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!

American Holly (Ilex americana)

Yesterday, a sunny and cool Sunday afternoon, I wandered down to the woods near Lawson's Fork where it runs under the old iron bridge on what used to be Old Thompson Road. No longer a road, it alternates between a red clay gully, a flat walkable path, and a barely discernible rut through young trees. Goldfinch, Chickadees and Titmice sang in the trees nearby, and crows called to each other in the distance beyond the river. Radu had disappeared on his usual adventure. Daisy was beside me, as well as Cookie, our skinny little calico cat who, at 12 years old, still enjoys hiking with us.

I had only two hours to draw because we were going to see the matinee showing of Avatar, so my goal was to find something simple to draw. Naturally, it wasn't long before my eye fell on a beautiful, old American Holly tree whose thick, gray trunk was knobbed, wrinkled, and rich with mosses and lichen. This is not simple, I thought. I inspected it closely. Not simple. Oh well, what could I do? I wanted to draw that tree.

I settled in the leaves at a distance so I could see the leaf canopy, but then realized the beauty of the trunk was lost at a distance. When I moved closer I realized that I would not be able to include both the trunk details and the canopy. A choice had to be made. Well, not really. It was the trunk that first attracted me anyway. Once I sat, the canopy was so far above my head I had to lean back to see it. Settling was complicated by Daisy, who drooled on my knee as she sat in front of me, hoping for a treat, as well as by Cookie, who made it clear she would like the drawing part better if I'd let her sit in my lap, on top of the journal. This is the usual pattern of things, so I dealt with my pets (got them interested in things other than me) and then went to work sketching the trunk.

Getting to this point had taken thirty minutes or more, but I finally relaxed and did my best to get lost in the tree for the time I had left. Birds continued to sing nearby. Various woodpeckers chirred and pecked in some of the old dead pines that had been killed by the pine beetle yet are still standing. The crow calls had become lazy - or at least not as insistent as they'd been earlier. Breezes stirred the tree tops and squirrels rattled the leaf litter in the distance - but no human-made sounds were heard while I was drawing.

Sun Bleached Deer Bones

Today was the day I've been waiting for! Temps in the mid-60's, completely sunny, and not one puffy cloud to block the sun. On the way home from the grocery store, earlier, I heard Spring Peepers down in the swamp behind the Glendale Dam.

The dogs and I headed out at about 4:00 for a nice warm hike. We headed down to where Meetinghouse Creek crosses the lower pipeline. That was the last I saw of Radu, who has a habit of running off on his own personal (no Daisy) adventure. Daisy, as usual, stuck with me, and came to stand beside me as I squatted beside the rippling creek to inspect the rocks. Picked up many, but only kept a nice chunk of yellow feldspar. In the woods beside the creek I found an old, white turtle shell (without the outer "tortoiseshell" layer), and a cool "Old Bottle Greenhouse," that was full of the bright green growth of some tender plant that really liked the protected situation it found itself in. Also, in the creek was a beautiful leaf skeleton that I thought would make a nice journal drawing.

Then, as I crossed the middle pipeline, I noticed a pile of white bones on the upper side of the creek. I crossed over and climbed the hill to investigate, and saw that it was the skeletal remains of a young white tailed dear.It had probably been there a year or so. They were sun bleached and not complete. I saw various leg bones scattered nearby, and some obvious bones were missing (skull, other half of mandible, etc). I picked up various bones and found a place in the sun to draw.

Daisy settled next to me and went to sleep as I got to work drawing some of the bones. The only sounds I heard were some raucous crows, squawking about something important in Crow World, a distant four-wheeler, and finally, a Chickadee and Blue Jay calling out their names. Chick -a-dee-dee-dee! Chick-a-dee-dee-dee! JAY! JAY! JAY!

I headed back home as the sun dipped behind the pines along the pipeline. It was still warm and breezy. My sweet Daisy was right there with me.

Radu was on the side porch waiting for us when we trekked up the hill from the backyard.

It has been a beautiful day.

Mantis Case, Blue Curls, Thistle, Dodder

The afternoon was cold and breezy; white puffy clouds scooted across the blue sky. I was not surprised to see patches of snow down by Meetinghouse Creek, on a north-facing bluff, because our road also still has fat, dirty chunks of the stuff left from last Friday's event. It proves how cold it's been this week. I'm still waiting for that unseasonably warm day when you can smell the very earth warming, and hear spring peepers trilling. That would be delicious.... either that or a doozie of a snowstorm that drops twelve inches instead of four!

Anyway, cold or not, I grabbed my backpack and headed out to hike with Radu and Daisy. They did their thing - running, turning to look at me - running - turning - running... You get the picture. We headed east, with the sun to my back. My goal was to build up body heat first, then sit to draw with the sun in my face, for warmth.

The plan worked so well I got hot, and soon, I'd shed my scarf and coat and was luxuriating in the warmth of the afternoon sun. This is it, I thought. It feels like April!

I was sitting on the worn path, close to Meetinghouse Creek, and next to the thick tangle of briers, sumac, and goldenrod that grow thick in the damp soil. Also in there I noticed a small thistle seed head. I went in to retrieve it. What I found was that the main stem of the thistle was easily 10 feet tall but had fallen over, otherwise I would have seen it towering over the other growth. I snapped one seed head to take back to my seat. While I was in the jungle, I decided to snap the top of one of the many sumacs that had black dodder seed head vines spiraling up the main stem. This is the only place I've ever seen the dodder seed heads, and all of them are down very close to the water.

I found many praying mantis egg cases while hiking down the pipeline, so it was not surprise to spy this one in the thicket. The leftover bracts of the Blue Curls were so dainty and pale, I am surprised I noticed them at all.

Daisy and Radu sat close by my while I drew for about an hour, until with no warning, one of those nice, white fluffy clouds had the gall to scoot itself right over the sun. The temperature dropped dramatically, and the wind picked up. (I wonder if this is a normal weather phenomena, wind rising when a warm area is suddenly shaded like that) Brrr. It was definitely February again! I packed my stuff up, put my coat back on, and was on the way home within two minutes.

Cranefly Orchid, Euonymus, Spotted Wintergreen

This afternoon was chilly, but the sun shone; there was no mist, fog, or threatening rain; no slick red mud to slide in, and only a few puddles left from Friday's torrential downpours. I had no plans or responsibilities - no articles due, no book to read for class; a pot roast bubbled in the crock pot. Everything pointed to GO! so, I high-tailed it into the woods.

Daisy and Radu went into a frenzy! They whined and jumped, ran forward, then back again. Daisy jumped on Radu and chewed his ears, Radu twisted away, momentarily aggravated, but returned to me in time to have Daisy grab at his leg as if it were a chicken leg. She's done this before and actually hurt him, so I picked up my pace. If I get them moving fast they tend to forget about each other.

My goal was to find a nice quiet spot in the woods where there was something colorful to paint, but had in mind that this is early February - there are very few colorful things out in nature this time of year. By chance I found one. Some animal (probably a deer) had stepped on a leaf of a Cranefly Orchid and broken the stem. As I snuck through the tangled woods on the steep bluff over Meetinghouse Creek, I saw the leaf glowing purple amid the brown oak, beech, and maple leaves from fall. The back side of the single Cranefly Orchid leaf is always this stunning color, the front is beautiful in its way, always strongly ridged and rippled, but it comes in the expected color.... green.

I sat to draw and found other subtle wildflowers that grow in the same cool, north slope environment: Spotted wintergreen (with a seedpod), Euonymus (with its typical deer-chewed stems), and Partridgeberry vines (with no berries) crawling over a tuft of moss. Just as I started drawing the sun went behind clouds. It was very quiet. The only bird I heard was a talkative crow perched in the woods behind me. He made many of his weird, garbled conversational calls as well as his usual, loud CAW! CAW! The creek below rippled along its course.

Without the sun things got chillier. The wind picked up too. Brr.... but since this post is overdue I persevered and finished drawing the small plants growing on the hillside. Once I finished we continued the hike to the fence. But before we got to the end Radu showed up beside me carrying a rather large, icky leg bone of a deer. Eww...

That's when I turned and hightailed it back towards home.

Grass

So, to continue from the last post.... finally, today, I went out after class to draw (with the dogs) even though it was cold and very windy. I'd already walked the dogs, but naturally, as my sidekicks, they had to accompany me anyway. The problem with cold and windy is that sitting still for an hour or more (usually more) allows your body heat to completely disappear. It can become miserable very quickly... and when it's time to unfold your scrunched up body, and stand up straight again, it's downright painful.

Even so, It was such a beautiful afternoon I couldn't ignore it. I headed out to find a spot to sit in the sun. The sky was clear blue except for the beautiful narrow strips of white clouds zooming past. A waxing gibbous moon hung in the east, just above the tops of the pines. The broom straw grass glowed gold as it waved in the stiff wind.

I sat in the sun amidst a patch of broom straw and other grasses. This dry grass stem (above) with curled leaves was nearby, so I picked it to draw. After coming to me to beg for a little attention, and a possible ear scratch, Daisy and Radu settled down for a nap in the sun. I settled into drawing grass. Between strong gusts of wind I could hear birds chittering in the pines nearby. Then the wind would pick up again and all that could be heard was its roar.

An hour later my fingers were beginning to get numb, so I decided to wrap things up. I oh-so-slowly stretched out my cold legs... Yow! I gathered my journal and pens into my backpack, and headed home. The wind in my face was sooo cold! I leaned into the wind and watched each footstep until I got to my woods. Brr.... I was so glad to have on my long underwear, wool scarf, and coat with a hood to protect my ears.

Even though it was cold, being out in the sun and wind was totally worth it.

Tulip Poplar Seeds

Ok, Sorry for the delay. You will note that the date on this journal entry is last Tuesday's date. I think I neglected to mention that I'm deeply involved in a photography class at a local college. It's a January Term class, so we meet often and long. and have little time left for other activites. Add to that the cold wet weather we've been having this winter.... Ok, no more excuses. Here is last week's entry. I will post today's in just a moment! All the best to each of my readers! Thank you for your patience!

Chicken Feathers?

Today I took the dogs on a late afternoon hike. It was cold, although not as cold as it's been the last two weeks, and sunny - at least until I got out onto the pipeline. That's when a scattering of fat, gray clouds moved across the sun. They were beautiful, giving the afternoon sky a little dramatic "Godlight," but naturally, the clouds weakened considerably the warmth I expected from the afternoon sun. Brrr...

I decided to hike all the way to the far hilltop before I sat to draw so that I'd have some body heat built up. On the way down to the creek I passed the chicken feathers again, and hesitated, thinking perhaps I should draw them. But, no. I was in my exercise mode and did not break my stride to pick up the feathers. Across the creek I went, and up the steep, far hill. All the while the sun came and went. The dogs zoomed ahead, ran in and out of the woods, then dashed back to jump and lick and generally show me their happiness.

Finally I sat to draw. I pulled out my pens, my journal, and looked around. The first thing I saw on the ground beside me were two small chicken feathers. One was about three inches long, the other less than an inch. I had to laugh! It appeared that it was meant to be. I drew them where they sat, among unremarkable twigs, stems, and grass.

An hour and a half later the pale sun disappeared behind a line of pines at the crest of our hill. Chill air settled around me and made me shiver. I absolutely had to stop drawing and get moving again. Daisy and Radu seemed to feel the same way - they led the way home.

Sweet Shrub, Beautyberry, Appalachian Oak-Leach, and Oak Leaf Hydrangea

It is so cold this week! I'm not complaining, just stating a cold fact that makes it difficult to muster up the courage to go out and hike. Even if I do hike, it is impossible to sit still long enough to draw things and not get numb fingertips... brrr...

I headed out into the cold around three this afternoon with the dogs, wearing a scarf, hat, gloves, silk long-underwear, and carrying tissues in my coat pocket to deal with the So-cold-it-makes-your-nose-run Syndrome. As we emerged from the woods a stiff breeze from the NNW swooped over the pines and fluffed Daisy's long beautiful hair, and then blew down my neck. Again, brrr... I zipped my coat, wrapped the scarf one more time around so as to block the breeze from sneaking through, and headed down hill. Radu loped stoically along while Daisy leapt about in happiness and excitement. She really likes to jump on Radu when she's hyper, and to grab his poor old back leg as if it were a CHICKEN leg, or something similar. I try to put a stop to that immediately, to save Radu from leg damage (not to mention to save our bank account from vet bills!).

Just down the hill I came to a big patch of red clay with tiny towers of ice crystals rising from it in graceful arcs. They were a uniform 2-3 inches long, and topped with a cap of clay particles that resembled hats - berets, perhaps. This is a common site out here on frigid mornings following rainy days. It happens more on the top of the hills than downhill near the creek, where the water helps regulate the temperature. By this time (3:00) on a normal winter afternoon, the crystals are all melted. The current arctic blast, however, has allowed them to persist all day. We passed by many patches of ice as we headed to Meetinghouse Creek.

It was a quiet hike. No muffled traffic, no dogs, no planes going over... Occasionally I would accidentally step on a patch of ice and be surprised by the crunch of it. A crash in the woods never did give itself up - deer? fox? coyote? Who knows! By the creek I found a "crime scene" containing some golden down and wing feathers the exact shade of Radu's coat. I studied those feathers. What in the world kind of bird is this??? Think think. I wrapped the feathers in a kleenex and put them in my pocket.

Back at the top of our hill, we sat on the sunny bench long enough to start hearing birds. Chickadees, Titmice, Red-bellied Woodpecker, and the Ank! Ank! of the White Breasted Nuthatch. Soft zeet!s from the pines could have been Kinglets. It wasn't long before the cold started creeping into my body. Brrr again.

I hopped up. It had been a good, brisk walk. I was energized and excited about trying to identify my found feathers. As we headed into the house, though, my inner voice spoke low and insistent about my exciting find... I'd never seen a big (judged by feather size) golden bird the color of Radu.... had I? Bells were ringing. In my bird book perhaps? Hmm....oh, yes...in the book my sister gave me for Christmas... a book about...

chickens.

We have plenty of foxes and coyotes out here. One of them could easily have killed a neighbor's chicken and carried it along to the pipeline. Unlike Daisy, foxes and coyotes can have chicken legs whenever they want them.

Well? I asked myself. Do I draw the chicken feathers? Nah. Instead, as I walked back I collected seed pods and berries to take inside to draw.

Grasses

Here is a journal page from last week. I had time to hike, time to draw, but no time to actually post. It was a busy post-Christmas week! Enjoy the various grasses here, then look for my real entry for the day, which I will post soon. Thank you all for being patient!