Mother Nature is Behind Schedule

All of my decorations are packed away and my tree is cleaned of lights and also boxed in the attic. I went out to the front yard this morning and found that Mother Nature was still procrastinating, but I do like the way she has kept the lights on this Japanese maple.

I know that they will probably be gone by tomorrow afternoon, but today I will enjoy.

Cherry On the Top

Years ago, when I first moved into this house, I was impressed with the fall colors that appear in my woods.  The tulip poplar trees are the first to change, dressing their leaves in deep yellow.  This is followed by the red-buds which also turned a golden hue.  Then the dogwoods blush in a deep blood red.  The oaks compete with their rust red colors which glow when the sun hits them in the late afternoon.  In various corners the sassafras burns bright red almost painful to the eyes.  The native maple trees are arbitrary in their color change depending on rain and temperature, some autumns they start outlines of red and then fall to the ground and darken to red-brown, while on optimal autumns they become the reddest of the reds putting all the other trees and shrubs to shame.  The hollies and cedars and the slash pines stand in the chorus line and continue their rich backdrops of forest green in this autumnal painting. 

Yet, despite the inconvenient truth of global warming, I was not totally satisfied with this group of show-offs and wanted a sugar maple to add that peach red color that is not found in any of my native trees.  Three years ago, in the fall, I paid $60.00 and planted a 6 foot high twig of a sugar maple that appears to be grafted onto another type of root maple.  This year she has taken the diva role.

At first she was a little shy and just blushed, because she is so small and the fig in front of her is such a big bully of a robust tree.

 

But just like any happy four-year-old, once she gets her prettiest dress on, she is ready to take center stage.

And when the sun tickles her directly, it makes her laugh out loud and forget her lines.  Unfortunately, this week, the nasty wind is tearing most of the ribbons from her hair and it is getting time to take the final bow for this performance.

Careful Photography

Driving along the road in the Shenandoah National Park this autumn there were many opportunities for photographic moments.  I eventually filled my memory card with an abundance of mountainsides and landscapes with distant vistas and I had to look elsewhere for creative vision.  I saw this lovely bed of dying ferns and stopped to take a photo.

Since this was a small hill at the side of the highway, I did not have to get too low to get the angle I wanted.  I hate giving others a good laugh as I try to pull myself up from the ground.  Many times photographers have to get down and dirty to create new angles in their photography. This time I only had to look up the hill at the side of the road to get the low angle that I wanted.

Later in the day I had to squat a little lower to get these sumac flower heads which are always reliable in fall when looking for red colors. Next I got down on my knees in the wet woods at Gettysburg battlefield to get the photo below.

But be careful...in spite of its dramatic beauty it is dangerous...this is poison ivy. I have to be even more careful and be sure to look up now and again because there are other dangers along the roadside.

Yes, it is blurry because I was having trouble concentrating.

Tree Poetry

My travel across the island of Jamaica put me in touch with some of the most beautiful trees I have ever seen.  Some of these trees have seen more history than I can imagine. Their scars and growth patterns are breathtaking. Their determination to grow in spite of any weather challenge makes me think of the resilience of the people of Jamaica.  Maybe there is something in the soil.

This tree is called the 'dreadlock' tree because of the growth pattern of the roots.

The netting on this tree is magnificent.

I am married to that tree-hugger in the blue shirt (click on the photo for a better view).  

That tree is really amazing and makes me feel very safe.

Death By Any Other Name

Called 'dead leaf retention'

by those who spend their lives

naming things and processes.

But for me,

I see it as the gentle open

palm revealing the past year's

life lines and energy dances

in the summer wind.

I see it as the refusal

to leave that last curtain call

instead to hold hands bravely

in the sun's spotlight

even though the applause has ended

and the fans have long gone home.

I Planted a Tree

A few years ago, having such hubris in trying to conform the forest to my taste, I planted a sugar maple in the single open part of my yard by the turn-around in the driveway.  This autumn rewarded me with such autumn beauty that the planting of this tree seems like an extra layer of icing on an already sweet cake.  As you can see it must share the space with piles of top soil or mulch or whatever we dump in that open area in the fall.  I live in the woods and yet I still plant trees, what can I say?  The first two years the leaves on this youngster turned crackly brown and fell to the ground in the fall revealing its skinny arms and I was pretty disappointed.  Yet, each spring I could run my fingers along the smooth gray trunk of the weeping bark and bring my fingertips to my mouth and taste the sweetest nectar.

This fall my tree has found her brazen courage. She is no longer a wall flower and dances with the delicate red maples and 100-foot golden poplars as if she belongs here.  She is like that pretty three-year-old that dances on the floor in front of the band, but like everyone is watching as she flips her strawberry blonde locks!

The dance is far too short, but I am glad I did not miss it.

Larix...Not to Be Confused with Dr. Seuss's Lorax

According to the highly respected Encyclopedia Britannica (you remember what an encyclopedia is...don't you?) the larch is any of 10 to 12 species of coniferous trees of the genus Larix. One species is found only in the Himalayas.  Another is known to grow in Siberia.  It is a plant that, like a monk, seems to need and want the simplest of life styles.  The most widely distributed North American species is the tamarack, hackmatack or eastern larch.  But the Pacific northwest is home to the western larch L. occidentalis which I think was the one I saw planting it roots so firmly in the harsh mountain limestone just at timberline in the Canadian Rockies.  See the golden sprays that look like aspen, and glow in the gentle sun above the evergreens in the photo below?  They cling to the mountain rim with such tenacious life and delicate beauty.

This tree is so unusual because it looks like a conifer and has needles and cones like a conifer, but changes color in the fall and drops its needles like a deciduous tree.  It also is unusual in that the needles are soft as kittens' whiskers when you touch them.  If you want to see this fantastic tree, you must pay your penance by hiking up the mountain past mud, grizzlies and snow into the thin and biting mountain air.  Since you may not want to do that, I will post a few of the beautiful rewarding trees I saw on my hike in their bronze fall glory.

It is no surprise that they inspire poetry from great poets.

Asides

Though the season's begun to speak

Its long sentences of darkness,

The upswept boughs of the larch

Bristle with gold for a week,

And then there is only the willow

To make bright interjection,

Its drooping branches decked

With thin leaves, curved and yellow,

Till winter, loosening these

With a first flurry and bluster,

Shall scatter across the snow-crust

Their dropped parentheses.

by Richard Wilber

Domestic Squabble in the Meadow

We had lunch beside this fungus and lichen covered log that rested beside the log on which we sat. Its stunning beauty was more enticing than any elaborate centerpiece in a fancy restaurant and the lighting was far lovelier than any candle arrangement. We ate sliced asian pears that were as crisp as but more sweet than apples. We had crunchy crackers and cheese, to complete the gourmet meal as the fall whispered its way into the tall trees in the ravines.

We also sat not far from this very rare beauty in the photograph above. It appears to be a white-leaved maple tree. I have never seen his before and there were no others the same color nearby. Is there such a thing as an albino tree and how does it produce food with no chlorophyll?

The last day of our travels it began raining steadily and the skies were very overcast. We realized we would probably not be hiking very much on the leaf covered and slippery trails. Therefore, we made a plan to drive to a distant valley that hung between 6,000 foot peaks. Getting there is a real challenge because the paved road soon changes to gravel and becomes a narrow lane and then becomes very winding with many blind curves. We had to keep alert as we encountered a few cars as well as large trucks coming down the mountain as we were trying to make our way up. We passed safely, but sometimes with only inches between the vehicles and just a few feet from the steep drop off on one side. This was not a trip for the weak of heart.

We were determined to reach the top because we had been told by the ranger that we might be rewarded on an overcast day by seeing elk that had been re-introduced into the area a number of years ago. "Surrounded by 6000-foot peaks, this isolated valley was the largest and most prosperous settlement in what is now the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Once known for its farms and orchards, today Cataloochee is one of the most picturesque areas of the park."

As can be seen from the photo above, we were rewarded with a sighting of elk, actually an entire herd. We saw several striking bull elk and a number of cows as well as younger calves. Most were collared or tagged and close enough to photograph. You can see the tag if you click on the photo.

Just as we approached this large bull saw that part of his harem was on the other side of the road. He bugled loudly several times (such a haunting call) before lowering his head back and trotting over to that side of the road to herd them back and away from some of the younger males that were casually grazing nearby. The testosterone in the air was palpable.

If you click on the photo above you can see more clearly the cows hurrying ahead of the bull and the young males on the far right wondering what all the fuss was about. They will probably figure it out next year.

Smokin', Really Smokin'.

These mountains are called The Great Smokies and are part of The Great Smoky Mountain National Park which protects the larger range of this group of mountains. It is a natural wonder that lies between the states of Tennessee and North Carolina and is part of the Appalachian Mountains. Fall is the most popular time of year to visit this area because the many hardwoods break forth in remarkable color. If you get up early, you can beat the rush as well as catch the best light for photography on the driveway...and you will be least likely to be hit by a car driven by a distracted driver as you run back and forth across the highway for best views.

The fall weather is perfect for wearing that favorite sweater in the morning and removing it to let the warm sun hit your shoulders in the afternoon.

This area got its name because the fog frequently hangs over the ranges in the early part of the day and looks like smoke in the valleys. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and with very good reason. There are over 800 hiking trails but the parkway is also lovely for the more sedentary tourists who do not wish to leave their car. The photos have been reduced in size. While these woods have the reputation of having the densest population of bears, I saw not a one! (What I DID see is yet to come.)

Then Again on the Other Side of the Continent

Fall in the mountains on the East side of the United States is very different than striking gold in the Rocky Mountains. Here is more like a bordello. Like striking sex? Here we have a hussy that is not afraid to flaunt her seductive beauty. She wears colored veils that she throws at your feet whether you look away or stare straight at her as she strips away those veils. She paints her toenails and fingernails with kaleidoscopic colors. With the same compelling feeling a photographer gets when capturing sunsets, this photographer cannot stop snapping away as every view is too lovely to not try to archive in digital pixels for years to come. This scene above was along a mountain river in Southern Virginia as we set out on our trip. (Click for a closer view if you have prurient interests, natch.)

This photo was along the road on the Blue Ridge Parkway early one morning as the sun peaked over the clouds hanging just at the horizon and sent a ray of light in the direction we were headed. Someone was keeping an eye out for us I am thinking.

A Hillside Treasure of Golden Coins Part 5

Sometimes you get very lucky.
Sometimes you are in the right place at exactly the right time.
Sometimes the earth empties her treasure chest of gold at your feet.

Golden aspens filled the hillsides as I gazed open-mouthed.
They glittered like gold coins from a pirate chest.
This is the kind of wealth you can store in your mind's heart for the cold winter.

One of my (our) tasks was to scatter ashes of loved ones.
We left our wealth in exchange for this beauty.
It was a golden offering of peace and rest.
(Boreas Pass Road, Colorado)

Tricks of Nature

I was snapping away in my back yard trying to get a better picture of the indigo buntings...now there are two males that visit each evening... without much success. They were quick and shy and my patience was wearing thin. I needed to rest my eyes and pulled away from the camera eyepiece and I looked up into the trees enjoying the beauty of the green late afternoon when my eye fell on the scene above. What was that little owl doing out in the middle of the day watching intently the small birds on the feeder below? Wow! If you cannot see it in this photo above you do not have the magical imagination needed.



So I zoomed in and of course, for those with better eyesight and less fatigued eyes than mine, this is what was actually on the tree...a branch bent and with a dot looking like an owl eye. No wonder birds are hard to spot with trees pretending they are birds!

Spring News

(I cannot for the life of me understand why blogger loads this strawberry plant photo sideways...maybe too much blog beer today?)


Some gardeners are proud of their green thumbs. You will recall last spring I put up a small boat-load of strawberries in the freezer (I think there are still a few pints left to thaw and use), and it looks like once again this year I will be wearing a red thumb during the month of May. These two beds of strawberry plants will eventually be moved outside under the blackberry bushes, but this year we put them in the raised bed as a holding area and they really, really,... I mean really liked it.

The dogwood purchased by hubby last spring is in all its pink glory and loves its location in one of the flower beds as well.

Yet the wild white dogwoods around the yard are just as lovely and we have managed to save several from the wild roses and climbing vines and they have rewarded our efforts with more blossoms. Doesn't this tree photo make you want to grab a book and sit on the grass in the shade and read?

Hubby also had to purchase a cherry tree this spring. We will probably not see one single red orb from this little tree. My guess is that the birds will divest us of any cherries just the day or two before they are completely ripe.


My final note is on the families of birds that share our yard. The blue bird house now has five eggs inside. She may lay more, be we cannot chance opening the wall again to look inside. The chickadee house above is still being leased although I do question her neatness! ( I am sure it says somewhere in the lease that you cannot hang things from the front door!)

Party of the Giants

There is something very magical with overtones of the miracle of life when watching the late afternoon sun bounce off the water and bathe the trunks of trees in a golden firelight. No painter or photographer can truly capture this beauty. It is as if these giants dressed in golden glow are heading out for a party of monstrous elegance to which mortals such as I can only imagine.

Beech Tree Leaves

While some people are now thinking about lying on a sandy beach in the warm sun, I looked up at these paper thin, golden, beech leaves crackling like a fire in the wind yesterday and I felt very warm.

Early Winter Blossoms

This is the Kaffir lime tree blossom. I have quite a few on this little tree and may have to remove some of the limes so that others can get bigger. You will have to go to my other blog in a few days to see why I think these limes are so wonderful, to say nothing of cooking with the leaves. The blossom itself, interestingly enough, is not nearly as fragrant at the Calamondin blossoms.

Discovering Gold

The early anticipation of a colorful fall sent me to the plant nursery yesterday. I returned with two pots of gold and one pot of purple mist. The photo above is a sugar maple. I have always wanted to buy and plant this tree but never had either the money or the yard space at the same time. I now will fulfill this wish. The peach-red colored leaves in the fall are such heart warming bursts of light that one cannot pass by such a tree without drinking in the honeyed picture.

I (we) also purchased a persimmon tree. (Photo above keeps loading sideways in Blogger! Thanks, annie, the .png format seems to do the trick!) Sometime a while back on one of my blog posts I talked about a hike that hubby and I took where we came upon golden globes of fruit lying in the fall leaves. Like migrating Indians we descended upon the most perfect orbs and ate our fill of persimmon fruit. This tree is indigenous to the area, named by the Algonquian Indians and a relative of the ebony family. In late September and early October the leaves turn yellow to match the fruit. This tree that we purchased produces SEEDLESS fruit which is just like finding gold that you don't have to mine! We will just have to see if the squirrels like it as much as we do.

I also bought a purple smoke tree and anticipate enjoying its misty beauty of pink and purple fuzz late next summer. We got a 20% discount if we bought three trees...I guess they saw us coming!

Ms. Manners vs. Pachamama

Pachamama, the passionate one, has been very restless this past week. For two nights, she threw her hair around in grand sweeps and tore the leaves and branches from her shoulders scattering debris across the lawn making it look as though a love-war had happened during the night. A small dead tree was tossed across the driveway and another large branch across the path to the dock. It was almost as if she had sent a message that she did not want me to leave the house. I was able to move the small tree to the side, but the branch across the path to the dock is too precarious for me to try on my own as two other smaller branches cross it high above.

On the third night of this dance, the full moon emerged to bring Pachamama some peace but to test my patience. The moon light cast its pearl beam directly across my bed at 3:30 and has done so each night since then waking me up each time. It is too bright to sleep and since I have not yet sewn draperies for the bedroom, I must allow the moon her mischief and be patient.

Two nights ago just before the moon passed beneath the branch of a tree to beam gaily through the window once again, I was awakened by some rhythmic sound above my head. I could not make it out in my sleepy fog but it sounded like large drops of water hitting the ceiling above my bed. But it was not rain. There was no rain falling. The pattern was soft and rhythmic. One, two, three, four across the tray ceiling above my head and then it repeated but in the opposite direction. I realized that it was the padded pacing of some animal. Something was in the attic. It sounded too large and slow for a squirrel and although I pictured a bobcat due to the padded footfall, I knew it was not that. I am guessing it is a raccoon. I heard it for two nights, but last night it was quieter. Maybe it is some mystical beast that was thrown out of sphere by Pachamama!

Today I had to call the rodent removal people. I am too practical and too scared to let it set up housekeeping in the attic.

What is Pachamama trying to tell me? Is my footprint too large? I guess I will try to be more polite.

Nature's Bouquet

These beautiful branches fell to the roadside during the recent heavy rains and winds. The water crept above the dock and kissed the bottom of the boat. Rains and wind continued for over 48 hours, but left behind this lovely bouquet for my dining room table. Tulip tree flowers are not something I would normally be able to 'pick.' I feel very lucky to have such a lovely bouquet before my company arrives tomorrow.

Shed Your Inhibitions

Tulip Tree -- Yellow Poplar -- Liriodendron tulipifera tepals

Some people have cats or dogs or even birds that seem to shed throughout the house. I have a forest that sheds throughout the yard and deck.