White Wood Aster

It was already 77 degrees and humid when we headed out, at 9 a.m. High pitched crickets buzzed in the trees, still dripping from rain in the night, and invisible spider webs were strung across the path. I think my friend missed the webs, but I managed to get some of the sticky strands across my face and in my hair. If you've ever done this, you know how I felt. Even thought I brushed and wiped and rubbed my face and shoulders, it never felt like they were truly gone. I imagined the tiny spider on my back. On my neck. In my hair. The only way to deal with this is to STOP thinking about it. Walk on and focus on what's ahead... of course you should also find a nice forked stick to wave in front of you to remove other invisible webs! Once on the open field of the pipeline and its well worn path, there were no more worries of spider webs.

We hiked down to Meetinghouse Creek, up the hill and into the far woods, around the high, rocky ridge that runs along the river. Daisy and her beautiful canine visitor, Olive, raced ahead as I pointed out to Kaye interesting rocks, mushrooms, and box turtles, as well as some of my favorite moss mounds and wildflower patches. One particular patch was Elephants Foot (Elephantopus sp. - sometimes know as Devil's Grandmother), in full bloom in the light shade of high pines.

At the river's edge Daisy and Olive headed for the water while Kaye and I settled down to draw. I found these delicate White Wood Asters that were just beginning to bloom. I thought it strange that the leaf bases on one plant (left) were so varied. It's not like I didn't see things correctly. I always notice weird details, so who knows what was going on with that plant. All the leaves on the other one (right) had typical heart-shaped leaf bases and the arrow shape.

As we were leaving we noticed the itty bitty white mushrooms. They were everywhere - the more we looked, the more we saw all through the woods, up the hill, down the bank, thousands of mushrooms. Kaye found a twig with one tiny mushroom and two that were pin-head sized. Mushrooms are amazing in many ways. Go here to hear a mycologist discuss the possibility of these beautiful fungi saving the world!

Hieracium (maybe) and an Arrowhead

Fog and cool temps made this morning a wonderful time for me and Daisy to hike to the river. We headed down the hill into a stiff, damp breeze that felt delicious after all the hot, dry weather we've had lately. Along the edge of the pipeline were long flowering mounds of Butterfly Pea vines crawling over grass and fallen logs, and swaying plumes of goldenrod. Yesterday's rain was puddled in the clay at the bottom of the hill near Meetinghouse Creek. Here were the blooms of Meadowbeauty, Joe Pye Weed, False Dandelion, Seed Box, Heal All, Monkey Flower, and Sensitive Brier.

After the Creek we headed into the woods by way of a newly rough-cut road that winds its way down to Lawson's Fork. No trucks or four-wheelers had driven here lately, so the grass at the opening has grown pretty tall. Once through, the path has a pleasant neglected look, but is clear for a good run for Daisy, and for finding an arrowhead for me! I always pick up pieces of milky quartz, just in case, and a couple years ago I found a beautiful point out on the pipeline in a place I'd been walking for 18 years. You never know when one will finally wash out of the dirt and sit waiting for you to walk by. The one I found today is not as finely worked as the last one, but it's whole!

Further down the road I saw the lovely combination of the delicate drooping leaves of one of the Hieraciums (I think) and the small red mushroom. I could hear the shoals on Lawson's Fork from there, as well as a Carolina Wren, a Pileated Woodpecker, and an Indigo Bunting. The high trill of crickets was background noise. I sat to draw in my journal while Daisy explored the woods around me. She finally came to sleep right in front of me. So sweet! I even used her as a table until a fly buzzed by and she leapt to her feet to snap at it. Yikes! Guess that wasn't a good idea after all.

On to the river! The water was high and very muddy, rushing around Helen and Susan Islands. Mushrooms were everywhere - tall and stately, tiny and button-like, and many in-betweens. Fringed Gentian was blooming along the edge of the low bluff over the river, and Christmas Ferns carpeted the rising slope behind us.

Heading back I made a list of all the flowers I saw in bloom. The fog was heavier, and beads of moisture covered the grasses and leaves all over the pipeline.

Fringed Gentian

Butterfly Pea

Spurred Butterfly Pea

Elephant's Foot

Goldenrod

Sensitive Briar

Boneset

Meadow Beauty

Daisy Fleabane

Joe Pye Weed

False Dandelion

Seedbox

Heal All

Monkey Flower

Queen Ann's Lace

Buttonweed

Flowering Spurge

Dwarf Pale Lobelia

Wild Potato Vine

Grassleaf Golden Aster

Whorled Coreopsis

Cranesbill Geranium, Christmas Fern

This post was created Saturday in the front yard of Apple Tree Cottage, in the delightfully cool mountains of North Carolina. A strong, clean breeze blew from the west and played harmonies in the windchimes hanging below the porch roof. I was sitting in my vintage garden chair gazing at this scene in the fern garden. The garden is all that's left after the huge apple tree had to be cut down two years ago. We hated doing it, but the old tree that dated back to one of NC's first apple orchards here on the hill, was nothing but a fat trunk with one live branch sticking out at an awkward angle to rest on the cabin's tin roof. Ivy, planted years ago, had crept up the trunk and across the branch. This branch still dropped withered fruit occasionally, but the main trunk was mostly dead. It leaned a little more each time we visited.

After the tree was hauled off we added more Christmas Ferns to the circle, enhanced the border with more rocks, and planted other flowers as the summers passed. Now the mostly shaded garden is also home to Forget me nots, impatiens, a lovely woods aster that volunteered, Wild Basil, and Cranesbill Geraniums. (The ivy is slowly being removed.) And off to one side of the garden, bravely growing from some old forgotten chunk of rootstock, is a foot-tall sprout of the apple tree for which our cottage was named.

While I drew in my journal Towhees sang from the trees, a crow cawed from a very near branch. Cicadas started buzzing, and two Tiger Swallowtails fluttered lazily around in the sun. Ben pulled out a can of barn-red paint to touch up the front railing near the old sign (it came with the cabin when my parents bought it 35 years ago) that spells out the cabin's name, Apple Tree Cottage. Other than this nothing much happened all afternoon.

Creeping Cedar, or Running Cedar (Lycopodium digitatum)

A front came through yesterday, bringing with it breezes, cooler mornings, and milder afternoon temps. Today it feels like fall, not mid-summer. Daisy and I headed out for a walk at around 10:00 a.m. I meant to make up for being out of town so long and give her a long walk, but instead got waylaid at Meetinghouse Creek admiring the Meadow Beauty that grows low and close to the water. I sat down and tried to begin a drawing when the breeze stopped. A thousand gnats came out to visit. Daisy, who had settled on the hill above me, still had a breeze riffling through her long coat. Hmmm....I thought. Something wrong here. After repacking my bag I grabbed my sit-upon and headed to a higher elevation, along the cool and shady side of the pipeline where I'd noticed the Creeping Cedar "running" under a patch of pines. The breeze was strong, so there were no bugs. I sat.

Crickets buzzed in the treetops, many birds, including my favorites, the Yellow-billed Cuckoo and Mourning Dove, chirped and sang. The only excitement came when Daisy took off running straight uphill after hearing a white tailed deer "coughing" in the woods to announce a danger we couldn't see. She was soon back and tired out enough to take a nap at my side.

It was great to be outside again.

Clematis viorna, False Dandelion

You will notice that this is a journal entry from mid June - proof that I have at least been trying to squeeze journaling time into my days. The fact that I am only now posting it (on July 2) is proof that I've had some trouble doing it regularly. Please, enjoy this entry, and then check back soon for today's post!

..

Horse Nettle (Solanum carolinense), Saw Greenbrier (Smilax bona-nox), and more

A damp breeze from the east kept me cool this morning as I headed straight into it on the way down the pipeline. Heavy clouds swung past overhead with occasional thinning to show brighter splotches of white instead of gray, and occasional spits of rain forced me to hide my journal under the sweatshirt I carried. I also had my pack, binoculars to scare the birds away (that's what seems to happen when I remember to take them - no birds), and my rolled up sit-upon cut from an old yoga mat (handy, comfortable, lightweight). Daisy bounced along beside me. Butterflies wobbled past as they flew west with the damp wind - Great Spangled Fritillaries, Spring Azures, a Silver Spotted Skipper, and a Checkerspot - and here and there a cricket buzzed in the trees. Tracks showed deep and clear in the rainwet red clay, displaying the various sized deer that roam around Middlewood in the night. Fox scat and some unknown scat proved that other critters roam, as well.

From trees all around, Indigo Buntings were singing their hearts out. Thank goodness for my binoculars! Since Indigo Buntings like to sit on top of dead wood, it was easy to guess where to find one of the beautiful songsters - he was perched on the highest limb of a dead pine tree that fell onto the pipeline during winter. I was very close to this indigo bunting. His song was beautiful! (listen)

When we came to a section of the trail filled with Pasture Roses, I stopped and closed my eyes and let the scent waft over me. Oh, so rich and sweet! The soft pink petals held drops of rainwater that glistened, even under gray skies. Last Friday I saw the season's first few roses blooming and had cut two for the tiny bouquet I put in my guest room for my brother-in-law's visit. Just two had been enough to scent the room, and today there is a whole field of them! You can imagine it smelled divine. Think of standing in a Cotswold rose garden in mid-June...

There's more! Coreopsis are still blooming, and Daisy Fleabane, Spotted Cat's Ear, Butterfly Weed, and Green and Gold. Just opened: New Jersey Tea, tiny Flowering Spurge, distinctive round pink flowers of Sensitive Brier, and white Wild Quinine.

At the base of many plants were the tell-tale sign of Spittlebug nymphs... white frothy "spit" that they cover themselves with for protection. The nymphs hide in the spittle while sucking plant juices. Sound gross? It looks kind of gross too. Adult spittlebugs look like and hop around like tiny leaf hoppers.

After moving twice to get away from gnats, my drawing location today was chosen specifically to stay in the wind, which kept the gnats at bay. Once settled on top of the far hill on a fairly clear spot, I drew what was around me (and that which stayed un-mashed by curious Daisy). The clouds spit on me occasionally, but no serious rain fell.

I know I have forgotten to write about everything, so here's the list I made of flowers I saw while hiking:

New Jersey Tea

Wild Quinine

Flowering Spurge

Spotted Cat's Ear

Sensitive Brier

Self Heal

Daisy Fleabane (white and purple)

Coreopsis

Horse Nettle

Green & Gold

Pasture Rose

Crown Beard

Milkweed about to open

Butterfly Weed

Carolina Cranesbill (Cranesbill caroliniana), Spotted Cat's Ear (Hypochoeris radicata), Venus' Looking Glass (Triodanis perfoliata)

We had a great walk this morning! A fresh breeze left over from yesterday's storms blew in from the west and made the shady side of the pipeline feel cool. One step into the sun and I felt hot, and just right for butterflies. Silver-spotted Skippers, Tiger Swallowtails, Azures, and a Great Spangled Fritillary fluttered around me as we headed down hill. Lots of plants are flowering now, including Pasture Rose, Coreopsis, Honeysuckle, Crimson Clover (left by the pipeline workers), Ragwort, as well as others. The bright red leaves of the Carolina Cranesbill attracted my attention and at closer inspection, its seeds fascinated me, so I sat to draw in a patch of thick, glossy grass. The blades towered over my head once I settled, so that my view of the world reminded me of what it would be like to be a deer, curled up for the night in a similar nest. Birds sang in the trees around me - most exciting was a Yellow-billed Cuckoo's distinctive call - Ku-ku-ku-ku-ku-ku-ku-ku KALP KALP KALP!

The Venus' Looking Glass and Spotted Cat's Ears (both non-natives) were growing near the native Cranesbill, so I drew them too. The VLG had been nibbled and was missing its usual top spire.

Wild Licorice (Galium circaezans) and Bulbous Buttercup (Ranunculus bulbosus)

A quick post from a cool spring day. While I was out in the chilly overcast day, the breeze made it difficult to remember (or believe) that today is the 11th of May. Brrr...

The center plant (above) is growing in our dry, rich woods close to the Galium - Wild Licorice (one of the Bedstraws) and also near Solomon's Seal and False Solomon's Seal. I don't know its name but plan to keep an eye on it to see when it blooms - the easiest way to identify a plant.

My busy days will be over after this week, and I'll be back in my world... check back soon!

Fringe Tree (Chionanthus virginicus)

Springtime is truly here when the Fringe Trees bloom in our back woods. The delicate flowers are hard to see, but I can smell the fragrant blooms from all over the back woods, and on a breezy day like today, their sweetness can waft all the way out to the pipeline. Also blooming in the woods are the dozen or so Catesby's Trillium that I have protected, babied, fretted over, read about, as well as painted, drawn, and bragged about for the last 20 years. Their pink, nodding blooms are so beautiful.

Today there were many other flowers in bloom, as well: Soloman's Seal, Dewberry, Lyre-leaf Sage, Wood Sorrel, as well as Spotted Cat's Ear, Hawkweed, and Dwarf Cinquefoil. Wild Strawberries (white with yellow center) were blooming along with Indian Strawberries (yellow) and the tiny Carolina Cranesbill. I made a mental note of them as the dogs and I hiked in the cool breeze. Near Meetinghouse Creek grew Violets (Common Blue) and a variety of ferns unfurling into the sun. Several spots of bright red in the creek caught my eye. Upon inspection I found them to be Cross Vine blossoms that had fallen upstream from. The more I looked, the more red and yellow flowers I found drifting down the creek, catching on rocks and reeds, or swirling around in small eddies. Daisy noticed that I was interested and ran to check them out too, stepping on some, snapping at others, getting right in front of me so I couldn't see the water at all. Sigh.... some day I might have to leave Miss Daisy at home.

When I finally sat to draw a tiny, half-inch long Praying Mantis hopped onto my journal page. I removed him with care and started in on my branch of fringe tree. When the breeze slacked off, biting gnats appeared from nowhere. I had to swat at them awhile until luckily, clouds moved in along with an even stronger wind that blew the gnats back to where they came from. Daisy and Radu wandered back and settled down beside me. I wondered if they could appreciate the amazing fragrance of the Fringe Tree beside them. I know I did.

Amsonia - Blue Star

A small patch of twenty or so Blue Star plants grow in the shade of pines near Meetinghouse Creek. Some years I miss their blooming completely by walking a different way - we have many options - or by walking right past them while thinking about something else. Earlier this week I looked and I saw that they were about to open. So, late this afternoon I took a hike to draw the flowers. They were in full bloom!

I sat before the plant above and pulled out my journal and pens. The weather was perfect- cool, breezy, with no bugs. Crickets chirped in nearby trees; in the distance Mourning Doves cooed their sad song. Otherwise the world around me was quiet. The sky above was clear, smooth blue. Thanks (or no thanks) to the Iceland volcano, Eyjafjallajokull, there were no white contrail stripes or sunlit silver wings zooming to or from Paris and London. It felt strange. We haven't seen empty skies like this since after 9-11. Daisy and Radu came to settle beside me.

After a peaceful drawing session the dogs and I headed back home. I poured a glass of wine so that Ben and I could walk out to our bench to watch the sun go down - good exercise for the two dogs and four cats who accompany us.

What a glorious day.

Mossy Riverbank

Today I spent a couple hours drawing on the mossy bank of Lawson's Fork. By the time Radu, Daisy and I hiked there, it was the middle of the day. The sun, bright and strong, made all the new spring leaves shimmer as they danced in a strong breeze. I'd felt warm when I sat for a while in full sun, out of the wind. Beside the river though, there was only dappled sun and the open water allowed the wind to pick up speed, so it was definitely cool enough for the sweatshirt I had on. While I worked, the dogs ran, jumped and splashed in the water and nosed around Susan and Helen Islands. Beetles and spiders came to visit, and a Tufted Titmouse sang Chiva! Chiva! from a blooming dogwood tree. One spider (above) looked like a miniature Daddy Longlegs - is there such a thing? I haven't been able to identify the brown and black beetle. Zebra Swallowtails fluttered throughout the woods - I counted five - as well as Spring Azures, Sootywings, and an unidentified orange/brown butterfly.

Hundreds of Violets, sedges, and grasses grow in mounds of moss along this stretch of the river. I followed a well-used wildlife trail through them to the very edge of the river, where I could touch the water if I wanted. Just downstream the arching branches of Dog Hobble were in bloom, and a few Rue Anemone still held delicate white flowers. Other plants sprouting beside the river, but not in bloom: Euonymus, Virginia Creeper, Goldenrod, Poison Oak, Christmas Fern (unfurling), Japanese Honeysuckle, Ginger, Trillium, Solomon's Seal, and Maple Leaf Viburnum.

Carolina Jessamine

The dogs and I headed out on a hike midmorning, and while the sun was hot at times, the wind felt quite chilly when I sat in the shade to draw. I was very glad to have brought a sweat shirt along. Lots of butterflies fluttered about. I saw a Tiger Swallowtail, a Zebra Swallowtail, Spring Azures, Checkerspots, Duskywings and a Mourning Cloak. The Blue Jays and Crows were so noisy it was hard to detect other birdsongs. JAY! JAY! JAY! CAW! CAW! Two crows talked back and forth to each other for the longest time, with a sound that was nothing like a caw. Crows are amazing and very intelligent birds. They can imitate not only other birds, but also certain elements of human speech. Some of their vocalizations sound weird.

I was sitting at the edge of the woods, in the shade of pines. The field in front of me was in full, hot sun and hosted many buzzy locusts, probably Carolina Locusts. I often see their black wings with yellow border when they leap away from me as I walk through the grass. Today their rhythmic buzzes reminded me of summer, which is almost here.

Nearby, a clump of Carolina Jessamine grew intertwined with brambles. I couldn't get close enough to draw those beautiful blooms, but at one side of the clump, a branch of the Jessamine with two yellow flowers stuck out one side of the thorny brambles. Those would do! As I drew in my journal, Daisy and Radu, who had been cavorting about and chasing unseen but suspected wildlife, settled down for long naps on either side of me. Ahhh... Faithful dogs, wind in the pines, refreshing breeze, warm sun, noisy crows, buzzy locusts... oh, and did I mention Nekot Crackers for a snack? All in all a delightful morning!

Yellowroot

When I walked my dogs last Thursday I noticed the Yellowroot blooming down by Meetinghouse Creek. The small plants' woody stems (the one above is 12" long) hang out over the water, each topped with a burst of spring-green leaves and racemes of tiny purple flowers. They are so subtle that many years I miss them completely. I sat down to draw one under heavy skies that threatened to rain at any moment. I'd even checked the radar before I left home, so I knew that time was short. But it was peaceful and cool, with rippling creek and occasional birdsong - so the time was sweet, especially after the record heat of the week before.

Rue Anemone, Round-lobed Hepatica, Violet, Fern Fiddles

Today was not as hot as the past two days, thank goodness. Yesterday, it was sunny and 87 degrees, with no breeze. That kind of heat is a little much this early in the spring. Luckily, high clouds throughout the morning today kept it cool. The breeze was delightful.

I was up and out earlier than usual today to dig up the last of the give-away perennials for some friends. The phlox and siberian iris I'd dug out of the garden yesterday and they waited in a plastic tub, but I could not for the life of me remember the third plant I'd promised. In the middle of the night it came to me - Ginger Lilies! So early this morning I went out and dug up tubers and tossed them into a grocery bag, then did some other garden chores while I waited.

My friends were right on time. After we'd visited a while, and their car disappeared around the big curve in the driveway, I called to the dogs and said the magic words: Wanna take a walk? Oh, the frenzy, the hysteria! Leaping, running, wiggling and whining, Daisy and Radu were definitely ready for a walk!

We headed towards Lawson's Fork to look for spring ephemerals. I had a feeling I would find something good, and, I did! Rue Anemone grows all along the shore, the delicate white blooms easy to see against the brown leaf litter. I settled near a small patch and started drawing. As I drew, I had to fend off the dogs when they returned to me to make sure I was still there. It is amazing how they will come and sit on the one thing in the forest I wish they would NOT sit on. The tree-tops along the river were a lime-green haze. Low-growing young oaks, some just one to two feet high, had fuzzy red leaves at the tips of their branches that were as beautiful as the wildflowers. At the base of a huge red oak was a round-lobed hepatica, the bloom reaching for the sun, the leaves drooping down the steep slope. Christmas Fern grows everywhere along the river, and at this time of year the new leaves are uncurling into fuzzy and graceful fiddleheads. I found a short bunch that would fit on my paper, and drew in the journal until Daisy went into her manic mode and started running as fast as she could in a big circle that passed right in front of me, and right over my fern fiddles. Geeze. I quickly packed up and moved on before she tore up the whole hillside.

Next, the dogs went swimming in Lawson's Fork. As I watched them, I noticed that the lowest edge of the riverbank is covered with mounds of bright-green moss, slender grasses, and wildflowers. The only ones blooming today were the Blue Violet and Bluets, but I saw other plants with promise and made a mental note to come back to see the blooms of Foam Flower, Pipsissewa, Partridgeberry, and Rattlesnake Plantain.

By the time we hiked back up the steep hill it wasn't cool anymore. My long sleeves were hot, so I pushed them up, readjusted my backpack, and trudged on. Radu and Daisy ran slower now, except when they spotted a turkey hen and took off like a shot. "Stop harassing the wildlife," I called to them and pulled out the treats I'd brought. By this time the turkey had flown into a tree."Daisy, COME!" I called. Daisy heard me and ran to me. Radu wants to be like her, so he came too. They each got a treat, then the three of us finished the uphill trek to our bench. I sat for several minutes so we could all catch our breath, then we followed the Middlewood trail back to the house.

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.

Heartleaf, Round-lobed Hepatica, Cicada Exoskeleton

Oh, what a day! Strong sun in a blue, blue sky, warm air with a cool breeze. The dogs and I hiked along Meetinghouse Creek, through the huge patch of creeping cedar, until it gets squeezed between two rocky bluffs. Here the creek looks like it's in the mountains as it tumbles over and between mossy rocks into small, silent pools. It's a special spot.

I found this (above) and other small groups of Heartleaf on the south-facing bluff, and started hunting for one with a flower. I searched quite a few before finding this one, and it wasn't even open yet. I decided it would have to do. The spot where I settled, on a natural flat stone, was so steep around me that when Daisy ran to me for a treat, and I told her to sit, she had difficulty doing it and then she began to sliiide downhill. She stood, repositioned herself, and sat for another treat only to slowly sliiide back down. Radu was smarter. He refused to sit and gave me the Radu stink-eye, which means you're crazy if you think I'm gonna sit. He has his moods, you know, and they have been more pronounced since Daisy's arrival last year.

After drawing the Heartleaf, I crossed the creek and did an all-out search for the Round-lobed Hepaticas. I've found them here before in early spring but I couldn't remember exactly where. I only knew they were on this extremely steep, difficult to scale, north-facing hill. Radu and Daisy didn't find it difficult, but I was holding onto small trees, almost crawling around on all fours trying to find the flower. I found the first one in deep shade at the base of a huge Red Oak. The leaves were very distinctive and obvious, but I had to get close to notice the one small flower bud. I drew the plant and bud, then I headed back onto the slope to try to find a fully opened flower. The second plant found was in the sun, and the flower was so bright there was no way anyone could miss it - except that the hill is so steep, I can't imagine that any other person has climbed around to see the tiny spring ephemeral.

Radu, Daisy and I finally returned home after a two hour outing. The panting dogs settled in the shade of a large azalea by the back door. I'm sending this out to you, and then plan to head back outside. Oh, what a day!

The Sunshine Award

Laurie Edwards, a friend I made at a writers' conference who is also an artist and a blogger, just gave my blog the Sunshine Award! Her note said:

I'm loving your blog. It brings me joy to see your nature sketches. Gotta get myself out and about and doing the same. Anyway, I've gotten such pleasure from your sketches, I added your blog to my list for a Sunshine Award. Laurie's blog can be found here. I will pass along this award to 12 of my favorite blogs... I will post them as soon as I can.

Thank you, Laurie! Please let me know when you begin nature journaling. :-)

Purple Dead Nettle, Wild Onion, & Hairy Bittercress

Another blue-skied spring day. The high was around 60 in the sun, and it was clear when I headed out, but it wasn't long before the breeze kicked up and fat white clouds floated over and blocked the sun, which made the temperature drop considerably. Then the clouds would move on and the sun instantly warmed everything back up. It was an amazing contrast in comfort. I went from hot to almost cold and back again, over and over. Daisy, Radu and I hiked down to the far rocky ridge over Lawson's Fork, then followed it back so I could search the steep, north-facing hill to see if any of the spring ephemerals were in bloom. They're not.

Back at our hill I settled in the sun to draw the Purple Dead Nettle and Hairy Bittercress that is blooming around our bench. Oops! I'd forgotten to put my journal back into my pack. I headed back to the house, retrieved it from the kitchen, and headed out to the garden to draw. We have plenty of Purple Dead Nettle and Hairy Bittercress also growing in the yard and along the brick garden path so there was no need to hike back out to the pipeline.

The clouds and sun continued their dance and birds fluttered around the feeders very close behind me. Mourning Doves cooed in the trees. A soft YANK! YANK! YANK! continued the whole time I was drawing, telling me that a White-breasted Nuthatch worked a tree nearby.

By the time I finished drawing, clouds had completely covered the sun and blue sky.

Lenten Rose, Daffodil, Winter Jasmine, Oakleaf Hydrangea buds

Today started out mild and damp from yesterday's weather, but it did not actually rain until I got serious about drawing in my journal. For a while I wandered around on the pipeline in the bright (though cloudy) afternoon, with a warm breeze in my face. The dogs ran in circles around me and some gnats hovered around my head for a bit on top of the Kudzu hill. I considered walking the whole pipeline, and was curious about a very loud Crow Event down in the valley near Meetinghouse Creek - Was it Owl or Hawk? - but since I've been sick for over a week I thought about it more than usual and finally decided I didn't have the energy to make it back up the steep hill. So Radu, Daisy and I headed back to the house. I was in the mood to draw something Springy, and the only colorful flowers so far are in my garden.

The moment I sat down and pulled my journal from my backpack, I felt little spitting droplets on my hands and face. I looked up and saw that darker, lower clouds had moved in, looked down and saw the drops land on the black cover of my journal. Oh well. I dashed around the yard and picked a few springtime goodies - the budding branches of one of our big Oakleaf Hydrangeas, one daffodil bud, a Winter Jasmine branch, and a stem of Lenten Rose, and took them inside to draw. I left the doors open so I could hear the birds singing their hearts out. They obviously love this mild day as much as I do. The male Goldfinch are all splotchy with their emerging bright-yellow breeding plumage. The male cardinals glowed in the dreary afternoon. A tree frog croaked from the tree above my car.

Fast forward two hours: As I write, a thunderstorm has moved over Middlewood. The first distant rumble brought the dogs rushing in from the side porch. They are now sound asleep at my feet and the house is completely quiet except for the rain. It is still 60 degrees, and so very peaceful!