Red Leaf and Helenium (Sneezeweed)

Took an early walk today and enjoyed the long morning shadows and wind in my hair. Tuesday's silence had disappeared. Instead, I heard traffic from Pine Street (we live at least 2 miles away from Pine St.) a lawn mower, a dog barking across the river, as well as the dog's owner yelling, "Shut UP!" It's amazing how noisy some days are! Along the way I found half of a bird egg, a tiny puffball that poofed its brown smoke when I poked it, and the seed pods of a sensitive brier. Fyi: if you ever see a seedpod on a sensitive brier vine, do not touch it or you'll get a handful of invisible splinters. They are so tiny it's hard to get them out. I had about ten in my hand even though I was very careful when I picked it to draw, and then dropped it immediately.

While I was picking prickles from my hand, I noticed the beautiful crimson leaf on the ground. A much safer choice for today's journal entry. I though the red contrasted nicely with the yellow of the Sneezeweed (Helenium).

Bloodroot

As you can see, this journal entry is from last week, about the time I had an article due. After I took the time to sit outside and draw, I had to come in and focus on work instead of pleasure.

For the record, the week before that I was staying in a cabin on the Suwannee River, taking day hikes in some of North Florida's State Parks, and paddling the Ichetucknee River. I took my journal to Florida, but I didn't have free time to work in it.

The flowers above are the five-inch-high blooms of bloodroot plants. These and hundreds of others grow in the front woods of Middlewood on either side of the drive. It is a glorious sight when you first spot them blooming for it means Spring has truly come. They don't look like this now. As the bloom fades and petals fall, the leaves grow ever larger and hide the oblong see capsule. The leaves will last through mid-summer, basking in the filtered sun under high hardwoods, and storing up energy for next spring's show. The patch of Bloodroot was one of many surprises our hillside had in store for us when we bought the land. Twenty years later it's still possible to find new goodies I haven't seen before.