Bark – Tendrils

Black Walnuts

Looking up from beneath a Black Walnut (Juglans nigra) reveals a splendid, captivating pattern against the sky. Now that pattern has an added element, a change in color. Each leaflet of every compound leaf is changing little by little. Emerald to chartreuse green to chartreuse yellow and everything in between.

Black Walnuts dropping everywhere staining hands that remove the outer husks. My Mom tells us of a time when as a child, she and her sister, my Aunt Kay, helped my Grandpa remove husks from Black Walnuts. Though they thoroughly washed their hands the stain remained. The next day at school my Mom got a failing grade in penmanship because of her stained hands. I guess that teacher didn’t know of the staining qualities of Black Walnuts.

Several times a week I see these Black Walnut trees outside the yoga studio where I am a student. Absolutely nothing growing beneath them but grass. This is because of allelopathy. Allelopathy is one plant limiting the growth of another through harmful chemicals. In the Black Walnut tree the chemical is juglone, which is found in the roots, buds, leaves and nuts. Some plants will not do well with exposure to juglone, other plants it does not phase.

During the winter one is left with little in the way of clues to identify a tree. One thing I depend on is the bark. Sometimes that works. Black Walnut’s bark is gray-brown and is the color of chocolate if cut. It has somewhat deep channels with ridges that often create diamond shaped motifs across the bark.

Soon all the color changes will have taken place. Patterns against the sky will be gone. Leaves will be on the ground, as leaf litter, becoming homes for various stages of insects to overwinter. And that bark will tell me the name of the tree.

Tulip Poplar

The first tree I remember getting to know. Growing right next to our patio. As a little one I’d listen for its “heartbeat” and give it “injections” though now I’m sure it was totally healthy. Back then I had the title of “Tree Doctor” and would take care of it. A Tulip Poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera).

Here, my Mom on our patio and that tree, my “patient”, in this image slightly left and behind her.

One of many common names, Tulip Poplar, is confusing since the tree is not closely related to true poplar trees or to tulips.

Another name from long ago comes from Native Americans using the wood for dugout canoes. It was called Canoewood by early settlers west of the Appalachian Mountains.

The bark of the Tulip Poplar as a young tree has a smooth appearance.

As the tree ages, the bark becomes beautiful with deeply interlaced furrows. The tree can grow as much as three feet per year but as it ages that growth rate slows. Under near optimum conditions a Tulip Poplar can live to be three hundred years old and reach a height of 200 feet.

The “tulip” in the common name Tulip Poplar comes from the look of the flowers of the tree. Since the trees are so tall, often the blooms aren’t even visible.

After the bloom comes the fruit which is a cone-shaped arrangement of winged seeds called samaras.

And of course if one were to be in a parade the leaves would make a perfect banner to carry.

American Beech

Hawaiian shave ice. Snow collects in the cone shapes that American Beech (Fagus grandifolia) leaves make during the winter. It reminds me of a trip long ago. A trip to Hawaii to see a total solar eclipse. A trip to be introduced to Hawaiian shave ice, which brings me back to the subject of my post.

Beech trees are obvious during the winter up here on my mountain. They are a tree that is shade tolerant and will happily grow at an unhurried pace, just waiting for surrounding trees to decline and provide that lovely spot of sunshine. Their marcescent leaves make them stand out against the many gray trunks of larger trees. If not for the drooping sepia leaves that cling until spring their smooth gray bark would blend right in.

As the tree matures that smooth gray bark doesn’t change much. Whether a young tree or an older tree, it still looks like the skin of an elephant.

The leaves of American Beech brings to mind another member of its family Fagaceae, the beloved American Chestnut tree, which has a very similar, ocean wave edge to its leaf.

Another point that you might keep in mind if you are looking for an American Beech tree, is its leaf buds which resemble thorns. Nothing to worry about though. They look like thorns but they’re friendly.

Those leaf buds will expand come spring, the leaves unfolding into emeralds to decorate the summer vista. Then in autumn they will shout with warm color, yummy splendor.

Red-breasted Nuthatch

A little feathered creature that I see some winters. A bird that is said to be “irruptive,” meaning it depends on the seed supply where it normally spends its winters. In years when the seeds of pine, spruce, and fir trees are not plentiful these birds will venture into areas where they are not normally seen.

The Red-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta canadensis) shows up here in the Blue Ridge Mountains of central Virginia every two or three years. I’m always pleased to see them. And their songs and calls bring a smile to my face. They sound like a chuckle, or like the horn of a terribly tiny tin toy car.

While they’re here they will visit my feeders, eating the sunflower seeds, peanuts and suet that is put out. Sometimes I’ll see a Red-breasted Nuthatch going back and forth to the feeders, much more frequently than what I might expect. More than likely this means it is going to a special hiding place, stashing food in crevices in tree bark. Putting the food away for later.

So glad you guys are here and I hope I’ll see you next winter too.

Eyed Click Beetle

A goal of my hike this morning was to find a cover shot for my Facebook timeline. I was collecting images of tree bark, lichen, and beautiful mosses, all possible candidates. At a mature sassafras tree, as I worked around some poison ivy vines, I came upon a surprise: two BIG eyes looking back at me. Turns out, it was an Eyed Click Beetle, Alaus oculatus, one mighty funny looking creature.

This beetle is pretty large, almost 2 inches long. He has enormous fake eyespots on his back, which are a means of protection. The eyespots and the pattern on his back are composed of scales, much like on the wings of butterflies. These eyespots are to startle predators, perhaps making them think that they have run into a critter much larger than the Eyed Click Beetle actually is. The Eyed Click Beetle’s real eyes, one on either side of its small head, are located at the base of its saw-toothed antennae.

The name “click beetle” comes from another means of protection. When a click beetle finds himself on his back, or when being held by a predator, the beetle will create an unnerving snapping or clicking sound by bending his head backwards and suddenly snapping it straight. This action creates the sound, and sends the click beetle several inches into the air. That is something that sure would shock me, if I wasn’t expecting it. The catapulting can put the beetle right side up, but if it doesn’t, he’ll try again until he is successful.

The larvae of most click beetles are called wireworms. Some of them are serious pests that feed on the roots of crops including potatoes, strawberries, corn and wheat, and also the roots of lawns. These destructive wireworms find their food by following the carbon dioxide produced by their foodplants in the soil. They often use preexisting tunnels to travel through the soil to get to their food. However, the larvae of the Eyed Click Beetle are well behaved predators, that prefer to eat caterpillars and the larvae of wood boring beetles and flies. The Eyed Click Beetle lives in the larva form (as a wireworm) for two to five years and spends that time underground or in rotting logs.

I’m hoping I’ll find another Eyed Click Beetle as I hike up my mountain tomorrow. Perhaps I can get him to do a catapult for me.

*Bloggers note:

This blog was originally posted in a slightly different form, in the summer of 2013. At that time, I was participating in a group blog (BeautifulWildlifeGarden.com), with smart, dear, nature loving friends. Unfortunately that website has gone belly up. I am resurrecting this post so that those of you who have not seen it, can read more of my ramblings.

A Walk to Westover

A bright sunny and delightfully chilly morning for a walk to the farmer's market — **A bright sunny and delightfully chilly morning for a walk to the farmer’s market**

Sunday morning found me walking to the Westover Farmer’s Market, through Mother Nature’s slant on things in an urban environment. An environment a bit different than I have become accustomed to.

**Japanese Red Maple with sun shining through its leaves making them even more brilliant**

Some of the trees, shrubs, flowers, familiar – from my childhood. The Japanese Red Maple brought back memories of a tree that my parents planted at the house where I grew up. A small tree with dainty, elegant, deep rich red leaves. That yard, from years ago – I think I could still map out each of the many trees that were within its boundaries.

Springstar, Ipheion uniflorum, related to onions, is a new flower to me — **Springstar, *Ipheion uniflorum*, related to onions, is a new flower to me**

The beautiful Springstar blooms, I don’t recall ever seeing before. In one patch, they covered a wide swath of not yet mowed grass. Perfect timing for the blooms since the grass was still in sleepy mode and was only just beginning to think of growing.

There were, of course, plants that I see everyday in my mountain woods. Maples with smooth, silvery bark. Samaras, which I called helicopters, long before I knew the word samara.

Honeysuckle, which is all too abundant in both this urban setting and in the mountain setting that I am used to. Honeysuckle growing rapidly, making it difficult for native plants to get a foothold in the competitive world of nature.

**Lilacs in bloom with their fantastic fragrance filling the air**

Lilacs, which I used to associate with Mother’s Day, but look it is blooming now. Perhaps my childhood home is a bit further north than this setting, or is this a sign of climate change, or a sign of memories a bit askew?

**A happy Camelia, soaking up the sunshine**

A Camelia, which makes me think of how fussy they always seemed to be, trying to bloom when it was still much too cold. Now in my mountain home, I try for plants that are native to that mountain, things that have proven to be survivors. Things that don’t have to be fussed over. I want to be out taking photographs, not fussing in the garden!

**Redbud covering the streets with pink cheer**

Small native trees like Redbud, require no fuss. They are everywhere along the road up to my cabin. Planted there by Mother Nature. I’m glad to have her on my side.

**Squirrels everywhere, who are not shy**

Mother Nature has a large team of assistants. Squirrels who collect nuts in the fall, bury them and often leave them to grow. Squirrels in this urban setting are much more bold than the ones I’m used to now. Country squirrels don’t wait to see what you are up to, they scurry quickly at the least little bit of movement.

Between home and the farmer's market, parks abound — **Between home and the farmer’s market, parks abound**

On the way home, the obligatory stop at the park brings joy to everyone. Smiles all around. No farmer’s market on my mountain. No playground to delight, but oh, so many other things to lighten my heart!

Sap is Flowing

In the past three days I have been entertained by a visitor that I have not seen for more than two years. I don’t really know if this visitor is actually one that I saw during the bitterest of late January and early February of 2014, but she is quite fun to watch whether new to my woods or not. I can see her out my kitchen window. She is a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus various.

Back in the winter of 2014, a family of Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers showed up at the “watering hole” adjacent to the woods, and just outside my kitchen window. Female, male and juvenile. It was so cold that I was concerned for them. The only thing they seemed to be doing was enjoying the warm water that I had provided, and shivering. Particularly the female. In the picture above, by the way, is the male. Notice his stronger coloring, and the crimson patch at this throat, compared to the first picture, my current visitor, a female. They stayed around for a few days, during those extreme days of 2014, and then I never saw any of this species of woodpecker again, until just a few days ago.

The female that has appeared at the suet feeder has declared this suet to be hers and hers alone.

She takes her time feeding at the suet and takes a break, clinging to the little Dogwood trunk just a few feet away, with her sharply clawed toes. There have been Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, and Downy Woodpeckers who are regulars at the suet feeder. Now, if the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker sees someone that she considers a violator of her space she immediately throws her body at the intruder. This has gone on for three solid days, every moment that the suet feeder has been out there, in daylight. I don’t know where she goes as the sun goes down, but she must trust that nobody is going to eat her suet.

This behavior has me curious and I’ve gone to an amazing reference “book”, the internet. I find that Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers drill holes into trees that create sap flows, called sapwells. Sapwells provide the birds with sap which they lap up with their brush-tipped tongues, a path to the tree’s cambium which they eat, and the sap traps insects which they also eat.

The information about the sapwells is not new to me. Up in the woods there are trees that have lines of holes. These are sapwells created by the Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers. Even in the trees immediately around my cabin, I don’t have concern about the woodpeckers harming my trees. Seldom is serious harm done.

I do find a bit of information that might apply. These Sapsuckers tend to watch over and protect their sapwells. This has me wondering. Could she have tapped into the little Dogwood? I go out and sure enough, I find a sapwell! And within a short time, she is working on another Dogwood just a short distance away. From my perch at the kitchen window I can see telltale moisture around the area where she has been working.

Nature is always prodding me to dig to get more information. Dig to learn more. I love Mother Nature.

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!

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.

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!