In the Woods

spring continues

3.26.25 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

Even though I’m seeing lots of bluebirds these days, they are proving to be very challenging to photograph! The one above cooperated by staying put for a little while, but his position in the available light left a lot to be desired. Still, I kind of like that thin crescent outline of light on his breast and belly.

I’m paying more attention to the small grove of sassafras saplings. Right now there is a patch of pretty violets surrounding their trunks. By April other wildflowers will be blooming there.

We checked on the sandhills pyxie-moss and found it still blooming, in spite of all the grasses, pine needles and cones, and assorted leaves trying to cover it up.

Two weeks after the controlled burn the cinnamon ferns are coming up!

Look who we caught making himself right at home in the birds’ tray feeder.

Who robbed the Woods —
The trusting Woods?
The unsuspecting Trees
Brought out their Burs and Mosses —
His fantasy to please —
He scanned their trinkets — curious —
He grasped — he bore away —
What will the solemn Hemlock —
What will the Fir tree — say?
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #57)

small wonders

3.21.25 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
sandhills pyxie-moss

Last year the sandhills pyxie-moss was blooming on January 28 and was still blooming on March 7. This year we saw only one flower on the clump on February 26, but finally, on this March 21 visit we found a full bloom! We will keep checking on it. You may remember that this miniature shrub is very rare and found only in a couple of North Carolina counties.

When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us.
~ John O’Donohue
(Beauty: The Invisible Embrace)

It seems reasonable to believe that the more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe about us, the less taste we shall have for destruction of our race. Wonder and humility are wholesome emotions, and they do not exist side by side with a lust for destruction.
~ Rachel Carson
(Silent Spring)

After enjoying this wonder-filled morning, a pleasant surprise was waiting for me at home in the evening. As I went to close the drapes in the living room I noticed a pretty mourning dove sitting on the edge of the birdbath on our deck. She was watching me. We made eye contact and we gazed at each other for the longest time. Tim finally went and got the camera and took this picture of her, still looking at me. Years ago, and shortly after my mother died, a pair of mourning doves used to keep me company in my garden while I was out there weeding it, but it’s been many years since I’ve had one make contact with me like this. I felt comforted.

Things have been pretty discouraging around here since Tim had his stents put in. Thankfully he seems to be doing well in cardio rehab. But my dear sister has been diagnosed with the same kind of endometrial cancer I had back in 2017, and her prognosis may not be as favorable as mine was. Also, due to osteoporosis I’ve had to give up my beloved yoga practice. I’ve replaced it with tai chi, which I am liking well enough, but I still find myself grieving for yet another loss. I was very grateful for the solace the mourning dove was offering me.

maple syrup

After reading yesterday’s post, Janet, who lives in Connecticut, tried to post this picture in her comment. It’s a bottle of maple syrup! But my blog doesn’t support pictures in comments so she texted it to me and I decided to share it here. Thank you for the sweet gesture, my friend! It brought back to my mind the memory of a spring equinox we shared fifteen years ago, when we went to the Hebron Maple Festival. I miss the smell of boiling maple sap in New England. AI describes it “as a woodsy, caramel-like fragrance that signifies the start of spring and the process of making maple syrup.”

a blessing of spring

When the Spring is in the offing,
And the early birds are freezing,
When one-half the folks are coughing,
And the other half are sneezing;
When the sun is getting higher,
Though the fact’s hard to remember;
And you huddle by the fire
Twice as cold as in December;
Life and all its cares would crush us,
Floor us in a brace of shakes,
If it weren’t for the luscious
Maple syrup on the cakes.

But a fellow keeps postponing
Day by day his preparation
For the final telephoning
For old Charon’s transportation.
Though he knows the Spring is lying
And his grippe is undiminished,
Still he does put off his dying
Till that can of syrup’s finished.
Then, at last, the north winds waver,
And the sleeping Spring awakes;
But we know the true lifesaver
Was the syrup on the cakes!

~ Walter G. Doty
(The Christian Advocate, March 22, 1917)

a robin on a stem

The UNC college students were off campus for their spring break so we took advantage of temporary free street parking and visited Coker Arboretum, which is one of the botanical garden’s properties. It was a chilly, gray day, which made the pops of color we saw seem all the brighter. The lovely deciduous saucer magnolias were starting to bloom, ahead of putting out their leaves.

Draw me a Robin — on a stem —
So I am hearing him, I’ll dream,
And when the Orchards stop their tune —
Put my pretense — away —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #239)

My mother had a dearly loved andromeda planted by our house, right beside the dining room window. Birds would perch on it while waiting their turn at the feeder, which was attached to that window. As a child, I loved watching the morning birds while I was eating my own breakfast. Mom also said her favorite flower was lily of the valley, which looks very similar to these andromeda blossoms, and is why the shrub is often called a lily-of-the-valley bush.

It’s always nice to find a little sign identifying the tree, shrub or flowers I am looking at, confirming or disputing my guesses. There were plenty of robins and sparrows singing and flitting about, and we even saw and heard a towhee, but none of them would stay put for half a second to let me capture a picture! This is our second spring in North Carolina and it’s proving to be every bit as enchanting as our first one.

on certain mornings

3.11.25 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

Tuesday’s visit to the botanical garden was bright and sunny, and we enjoyed seeing the gentle, even light of the approaching equinox illuminating grasses, spring ephemerals, and shrub buds and blooms. Every year before spring arrives there are controlled burns in some of the piedmont and coastal plain gardens, and we happened to catch sight of one that day. We even spotted a squirrel along a path, so busy eating a bundle of plant stocks and leaves that he didn’t notice how close we were to him.

I can scroll and worry indoors, or I can step outside and remember how it feels to be part of something larger, something timeless, a world that reaches beyond me and includes me, too. The spring ephemerals have only the smallest window for blooming, and so they bloom when the sunlight reaches them. Once the forest becomes enveloped in green and the sunlight closes off again, they will wait for the light to come back.
~ Margaret Renkl
(The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year)

By Chivalries as tiny,
A Blossom, or a Book,
The seeds of smiles are planted —
Which blossom in the dark.
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #37)

The native wildflowers and grasses in these gardens beds evolved with periodic wildfires, which keep trees and shrubs from growing in and return nutrients to the soil. In a few weeks, new growth will be emerging from the ashes.
~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
(Facebook, March 10, 2025)

a yearly controlled burn in the Coastal Plain Habitat

So many simple ‘chivalries’ exist and noticing even a few of them can bring us great pleasure and help us to ‘remember how it feels to be a part of something larger.’

wordless wednesday

summer in the light

As we walked along the Streamside Trail, our Merlin Bird ID app indicated that we were hearing a phoebe singing. I was delighted to finally spot the little sweetheart and get a couple of pictures before he flew away to the next tree.

After walking that trail we went through a back gate into the botanical garden to see what signs of spring we could find there.

3.4.25 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

An American hazelnut shrub (close-up above) was flowering. The dangling yellow catkins are male and the tiny magenta flowers are female, but the shrub does not self-pollinate. We’ll have to come back in the fall to see if there will be any hazelnuts on this one.

A walk through the Mountain Habitat provided glimpses of a few spring ephemerals just getting started…

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold — when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.
~ Charles Dickens
(Great Expectations)

We stopped by the bird blind at the Children’s Wonder Garden but the feeders were empty. However, scratching around on the ground with the squirrels, through a pile of discarded sunflower seed hulls, I spotted a couple of song sparrows!

They weren’t singing and they were hard to catch, but I was happy to capture with the camera my first song sparrow in North Carolina!

sick days and snow days

2.26.25 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

February wasn’t very kind to us this year. It started out well enough with a couple of nice walks but then we were hit with a couple of weeks of viruses, and several days of snowy, icy cold weather. Worrying about my sister’s worsening health problems has added to the feeling of the rug being pulled out from under our feet. But yesterday the temperature reached 71°F and we made a brief afternoon visit to the botanical garden.

We were looking specifically for the tiny sandhills pyxie-moss that we saw last year but were disappointed to see only one little flower on the clump. Maybe February was a bit too harsh for this ‘rare minute creeping subshrub,’ too. But we were happy to see some of our old friends from last winter.

seedbox *(ludwigia alternifolia)*
aka square-pod water-primrose

Last year we had daffodils blooming in the woods behind our house on February 21. Not this year. I think the 3.5 inches of snow we got on the 19th, followed by days of cold temps, made them wait a week or so. But now they’re blooming! Today I’m dealing with malaise and the chills from my second shingles vaccination. But I hope to get back on track soon.