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.
In North America there are seven native species of chickadee. Two of those species are the Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus) which are found from New England to the West Coast along the northern tier of the United States and southern Canada, and the Carolina Chickadee (Poecile carolinensis) which resides in southeastern U.S.
The two species look extremely similar but under normal circumstances a birder can just look at the range map and go by that. If it is in the Black-capped range then it is that species and the same for the Carolina. But for a very thin strip across the U.S. there is a problem.
The native range of these two species overlap in a very narrow zone going from New Jersey to Kansas, and that zone takes a dip south along the Appalachian Mountains. In that narrow zone where the two species meet it becomes nearly impossible to tell one species from another since they can hybridize. And to add to the identity challenge in the overlap zone, each species can learn the song and call of the opposite species.
So here at my feeders, they are not Black-capped Chickadees or Carolina Chickadees, but just Chickadees. That keeps it simple.
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.
I’m on the watch for the Wood Frogs (Lithobates sylvaticus) to arrive at my little manmade pond. During the cold of winter Wood Frogs hibernate in the soil under leaf litter where their bodies go through freeze and thaw cycles depending on weather conditions.
In mid February they awaken from their hibernation and search for vernal pools for breeding, often returning to the same pool year to year. They sometimes begin their breeding even before ice is totally gone from the pond.
While actively hunting for mates they’re quite the noise makers, sounding a “clack, clack, clack” particularly during and after rain.
Their egg masses are impressive to see, and can contain one thousand to three thousand eggs. The eggs hatch in nine and thirty days, depending on the temperature of the water.
The tadpoles undergo metamorphosis at about two months and crawl out of the vernal pool as tiny frogs. At this point, I’ve got to watch that I don’t step on any of the cute little things.
A fully grown Wood Frog varies in size from one and a half to three inches, and they generally live no longer than three years.
I’m looking forward to hearing that, “clack, clack, clack” sound!
In my yard I’ve got a good number of mature blueberry bushes. Twelve? Fourteen? Enough that I can stock my freezer with loads of quarts of luscious berries to last throughout the year. And the birds? They’re welcome to their share. I love that the berries entice them.
Of the birds that come to enjoy the berries some are frequent visitors that I know well. A cardinal, a perfect example. Other birds don’t often make their presence known depending on the magic of camouflage to hide from my attentive eyes. A female scarlet tanager blending right in.
Each of the seasons provides a different aspect. A different way to appreciate the berries, the bushes. Winter with the buds anticipating the following spring develop sometimes encased in ice.
Winter as the rusty-red branches provide an accent to the snow that falls.
Spring with buds creamy white. Spring with buds soft red.
Spring and her blooms. A pollinators’ playground.
And then there’s summer. You know what that means.
Harvesting and eating.
Autumn celebrates with a brilliant palette. Sumptuous warm colors that tell me there is more to come with each season.
Can you tell? I am in love with blueberries and their bushes.
I’ve always lived in an area where Dark-eyed Juncos (Junco hyemalis) are called snowbirds, since they migrate to the area for the winter.
I had a surprise back in the summer 2014 when I went just a short distance from my cabin, up the mountain, to Shenandoah National Park and saw Juncos enjoying the warm summer weather. After checking I realized that there is a population of Juncos that spend the summer along the ridge of the Appalachian Mountains. So close to me in their own little world and no migrating thanks to the higher elevation.
Back here at home though they’re still my snowbirds.
There’s another orchid out there waiting for you. Something to look for as you wander the woods during the winter (when there is no snow on the ground!). An EVERGREEN native orchid. Downy Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyear pubescens). Native to eastern North America. Actually one of the most common orchids on this part of the continent.
I find the leaves quite striking. ITS OWN LITTLE ART DISPLAY. Blooms appear in mid-July till September. They’re on a stalk, called a raceme, that is 4 to 14 inches tall, with flowers up and down the top portion, flowers facing in all directions. Those flowers, very small, are white or pale green.
Something to add to my “MUST DO” list. Get photos of these orchids. Right now I don’t have any. At least there are none in the huge collection of my photos that are keyworded so that I can locate them. Stay tuned.
