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!

Bog Plants and a Spider

This afternoon I went journaling with my nephew, Will. The weather was cool and cloudy so instead of going on a big adventure, we walked to the lake close to my parents' house. There are interesting bog plants growing there in a low, sandy spot that gets very soggy after a good rain. South Georgia has had plenty of rain this fall, so today the plants that grow there were all in squishy, wet soil. Our footsteps filled with water as we slogged across the grass to the lake edge. A Great Blue Heron flapped noiselessly over our heads. The minute we sat down, seven geese honked their way through the sky along the far side of the lake. Honk honk!

We used my dad's "beached" kayaks as seats, and pulled our journals out to draw. Right away, Will noticed a spider on a dried, brown goldenrod stem. He picked the stem and handed it to me for viewing. At first I couldn't even see it, but then the spider decided to move. Like magic, out popped the eight inch-long legs. It scooted up the stem about three inches, then stopped, retracted his legs and placed them neatly along the stem. (I drew him with his legs out just a bit so he could be seen.) The bog plants were growing all around the kayaks, so all we had to do was lean over and pick one to draw: the long green one is Foxtail Clubmoss, the orange flower is Orange Milkwort. The cone, I believe, is the remains of a Spikerush. When a tiny flying bug landed on Will's page he handed his pad over for me to see it. "Do you want me to draw it for you?" I asked. "Sure!" he replied. You will see the bug near the arrow on the left side of Will's drawing. We thought it was a good thing when later, a bug landed on my page, as well. I always take advantage of the moment and draw my buggy visitors.

The red leaf was discovered by Will floating on the lake. He only got a little wet retrieving it.

Gall, Beetle Art, Cocoon

Yesterday was a fine day for hiking as long as I stayed out of the wind and in the afternoon sun. Otherwise, even with strenuous physical exercise, the cold crept into my bones. Once I realized this I kept to the sunny side of the pipeline. And since the pipelines are lined with pine trees, which blocked the north wind, I was plenty warm.

At one point I chose to take a shortcut between two pipelines. It was an obvious deer path - more like a highway - through piney woods. On this path I found a pine gall and a chunk of bark with the amazing pine beetle design. I leaned down to pick them up, and as I stood to head back out to the sun the dangling cocoon tapped me on the knee. Since it was last year's (empty, but still in good condition) I snapped the branch and took it along with me.

There's nothing more peaceful than sitting in a sunny, protected spot on a cold winter's day. Get your dog to sit close and find something interesting to draw, and you're truly living right.

Winged Sumac in Seed

Hiking at the end of a busy day is a wonderful way to work out stress. Today I started out with my backpack (which holds journal and accessories) but soon realized that what I really needed was a good, brisk walk. At the same time I noticed on the pipeline the graceful beauty of a patch of winged sumac in seed, their fuzzy stems of rusty brown seeds arched like dancers taking a bow. I stopped short to admire them, and to wonder how I hadn't noticed them before today.

Leaving my backpack right there in the path, I headed off on my hike with Radu and Daisy. Down the steep hill we went, through Meetinghouse Creek, up the far hill to the fence. Turning around I noticed that our thin bit of sunshine (really just a fuzzy bright spot in a gray sky) was about to be wiped out by a charcoal gray cloud rising up from the western horizon. Sure enough, as I hiked home I watched the cloud slowly take it over. The temperature reflected the lack of sun.

By the time we hiked back up the steep hill to my backpack, I'd worked up enough body heat to sit for a while and draw. I settled beside the pack and dug out the journal, accompanied by a flock of Chickadees singing in the woods around me. Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! Daisy and Dubie, tired from full-speed-ahead running, sniffing and exploring, curled up nearby for much needed naps.

Lichen and Jelly Fungus

The world brightened quickly around noon when the morning fog finally burned off. As soon as it did the dogs and I set out for a much needed sunny hike. Water was still running off our high hill and down the small gully in the middle of Old Thompson Road, swirling and dancing over small waterfalls as it sought lower ground. Water droplets still on branches sparkled in the sun. It was warmer than I thought it would be and not as windy as predicted, so within the first five minutes my fleece jacket had to come off. Whew! I also headed for the pine woods to let the shady coolness counteract my decision to wear Smart Wool long underwear!

The soggy needles and leaves were spongey. They made no sound as we wound our way through the trees with a Downy Woodpecker leading the way, flying from tree to tree. We crossed a swollen Meetinghouse Creek, and headed up the other side. On the highest hill I accidentally relocated an interesting old sourwood tree and was just as surprised and excited as the first time. The trunk has deep furrows broken into fat chunks of bark. The branches twist and turn and cross each other in a beautiful pattern, and seen against today's blue sky it was quite striking. And it was just what I wanted to draw. I walked all around and found a good angle. I put my waterproof pad down, folded my fleece jacket and put that down for added comfort. I settled down to work. Out came my box of pens. I carefully picked out one of the new ones and then located my reading glasses in my pocket. Then... Something was missing. My journal. There was no journal in the backpack. I'd had it out for Monday's post and didn't put it back into the backpack. Geeze. Nothing to do but admire the tree a while longer then pack up and go home.

By the time we got back to the house the wind had really picked up. I retrieved my journal from the kitchen and wandered back in our woods a while. The wind kept getting stronger. It really roared! I finally decided I should NOT sit around under old trees in high wind. Sure enough, within five minutes after leaving the hill I heard a loud crack and turned in time to see a huge branch fall out of the top of one of the large oaks and land with a heavy THUD right where I'd been considering sitting. OK! Good decision. For safety's sake I sat myself down in the driveway, one of few spots around Middlewood with no trees, to draw part of a large branch that had fallen in the woods due to the jelly fungus that covered it. The fungus grows on dead branches during summer, looking like dry, mushroom-like scales. When the winter rains begin, bringing days of rain instead of just hours, the jelly funguses plump up into a slimy, jiggly, heavy mess. They grow too heavy for the dead branch to support. Crack! down they come.

On closer inspection I found another fungus (Honeycomb) and various lichens on the small piece I'd picked up. I've always been fascinated with lichens and have wondered about the weird jellies I see in our woods, so this was a particularly fun day...first hiking, then drawing, and last but not least, learning.

Aster in Seed

Having been sick for over a week now it was more than wonderful to go outside in the cool but sunny afternoon. The breeze had died and the clouds drifted away enough for me to actually feel warm sitting on the south side of a steep hill with my face in the sun. Oohhwee! I could have taken a nap, that's for sure. Birds chipped and cheeped in the pines around me, Chickadees and Tufted Titmice, for sure, Kinglets too, I think. Crows passed noisily overhead. Radu and Daisy came to sit beside me. The sun sank before me. All in all a yummy afternoon.

Fossils, Shells, Sea Glass, Sea Whip

Today was our last day at the beach. To celebrate our wonderful week I took my journal to the beach this afternoon and settled down to draw whatever I found around where I sat, or on the beach in front of me.

Sitting there I thought about how lucky I am to have access to this beach crowded with wildlife, not by people. Every morning I've seen deer tracks running right along the beach, and today I noticed that both deer and raccoon have a major highway located between the low dunes and the tidal creek that snakes around behind them. Also back there: Great Blue Heron tracks, Little Blue and other smaller bird tracks, and big rafts of brown sea oat stems washed in by high waves. In the cold wind I smelled the beach, the pluff mud of the creek, and wood smoke from somebody's fireplace. The surf was calm, and occasionally there would be a slight pause in wave action that offered up a remarkable silence not usually found on a beach. Dolphin rolled far out in the smooth water and pelicans cruised in single file right over me and the lone pelican that floated on the water. Sanderlings skittered around on the damp sand, dashing in and out of the smallest waves.

Tomorrow we head back to Middlewood. We'll pick up Daisy and Radu on the way, and as soon as we unpack I'll head right out into the woods. As wonderful as the beach is, it is always good to get back home.

Bayberry, Glasswort, Sea Rocket, Sea Oats, etc.

Vacationing on Edisto in November is heavenly. There are very few people about, the beach at Jeremy Cay is empty, and so far, we're the only jon boat and/or kayaks in Frampton Creek. The roads have little traffic. Foggy mornings have given way to overcast days in the 60's with a cool breeze. We hope for sun by Thanksgiving, but really, the cloudy days are lovely, too. So who cares! The peace and beauty of this place is everything.

Using Google Earth I figured out that today I walked over seven miles on the beach. I found some good fossils and saw many birds, including Cormorants, Great Blues, Little Blues, Kingfishers, Egrets, Sanderlings, Willets, Great Black Backed Gulls, Laughing Gulls, Brown Pelicans, Sand Pipers, as well as Ruddy Turnstones, Piping Plovers, Hooded Mergansers... We also saw a dead Cormorant on Botany Bay Island. In the low lying ground behind the small dunes and Sea Oats (due to recent years' erosion) were large patches of Glasswort, vining Beach Pennywort, Sandwort, Sea Rocket, and Seaside Croton. Old turtle shells from this year's hatchlings littered the crusty sand. Along the water's edge I found Sea Urchins, starfish, sand dollars, Sea Whip, and a dead Red Drum that apparently had been on a line that got caught in seaweed. The whole mess had washed up in the recent rough surf.

What a wonderful day!

Rocks!

It's a beautiful day today! Temps in the 70's, blue sky, bright colorful leaves still dangling on some maples, dogwoods, and hickories. My hike with the dogs took us all the way to the far end of the pipeline, to where a fence cuts diagonally across the field to mark a boundary. The gate there is still open from when they did some work on a pipe next to Lawson's Fork in late summer. Once we came around the corner from the lower pipeline, the dogs dashed off into the woods and toward the house that is way back in the woods. I waited and waited for them, wandering slowly along the pipeline while listening intently for the rattling leaves of their running. Nothing. In the end they didn't return to me, but returned to the house. A quick call on the cell phone gave me the answer I needed: yes, they'd made it home and were sleeping on the porch. I did the rest of the hike by myself, and was finally able to poke around in Meetinghouse Creek in peace, and pick up rocks without Daisy leaping around, jumping on me, and sniffing at each rock I pick up.

It was very peaceful!

2010 Jamboread Poster

Since last week was busy and gave me very little time to journal, I thought I'd post this painting to show you some of what I've been working on. Mr. Frog is next year's "poster child" for our library system's fabulous children's reading festival, Jamboread! If you have children in your life and live nearby, plan to come! It's always the first weekend in March.

I hope a journal post will come along this afternoon.... stay tuned!

Maple-leaf Viburnum

This is yesterday's post, but it could just as well be today's. With clear blue skies, leaves falling in the cool breeze, and fall crickets trilling here and there - both were perfect afternoons for a hike with the dogs and a little journaling.

The patch of small Maple-leaf Viburnums have been in our back woods from the time we built our house, twenty years ago. They don't seem any taller, wider, or thicker than when I first saw them but this might be because they grow in deep shade on the side of a dry hill. There is another large patch of these viburnums (possibly?) in the front woods that are twice (maybe even thrice) as large. They grow in a damper spot that gets a little more sun, but they have no fruit and have barely begun to change color... as I write this I wonder if perhaps they are another kind of Viburnum...hmm.

Anyway, when I first noticed this small cluster of trees it was about this time of year, and you couldn't miss the mass of pink leaves in deep shade. They glowed! and for a few years I thought they were just small maple trees. Then, somewhere along the way I read about viburnums and things began clicking - my eyes took in more. The flowers in the spring, for instance - Maple-leaf Viburnums have clusters of small white ones. After reading that I walked into the woods to look, and there they were. How could I ever have missed the flowers? And the tidy pairs of leaves.

Now I admire my Maple-leaf Viburnums every time I walk past them. Not only that, I've also learned to identify other viburnums, such as Arrow-wood, and Rusty Blackhaw. Who knows what will be next!

If you have any interest in shrubs, you might look for the fascinating book written by Donald Stokes in 1981, called The Natural History of Wild Shrubs and Vines (Eastern and Central NA), Illustrations by Deborah Prince Smith. My copy came from the Friends of the Library book sale, so I don't know if it's still available new, but used books are easy to come by these days.