Birds – Page 3 – Tendrils

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!

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!

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.

Smooth Sumac

Just a couple weeks ago, some of the bushes along my woodland edges were abuzz with pollinator activity. The flowers of Smooth Sumac, Rhus glabra, were the magnet.

Butterflies, including this Red-banded Hairstreak, Calycopis cecrops, were part of the crowd.

Honey Bees, gathering nectar, to help some bee keeper with his honey supply were also attracted. And so many other insects. Sweat bees, wasps. Too many to identify or list here! Believe me, Abuzz!

Smooth Sumac is a dioecious plant, meaning that male and female flowers appear on separate bushes.

There are many references to a lemonade being made from the berries. Call me chicken, but I’m not going to experiment, particularly because I am allergic to nuts and the thought that this shrub is in the cashew family (Anacardiaceae) is warning enough for me.

Autumn brings scarlet to the sawtooth edged leaves.

The bushes form dense colonies, by means of root suckers, and are easily spotted along the roadsides in many areas, in the fall, thanks to the brilliant red foliage.

The berries are an emergency food for many, many song birds through the winter.

This Yellow-shafted Flicker, or Northern Flicker, Colaptes auratus, is glad to have the emergency supply. I took this photograph during a heavy snow, back in February, 2010.

And as the seasons roll along, winter turns to spring. The compound leaves sprout, looking like ferns as they unfold. And the whole cycle repeats itself.

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.

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??

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!

Just An Inch

Wednesday night, into Thursday morning, the weather forecast was for some rain, and maybe in the mountains a little snow. Hooray for elevation! It was beginning to stick when I hit the sack and Thursday morning I was greeted with an inch of snow on the grass. Given all the talk of the rain/snow line and where I am located, I am happy to settle for an inch of snow.

This patch of snow (above), shows off my Aster seed heads. The Asters are a favorite spot for Buckeye Butterflies, Junonia coenia, when they choose to be in the area, in the fall. For some reason this gorgeous butterfly (seen below), with bright pumpkin orange accents and soft lavender eyespots, decided not to come visit my cabin this past autumn. I’ll be planting more natives and hoping that I can entice them this coming butterfly season.

Roaming around I found evidence of other happy creatures enjoying the snow, besides me. These bird tracks (below) look to me as if the little guy took a flying leap off the high dive, hunting for the spot where I left him some sunflower seeds.

Another sign of seasons past, I found snow atop what is left of another butterfly and hummingbird favorite, Bee Balm, Monarda didyma (below). Looking quite different than in the summer when it is a brilliant scarlett. It would hardly get any notice now in mid-winter, except for its rich texture.

And speaking of textures, I found my lane to be a wonderful pattern (below). Of lace? Of letters? I kept looking to see if there were actually any letters formed in the intricate designs, created by the pine needles that had fallen with the wind. I found no messages though.

Another relic of a bygone season, the empty seed pods of Butterfly Weed, Aclepias tuberosa (below). I hope that nearly all the seeds that were in these pods are now in the soil, just waiting for spring and summer to sprout up and bloom again for me, and for the butterflies, such as the Monarch that so greatly depend on the Milkweed family.

And more seed heads. This is what is left of Purple Coneflower, Echinachea purpurea (immediately below). The seeds attract many of the seed eating birds such as the Goldfinch, Carduelis tristis (seen in the second picture below), chowing down on the Black-eyed-Susan, Rudbeckia fulgida, seed heads that I left for them. I’ll wait till spring before I clean up my garden. Leaving food for the birds to enjoy during the winter attracts them to my yard, pleasing the birds and pleasing me.

Still a good bit of winter yet to come. I’m hoping for many more inches of snow!

American Mistletoe

The leaves in the forest, for the most part, all have fallen, yet every now and then there is a tree that has an odd, large clump of leaves. At first glance it appears to be a squirrel’s nest. Upon further investigation, small, leathery, emerald green leaves are revealed. This is the stuff of many myths. American Mistletoe, Phoradendron leucarpum.

Druids of northern Europe hung sprigs of Mistletoe over their doorways to protect the occupants against lightning, thunder and evil spirits. The Druids also looked upon Mistletoe as a symbol of peace, something we might want to consider. The custom of kissing under the Mistletoe is also an ancient one, which began more than 2000 years ago. Some believed that a kiss under the mistletoe meant the lovers would marry. Others believed that if a young woman was not kissed under the Mistletoe, she would not marry in the following year.

In our modern times, researchers have discovered compounds in Mistletoe that may have value in helping with smooth muscle problems, hypertension, and cancer.

The Mistletoe plant is a hemi-parasite, meaning it that though it does rely on its host tree for water and minerals, it produces its own food through photosynthesis. Mistletoe grows on many different hardwood trees. Birds such as cedar waxwing, bluebird, and evening grosbeak eat the pearly white berries, and distribute the seeds, which are covered with a gluey substance. The seeds end up sticking to tree branches. Once stuck to the branch, roots will penetrate the tree’s bark and the hi-jacking of water and nutrients begins.

There are three species of butterfly that depend entirely upon the Mistletoe plant for their survival. The Great Purple Hairstreak feeds on the American Mistletoe that I have presented in this blog. The caterpillars of two other butterflies: the Thicket Hairstreak, and the Johnson’s Hairstreak feed on Dwarf Mistletoe, Arceuthobium.

Good luck if you find some Mistletoe and place it over a doorway, hoping for a kiss!

A word of caution though, the plant should be kept out of reach of children and pets, since it is poisonous.