Along the trails here in the Blue Ridge, come April there will be green leaves peeking up through the earth.
Take your time as you hike. There’s so much out there to see. Like patches of Wild Ginger(Asarum canadense).
Each plant sends up two heart shaped leaves that split at the soil’s surface. At the axis of those leaves the plant’s single flower appears and reclines on the forest floor. You’ve got to really look for the flower to see it. It’s under the leaves.
These blooms are maroon and the aroma is more like spoiled meat than a blossom ought to be. The pollinators these flowers attract are flies that get the job done.
I’m looking forward to finding these flowers, and after their bloom, finding their seed capsules. My camera needs to capture an image of the seed capsule of a Wild Ginger.
I’ve written about Wood Poppy (Stylophorum diphyllum) before but I enjoy the native flower with its happy yellow so much I’d like to tell you more about it.
The deeply lobed green-blue leaves of Wood Poppy are poking up from the surface of the soil here in the Blue Ridge now, as the month of March approaches its midpoint.
By the beginning of April, I expect I’ll be seeing some woolly buds ready to reveal their four golden petals.
As the flower opens the two pale green sepals that protect the bud soon fall away.
The flowers of Wood Poppy provide pollen but not nectar to their visitors. Those flowers have many stamens that are topped with rich yellow anthers surrounding a pistil, style and stigma.
After insect or self pollination a seed capsule is formed which eventually hangs below the leaves.
Many seeds are released from the capsule. Seeds which are distributed in a process called mymecocory, or in simpler terms, seed dispersal by ants. These seeds have nutrient rich appendages called elaisomes. Ants collect the seeds so that their larvae can be fed the elaisomes and the remains of the seeds are tossed away in the ant colony’s “trash room.”
That trash room in an underground ant colony is the perfect place to start growing seeds. Of course the ants aren’t aware of it, but they are perfect little ant farmers. Starting a new cycle of Wood Poppies.
This native perennial is found in southeastern Canada, eastern North America (as well as New Mexico and Colorado) and eastern Mexico. Wood Betony (Pedicularis canadensis).
The first time I ever saw this plant was along a trail here in the Blue Ridge. As is often the case, I took a picture of the flower, went home and found out what it was by paging through my wildflower books.
Wood Betony is an interesting plant, aside from looking like a collection of cute little turkey heads, it is a hemiparasite, meaning it is partly dependent upon other plants as a source of water and nutrients. If there are no plants available around it, it will get by using its own resources to obtain water and nutrients. Exactly which plants Wood Betony parasitizes is not known for sure but it is thought to be native trees such as oaks and native grasses.
Bumblebees are a major pollinator of Wood Betony. And after the flowers fade, seed capsules grow in their place. Seed capsules that burst open explosively to scatter the seeds across the nearby landscape.
Since my first sighting of Wood Betony I have found a nursery that propagates its own Wood Betony. And now I’ve added a few plants to my garden. I’m looking forward to seeing them in bloom again come the middle of April.
That bobbing of the tail and saying its name makes identification of the Eastern Phoebe (Sayornis phoebe) mighty easy. Many bird songs baffle me, but this one is easy. Just think “fee-bee” (Phoebe) and you’ve got it.
I was delighted as I was refreshing my memory about what Phoebes eat to see that they not only eat flying insects which they capture in mid-air but they also eat spiders, millipedes and TICKS! Yay Phoebes! I can’t find a specific reference to it, but now I’m wondering if they also eat brown marmorated stink bugs. Too bad that they are such solitary birds. I’d love to have a big flock of them around.
Not as exciting as the Phoebe eating ticks and BMSBs but they do sometimes even eat small fish from shallow water. Such a talented bird.
As I look through my images thinking of which to include I see this photo of a Phoebe at one of my birdbaths. This reminds me to mention that as a pair goes through the process of selecting a site for breeding, one of their considerations is having a source of water nearby. That is something that I always try to provide in every season. You’ll get many more birds stopping by to see you with that birdbath set up. All four seasons.
The first tree I remember getting to know. Growing right next to our patio. As a little one I’d listen for its “heartbeat” and give it “injections” though now I’m sure it was totally healthy. Back then I had the title of “Tree Doctor” and would take care of it. A Tulip Poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera).
Here, my Mom on our patio and that tree, my “patient”, in this image slightly left and behind her.
One of many common names, Tulip Poplar, is confusing since the tree is not closely related to true poplar trees or to tulips.
Another name from long ago comes from Native Americans using the wood for dugout canoes. It was called Canoewood by early settlers west of the Appalachian Mountains.
The bark of the Tulip Poplar as a young tree has a smooth appearance.
As the tree ages, the bark becomes beautiful with deeply interlaced furrows. The tree can grow as much as three feet per year but as it ages that growth rate slows. Under near optimum conditions a Tulip Poplar can live to be three hundred years old and reach a height of 200 feet.
The “tulip” in the common name Tulip Poplar comes from the look of the flowers of the tree. Since the trees are so tall, often the blooms aren’t even visible.
After the bloom comes the fruit which is a cone-shaped arrangement of winged seeds called samaras.
And of course if one were to be in a parade the leaves would make a perfect banner to carry.
Here in the Blue Ridge depending on your elevation you’ll be seeing Rue Anemone (Thalictrum thalictroides) beginning to bloom around the middle of April.
This spring ephemeral is native to deciduous woodlands of eastern North America. So small, you must really look for them along the trail. They grow to only four to eight inches high.
Also known as Windflower, the flower’s thin stems give way to their waving in the tiniest breeze.
The flower itself has no actual petals, but is a circle of white or pink sepals with a dense cluster of small green pistils in the center. Those pistils are in turn surrounded by stamens with white filaments and soft yellow anthers. In summer each of the blooms are replaced by four to fifteen pale green turning to dark brown achenes, which is a fruit containing a single seed.
In May, trailside with another native flower, Golden Ragwort (Packera aurea).
And in the middle of August as things begin to shut down, take a rest, slow down and recharge for next spring.
Visitors to my feeders every now and then. Always arriving in pairs. The Mourning Dove (Zenáida macroúra).
For a while my granddaughter’s favorite bird, I think in part because of the soft coo-oo that the male makes. Good for her that she knows a bird call at the age of 6. I doubt I knew any at that age. Still at THIS age I know very few.
Another sound associated with these Doves is the fluttering sound the feathers of the wings make as the bird takes flight and lands. And that flight is impressive, up to 55 miles an hour.
These Doves generally mate for life and when they have a brood it usually consists of two squabs (young). In warmer areas they might have as many as six broods per year. Whew!
The Mourning Dove is a ground feeder and its diet is almost entirely seed. They’re part of my little community of birds here at Snow Mountain Observatory and Frog Farm.
So many mushrooms up here in the mountains. So many different sizes from diminutive to quite substantial. So many different colors from the expected tan or white, to bright red, turquoise, lavender and periwinkle blue. Some that are sought after because of their legendary tastiness to some that can bring on serious illness or even death, if you eat just a small amount.
Don’t depend on my photos or this post to decide you should collect and eat wild mushrooms. For the most part, I only take photographs of mushrooms that I find in the woods. No eating them. I leave the risky stuff, like eating them, to those that are more brave or crazy than I am.
These mushrooms are Morels (Morchella). Yes, the type that I mentioned earlier with a legendary tastiness. They’re quite common here in the Blue Ridge.
The middle of April is when I start thinking they’ll be making their presence known. Bring on some nice rain and they’re sure to be found. The fruiting body of a fungus. Morels or Merkels.
Though thought of as flourishing in the woods, I found some growing in my yard when I was living in Arlington, Virginia. Certainly not the country. Our yard DID have eight mature oak trees, but certainly not the woods either.
I’ve never seen one but there are other mushrooms, called False Morels, which could be mistaken as True Morels by someone hunting up Morels. Some pictures of these counterfeits look to me like masses of earthworms. I’ve seen them described as looking as though the mushroom has been stepped on. Another sure giveaway is that True Morels when cut in half lengthwise are totally hollow from its tiptop to the bottom of its stem. No cottony fibers, nothing, just hollowness.
If you’d rather have a Morel that you can keep forever, or light for a romantic dinner, here’s a suggestion. I got this Morel candle at my favorite store here in Stanardsville, Noonwhistlepottery.com. I don’t know if they have any of these candles right now but I think you’d enjoy the visit if you stopped in! Tell Holly and John I said, “Hi!”
Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis). It’s no secret that I am totally crazy about winter. The black and white, pen and ink landscape takes me back to my childhood. Add a male Northern Cardinal to that beautiful landscape and you’ve got the perfect image.
The female Cardinal has her own beauty. Soft tawny brown with subtle accents of rich red and bright orange. A winged creature to marvel at.
The native range of the Cardinal is southeastern Canada through eastern North America including part of Texas, a small section of New Mexico, about half of Arizona, down through Mexico, Belize, and Guatemala.
And with all the coming and going of other birds, the Cardinal does not migrate.
During the mating season male Cardinals become extremely territorial but come winter they will flock together by the dozen or several dozen. A stunning sight on a cold winter’s day.
