Trees in Fruit

Kayaking Lake Craig (a fishing lake in our nearby state park) is one of the best of summer day activities.  Today, in particular, was special.  It was overcast and breezy and warm, apparently the perfect combination for every species of dragonfly and damselfly to come out and play, or work, as some were breeding and/or laying eggs just beneath the water surface.  Amberwings, White Tailed, Twelve Spots, Green Darners, Brown Spotted Yellowings, Bluets, Green Clearwings, and others that wouldn't stop long enough for us to see.  They zipped and buzzed around near the shore, entertaining us when they'd come close and sometimes land on our boats or paddles.  Some were dip dip dipping their ovipositors into the water to lay eggs, some seemed to be chasing others... Through binoculars we saw that they were skimming the water out as far as we could see.   

At the back end of the lake, near where Kelsey Creek comes in, there is an island covered in sedge, nettles, grasses, and the tall purple Monkey Flower.  Here we sat and watched more dragonflies and damselflies. Continuing up the creek, we were thrilled to hear the "witchity witchity" call of Common Yellowthroats as they called back and forth from one side of the creek to the other.  After much searching with binocs we found one in a small Riverbirch, his bright yellow throat and black mask obvious only once we found him, which took me some time. He doesn't move around much, and his olive back blends so well with the leafy canopy you can't see him from the back.  We also saw two Great Blue Herons, a Green Heron preening in a snag, two Red-Bellied Woodpeckers, and Indigo Buntings.  As we were floating quietly, taking it all in, an Eastern Kingbird flew out from a nearby bush and snapped up a dragonfly lunch just six feet above my head!  I heard it SNAP!  Whirligig Beetles twirled around us in the slow moving water.  

Trees of all kinds were in fruit around the lake.  We first found the Carolina Basswood dangling its green berries over the water from leafy bracts.  Then we paddled under the drooping branches of a Carolina Silverbell. The four-winged seed pods are quite distinctive, but we had no idea what they were!   Ironwood was easy, then came what turned out to be a huge Possumhaw Viburnum. The lower branches had fruit, but there were a few blooms on the upper branches to help us id it.  We thought it would be a Viburnum of some kind, but there are so many!  We broke branches of all to bring home for identifying and for me to draw. 

Several hours later thunder beyond the trees gave us a reason to turn and paddle back.  It's always hard to leave that beautiful place, but today we moved with record speed!

Blunt-leaved Milkweed Seedpod

Morning on the pipeline was overcast, cool (65ish deg?), and breezy-like-the-beach, the steady dampish breeze that makes you glad you wore a long-sleeved shirt.  Daisy and Radu dashed in circles, and then ahead while I stopped to button up. "Come on, Mom!" they said, in body language.  It was wonderful to be outside again, wandering the woods and fields around Middlewood. Birds were singing and crickets buzzing, the Carolina Locusts fluttered as they leapt out of my way.  I love seeing their black wings with wide pale yellow borders as they fly and land 8 or so feet away.  Their drab brown bodies disappear in the dry grass until you approach once more and zzzzzp!  Off they go again.

Flowers blooming this morning:  Man of the Earth, a vine in the morning glory family, with large white blooms with deep purple throats; the early goldenrod (rough-stemmed perhaps?), tiny yellow pencil flower, Woodland Sunflowers (that have held the same blooms for weeks now), Flowering Spurge, Joe Pye Weed, Whorled Coreopsis, remnants of Common Fleabane, down near the creek was Pale Indian Plantain, and near the edge of the woods: delicate white spiraled Slender Ladies' Tresses, a beautiful little orchid.

Buds: Boneset and it's twin (flower but not leaves!) Hyssop-leaved Boneset, the Joe Pyes that had been cropped by deer, and some asters.

I stopped to draw the milkweed plant and sat at the best angle for the seedpod, my back to the wind, which allowed gnats to find my face.  Otherwise, all went well until near the end when Daisy came to sit beside the plant.  She was so sweet, sitting there watching me.... then in a split second she leaned over and chomped at the seedpod!  DAISY, NO!  I called. She jumped away, but milky sap started running down the stem.  I hope it will be ok and the seed pod will continue to dry.  There is nothing in nature more beautiful than the split milkweed pod with it's delicate seeds bursting out.  I hope to draw it this year!

  

Four and a half Mushrooms

I'm back!  I thought it would be Wednesday, but I was asked to do a bit more, so it went a bit longer.   As soon as I delivered the stack of paintings on Friday I hightailed it to our tiny cottage outside of Waynesville for a needed rest.  This afternoon I wandered around our hilltop to see what has been happening up here since I was last here in early June.  The most obvious change is the size of the Jewelweed.  It has grown quite large, easily three feet high, if not more. The plants are full of their delicate yellow or orange flowers, each dangling from a leaf base. The blooms that I admired in early June are now gone to seed.  

The mushrooms (above) are growing on the steep hill very near our cabin.  They are a startling color, especially seen rising from the drab brownish gray leaf litter, and appear to be marching down the hill.  The second mushroom from the bottom is actually two stems (one much smaller than the other) whose caps grew together into one.  I believe they are Bolete mushrooms, but it is quite awkward to try to see under the caps in deep shade, and I can't bring myself to pull one up just for my passing scientific interest.   They have the Bolete look and sturdiness (I tried to lean one over enough to see underneath... but it wouldn't move) so I'm going to assume that's what they are.

One good thing about being here this weekend is that the Raspberries that grow all along the narrow dirt lanes are ripe!  They fall into your hand at the slightest touch and are so sweet!  So, now that I have posted this I am off to pick berries for tomorrow morning's oatmeal.  

Santolina

This is a quickie lunch post to thank everyone for visiting even when the posts were not actually from around Middlewood.   The illustration project should be over in the next couple days and I'll be back to my woodland rambles.   THANKS!

Pomegranate and Wild Campanula

Beside the farmhouse's eastern terrace grows a huge shrub that on one trip was covered with these strange looking flowers.  I had no idea what it was - assumed it was just an unknown "French" plant.  I have since realized that we obviously arrived early enough to see the very end of bloom time for this Pomegranate bush.  What I thought was a flower are the thick sepals, the petals having fallen off into the leaf litter below the terrace.  The fruits were already growing, but as you see, rather misshapen compared to pomegranates that come to mind, which are smoother. Regardless, I think this is a pomegranate of some variety.

The Wild Campanula stalk rose from a crown of fuzzy leaves growing in the rocky soil under the olive trees.  In all the years we've been there, the "yard" has never been neatly manicured, so beautiful surprises can (and do) pop up anywhere.  

Snails, Cypress Cones, and a Mulberry

The title of this post says much about the grounds around the old mas, or farmhouse.   The snails are found everywhere - the smallest, about the size of a pinky fingernail, like to climb to the tip of grass blades and hang out there all day.  They look like small white flowers from a distance. The larger shells are seen dotted here and there amongst the shrubbery, along with chunks of limestone and flint nodules ( broken occasionally and showing their deep reddish brown conchoidal fractures), as well as various kinds of pine and cypress cones. 

Tall, narrow cypress trees line a portion of the drive. They are also grown as a windbreak around the pool, although I can't imagine swimming while the Mistral is blowing.  We experienced several days of Mistral winds one year, and I can tell you, swimming is far, far from your mind as you stagger around hoping you don't get blown over onto the pavement. The thick stone walls of the mas, built with blocking Mistral winds in mind, has only one small window along the whole length of the back wall, attesting to the strength of the wind.  There is one tall Cypress tree on the western side of the house, deep green against the towering honey-colored stone chimney.  You can pick out the house from above (in Gordes) by  gazing downhill toward the east and searching for that tree/chimney combination. 

The front slate terrace is shaded by a fairly large Mulberry tree. Its horizontal limbs reach up and over a standing adult's head and drop juicy black fruit onto the stones. Yes, kind of messy, but they taste very sweet.  The terrace, with its low sitting wall is a good place to have afternoon wine and cheese, and baguettes fresh from one of the local boulangeries.

Tiny Morning Glory

These are flowers from around the farmhouse in which we were staying... the tiny morning glory was growing in rocky soil amidst a long row of lavender that lined the drive.  The bloom was the size of a nickle.  The pink flower was probably a garden planting some time ago. The leaves were gray, which set off the pink flowers beautifully.   I don't know the name of this one, however I am becoming more determined to identify all that I drew on this trip.  I have a field guide, but as it's written in French and the pictures are tiny, it doesn't help one bit.  What now?

Another trip to Provence is definitely coming to mind!  

Centranthus rubrum

Another amazing sight throughout the Provence countryside is the wild Centranthus that grows with abandon in the old limestone walls.  The narrow lanes of the perch villages are pretty much lined with honey-colored stacked-stone walls of various heights, depending on whether it is holding back a hill or keeping cars and bikes from going over the edge.  They are of various patterns (basketweave is my favorite), but always topped with a line of vertical stones, like books on a shelf.  From many of the crevices spill the deep rose mounds of Centranthus.  The rich-rose flowers seen against the honey walls is a beautiful (and unforgettable) sight.

The other flower is in the carrot family, similar to Queen Ann's Lace, but with a little extra lace around the edge and a bit larger.  Don't know the name.

Poppies

Provence is known for acres of poppies in spring that can turn an average olive orchard, say, or even a bland roadside into a magical place.   Here is a single poppy plant from the front yard of our farmhouse.  I think it's good to study just one flower so as to better understand the magic of the field-full....the vivid red tissue-thin petals held aloft by such a long, skinny stem, the ragged leaf, the bristly bud and sculptural seed pod...   The other flower I never identified.  I guess I'll just have to go back and try again!

Wildflowers in Provence

For the record I'm still alive and well and living at Middlewood!  I went on a vacation with my family and returned to find that the deadline for a big project I'm responsible for has been moved up by a few weeks.  I still take walks, but the wandering and journaling has been put on hold until the project ends in mid-July.  (I think this means I'm living in the REAL world for a while.)

To thank you for your patience I plan to post some old journal drawings from one of my trips to Provence.  Travel journaling is a wonderful way to soak in a new place, and the best of souvenirs! 

Our favorite place to stay is a wonderful old farmhouse outside of Gordes, a perch village overlooking the Luberon Valley.  It is at the end of a long driveway off a tiny country road that winds along the side of the hill and through olive groves, open fields full of wildflowers, and weathered stone walls. The almond tree (above) is just outside the stone wall and columns that support the creaky iron gates to our house.   

The small, handmade journal I used has buff-colored Canson paper.

Creekside: Early June

The morning was cool and fresh with a breeze blowing from the east, which means into my face, as I headed downhill towards Meetinghouse Creek.  There were no gnats swarming around my head, a big plus in summer, and some new blooms to admire: New Jersey Tea bushes are covered in lacy white flowers today,  more than I ever remember seeing, and there are still some Coreopsis spotted throughout the pipeline grasses and leaves.  Best of all, I noticed the delicate blooms of Clematis Viorna dangling from low growing vines along the forest edge.  

On the way downhill I found some interesting mushrooms, one patch an intense orangey-yellow ones, and a white one still in button stage, also found a dead Luna Moth lying flat on the path.  It had obviously been there through some rains as it was still whole, but its pale green wings were already partially disintegrated, where nature doing her job of breaking the moth down and turning it back into earth.  

It was fun observing the activity around the slow-moving creek.  Bees, beetles, ants, as well as dragonflies, damselflies, and butterflies buzzed, hummed and clicked all around me.  The most beautiful of all was the male Black-winged Damselfly that flitted about and landed right in front of me.  I think he just wanted to show off to somebody.  His body was a most shocking turquoise not often found in nature. When he rested on a leaf I could see that he also had a patch of turquoise on his head.  

Spent a couple hours messing around and drawing by the creek, then back to the house to begin packing for our vacation.  If the house has internet I will post journal entries from the SC lowcountry during the week.  Otherwise, check back next Monday!

Spotted Cat's Ear and Mockingbirds

You've got to love Mockingbirds!  On my walk this morning there was one singing from a Poplar on the sunny edge of the woods. He was so full of himself, singing everyone else's songs. I walked toward the creek on the cool, shady side of the pipeline and enjoyed his music, as well as the chirrrrr of field crickets, the buzzing of bees, a Yellow-billed Cuckoo's monkey-like call, the clear notes of Cardinals, and Chickadees calling chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee!  The scents of summer were everywhere, one spot heavy with a musky sweetness I could not identify, nor could I find a source... another mystery Mother Nature will keep for today. 

Down by the creek Eastern Tailed Blue butterflies drank from the sandy edge of the stream, and a Great Spangled Fritillary sipped nectar from Butterfly weed.  White Yarrow is blooming down there now, and Horse Nettles, too.   All the while the Mockingbird sang! 

Just as I settled down near the creek to draw a Horse Nettle in bloom the breeze died and, as usual, this is when the gnats showed up. Biting gnats.  I couldn't stand it. I finally had to get up. I decided to go back uphill and check out the breeze situation up there.  

There was a steady breeze from the south at the crest of the hill so I sat down and decided to draw the Spotted Cat's Ears that are growing there and in various states of blooming and producing seed.  While I drew many small spiders visited me, either creeping tentatively across the page or dashing so quickly I thought perhaps I'd imagined it. As well, a tiny black beetle came to check out my drawing, walking, stopping to look around, walking, stopping, walking... ants, (some large) flies, bees - a cricket landed on me. An orange-ish folded-wing-skipper (not as bright as a Fiery Skipper) landed on the bloom I was drawing, took a quick sip, and was gone.  

Towards the end of my drawing the Mockingbird stopped singing and it was suddenly so peaceful!  I was reminded that once I compared a Mockingbird  to a loud radio with a boy at the knobs constantly changing the stations so that you get to hear snippets of songs, but not the satisfaction of hearing the whole thing.  I immediately heard other birdsongs that had been drowned out by the Mockingbird: Indigo Bunting, Red Bellied Woodpecker, Tufted Titmice, and the soft zeeeet! of Golden-Crowned Kinglets from high in a pines near where I sat.

Pasture Rose, Butterfly Weed, and other May Wildflowers

Today is all about the flowers.  The ones I drew were all growing on the pipeline, near the top of the hill where our bench sits facing southwest. It was cloudy and very gnatty, the kind of gnats that like to fly into your eyes and ears, which could very well be used as a form or torture. The Yellow-billed Cuckoos were calling from the treetops again today - Cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-KALP! KALP! KALP!  and the ever present Wood Thrushes.  

There were more blooms to draw, but not enough time.  The rain chased me in with one hand clutching a fistful of flowers so I could finish up inside.

Lupine seedlings from northern California

It's a funny kind of day - warm and humid, the sun is in and out, and a while ago a band of showers passed by and chased me inside.  I'd been out wandering around checking out wildflowers on the back road - if you can call it a road.  It's no more than the roadbed, and even the clay is washing out into a small gully.   The honeysuckle grows thick and is in bloom back there, so the air was heavy with scent. Many non-native wildflowers grow along the road but are lovely anyway: Venus' Looking Glass, Oxeye Daisy, English Plaintain, Queen Ann's Lace, Carolina Cranesbill, Yellow Wood Sorrell, Spotted Cat's Ear, and Common Fleabane, among others not in bloom yet.  In the woods heading to the old road was White Milkweed, Euonymus (actually a shrub) and dainty Summer Bluet.  A Yellow-billed Cuckoo was calling from a tree above me, and added to the steamy morning made it seem more like a jungle in Africa than South Carolina.  Cu-cu-cu-cu-cu-cu-cu-cu-Kalp-Kalp-Kalp!  Our resident Wood Thrush sang his lilting, watery song as well.  Butterflies: Great Spangled Fritillary, Eastern Tailed Blue, and Red-spotted Purple.   I was lucky to see a wild turkey as he (or she) crossed the old roadbed and headed into our woods. 

After running inside out of the rain (can't have my journal ruined!) I noticed my pot of Lupine seedlings on the back porch. I had picked a dry seedpod last summer while in California, brought it home and tossed the tiny seeds into a pot not quite filled with potting soil.  I seem to remember that the once held a Gardenia cutting that had died in the drought conditions we were experiencing last year.  Anyway, I forgot about them until their small and wiry stems poked their perky leaves above the pot rim this spring. Now they are about 8" high and needing to be put out in the garden. 

I think I'll do that today.   

Tulip Tree Silk Moth and Lettered Sphinx

It was sunny, windy and chilly today, a surprise after the warm weather of late.  Walked the dogs at midday and tried to avoid the shade, which when walked through felt like stepping back into winter.  The wind with sunshine on my face was hard enough until I did some uphill walking and warmed up.  

The pipeline is lush and green after all the rain we've had this spring.  The Coreopsis blooms are at their best right now, the field filled with their waving yellow heads.  Many more bright pink Pasture Roses have opened up, and the ragworts still lend their bright shaggy yellow heads to the picture.  I trekked up to a certain spot where I know there is a large patch of Barbara Buttons that bloom about now... but about a month ago I'd see some bulldozers working near the spot.  This could have been the end of the BB's.  However, I found the flowers in fine shape and in full bloom just beyond where the work had been going on, and on the way back I found some slender stalks of Deptford Pinks.  Perhaps tomorrow I will draw these two flowers.  Today I hurried home to see if our visiting moths were still on the side porch, below the light.

They were.  And they stayed there (as models) all afternoon.  I pulled a kitchen stool out to the porch and was quite comfortable as I sketched.  

Deerberry and Persimmon

While exercise hiking on the pipeline today I did my usual looking around to see what I could see.  Occasionally, even while exercising and having to concentrate on finding good footing on the trail, something interesting will catch my eye.  Today was one of those days.  As I was heading up the steep cut-through that runs between clearings I saw a low-bush blueberry blooming, and ticked it off on my "head-list" of blooms for the day: Lance-leaved  Coreopsis - check, Ragwort - check,  Toadflax - check, Blackberry - check, Pasture Rose - check, Blueberry - check - - - it took about two seconds before my subconscious came through and made me do a double-take. “NOT BLUEBERRY,” it said. Then I remembered. The blueberries around here have not only bloomed, but the ones I studied just yesterday along the edge of our woods already have small green berries.  I swiveled on the ball of my foot and walked back to the bush.  Another difference was the size and shape of the open, dangling white blooms. First, it was larger, and second, even though the buds were “bell-shaped,” the fully opened flowers were open wide.   Blueberry blooms are little bells.  Because I was in a hurry (how I hate to be in a hurry!) I snapped off a short piece of a flowering branch and took it home where it waited in a small vase until later in the day, when I (with help from a friend) finally had the time to identify it.  We even hiked back to the bush to make sure. It was  Deerberry - and yes, it's in the vaccinium family with the blueberries.

On the hike down to the mysterious bush, we passed a tree with many small blooms along the stems, at the base of the leaves.  My friend said "Persimmon" and we looked it up, but the small blooms didn’t fit the description in the field guides as being 5/8 “ wide, and solitary.  Solitary?  These blooms were bunched in threes at the base of the leaves and none of the many blooms on the tree were  any larger than about 3/8”.   We climbed up the hill to where I know I've seen a fruiting persimmon in the past to see if it was blooming so we could compare the two trees. It was a tall tree so we had to use binoculars to find blooms. Hmm...  There's one! my friend said. But...  one?  Why only one - and it's bigger, isn't it?  We discussed it at length, until I finally read far enough into the detailed description to learn that it is the female persimmon tree that has the solitary 5/8" blooms, while the male persimmons are “bunched and only 3/8 inch wide.”  Oh! It's a male/female thing!   Mystery solved.  

We suddenly realized we'd spent over three hours wandering around in the woods.  "Almost 6:00?  It can't be!"  I said.  We rushed back to the house so I could clean up enough to go out to dinner at 6:30. On the way we found two more trees behind my house that we couldn't identify, but once again, I was in a hurry.  Those trees will have to wait for another day.  

So many mysteries, so little time!

Kidneyleaf Rosinweed

A creek in springtime is a magical place to visit, and little Meetinghouse Creek certainly fit that description today.  During my walk I stopped to see if anything was going on down there, and at first thought, "Nah, nothing here."  Then I heard a low buzz, and a Whitetail Dragonfly zoomed in and landed on a reed, causing it to bounce and wave for a moment.  A Spring Azure butterfly flitted down from uphill and sipped at the wet sand along the creek's edge.  Small minnows made themselves known by swimming through a patch of sunlight close to me, and once looking for them, I saw them everywhere, swimming oh-so-leisurely and then suddenly darting off... where to? what's the hurry? I wondered.   There were the bright round sun spots on the creek bed that showed the whereabouts of a Water-Strider (barely visible otherwise) as he walked around effortlessly on the water's surface.  

As I studied the Water Strider I slowly became aware of something else, something that reminded me once again of how important it is to stop and settle into a place if you want to truly see everything... along the creek bottom, as clear in the creek water as on land, ran a deep set of turkey tracks, heading downstream.  What a fun discovery.  I could imagine a lone Tom strutting along in the early morning and wading in for a Creek Buffet, getting his fill of insects, spiders, frogs, tender grasses and other tasty morsels.  As I stood there a Great Spangled Fritillary fluttered over the creek and stopped to rest on a grass stem. He fluttered away when four-month-old Daisy came running from Radu's side and splashed into the creek, snapping at the droplets she created as well as the butterfly.  So much for peace and quiet... and turkey tracks.  

On the way back to the house I saw a Blue Darner dragonfly zipping back and forth over a sea of yellow coreopsis blooms, a Checkerspot and a Sulphur butterfly,  seven Black Vultures circling,  and heard Chickadees and Indigo Buntings' songs.  At the top of the hill were the new leaves of a  Kidneyleaf Rosinweed.  I think this is the most beautiful native plant leaf that grows around Middlewood.   Years ago, when I first discovered the leaves growing on the pipeline, I was certain I'd found a rare plant.  It's neither rare nor endangered.  And although the leaves are large and ornate, the fall-blooming flowers don't live up to what you'd expect from such fancy deeply-lobed, carmine-veined leaves.  But they are lovely in their own way - small yellow composites on very tall stems, and they are a good source of nectar for butterflies.   

Beard-tongue and Ragwort

It's warm and windy today, with strong gusts that bend the treetops!  Wandered on the pipeline looking for a patch of mushrooms I saw yesterday, and as I stood looking down at the spot where they had been a big shadow moved past me on the ground.  Looking up I saw a huge red-tailed hawk just as he landed in a nearby pine tree.  The small oak in front of the pine had a hole in the branches that framed the hawk perfectly as he preened and fluffed himself up.  He was so close I could hear little noises and flutters of wings as he balanced and adjusted his stance.  His rusty-red tail glowed in the sun.  He finally saw me and flew off his perch with loud flaps. The strong wind buffeted him as he flew across the pipeline and made his flight quite ungraceful.

Another special treat of the day.... while I was drawing Beard-tongue flowers, a newly emerged Red-Spotted Purple butterfly wobbled out of the woods and landed on my backpack.  His shimmering blue and black patterned wings, with spots of red, took my breath away.  He rested a minute then fluttered up and over about five feet and landed again.  He kept making these short flights, over and over.  I followed him downhill until he finally warmed up and took off over the pipeline's waving grasses and wildflowers.  

Biotite Mica and Other Black Things

Wonderful spring rains today.  Storm after storm swept over us, drenching every tree and rock and blade of grass.  The sun would shine for a few minutes and tease you into believing it was over, then it clouded up again and BOOM! Boom, boom, boom... another gullywasher.  

The dogs and I took a quick hike between two storms.  I had my binoculars with me in hopes of seeing the Indigo Buntings that sing so sweetly in the trees along the pipeline.  They were there again. I heard them, I snuck up on them from the hill above for a better view into the treetops. I changed positions, coming at the trees from other angles.  Sigh... still no luck.  Oh well. I'll try again tomorrow.  I do so love to watch a bird sing...

It started drizzling again before we even got to Meetinghouse Creek, so we turned around.  On the way back I found a crow feather, solid black against sandy clay.  A little further on I found a dead beetle on the path, with ants snacking on the edible parts, the two hard, shiny wings cast aside.   The turkey feather came next.  It was delicately balanced on spikes of spring grass.  

Back at the house I sat on the back stoop and noticed the last gullywasher had rearranged the driveway gravel, delivering some chunks down onto the brick walk. We are lucky to find occasional pieces of Biotite Mica in with the granite.  The one I found on the walk is mostly quartz with just a thin layered section of the mica.  

Daisy was trying to eat the dead wasp. Yuck. I moved the wasp from her sight, putting it behind me with my other stuff, and realized that it all had something in common - the color black.  

Morel Mushroom and Sprouting Buckeye

Over the weekend we went to our cabin near Waynesville NC to open it up for the season.  It's a tiny place that used to be an apple shed in a long-gone orchard. You can still see occasional apple trees here and there on the hill, and until last fall one of the original, 130 year old apple trees stood guard beside the cabin.  It had been failing for years and finally it had to be taken down, but we miss its huge, friendly trunk and waking to the BANG! and roll of the withered fruit it dropped onto our tin roof.   There had been a big hole in the trunk that had been home to the imaginary mouse-friend of our 7-year old neighbor, Rose, so a section of the trunk now resides in their garden at the big farmhouse just up from our cabin. The spot where the tree once stood has the darkest, richest soil I have ever seen, with only a foot-long, narrow band of hard applewood that had been holding up the whole tree.  We wish we could plant another apple tree but the surrounding oaks, ashes, hemlocks, and cherry trees cast too much shade now.  So, yesterday we decided to leave the Christmas Ferns that grew around the base of the tree, add to them and make it into a fern garden.  

Behind the cabin is an old, unused road that circles the top of the hill.  A massive Buckeye tree grows above the road and drops its dark, burnt sienna nuts conveniently (for easy pickup) onto the flat, leaf-littered gravel.  We look forward to gathering a few in the fall for the cabin (see Buckeyes in a Red Bowl). Yesterday, though, I was amazed to see how many seedlings had sprung up this year.  They were about a 18" high and I wondered if this was their first year, so I gently pulled the leaf litter away from the base of one.  Sure enough, there was the shiny brown nut nestled amongst the old rocks.  The fat white stem and thick root emerged from one side and magically went their own way according to nature's law: up and down, respectively.  A beautiful sight.

Also on this road was a Morel Mushroom (I've never seen one before, but I knew it immediately), Violets (Common Blue and Canada), Winter Cress, Forget-me-nots, Golden Ragwort, Daisy Fleabane (much larger than the Common Fleabane), Ground Ivy, Buttercups (Tall and Hooked), and Aniseroot.

We had off and on rain all weekend - a good thing when you have a tin roof and a good book to read.