Seasons – Tendrils

Putty Root Orchid

An orchid that is native to eastern and central U.S., and Canada. Putty Root (Aplectrum hyemale).

The world of Mother Nature is always filled with surprises. This plant provides one of those surprises. Its growth timing seems backward. In autumn the plant sends up ONE basal leaf to collect dappled sunlight during the fall, winter and spring. That leaf may grow to be as much as eight inches long. The top side of the unusual leaf is green with thin white stripes, the under side is purplish. Spring approaches, the leaf will fade.

Come late spring that single leaf will be totally withered away and in its place will grow a solitary flowering stalk that can rise to be perhaps ten inches tall.

Without striking colors, the leaf is more noticeable than the flowers. Still, it’s a native orchid. Remarkable.

Intrepid Daffodil

In the garden today – the intrepid daffodil. Sending fingers up to test out conditions. Or perhaps their bulbs are sending up periscopes to see if it’s safe.

But for Daffodils things are just fine. They can take most anything. Even snow in late March.

Tough as nails they stand up to wintery conditions. Surprise ice and snow in mid April? No worry. The daffodils say, “Bring on spring! We’re READY!”

Winter, Soon

Winter. Crisp cold days when hot chocolate comes to mind. White landscapes if I am lucky. Otherwise black and white, pen and ink vistas. The best of all seasons when little White-throated Sparrows, Zonotrichia albicollis, keep me company. Cheer me with their song.

A New Season

Evening. Last day of summer 2020. I am SO looking forward to a new season. A change of direction. Some positive actions and thinking in all this insanity. Up instead of down. Bright instead of bleak. Health instead of sickness. Bring on AUTUMN.

Chicory

It has a color that pulls me in, bright medium blue, with a smidgeon of purple thrown in. It tugs at my heartstrings. Chicory, Cichorium intybus, is native to Europe but has become naturalized in many parts of North America, and is part of the roadside landscape here in central Virginia.

Chicory is a tough plant, sending its deep taproot into hard packed soil where other plants might have a difficult time. It blooms from June into October, producing just a few buds at a time on each plant. Each bud blooms for just one day.

The leaves are edible and are most tasty in early summer and in the autumn. The leaves in mid-summer tend to be bitter. The roots, roasted and ground, are used for an addition to coffee, or as a coffee substitute. Also, in beer brewing, the ground and roasted roots are occasionally added in the making of stouts and Belgian-style ales.

Its pollen and nectar entices insects, including bees, flies and butterflies. Chicory seeds, leaves and stems invite small mammals to come by for a meal or snack. And for those who love a bouquet of wildflowers, keep in mind that these flowers only last a day, and those stems are mighty rugged, requiring more than just a quick snap of the shoot.

Rather than taking some home, I will depend on my photographs and thoughts of that gorgeous purply-blue.

Red-spotted Newt

I have an adult Red-spotted Newt, Notophthalmus viridescens, in my small pond. Doing research, and learning about this newt has been a fun journey.

A type of salamander, they start out their life in a pond, marsh, stream or small lake, as an egg mass that resembles a big wad of cotton, attached to a piece of underwater vegetation.

The Red-spotted Newt, lays her eggs, one at a time, and the eggs, often numbering a few hundred, will hatch in a month or two, depending on the water temperature. When the eggs hatch they become larvae with feathery gills and a coloring much like the adult Red-spotted Newt.

**Juvenile stage of the Red-spotted Newt, land based, Red Eft**

The larvae live in their watery environment for 2 to 5 months eating aquatic insects and small snails.

At the end of summer, larvae will leave the water, shedding their gills, developing sac-like lungs, and begin another stage in their lives, as Red Efts, remarkably beautiful orange beings with brighter orange spots, surrounded with black circles.

I enjoy finding Red Efts, while I’m out in the woods. They are slow moving critters, appearing to be willing models for my photography.

They spend as many as 4 years as terrestrial creatures. During this stage the Red Efts will hibernate during the winter under a log or rock. During the summer in dry weather they may seek shelter under those same logs or rocks to keep their skin moist, coming out during rainy weather.

**An adult Red-spotted Newt in his underwater world**

For the next couple years, the Red Eft will become darker, and develop a longer, blade-like tail. He will find a body of water to enter, where he will live for the rest of his life as an aquatic adult. In this stage he will eat insects, frog and fish eggs, crustaceans, and worms.

Notice the long tail of the Red-spotted Newt in his underwater world — **Notice the long tail of the adult Red-spotted Newt in my pond**

Red-spotted Newts can live to be 12 to 15 years old. Quite a long life for a critter so small, generally growing as an adult to 5 inches long.

It took me a few years, first to find that I had a newt in my pond. And then to have the information click in my brain, to realize that this newt, and the Red Eft, and all the cottony masses of eggs were all the same species.

Fun finds in the forest!

Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers

Beautiful patterns, holes in tree bark, looking like a sort of Morse Code, is not the work of Martians leaving us a message, or wood boring insects. These holes are the work of a brightly colored, medium sized woodpecker, the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus varius. The photo, above, is a cluster of holes (called sapwells) that I discovered less than a week ago, in an apple tree in front of my cabin. The picture, below, is lines of sapwells in an Eastern Red Cedar. Ruby-throated Hummingbirds are attracted to sapwells, and will drink the sap that the Sapsucker has inadvertently provided for them. The Sapsucker watches for such things, and will chase the mooching hummingbird away.

The Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, during early spring, tests and selects trees that will be the source of food during the coming season. The Sapsucker will consume the sap, and insects, that occasionally get trapped in the sap, coming back many times a day. The same tree may be a source of food for a Sapsucker and his mate, for several years.

If you are concerned about a special tree that is decorated with these sapwells, you might try wrapping the trunk of the tree with hardware cloth, or burlap.

The picture, above, is a male (left) and female (right) Yellow-bellied Sapsucker during a snow storm, last year in my woods. A pair will stay together during the nesting season to raise their young together. Often they will reunite after migrating, sometimes even returning to the same nesting area.

The picture, above, is a male Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.

Sapsuckers are not normally found at backyard feeders, although occasionally they might be found at suet. In the very coldest days of the winter, here in the Blue Ridge Mountains, of central Virginia, I will see Sapsuckers at my water warmer.

A female Yellow-bellied Sapsucker in the picture above.

Both the female and the male share duties, of incubation of their eggs, and feeding of the young, once they are hatched. The eggs hatch in 12 to 13 days. The babies are fed insects, sap, and fruit. Nestlings leave the nest 25 to 29 days after emerging from their eggs, and are fed by their parents for 10 days after leaving the nest. There is one brood per year.

And in the photo, above, a confused Sapsucker? I don’t have an answer. This is not an unusual sight. I’ve captured Sapsuckers in photographs on this utility pole many times. Obviously this little lady would not find any sap flowing. Perhaps she is using the pole as a communication device, as she tap, tap, taps?

Sassafras

You know the question, If you were a tree, what tree would you be? My quick answer would be, a sassafras tree. I’ve had a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains, in Virginia, since 1992. During that time I’ve hiked my mountain up and down, getting to know all the things that grow here. I love them all, but the sassafras speaks to me. Speaks to me more than any other tree.

I’ll introduce you to the sassafras trees that I know here on the mountain. I’ll start with this season. Autumn. I am a color person. Color is extremely important to me. The sassafras celebrates autumn with splendid colors. Its rich green leaves, fading into lime green, butter yellow, school bus yellow, as the chlorophyll in its leaves fades away.

But that is just the beginning. The sassafras becomes a multicolored fiesta in autumn. Rust red, burgundy and many a shade of orange appear.

These leaves, like the twigs, bark and roots, all have the fragrance of root beer. Perfect timing: as I write this, my husband brings me an icy mug of root beer. Mmm! It takes me back to my childhood.

As I reminisce, I recall that sassafras oil has been determined to contain a carcinogenic substance, safrole. Root beer no longer contains safrole. You would be wise not to dig the roots of sassafras, to use as a root beer flavoring, or to make tea, as I did as a child. That lovely aroma, sure brings the memories back. But let’s be safe.

As the leaves fall, the intricate texture of the bark becomes my focus. And the color of the bark, just below the surface. A rich, cinnamon red-brown. Looking, just the right color, to match that childhood memories aroma. The bark, a lovely lacework of ridges, undulating this way and that.

And, like the bark, the trunks of the sassafras trees appear to dance through the forest. Like the bark pattern, bending this way and that. Winter is a favorite season for me. It reveals the trees’ structure. The trees’ form. Sassafras trees bend and sway, even in standing still.

Time flies and the sassafras trees’ buds are waiting for the first of the slightly warm days. At the beginning of April, they begin swelling and by the third week of April, here on Snow Mountain, the woods are filled with flowers.

Not much for show, but still beautiful to me. There is a soft, butter yellow haze in the woods. The flowers arrive before the leaves.

Now I am going to tell you a secret. As fond of sassafras, as I am, I had never seen sassafras drupes (one seeded fruit), until this summer. On finding some, I was amazed at their unusual look. Patriotic red and blue.

And yet, I understood why I had not seen them before. The leaves provide a perfect hiding place for the drupes. So much so, that it was a challenge to get a photograph to show you.

The drupes are popular with many birds and once they are gone, their receptacles are still attractive. Crimson against the green leaves.

Lovely sassafras has a weakness, if you are going to plant a few in your garden. If you are in an area prone to problems with Japanese Beetles, beware. Japanese Beetles really enjoy Sassafras leaves. Fortunately for me, my woods are my gardens. They are filled with Sassafras. A Japanese Beetle chomped away on this leaf, but there are still many, many more untouched.

But with that attractiveness to Japanese Beetles, it certainly has its strengths as well. Another critter that eats the sassafras leaf, is the caterpillar of Eastern Tiger Swallowtail. I consider that a big plus. Along with its beauty, it tolerates clay soils, and drought. Deer, and gypsy moth caterpillars will go for other things to eat, before they chomp on sassafras.

Once I became acquainted with the trees on the mountain, I realized that sassafras trees can grow to be quite large. Up to about 60 feet in height. They are most often seen as the understory shrub though.

Allelopathic is a term used to describe a characteristic of sassafras. That means the tree releases a chemical that hinders the health of some plants living around the sassafras. American elm is one of the trees that is affected by this chemical. This is a defense for the sassafras, eliminating some of its competition.

I am very fortunate being here in the woods. Sassafras trees come up as volunteers all over. I love it!

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.

A Bush To Love

I’m in love with a bush that’s growing in my yard. Actually I have 14 of these bushes growing along the edge of my front porch, bordering the vegetable garden, and creating a shrub island by the wood shop. I can’t recommend them highly enough. Here in the mountains of central Virginia, they are a perfect shrub, lovely and trouble free.

After being planted, it was just a matter of sitting back and waiting. I do admit to being concerned when they were baby shrubs, and new to this mountain. I diligently watered them. I stopped doing that years ago, and they are not complaining in the least.

Native to Eastern North America, I can easily find blueberry bushes as I hike up the mountain. It always gives me a thrill to find this crop plant growing wild.

In the spring they show off with their creamy white, to blush pink blooms, enticing bees to come pollinate them. The blueberry bush, with its yummy berry, provides benefits to an incredible number of insects and animals, including at least 30 species of birds, along with many mammals. Browsers love to chomp on the leaves, but are not a problem. I’m thankful though, to have very few deer.

As the berries think of ripening, they create inspiration for me. Inspiration to take photographs of the still green fruit. I find them beautiful whether green or blue.

As they mature into frosty looking, deep blue orbs, there is more inspiration. Inspiration to bake. Bake pies, bake muffins, make pancakes. Although there are plenty of berries, I have to pace myself and not use them all up. Many, many quarts of berries are frozen, for treats throughout the year.

As summer turns to autumn, so do the leaves of the blueberry bush, creating another treat. The brilliance of the season is reflected in the foliage of the blueberry bush. Another season to inspire — more photographs!

And then comes, what is perhaps my favorite season, winter. The twigs of the blueberry bush in winter provide more spark for me, particularly when the ice storms hit — bright red branches, covered in ice. As others stress over the weather, I think, “Soon it will be spring again. Don’t stress over that ice. Just go get photos!”