3.29.25 ~ Eno River Farm, Hillsborough, North Carolina
I had never gone tulip-picking before so I was excited to visit Eno River Farm for a new experience. What a unique place this farm was. The first thing to be seen was a giant troll, half-buried on top of a grassy hill. We should have walked up the hill to investigate because I later learned that you can climb up the troll’s leg or go inside of his head.
head, hand, leg, and foot of a giant troll
This picture illustrates how incredibly tall some of the trees down here are. And the people in the picture highlight just how big that troll is. But we were here for tulips! We passed an ice cream parlor with plenty of outdoor seating overlooking fields of organic strawberries and made a note to return with the grandchildren when strawberry-picking season arrives.
my favorites ~ these rosy pink ones I cut three of them to take home
We went inside a nursery to pay for the tulips we cut and came out with an additional, but unplanned purchase, a big red potted geranium for the back deck. We’ll have to see if the squirrels and deer will leave it alone. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the simple beauty of these large tulips on the dining room table where I sit with my laptop most mornings.
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.
sassafras blossoms
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.
violets
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.
sandhills pyxie-moss
red maple seeds
Two weeks after the controlled burn the cinnamon ferns are coming up!
cinnamon fern
evergreen blueberry
golden ragwort
Alabama snow-wreath
rue-anemone aka windflower
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)
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.
trailing arbutus
hepatica
little sweet Betsy
When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us. ~ John O’Donohue (Beauty: The Invisible Embrace)
rue-anemone
purple cress aka limestone bittercress
bloodroot
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)
eastern red columbine
eastern redbud
sassafras (redbud in the distance)
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.
mourning dove photo by Tim
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.
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.
saucer magnolia
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)
Chinese redbud
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.
andromeda aka lily-of-the-valley bush
golden ragwort
Japanese camellia
bridal wreath spirea
‘spectabilis’ border forsythia
‘waterlily’ star magnolia
English primrose
flowering quince
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.
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)
dimpled trout lily
little sweet Betsy
‘lemon drop’ swamp azalea
‘Georgia blue’ speedwell
Lenten rose
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)
weeping forsythia
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.’
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.
eastern phoebe
first spider web spotted this year
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.
‘Arnold Promise’ witch hazel
A walk through the Mountain Habitat provided glimpses of a few spring ephemerals just getting started…
dimpled trout lily
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)
tufted titmouse
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!
song sparrow
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!
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.
sandhills pyxie-moss
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.
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.
2.4.25 ~ Confluence Natural Area, Hillsborough, North Carolina
The first thing to catch my eye as we started down Rocky Water Path was a patch of Christmas ferns (above) growing down the edges of a gully, hanging like drapes. They usually grow up in a fountain-like shape.
And then there was a large group of boulders, not something we’re used to seeing in the woods in these parts. Our trail was leading us sharply downhill to the West Fork Eno River. But just before we reached the river we encountered a box of walking sticks.
Need a stick? Take a stick. Return the stick for another to use.
The sign on the box (above) and the sign next to it (below) had us scratching our heads. Why would we need a stick? We already knew what path we were on, why a sign in the middle of it? Why was there a lost and found, also in the middle of nowhere?
We soon learned why we might need a stick! Turning around towards the river we saw a sign for another trail, pointing across the river. But how to get across? Checking the map we found our location and noted that we were at the “River Crossing.” Hmmm…
We sat down to rest on a conveniently placed bench and after some time figured out that there were some stones going in a straight line across the river. (below) Apparently that was the river crossing. The stones were far enough part that we would not have dared to cross, even with two sticks in hand! Maybe if we were 20 years younger, but it’s hard to remember what having that sort of confidence feels like…
From studying the map it looks like there is no other way to get to Poplar Bend Loop. But if you crossed back over from that trail and happened to forget how you got there, at least you would find the sign and know you had made it back to the Rocky Water Path and could choose to follow it in either direction. As for us, we passed by the crossing and continued on our way along Rocky Water Path. Niste:kmani:hątkóx, means Rocky Water Path in Yesnechi, the language of one of the Sioux tribes who first lived in this area.
holly tree growing over the river (a bit of green to go with the Christmas fern seen earlier)
Rocky Water Path along West Fork Eno River
Fresh air is as good for the mind as for the body. Nature always seems trying to talk to us as if she had some great secret to tell. And so she has. ~ John Lubbock (The Use of Life)
the trunk of a very tall beech tree
As we were leaving we disturbed a flock of robins foraging for food on the trail. One of them was standing his ground, keeping a close eye on us.
I’m not sure if we’ll come back to this wonderful nature preserve because the cell phone reception wasn’t good. (Tim’s walking app wouldn’t connect to the cell phone towers.) It was remote enough that we were concerned about calling for help in an emergency. But I imagine it must be quite beautiful here in the spring.
2.2.25 ~ Bolin Forest, Groundhog Day (no shadows at first)
On Groundhog Day last year we took our groundhogs, Basil & Oregano, to the botanical garden to check on their shadows, so this year we decided to take them out into the woods. Our friend Susan joined us for a nice long walk down by our neighborhood’s Bolin Creek.
The weather was chilly, cloudy, damp and gray. It had been raining recently so there was plenty of mud along the path, making for some dicey footing. Susan spotted a red-shouldered hawk who visited a couple of trees before settling on one where I could get a picture.
Only the beech trees and their marcescent leaves, looking like sand or wheat, bring light to such dark, wet woods, standing out vividly among the dark-gray oak and hickory trunks and the cyanine green of the cedars. A few of our beech trees are large and well spread out, but many more are saplings, six to twelve feet high, present and proud and serving as fine, multifaceted reflectors. ~ Bland Simpson (Clover Garden: A Carolinian’s Piedmont Memoir)
A funny thing happened after a couple of joggers passed by us. Apparently it took them some time to realize what their eyes had just seen. (A grown man carrying two stuffed groundhogs.) They stopped running, looked back around and one called out to us, “Wait a minute! Is it Groundhog Day?” We all had a good laugh.
Tim, Oregano & Basil bird-watching together
Bolin Creek was gurgling away, pleasantly full of water and sounding so very soothing.
The sky was so gray, but then, as we started heading back home, the sun made an effort to break through, lighting up the beech leaves…
“fine, multifaceted reflectors”
… and making the creek’s water sparkle in a few spots. So we had Oregano & Basil pose for a second Groundhog Day photo.
(shadows!)
Looking at pictures of our groundhogs’ shadows back in Connecticut I happened to notice that they were a lot longer than the ones down here.
2.2.19 ~ Eastern Point Beach Groton, Connecticut
AI Overview tells me that “shadows are generally longer in the winter, especially in locations further north, because during winter the Northern Hemisphere is tilted away from the sun, causing the sun to appear lower in the sky and cast longer shadows; the further north you go, the more pronounced this effect will be.” I find this so fascinating!
