It has been so dry, but yesterday brought a glorious 1/4 inch of rain. Hallelujah! That rain brings a brief moment of relief to suffering vegetation.
The rain also brings beauty to the landscape. I love what rain does to colors, deepens them, makes them more rich. But of coursemore rich! Those colors are decorated with DIAMONDS. Here a Catbrier leaf, Smilax bona-nox, sparkling with rain drop diamonds, set against berries of Japanese Beautyberry, Callicarpa japonica.
Those berries will go begging for a while. There are more yummy things to tempt the birds right now, but as the days get shorter until we reach the dead of winter, birds will gather in the branches of these bushes and strip them bare.
Keep in mind if you are interested in Beautyberry, there is a highly recommended native, Callicarpa americana. Keep that scientific name in mind as you shop. Natives are the way to go.
A patch of the native plant, Smooth Sumac, Rhus glabra. A wonderful magnet for birds during the late winter and early spring.
Hard to decide which might be my favorite bird, but one that is right up there at the top, Northern Flicker,Colaptes auratus, is one of the birds that is attracted to the rich crimson berries.
The place I would expect to find a Northern Flicker, unlike most other woodpeckers, is on the ground. They hunt for ant larvae and beetle grubs, pecking into the soil the way other woodpeckers would be pecking into a tree trunk.
During this part of the year though, it is in the Smooth Sumac where I often see these handsome birds.
And if my stars are lined up just right, I might be lucky and capture a flash of marvelous yellow.
Or perhaps I can catch one signaling to others, letting them know that it is safe to land.
About a week ago I noticed a favorite patch of Woodland Sunflower, Helianthus divaricatus, being quickly gobbled up by gregarious, tiny caterpillars. I took pictures of the less than one half inch critters, and started pouring over my many books on butterflies, moths, and caterpillars.
I always love a mystery – caterpillars eating beloved plants – good or bad? I was relieved to find that the sunflowers were being eaten by the larval stage of a lovely, native butterfly. The culprit? The butterfly, Silvery Checkerspot, Chlosyne nycteis. This is good! My woods, up here on the Blue Ridge are a butterfly garden!
Silvery Checkerspots have a wingspan of between 1.5 and 2 inches. Their host plants, or plants that their caterpillars eat, are Black-eyed Susans and Sunflowers. Adults chow down on the nectar of Red Clover, Common Milkweed, and Dogbane.
Almost grown caterpillars of the Silvery Checkerspot overwinter at the base of their host plants. I’m so pleased that the woods up here provide a good environment for Silvery Checkerspots!
AND I have no problem sharing the gardens around my cabin with native butterflies, even if sometimes things end up looking a bit battered. It is all for good.
A beauty, though small, stirs my curiosity as he flutters by, giving me very little time to capture his image with my camera. A Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta. A butterfly that you just might see if you put overripe fruit out on your back porch, since this is a favorite food. Also at the top of the culinary treats they enjoy, are sap flows in trees such as these, pictured below, created by Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers.
The Red Admiral has a wing span of about 2 inches or just a smidgeon more, and appears to have bunches of nervous energy, much like a fidgety little kid.
Here in central Virginia, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, there is an abundance of the native plant, Wood Nettle. As larvae, Red Admirals dine on plants of the nettle family, including Wood Nettle,Laportea canadensis. The image below is Wood Nettle, a perennial herbaceous plant with upper leaves that are alternate. The flowers you see in this photo are male flowers.
Female flowers form on the same plant, and bloom at the top of the plant, as shown in the next image.
This is not a plant that you want to brush against, since it causes an instant, unpleasant, burning and itching feeling. Fortunately this irritating sensation lasts for just a short time, but it’s best just to avoid it.
Given the wealth of Wood Nettle along the trails here in the mountains, I do not wonder at all why these beautiful butterflies accompany me as I hike these mountain trails.
Butterflies mostly black, with brilliant red, bright blue, and striking white dots. I welcome their company.
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
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
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
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
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!
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!
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.
Brilliant color. A sure hit in my garden. Add the fact that the brilliant color is a native to moist woods, of eastern North America, and it becomes a must have for me. A must have for my garden.
This screaming yellow bloom is of Wood Poppy, or Celadine Poppy, Stylophorum diphyllum.
The Wood Poppy shows hints of bloom as a fuzzy bud. It begins blooming in my garden (which is at an elevation of 1,800 feet in the Blue Ridge Mountains, of Virginia) in mid April. The plants continue blooming for a couple months.
The leaf of Wood Poppy reminds me of a White Oak leaf. Deep sinuses. As mid summer arrives, the leaves begin to change color. Just a slight change of color. A hint of autumn to come.
The seeds have a way of putting plants in odd places. If you have a neat, tidy garden with regimenation, unlike mine, you’ll want to give the new plants guidance in placement. The plant is most happy in a moist location, in shade or part shade.
Even now, as August weather is hinting at fall, I am enjoying the Wood Poppies in my garden. I particularly enjoy them at this time of year, when there is rain. The rain drops on their leaves are beautiful.
Late May, and the clusters of white blossoms are everywhere. Brambles covered with cascades of white. Blackberry or Multiflora Rose. For me, a friend and a foe. The two plants are nearly twins to the untrained eye. I think I’ve got it figured out though. In the picture, above, Blackberry, Rubus fruticosus. Notice the center of the bloom — a soft, pale green.
The spill of blossoms of the Blackberry, are a bit more thin and scattered than the Multiflora Rose.
Native Blackberry provides much benefit to wildlife here on the mountain. Not only does my family enjoy picking the berries, but many insects, birds and mammals benefit from its presence.
The Multiflora Rose, Rosa multiflora, above, has the same size flower as the Blackberry. The center of the bloom though, is quite a different color — soft yellow with school bus yellow stamens.
Stepping back, looking at the Multiflora Rose as a bush, the blooms are more tightly packed in their clusters than the Blackberry.
The Multiflora Rose is native to eastern Asia, in China, Japan and Korea. It is considered an alien invasive in eastern North America. Multiflora Rose should not be confused with polyantha roses which are garden cultivars derived from hybrids of R. multiflora.
Here on my mountain, and further up, in Shenandoah National Park, Multiflora Rose presents a challenge. It takes over large swaths of ground preventing native plants from establishing themselves and providing benefit to insects, birds and mammals.
Friend or foe? Blackberry is my friend, Multiflora Rose is definitely not.
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.
