maple syrup. Before those trips to Vermont I was quite happy to buy any old brand of pancake syrup, no care that it was mainly high fructose corn syrup. Now I know better. Only Vermont maple syrup gets set on my breakfast table or poured onto my ice cream!

Red Maple, Acer rubrum — Red Maple, *Acer rubrum*

Sticky Situation

Maple syrup is made from the sap of the Sugar Maple, and also Red Maple and Black Maple trees. The trees in northern latitudes or higher elevations such as here in Virginia, store starch in their trunks before the winter months turn the temperatures cold. In the spring, as the weather warms just a bit, the starch is converted to sugar. The sap is collected by boring a hole into the trunk of the tree and the sap will seep out, into a galvanized bucket or in more modern times into a system of plastic tubes that are connected to one another throughout the maple syrup production farm or “sugarbush.”

Another Red Maple, the yellow leaves are the Red Maple! — **Another Red Maple, the yellow leaves and the silvery bark are the Red Maple!**

Boil, Boil, Boil

The sap that is collected is boiled down from between 5 and 13 gallons until 1/4 gallon is left. This takes place in a “sugar house.” The trees are usually tapped starting at between 30 and 40 years of age and an average tree will produce about 10 gallons of sap per season at about 3 gallons a day. These maples are sometimes tapped until they reach over 100 years of age.

Nutrition

In comparing calories, maple syrup and sugar come out about equal, but maple syrup is a source of manganese (13 grams contains .44 milligrams) and also contains zinc (13 grams contain .55 milligrams). It beats out honey with 15 times more calcium and has 1/10 the amount of salt. Hmmm, I think I want pancakes for breakfast!

The Scarlet Berries Of Jack

True Red

At my back porch, I have a wonderful cluster of berries, a color that would be perfect for a Christmas display — a true red. These are the berries of a Jack-In-The-Pulpit, Arisaema triphyllum, a plant that is native to the moist woods of eastern North America. The plant gets its name from the odd flower that emerges in the spring.

The Pulpit

The “flower” consists of a flaplike spathe which shelters the little fellow, Jack, who is sitting in the pulpit. Jack actually is covered with the real flowers of the plant — both male and female flowers. The flowers are pollinated by flies that are attracted to the plant by heat, that the plant produces much like skunk cabbage does, and by scent. The pollination results in the brilliant red berries, which each contain one to five seeds. New plants from these seeds need three or more years before they are able to produce a flower.

Flower Color

The color of the Jack-In-The-Pulpit flower varies from a pale yellow-green, to a rich emerald green, to green with dark purple or brown stripes. I find flowers of these various colors here on my mountain. They are all the same species.

Careful

All parts of a Jack-In-The-Pulpit contain calcium oxalate crystals which can cause irritation of the mouth and digestive system, and can affect breathing. On one site on the internet, I see a warning that this plant is not to be confused with poison ivy, since both plants have leaves made up of three leaflets. I find that amusing, since I doubt that anyone would want to eat poison ivy either! Deer don’t seem to have any problem with the calcium oxalate crystals. I have found that Jack-In-The-Pulpit is one of their favorite foods.

Jack-O-Lantern Mushroom

Watching For The Jack-O-Lantern

I’ve been watching, not for the Great Pumpkin, but for a large cluster of Jack-O-Lantern Pumpkins, Omphalotus illudens. Day before yesterday, they popped up. I think if I had been sitting there watching and waiting for them, I would have seen them spring up from the dark, dry soil, since I have been watching for them daily. But there they are. A huge clump of them. Really a wonderful sight to see!

Wild Color

For several years now, growing at the base of a long dead oak tree, there has been a patch of mushrooms, a color best described as radioactive orange. They grow in a cluster, much larger than most mushrooms I’ve seen, and they emerge later in the season than many other mushrooms.

Wild In Other Ways

Not only do they have a wild color, but their gills glow in the dark. Mighty cool, don’t you think! A perfect name for them – Jack-O-Lantern – since they are such a Halloweenish color and they glow in the dark. And those of you who might have thoughts of eating this mushroom — do not! This mushroom is poisonous! I’ll enjoy watching them while they are still around this season and I will watch for them again next autumn!

More Beauty Ferns

A Huge Boulder

I’ve gotten to know my mountain here where I live, quite well since I’ve been hiking everyday that weather allows. One of many favorite spots is up where wild columbine grows in profusion, in scarlet dress, and cinnabar chanterelles pop up like tiny gum drops, all over the hill side. Just past that spot of red treats, both for the eye and the tummy, is a very large boulder that is surrounded by feathery fern fronds. Pale apple green, nodding with the wind. So many ferns. These are Northern Lady Fern, Athyrium filix-femina.

Fiddleheads

I’ve been watching this swath of ferns, growing in circular clusters, since they had baby fiddleheads way back in the spring. Funny to think that back then I could actually see the ground.

The Sea

The ground is now totally covered with ferns. Ferns with their fronds no longer pale apple green, but turning gold, like so many things do in the autumn. A sea of golden fronds.

Resting For The Winter

Those golden fronds are preparing to fade away for the winter. Letting their roots rest.

Evergreen

There is a fern in my woods that is evergreen though, that doesn’t fade away as autumn gives way to winter. That fern is the Christmas Fern, Polystichum acrostichoides. Perhaps this is a fern that is familiar to you. It is commonly found in garden centers, and I’m pleased to find this native in my woods, in every imaginable place. It is happy to settle nearly anywhere. I have always heard that it got its name because of the little toe on the leaflet (that leaflet is called a pinna) which looks much like a Christmas stocking.

More Fiddleheads

In the spring the Christmas Fern really turns on its charm for me. I love to watch the young fiddleheads emerge from the still cool soil, unfurling as if doing an exotic dance. To dance the whole year, until new young fiddleheads emerge and do a new dance.

Blackhaw On The Mountain

Buds and Snow White Flowers

From mid-April through mid-May the Blackhaws, Viburnum prunifolium, are in bud and bloom up here in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The Blackhaw is a shrub or small tree that gets its name from the inky black of the fruit, that develops during the summer, and ripens in the fall.

Fruit or Drupe

The floral display turns to fruit in June. This fruit, which, seems to me would be called a berry, is actually called a drupe. They start out apple green and oblong.

Blushing

As the summer days pass, the apple green gains a blush of dark pink and then crimson as the sun shines on the drupes.

Overnight Changes

Each day as I hike the mountain, as summer turns to autumn, I see changes. I’m surprised at how quickly one little drupe will turn from its crimson red to inky black. It just takes one night and presto! there is another one, blue-black and ripe.

Preserves And Wine

There are sites on the internet that mention Blackhaw preserves and wine. Sure would take a large amount of these drupes to make anything at all. Though tasty, they are mostly a single, large seed. Birds and wildlife enjoy eating the Blackhaw fruit. I think I will leave the drupes for them!

A Good Day For Monarchs

Oh What a Day!

I think it was just a perfect day! After finding a sincere pumpkin patch and locating a large, golden orange squash that would please even the Great Pumpkin, I returned to my cabin to find a Monarch butterfly, Danaus plexippus, enjoying the many varieties of asters that I have in the yard. What a delightful surprise! During this butterfly season, from spring until now, I had only seen a grand total of two Monarch butterflies.

Mid-Summer

My first Monarch sighting was in mid-July, way up the mountain. He was flitting back and forth from one fleabane flower to another. It was another month until I saw another one, just one. I managed to get some pictures of the first one (above) but the second sighting went without photographs.

Where Are They

In other years, the Monarchs have been much more plentiful. The photo, above, was taken in June 2010 and shows a Monarch feasting on a purple coneflower. My gardens this summer have had lots of purple coneflowers blooming. It didn’t attract any Monarchs though.

Sunflowers?

It made no difference that sunflowers were around, Monarchs just weren’t there.

Gaillardia?

It made no difference that gaillardia was blooming in my garden earlier this summer. But today I saw 6 or 7 of these beautiful, rich orange and black creatures! Hooray! These butterflies are beginning their long migration, all the way to Mexico. I wish them well, finding plenty of good weather and the foods they need along the way.

**Caterpillar Of The Monarch Butterfly**

More Milkweed

I’m going to be putting more native Milkweed, Asclepias, in my garden. Milkweed is the only plant that Monarch larvae eat, and I want to make them feel at home here on my mountain! AND I will be reading, and listening to reports from scientists who study butterflies to learn why there have been so few this butterfly season.

Sap Wells

Dots Dots Dots

Ever notice lines in the tree bark? Lines of little dots, little holes, made in thoughtfully placed rows?

A Message?

These rows of dots, look to me like someone is trying to tell me something. Or that someone has a brand new drill and has to try it out, decorate something with this new tool, new toy. Haven’t we all had some new something that we just couldn’t put down?

But Who?

Who in the world would be doing something like this? I see these holes often in the woods up here in the mountains, but I’ve also seen these holes in trees on the rolling hills of James Madison’s Montpelier, and so many other places as well.

The Yellow-bellied Sapsucker

These holes are called “sap wells” of the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus varius. A medium sized woodpecker with a brilliant patterned face of black, red and buff white; a black and white striped back; and red forehead. The male also has a red throat. The white of his striped back is an off white which looks a bit dingy to me.

The Sap Wells

The Yellow-bellied Sapsucker drills these sapwells and laps up the sap and insects that are attracted to it. They complete their diet by also eating fruits and berries. And they provide me more patterns to be attracted to.

Treasures In The Woods

A Special Corner

This is a special bend in the road on my hike up the mountain. Here I find fun mushrooms and cool little lichens that could be the center of an elf village. But the real treasure for me, is the sprouts of American Chestnuts that are just up the slope at this bend.

Almost Gone But Not Quite

The American Chestnuts have almost been wiped out by a fungus, commonly known as “the blight.” What is generally now found in some, lucky woods, are sprouts of determined trees, still trying to survive. That is what I have found on this bend in the road. Sprouts. I wouldn’t call, what is occasionally found these days, American Chestnut trees, but American Chestnut bushes.

Ocean Waves

The leaf of the American Chestnut has a distinctive, ocean wave edge, and the leaves that I find in the woods right now are a rich emerald green, as in the first close-up shot. By the end of October those leaves will turn a warm golden brown. I have to smile whenever I see these leaves – so determined to survive.

Waiting on Virginia Creeper

A Common Plant Here

Virginia Creeper is a very common plant here in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I enjoy seeing it, with its five leaflets radiating out in its palmate fashion.

Five Leaflets

Those five leaflets create one leaf. They are so precise with their sawtoothed edges, like a seamstress has taken her pinking shears to each one.

A Climber

The vine loves to climb trees, like a child in an apple orchard. This beautiful creeper, above, is clinging to a Persimmon tree. A tree with a gorgeous checker board pattern, that it earns as it ages.

A Garland

I’ve been watching this garland of Virginia Creeper, draped over a downed tree since spring. I’ve imagined that it would be so lovely in the fall, in scarlet. As you can see, I’m still waiting. Sometimes things don’t go as I had imagined. Will those leaves turn a brilliant shade of red, or just wimp out on me? Stay tuned. I’m still watching and hoping!