Flowering Dogwood

The Flowering Dogwood trees (Cornus florida) here in my neck of the woods are just beginning to open as the Eastern Redbud blooms (Cercis canadensis) are on their way into decline. That’s the pattern every year. A slight overlapping of their big show. Like homemade vanilla ice cream with home grown strawberries on top.

In case you didn’t know, what are thought of as petals on a Flowering Dogwood bloom are not petals at all, but are modified leaves called bracts. The actual flowers of the Flowering Dogwood are those tiny yellow-green things in the very center.

No matter what the parts of a Dogwood flower are called they are a shout for glee in the mountains.

As the season continues and they’re no longer paired with their buddies, the Redbuds, they are still something that makes my heart light.

Something that calls to me to bring my camera for an outing.

As the light changes, another chance for an altered glimpse of those four white bracts with their yellow-green flowers.

Flowers on trees that intrigue me. Flowers that are just an added benefit.

And here a Blue Jay, an additional added benefit.

A Cardinal? What more could I want!

And once those flowers and bracts are gone, still pure delight as the seasons roll on. Be sure to watch those leaves. I kid you not, they begin ever so slowly to turn to red in late June. Slowly slowly slowly.

Autumn offers up berries for the critters of the forest. Berries that last what seems but a brief moment.

Hints of winter as the leaves fall. But look my beloved Flowering Dogwood trees are planning ahead. Those buds. That is spring on its way.

Spring indeed is planned for. Buds in the waiting. But the trees must go through winter. More delight!

That plan for spring the trees have made? They survive. They survive through snow, ice and cold. They survive through the wondrous winter and come into spring with blooms as their buddies, the Redbuds are blooming. Like homemade vanilla ice cream with home grown strawberries on top.

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
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.

Maple samaras
Maple samaras

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.

Young leaves of Honeysuckle
Young leaves of Honeysuckle

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 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 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
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
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!