Shrubs – Tendrils

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**

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.

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.

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 — **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!

Pi or Blueberries

This pan will do the job of representing two words: pi and pie. Pi is the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter, and this pan is a circle. A Pie is usually a sweet, baked good which often is cooked up in a pan such as this. Many people look to me as a pie baker and I mention Pi Day because of that connection.

Whether you are a bird . . .

Whether you are a baby . . .

Whether you are a baker . . .

Whether you are a botanical connoisseur . . . chances are you have an interest in blueberries. As a baker, I love them for their ease of use. I just pull them out of the freezer and pop them into the batter for muffins, or pancakes, or pour them into a pastry lined pie pan and I am nearly done.

As a naturalist and photographer, I love the blueberry bushes in my gardens for their beauty in every season. Even in the middle of winter they are simply gorgeous.

A native shrub, which is easy to grow, with a bonus of yummy berries, I cannot recommend them highly enough.

Just be sure, as harvest time arrives, that you have enough room in your freezer, and enough time to stay one step ahead of the bear.

Happy Pi Day.

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!

Witch Hazel

The autumn bloomer. American witch hazel, Hamamelis virginiana. Blooming to catch the last of the lovely purple asters. The asters have been blooming for many weeks now, adding an unexpected color to the color scheme of fall. Their bloom time overlaps, just a bit but I’m getting distracted. I want to tell you about American witch hazel, with blooms of lovely yellow. Four petals for each flower. Petals that look like lemon zest.

As fall reaches its mid-point, the leaves of American witch hazel are a brilliant yellow. Its flowers too, are blooming. At first, one must know. One must look for the blooms. They are not showy and the lemony yellow leaves compete for attention, and pretty much win. As the days pass, the leaves give in to the change of season, and drop to the forest floor, revealing the last blooms in the mountains, till spring returns.

I say mountains. That is where I see American witch hazel. The higher the elevation, here in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the more likely I am to see them. I live at an elevation of 1,800 feet, and in my woods it is unusual to see an American witch hazel, which is a shrub or small tree with many trunks. Further up my mountain, to its summit of 3,586 feet, American witch hazel is a very common sight. I have planted American witch hazel, here in my yard and, so far, have been successful in having them grow.

The shrub, which is native to northeast and southeast North America, grows to 20 to 30 feet in height, and has a width of 15 to 20 feet. In the wild, American witch hazel enjoys moist, shaded sites. The shrub is pollinated by a moth. The moth, and its chilly night pollinating activities has an interesting story, that you can read, here.

The seed capsules that form, after the bloom is pollinated (seen in the picture above, as a fuzzy golden thingy), overwinter. In their second autumn, the seed capsules dry, popping open to send the one or two seeds inside, a distance of up to 30 feet. Fun seed distribution! Ruffed grouse and squirrels eat these seed capsules, and white-tailed deer like to munch on the leaves and branches.

There are many stories of how witch hazel got its name. My favorite story has to do with a gall that is often seen on the leaves. It is the gall of the witch hazel cone gall aphid. It supposedly, made the namer of the shrub think of a witch’s hat, and therefore the name witch hazel. Ive captured this gall in green, in the photograph. You might also see them in a red shade. I have not noticed that these galls, on the leaves, are a serious problem.

This picture, a new American witch hazel leaf in spring. I am looking forward, into the future, hoping that next year will be that magic year. The year that the witch hazel shrubs that I have planted in my gardens, will be mature enough, and will bloom for me.

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.

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!

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.

Diamonds Of Ice!

Redosier Dogwood, Cornus sericea, berry stems — **Redosier Dogwood**, *Cornus sericea*, berry stems, on main stem of deep red.

As I snuggled in my bed last night, I was prepared for nothing special in the weather this morning. Yesterday‘s forecast had been for snow, sleet and freezing rain.

Flowering Dogwood, Cornus florida — **Flowering Dogwood**, *Cornus florida*, in bud, patiently waiting for spring, in soft green and muted red.

Mother Nature skipped the snow part, and went straight to sleet, and it kept going, all day long. The temperature remained steady at 27 degrees during the whole day, but as bedtime drew nigh, it began to rise quickly and by the time I went to bed it was 32 degrees with no signs of leveling off. So my thoughts of a beautiful morning were of a beautiful rainy, wet morning.

Blue Spruce, Picea pungens, and this year's Christmas tree — **Blue Spruce**, *Picea pungens*, and this year’s Christmas tree, in lovely pale blue-green.

The little girl within me was more than delighted this morning as daylight revealed a thick coating of ice over everything!

Winterberry, and one of my goals accomplished with a wintery photo of this beautiful shrub! — **Winterberry**, and one of my goals accomplished, with a wintery photo of this beautiful shrub. Complete with scarlet berries and white diamond ice!

I very quickly put breakfast on the table for the family, gobbled mine down, and went out into the wonderland of diamonds and ice.

The very sharp end to a Yucca leaf, complete with ice — The very sharp end to a bluish green **Yucca** leaf, edged in golden yellow, complete with ice.

Thank goodness I have trekking poles! The ice was thick and not forgiving for a false move, and to further complicate things, I’m on the side of a mountain! Every surface is on a slant. With the poles though, I didn’t take a spill.

Virginia Pine, Pinus virginiana — **Virginia Pine**, *Pinus virginiana, like green flowers.*

When I left the cabin, the temperature was 32 degrees and it was very cloudy.

Grape Vine Tendrils — **Grape** Vine Tendrils. showing a bronzy glow.

There was no dripping. Everything in a frozen, fairlyland.

Blueberry Bushes, with their buds all set for spring — **Blueberry Bushes,** with a blush of Christmas red, with their buds all set for spring.

As I returned to my cabin, the sun was just beginning to break through the clouds, and like magic, it seemed to begin raining. Of course it wasn’t rain, but melting ice, dripping down on me.

Seed Head of Queen Anne's Lace — A tan Seed Head of **Queen Anne’s Lace.**

Now this afternoon most of the diamonds and ice are gone from the trees and bushes.

Smooth Sumac, Rhus glabra — Crimson, **Smooth Sumac** Berries, *Rhus glabra.*

But no worries! There is snow in tomorrow’s forecast!

Like A Pinecone Dipped In Molten Glass — Like A Maroon **Pinecone** Dipped In Molten Glass.

How cool is that?

Seed Head Of Echinachea purpurea — A Toast-brown Seed Head Of **Echinachea purpurea.**

Stay tuned! I may be in my element tomorrow again, wandering with my hiking companions, my two cameras, taking snow pictures!

Seed Head Of Tall Anemone, Anemone virginiana — Soft Butter-yellow and Toast-Brown Seed Head Of **Tall Anemone**, *Anemone virginiana.*

A Whole New World

Life At A Different Level

I was greeted by a whole new world yesterday, as I hiked up the mountain. I’d been down in Florida and not able to check on things up here for more than a week. When I left, autumn was on the downswing. Now, I am greeted by what looks like a winter landscape. Just browns, blacks, whites, grays and a stray bit of evergreen. This is good! I love to have the seasons change around me, welcoming each one as it approaches.

Bark! Bark!

As winter creeps into our area, it’s time for me to change my focus. From butterflies and insects, to bark and buds.

Hey Bud!

These are the buds of Spicebush, Lindera benzoin. They are out there in the forest, right now, just waiting for spring, to burst into a soft wash of lemon yellow.

Not Chinese Chestnut

The bark of Spicebush puts me in mind of the young branches of Chinese Chestnut, Castanea mollissima, a tree that is often confused with American Chestnut, Castenea dentata. The Chinese Chestnut has lenticels (breathing pores on the bark of trees) that are pronounced and feel like course salt on a pretzel. I think this bark looks like a salted pretzel, like the Chinese Chestnut. This is the bark of Spicebush.

Another Shade Of Gray

Another small tree bark that I am working to get to know is Witch Hazel, Hamamelis virginiana. Both Witch Hazel and Spicebush are small trees or large shrubs that grow in look-alike groupings. I can count on the bark of each, to let me know which I am looking at, during the winter when there are few other clues. Witch Hazel (above) also has visible lenticels, but they are elongated, fewer, and the bark in general has a rosey-gray appearance, while the coloring of the Spicebush bark is more a green-gray.

Subtle Coloring

I look forward to a season of gentle coloring. Almost monotone, like a black and white pen sketch, beautiful in its simplicity.

A Day Of Chestnut Trees And Berries

Yes! American Chestnut Trees!

I was pleased this morning to be able to tell a dear friend that the trees he thought might be American Chestnuts, Castanea dentata, were indeed, the not often found species. Yay! This is good. I had mixed feelings though, because at the same time, I had to tell him that his trees would definitely succumb to chestnut blight. That is of course unless some crazed, chain saw wielding person comes along and cuts the trees down.

Ocean Waves

The first thing I looked for on my friend’s trees – the classic ocean wave of the leaf edge. The leaf in the photo above is one that I pressed to save, since it has the perfect example of the American Chestnut leaf edge. This morning the leaf edges were a bit hard to see since it is so late in the season, and the leaves were curled and dry, but I was encouraged by the edges I could see. Also the shape of the leaf is like a canoe – quite pointed at both ends. And an American Chestnut leaf is generally 5 to 9 inches long.

Lenticels

Another thing I took into consideration was the bark of the trees. American Chestnuts have easily visible lenticels, or breathing pores, that look like fine salt on a pretzel. These trees did have these lenticels. Chinese Chestnuts also have these lenticels, but they look like large salt grains. My friends trees had an appearance of fine salt grains.

Tootsie Rolls Anyone?

Another sign of an American Chestnut is the color of the twigs, a rich Tootsie Roll brown, along with those lenticels. Again the trees passed the test. Last but not least, I took into consideration the environment that the trees are living in – forested land with no clearing. American Chestnuts are shade tolerant trees, surviving in shade, just waiting for an opportunity to capture sunshine and shoot up to their tallest potential. Chinese Chestnuts are not shade tolerant. Good news, Buddy! I feel you’ve got several American Chestnut trees. Keep your fingers crossed, and if you are very lucky, they may grow to be sizable trees!

One Ridge North

As I was checking out Buddy’s trees, I was taking in the beauty of his property, one mountain ridge north of mine. He’s a landscape architect and his property reflects what a person in this profession would have, if he was guided by Mother Nature. He lives in the woods, surrounded by native plants. I was struck by one native in particular. One that I blogged about yesterday: Beautyberry, Callicarpa americana. The photo above is his native species. See how the berries cluster on the stem, like poufs on a French poodle?

Mine – Not A Native

While Buddy has the native, I get the booby prize, with my Purple Beautyberry, Callicarpa dichotoma, (above) which is not a native to North American, but of the Far East!