Seeds – Page 3 – Tendrils

Blackberry Lily

I like rich, strong, take no prisoners color. In my garden there is one flower that really fills the bill. It is Blackberry Lily, or Leopard Lily, Iris domestica.

Here, a candelabra of spent flowers, having a twisted appearance, and buds ready to burst, on the naked stem of the Blackberry Lily.

Once open, the petals turn into a spinning ballerina out on the dance floor.

Though I try to favor native plants in my garden, this one is originally from central Asia, India, China and Japan. But it does seem, that this gorgeous, very easy to grow flower, has been on this continent forever. At least for a long time. Thomas Jefferson planted Blackberry Lily in his Monticello gardens. So I am in good company.

Once the flowering is completed, the seed pods develop into blackberry look-alikes. Sprinkle the seeds where you would like more to sprout, or let Mother Nature have her hand at placement. I like to have a say at where they end up, but I like the surprises that always happen.

Seeds Planted by Ants

Large-flowered Trillium, *Trillium grandiflorum*, a native wildflower which benefits from seed dispersal by ants

What an amusing thought. Seeds that ants will harvest and then plant. It actually does happen. There are some seeds in our world of Nature that have fleshy parts, called elaiosomes. These elaiosomes are lipid-rich and are very attractive to ants. The ants harvest the seeds, take them to their underground homes and feed the elaiosomes to their larvae. The leftover part of the seed is then discarded, to the ants’ underground trashroom which contains nutrient rich soil, a perfect place for these wildflower seeds to be planted. This process, of seed dispersal by ants is called Myrmecochory. There are some 3,000 plant species on our planet which benefit from this interaction with ants. This is mutually beneficial to the ant and to the plant. It is obvious that this is a benefit to the ant. The ants are getting food for their larvae. For the plant, the seed dispersal lessens competition between the parent plant and its seedlings, provides protection for the seeds from predation, and provides excellent soil conditions for seedling growth.

This spring, I’ve run into several native wildflowers which are part of this ant/plant interaction.

Take a walk with me, and I’ll show you a few of them:

Twin Leaf has cool leaves Twin leaves which look like butterflies to me

Bloodroot, *Sanguinaria canadensis*, just emerging from the forest soil

Bloodroot, with a blush of pink, the flower not yet open

These are just a few of the plants that benefit from seed dispersal by ants. I just happened to stumble upon them during hikes on my mountain. There must be many more here. I’ll let you know when I find more.

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.

Pink Fog

Perhaps spring is here. Though the forecast for this coming Tuesday (the day this will be published) is for more snow.

My Redbuds, Cercis canadensis, here in the mountains of central Virginia are just now showing the slightest signs, of thoughts of blooms. This picture, above, was taken 5 days ago, while our newest, 8 inches of snow, were still festooning tree branches. Buds with just a hint of swelling.

In what will seem like, less time than the blink of an eye, my Redbuds will be sprouting their pinkish-purple blossoms. Sprouting blossoms that will be pollinated by long-tongued bees. Sprouting from buds along its zigzag branches, and sometimes even from the trunk of the tree itself.

The trunk, with its sprouting buds, is often twisted, looking as if it is participating in a yoga class.

To my eyes, which are even now, just awakening from a black and white, monotoned winter, the color will be dazzling! Along with tiny bits of apple green, there will be a flooding of the softest of magenta, in the just coming alive forest. It will appear to be a pink watercolor wash, over nearly everything.

At this point in the emergence of spring, on rare occasions, an event might happen if I am lucky. Pink Fog. The right temperatures, the right humidity and the sun doing its best to filter through all the Redbud blooms and PRESTO! Pink Fog! Beautiful!

For about one week, during this unfurling of spring, there will be an overlapping of blooms. Redbuds on the decline, and another native tree, the Flowering Dogwood, Cornus florida, just coming into bloom, contrasting their pink, and bright, snow white petals.

While the forests are having their pink and white dance, the Redbud flowers will be aging. Redbud leaves will be pushing their way out into the world. Leaves blushed with red that are perhaps the inspiration for the name Redbud. Leaves that have filled my photo collection, of Mother Nature’s hearts. Leaves that will provide food for caterpillars, of butterflies and moths of the forest, such as the striking Io Moth, Automeris io.

The seasons march on. The distinctive fruit of the Redbud will develop into flat, pea-like pods that contain 10 to 12 seeds.

As those seed pods develop, the Redbud leaves will be turning a brilliant yellow, preparing the trees for winter.

But back to the present and maybe spring. No Redbud blooms yet. Here’s to spring really happening. Here’s to at least one Pink Fog event!

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??

Juniper Berries

Best buds at the old watering hole. I often see Cedar Waxwings and American Robins hanging out together. — **Best buds at the old watering hole. I often see Cedar Waxwings and American Robins hanging out together**

A pioneer tree or bush, depending on your thoughts, and its growing conditions, Eastern Red Cedar, Juniperus virginiana, is often one of the first to move into a field that has been cleared.

Here they are, hanging out again. This time, they're at the "Juniper Berry Cafeteria." — **Here they are, hanging out again. This time, they’re at the “Juniper Berry Cafeteria.”**

Eastern Red Cedars are actually Junipers. They play an important role in the lives of a long list of insects, birds and mammals. From the Juniper Hairstreak, to the Northern Bobwhite, to the White-tailed Deer, these trees provide both food and shelter.

Another customer at the "Juniper Berry Cafeteria," a Yellow-shafted Flicker. — **Another customer at the “Juniper Berry Cafeteria,” a Yellow-shafted Flicker.**

The most obvious benefit I see on my hikes, is the berry, or the seed cone, of the Eastern Red Cedar. A berry the color of a blueberry, with a similar white bloom, it is a favorite in my bird world. Some of these pictures were taken right after a snow storm in January. The Cedar trees were alive with birds looking for dinner.

The berries bring a plethora of birds to the Cedar trees here on the mountain, including the Robin. Thought by many to be a sign of spring, the Robin is often here during the winter, checking out what berries are still around. They move in response to food supply and I guess my mountain usually has a good provision for them.

Do they have tastes similar to ours? — **American Robins, ready to empty the “Cafeteria” of its berries.**

Not only do animals in the wild use the Juniper Berry, but the berry is also used by humans, for culinary purposes and to flavor gin and beer. I think I’ll leave the berries that I see for the birds!

Come Walk With Me

Ice storm overnight. Beauty beyond words. Walk carefully with me and I will show you some of that beauty. Watch your step. It is very slick.

If this blog had a sound track, this is what it would look like. I don’t know what the music actually sounds like, but as I was working on capturing this glazed Sumac, I felt I was photographing music.

A common evergreen here on my mountain, this is Virginia Pine, Pinus virginiana, dressed in shimmering, silvery ice. A tree native to the Blue Ridge Mountains, that grows to a height of 60 feet.

Another evergreen, my first photo in this blog, is a Blue Spruce, Picea pungens. A tree of color well worth noting. This tree is a particularly nice example of that blue-gray-green. My living room was graced with the beauty of this tree at Christmas, and it has been planted just outside my studio windows to please me throughout the year.

The Blue Spruce is not native to the Blue Ridge Mountains where I am located, but is a tree native to the Rocky Mountains of the U.S. I expect my lovely Blue Spruce to reach a height of 50 feet. Growing the wild, it might reach a height of 75 feet.

The ice doesn’t quite know how to collect itself here on these cotton topped, seed heads of Anemone virginiana. I’ve enjoyed getting to know this native perennial through the years. It’s a tall (2 to 3 feet) plant in summer, with attractive pale green to white flowers that are 1.5 inches across. The pistils are grouped in a thimble shape, which is how the plant gets its name. The common name, Thimble Weed, is perhaps why I am fascinated with it, since I am a quilter and use a thimble quite often.

Seed eating birds really go for these seeds, when they are not covered in a layer of ice. This is Black-eyed Susan or Eastern Coneflower, Rudbeckia fulgida. This is an excellent example of how handy a scientific name is. There are many flowers with the common name, Black-eyed Susan. Knowing the scientific name eliminates all confusion.

More of the Black-eyed Susan, Rudbeckia fulgida, seed heads protected from the desires of Goldfinches, by ice.

A stunning flower during the summer, the Purple Coneflower, Echinachea purpurpea, is another native perennial that I depend on to draw the attention of Goldfinches when the seeds are present. This seed head has served its purpose, with all the seeds gone.

The last stop on our walk in the icy wonderland, this is a White Oak, Quercus alba, which keeps its leaves until the spring. It is a grand tree that can grow to be 100 feet tall and live for 200 to 300 years.

And now, I’m hoping for more ice or snow to create an art gallery of winter beauty on my mountain!