This morning was what seems to be quite the trend. Sleet and freezing rain. That rain turned the landscape into a sparkly fairyland. For me, this winter has become The Winter of Ice and Sleet. And this is no complaint. I’m absolutely loving all the frozen precipitation. All the diamond covered trees. Snow takes me back to my childhood and the shimmering of ice yields the same reaction.
Scarlet Tanager (Piranga olivacea). Either a female or a young male.
But with the blink of an eye it is going to be summer again. A new set of birds to enthrall me. Summer birds to capture in pixels. Things growing, plants calling to me. Colors popping. Very soon.
Jeffersonia (Jeffersonia diphylla). In 1792 the botanist Benjamin Smith Barton named this plant after Thomas Jefferson. In 1807 Jefferson had Jeffersonia growing in one of the oval flower beds of Monticello. I’m proud to have something in common with my neighbor Thomas.
Within a matter of four weeks I’ll be searching for these little signs of life. Hints of spring sprouting up from the garden’s soil.
It took missing the arrival of Jeffersonia for a few springs before I etched into my memory to be on the alert. They arrive when there is still snow around. In my gardens generally mid to late March.
Jeffersonia is native to eastern North America but is listed as a threatened or endangered plant in Georgia, Iowa, New York, and New Jersey because of habitat destruction and invasive species.
The flower of Jeffersonia is atop a bare stalk. It’s composed of eight white petals which as a bud were protected by four sepals. Two of those fading sepals can be seen here drooping below the flower, a washed out pale purple with a slight hint of green.
The petals surround yellowish stamens and in the center a green ovary. Quite the fleeting bloom, the petals fall after just a couple days.
A common name for Jeffersonia, Twinleaf, comes from the shape of the leaf. Open butterfly wings. Each pair, one leaf nearly split in two.
The flowers as they decline produce a fruit. A fruit that brings a smile to my heart. Is it a fruit or actually a smiley outer space alien?
The seeds inside this capsule each have an appendage called an elaiosome which attract ants with its lipids and proteins. The ants carry the seeds to their underground nest where the elaisomes are fed to their larvae. After the feeding, the seeds are discarded in the ant’s nest to their “trash room.” The perfect place for seeds to grow. ANT FARMERS! If you would like to add a fancy word to your vocabulary, this whole process of “ant farming” is called myrmecochory.
Tall Anemone (Anemone virginiana). A gift that shows up in my gardens thanks to Mother Nature. Filled with delight when it makes an appearance as a volunteer.
A plant native to eastern North America where it can be found in 38 of the 50 United States. In the north from Maine to Minnesota and clear to the south, Georgia and Louisiana.
A beautiful flower which has a trick up its little sleeve. Those “petals” of white or pale green are not petals at all but are sepals. And take a look at the photo above, with the crab spider on the lower right sepal. It’s just waiting to pounce on a pollinator that may come by.
The central yellow green area is the pistillate head which is encircled by stamens topped with yellow or light brown anthers. Those anthers are covered with pollen that lures hoverflies, sweat bees and other small bees.
Summer moves along. The sepals fall away and the pistillate head expands as seeds are created.
Those seeds become surrounded in a woolly world. Fluff that becomes a transportation system. Caught by the wind the seeds are sent on their way.
But that transportation system takes time. See that snow? Over the winter the seed heads persist waiting for the perfect breeze. And waiting for something else.
As the pollen lures pollinators, the fluff of the seed pod lures nest builders.
Come spring birds are assembling nests. Nests occasionally of fluff.
A Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus) knows where to find its fluff. In the garden next to the daffodils. Perfect for the nest.
No falling today, even though I’m out in The Incredible World of Ice and Snow. Walking in it feels like walking in a landscape filled with ice cubes. But OMG how beautiful.
And along with the occasional drip drip drip there’s also the loud sound of snow and ice CRASHING to the glazed forest floor, and then CHITTER CHITTER CHITTER as the ice tumbles down the mountain on the slick surface of ice and cold under the trees.
Repeating over and over and once again over. Almost comical and entertaining. For me seeking a distraction from the hum drum of pandemic. Seeking out Mother Nature’s comfort.
And then the visuals, THICK ICE. My footsteps shattering the ice, as if breaking a mirror, and sinking into the soft snow which doesn’t make a sound. Only the SHATTER CRUNCH of my steps. My tracks now CRACKED GLASS-like in the snow.
All the branches of all the trees thickly coated with bumpy ice.
And now the needles that are sheltered by larger collections of pine needles. Not covered in ice but FROSTED BANNERS. TINY FLAGS all perfectly still in their fluttering. RIME ICE. So delicate. So tiny compared to the THICK ICE.
I could have stayed out all day long but it was lunch time.
Quite the contrast to their breeding season during which Northern Cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis) are singularly territorial, winter is a time for them to hang out in flocks.
Sitting in the blueberry bushes waiting their turn at the platform feeder. Waiting for a chance at the sunflower seeds.
Or just sitting soaking up the sun enjoying its warmth.
It surprises me everyday to see so many beautiful Cardinals gathering in the snow, soft buff colored and brilliant red exclamation points in the black and white landscape.
The name is Snow Drop (Galanthus nivalis). This is what it looks like right now against my back steps as night time temperatures go down to well below freezing.
It welcomes those temperatures and its namesake, snow, without a care.
One very hardy plant that grows up from a bulb.
A plant that is native to Europe and southwestern Asia. It’s well behaved and stays where I plant it.
No worry of it being invasive and all the while brings joy in the middle of winter.
Hawaiian shave ice. Snow collects in the cone shapes that American Beech (Fagus grandifolia) leaves make during the winter. It reminds me of a trip long ago. A trip to Hawaii to see a total solar eclipse. A trip to be introduced to Hawaiian shave ice, which brings me back to the subject of my post.
Beech trees are obvious during the winter up here on my mountain. They are a tree that is shade tolerant and will happily grow at an unhurried pace, just waiting for surrounding trees to decline and provide that lovely spot of sunshine. Their marcescent leaves make them stand out against the many gray trunks of larger trees. If not for the drooping sepia leaves that cling until spring their smooth gray bark would blend right in.
As the tree matures that smooth gray bark doesn’t change much. Whether a young tree or an older tree, it still looks like the skin of an elephant.
The leaves of American Beech brings to mind another member of its family Fagaceae, the beloved American Chestnut tree, which has a very similar, ocean wave edge to its leaf.
Another point that you might keep in mind if you are looking for an American Beech tree, is its leaf buds which resemble thorns. Nothing to worry about though. They look like thorns but they’re friendly.
Those leaf buds will expand come spring, the leaves unfolding into emeralds to decorate the summer vista. Then in autumn they will shout with warm color, yummy splendor.
It snowed overnight. Wet puffy snow has covered everything. I’ve been transported into a Christmas card waiting to be signed and sent on its way.
Pitch Pine (Pinus rigida)
It’s the second snow here this winter making winter seem a bit more like the way winters ought to be. The winters that I think of when I think back to Kilmer Street and that wonderful hill. A great sledding hill, and oh! those snow forts!
Witch Hazel (Hamamelis virginiana)
I’m roaming this morning. Me with my camera getting pelted with snowballs as the wet snow dropped from the trees. We stopped to get a picture of the berries of Smooth Sumac that the Northern Flicker, and Hermit Thrush love to gobble.
Smooth Sumac (Rhus glabra)
The snow has really accumulated on the leaves of the White Oak tree. Young White Oak trees often keep their leaves during winter. Other trees that have this same characteristic are Beech, and Hornbeam. They are said to be marcescent.
White Oak (Quercus alba)
The snow has collected in the Flowering Dogwood trees as if they are stocking up on snowballs. Getting set for that big snowball battle surely soon to happen.
Flowering Dogwood (Cornus florida)
Camera and I follow the tracks of a wild turkey for a long way, until the tracks take a turn up and over a rock wall. We don’t feel like climbing.
Wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo)track. Glove added for scale.
The turkey’s track is about 4.5 inches long and the big critter has a stride of 2.5 feet. WOW!
Forsythia
The Forsythia has reached up, catching many clumps of snow. Stretching to where the sun might have been on any other morning. Stretching tall, other branches drooping. All waiting for the warmth of the sun. The warmth of early spring to be brightened by its blooms.
Perhaps those blooms will wait a little longer. I don’t think winter is close to being over. I hope not.
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!”
