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!

Red-spotted Newt

I have an adult Red-spotted Newt, Notophthalmus viridescens, in my small pond. Doing research, and learning about this newt has been a fun journey.

A type of salamander, they start out their life in a pond, marsh, stream or small lake, as an egg mass that resembles a big wad of cotton, attached to a piece of underwater vegetation.

The Red-spotted Newt, lays her eggs, one at a time, and the eggs, often numbering a few hundred, will hatch in a month or two, depending on the water temperature. When the eggs hatch they become larvae with feathery gills and a coloring much like the adult Red-spotted Newt.

**Juvenile stage of the Red-spotted Newt, land based, Red Eft**

The larvae live in their watery environment for 2 to 5 months eating aquatic insects and small snails.

At the end of summer, larvae will leave the water, shedding their gills, developing sac-like lungs, and begin another stage in their lives, as Red Efts, remarkably beautiful orange beings with brighter orange spots, surrounded with black circles.

I enjoy finding Red Efts, while I’m out in the woods. They are slow moving critters, appearing to be willing models for my photography.

They spend as many as 4 years as terrestrial creatures. During this stage the Red Efts will hibernate during the winter under a log or rock. During the summer in dry weather they may seek shelter under those same logs or rocks to keep their skin moist, coming out during rainy weather.

**An adult Red-spotted Newt in his underwater world**

For the next couple years, the Red Eft will become darker, and develop a longer, blade-like tail. He will find a body of water to enter, where he will live for the rest of his life as an aquatic adult. In this stage he will eat insects, frog and fish eggs, crustaceans, and worms.

Notice the long tail of the Red-spotted Newt in his underwater world — **Notice the long tail of the adult Red-spotted Newt in my pond**

Red-spotted Newts can live to be 12 to 15 years old. Quite a long life for a critter so small, generally growing as an adult to 5 inches long.

It took me a few years, first to find that I had a newt in my pond. And then to have the information click in my brain, to realize that this newt, and the Red Eft, and all the cottony masses of eggs were all the same species.

Fun finds in the forest!

Ants That Are Farmers

Large-flowered Trillium, Trillium grandiflorum — Large-flowered Trillium, *Trillium grandiflorum*

Every now and then, when I am doing research on a plant, I will discover that the plant has an unusual quality. The plants with this unusual quality are said to be myrmecochorous. They use a method of seed dispersal that is facilitated by ants.

Seed pod of Twinleaf, Jeffersonia diphylla — Seed pod of Twinleaf, *Jeffersonia diphylla*

The seeds of myrmecochorous plants have fleshy appendages called elaiosomes which are packed with nutrients, and are tempting to ants. The picture above is of a seed pod of a Twinleaf, Jeffersonia diphylla, filled with seeds with elaiosomes.

Twinleaf, Jeffersonia diphylla — Twinleaf, *Jeffersonia diphylla*

Ants out hunting for food will stumble upon these seeds, gather them, and return to their colony to feed the elaiosomes to hungry larvae.

Spring Beauty, Claytonia virginica — Spring Beauty, *Claytonia virginica*

Once the elaiosomes are consumed, the ants have no further use for the seeds, and throw them into their colony’s “trash room.”

Wild Bleeding Heart, Dicentra Eximia — Wild Bleeding Heart, *Dicentra Eximia*

The environment in the “trash room” is a near perfect setting to start seeds – underground, and full of nourishment essential for plant growth.

Common Blue Violet, Viola sororia — Common Blue Violet, *Viola sororia*

A new crop of plants, thanks to ant farmers.

The plants included in this blog are but a few of the myrmecochorous plants of my area, the mountains of central Virginia, and world wide there are more than 3,000 species.

Sap is Flowing

In the past three days I have been entertained by a visitor that I have not seen for more than two years. I don’t really know if this visitor is actually one that I saw during the bitterest of late January and early February of 2014, but she is quite fun to watch whether new to my woods or not. I can see her out my kitchen window. She is a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus various.

Back in the winter of 2014, a family of Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers showed up at the “watering hole” adjacent to the woods, and just outside my kitchen window. Female, male and juvenile. It was so cold that I was concerned for them. The only thing they seemed to be doing was enjoying the warm water that I had provided, and shivering. Particularly the female. In the picture above, by the way, is the male. Notice his stronger coloring, and the crimson patch at this throat, compared to the first picture, my current visitor, a female. They stayed around for a few days, during those extreme days of 2014, and then I never saw any of this species of woodpecker again, until just a few days ago.

The female that has appeared at the suet feeder has declared this suet to be hers and hers alone.

She takes her time feeding at the suet and takes a break, clinging to the little Dogwood trunk just a few feet away, with her sharply clawed toes. There have been Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, and Downy Woodpeckers who are regulars at the suet feeder. Now, if the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker sees someone that she considers a violator of her space she immediately throws her body at the intruder. This has gone on for three solid days, every moment that the suet feeder has been out there, in daylight. I don’t know where she goes as the sun goes down, but she must trust that nobody is going to eat her suet.

This behavior has me curious and I’ve gone to an amazing reference “book”, the internet. I find that Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers drill holes into trees that create sap flows, called sapwells. Sapwells provide the birds with sap which they lap up with their brush-tipped tongues, a path to the tree’s cambium which they eat, and the sap traps insects which they also eat.

The information about the sapwells is not new to me. Up in the woods there are trees that have lines of holes. These are sapwells created by the Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers. Even in the trees immediately around my cabin, I don’t have concern about the woodpeckers harming my trees. Seldom is serious harm done.

I do find a bit of information that might apply. These Sapsuckers tend to watch over and protect their sapwells. This has me wondering. Could she have tapped into the little Dogwood? I go out and sure enough, I find a sapwell! And within a short time, she is working on another Dogwood just a short distance away. From my perch at the kitchen window I can see telltale moisture around the area where she has been working.

Nature is always prodding me to dig to get more information. Dig to learn more. I love Mother Nature.

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.

A Fresh Start And Spring

What a relief to get back to Tendrils and sharing my photographs with you. Much like many see winter a burdensome season, I felt isolated while this blog was on the fritz. Actually that is not how I see winter though. To me winter is a time of recalling childhood, sledding, snow-angels, snow days off from school, mugs of hot chocolate, a time of pure joy.

We are now in our last couple weeks of winter, so bear with me, if you will, as I delight in sharing with you a snow that fell in my woods just yesterday. A wimpy snow. A snow that was totally gone in less than eight hours. But a snow that brought with it, great beauty and magic.

The snow that fell overnight, fell in perfect temperatures. Temperatures that allowed the flakes to stick to everything. Everything that is, except the lane, leading out to the dirt road up the mountain that also was not covered with snow. Here you see snowflakes perched atop a rose hip, its crystalline structure still intact.

The snow and its sleight of hand created a Fairyland that is only seen in winter. A Fairyland where the forest is given a new color. White. A color of joy, along with sparkly jewels. Jewels that drape atop branches that might otherwise be bare. Spider webs become necklaces, strung with diamonds, diamonds made of snowflakes.

The snow laughs at the tractor, meant to be a spell to keep the frozen jewels away. Buries it in magnificent fluff.

But winter can only stay around for so long and must give way to spring. Give way to flowers and warmth. Give way to joy in new beginnings. Spring is making its way in my woods. Soon the black and white landscape will be green again.

Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers

Beautiful patterns, holes in tree bark, looking like a sort of Morse Code, is not the work of Martians leaving us a message, or wood boring insects. These holes are the work of a brightly colored, medium sized woodpecker, the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus varius. The photo, above, is a cluster of holes (called sapwells) that I discovered less than a week ago, in an apple tree in front of my cabin. The picture, below, is lines of sapwells in an Eastern Red Cedar. Ruby-throated Hummingbirds are attracted to sapwells, and will drink the sap that the Sapsucker has inadvertently provided for them. The Sapsucker watches for such things, and will chase the mooching hummingbird away.

The Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, during early spring, tests and selects trees that will be the source of food during the coming season. The Sapsucker will consume the sap, and insects, that occasionally get trapped in the sap, coming back many times a day. The same tree may be a source of food for a Sapsucker and his mate, for several years.

If you are concerned about a special tree that is decorated with these sapwells, you might try wrapping the trunk of the tree with hardware cloth, or burlap.

The picture, above, is a male (left) and female (right) Yellow-bellied Sapsucker during a snow storm, last year in my woods. A pair will stay together during the nesting season to raise their young together. Often they will reunite after migrating, sometimes even returning to the same nesting area.

The picture, above, is a male Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.

Sapsuckers are not normally found at backyard feeders, although occasionally they might be found at suet. In the very coldest days of the winter, here in the Blue Ridge Mountains, of central Virginia, I will see Sapsuckers at my water warmer.

A female Yellow-bellied Sapsucker in the picture above.

Both the female and the male share duties, of incubation of their eggs, and feeding of the young, once they are hatched. The eggs hatch in 12 to 13 days. The babies are fed insects, sap, and fruit. Nestlings leave the nest 25 to 29 days after emerging from their eggs, and are fed by their parents for 10 days after leaving the nest. There is one brood per year.

And in the photo, above, a confused Sapsucker? I don’t have an answer. This is not an unusual sight. I’ve captured Sapsuckers in photographs on this utility pole many times. Obviously this little lady would not find any sap flowing. Perhaps she is using the pole as a communication device, as she tap, tap, taps?

My Winter Birds

Perhaps these are my pets, the birds that come to my feeders. Wild birds that give me comfort just by being there. The bird you see in the picture, above, is a winter bird in my area (the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia), a White-throated Sparrow, Zonotrichia albicollis. He has a sweet song that is easy to remember, using the mnemonic, “Poor Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody.”

I know that autumn will not last much longer, when I see these little birds, rustling around in the leaves on the forest floor. I have to look very closely to see them. Their feathers provide a great camouflage against the dry, brown, fallen leaves.

I must wait for the bears to retire for their winter slumber, before I put out the feeders for the cold months of the year. Otherwise I am likely to need to purchase a new feeder. Believe it or not, the bears do like bird seed too, and will carry a feeder off, or just totally destroy one with ease.

The bear, above, came out of his den, unannounced on January 17th, to cart off one of my feeders. He chose a new model that was designed to keep squirrels out. Needless to say, bird feeder designers don’t aim to keep bears out of the seeds. I suppose that would be an impossible task. If I know that bears are roaming, I don’t put out feeders.

I’m hoping Mr. Bear, is now back in his den. Hoping that the cold will keep him all snug and warm, and away from the bird feeders for while longer. Not only do I enjoy simply watching the birds and their antics, I depend on the feeders to bring them within easy shutter range, so that I can get pictures of my winter pets.

Another bird of winter, is the Dark-eyed Junco, Junco hyemalis. Most of them summer in the far north, some going into the Arctic. A few however, do stay in this general area year ’round. I have seen some summering in the Shenandoah National Park, which is just a short distance from my cabin. Here at my feeders though, it is only the migrating Dark-eyed Junco, that I see.

I speak of the wild birds as my pets. I don’t have any “all the time” pets living with me. A frequent visitor, though, is my son’s and daughter-in-law’s cat, Betelgeuse.

That’s Betelgeuse, in the picture above. She’s a rescue, Maine Coon cat. She is a predator. For her own safety and health, and for the sake of my wild pets, she is an indoor pet. I hope your cat is an indoor cat as well, for the sake of my wild pets.

Hackberry

Here on Snow Mountain, in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, I see quite a few hackberry trees, Celtis occidentalis. Most are trees with circumferences of 5 inches or smaller, trees that have not been around long. Their small size may be, in part, because the forest up here is a young forest. Back in the 1950s and 1960s the mountainsides were farmland—no forests. Farm families had a tough existence along the Blue Ridge, with loads of rocks to deal with, and difficulty getting up and down the very steep, dirt roads. Time marches on, and now there is forest up here and very few people.

The hackberry tree is a favorite of mine, simply because of its bark. This bark is what first brought the tree to my attention. It looks like a topographic map, in 3D, warty and corky. I frequently do work in Shenandoah National Park, on the Buck Hollow Trail, and get to see larger, more mature hackberry trees at that location.

Hackberry trees are native to North America. Given favorable conditions, one of these trees could live to be 150 or 200 years of age. They grow to be medium sized trees, 60 or 80 feet tall or taller, depending on the soil and moisture conditions. They tolerate pollution, although only occasionally are they used as a street tree.

The trees’ berries are edible, though I seldom notice them. Summer brings the berries a red-orange color, which turns to dark purple in the fall. Birds love them.

Looking much like a berry, what I do notice, and use as an identifier, are galls that seem to always be on some of the branch tips or just below the leaf on the petiole.

The galls are the home to young nymphs of an insect—the petiole gall psyllid. These insects and their galls do not do major harm to the tree.

Along with the wildlife benefits of the berries, the hackberry tree is also the larval host to question mark, mourning cloak, and American snout butterflies. It is also the nectar source for several other butterflies and moths.

The photograph, above, is of an American snout, who alighted on my camera strap last summer, as I was hiking. A chance encounter with another admirer of the hackberry tree!

Snow Mountain

This morning I was greeted by a tiny bit less than an inch of snow here on the mountain. I skipped yoga (!!) and spent the morning walking and enjoying the sounds of snow. Okay, mainly the sounds of birds enjoying the new, white blanket. Many were robins, and cedar waxwings gathering in the tree tops, exchanging stories of how this winter has been mighty wimpy so far. They agreed with me. The winter is still young. There is still hope.

This first picture, above, is of greenbrier. There’s loads of it up here. It is a native, and though many people don’t like it, it has numerous benefits. Greenbrier provides good cover for small animals, and some animals eat the leaves and stems. Deer, beaver, and rabbits are three of the animals. That they eat this plant, impresses me. Those stems, complete with thorns, must be mighty tough. There is an impressive number of birds that enjoy the berries during the winter, along with squirrel, raccoon and possum.

These red fruits, are rose hips, from a plant that I really wish would just go away. It is a non-native, invasive. Rosa multiflora produces white flowers with yellow centers during its short blooming period. It forms an impenetrable mass, spreads rapidly and has very unfriendly thorns that are hooked backward, making being snagged an unpleasant experience. I’m waiting and hoping. There is a virus that is attacking these walls of thorns, slowly decreasing its population here in the Blue Ridge. I’m sorry that the same virus may be putting your garden rose bushes in jeopardy, but I am cheering it on, in the case of rosa multiflora.

Another plant that I captured in pixels on my walk this morning, smooth sumac. Among the plants that grow up here, I have many favorites. This is one. My favorite time for this sumac is winter, when birds enjoy its brilliant red berries. Cardinals, and many types of woodpeckers are among the visitors to the small trees.

Snow still covers my dirt, twisty turny, steep mountain road, but tomorrow morning I’ll be heading down to go back to yoga class. My “snow day” was a total pleasure. Yoga will be tomorrow’s total pleasure!