eastern gray squirrel – In the Woods

ragged-edged beech leaves

Stop and listen to the ragged-edged beech leaves, pale specters of the winter forest. They are chattering ghosts, clattering amid the bare branches of the other hardwoods. Wan light pours through their evanescence and burnishes them to gleaming. Deep in the gray, sleeping forest, whole beech trees flare up into whispering creatures made of trembling gold.
~ Margaret Renkl
(The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year)

12.20.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

A week ago I made a quick trip to the botanical garden to take a final picture for my four seasons photo hunt, and added it the post, which had become an eight season collection. It was a chilly, gray day but I was tempted to linger and see what other kinds of pictures could be taken in the very dim light of midwinter. One beech tree was full of marcescent leaves. A single leaf was dangling from another one.

Finally, I got pictures of one of the white-throated sparrows foraging under the bird feeders, where there is a little less brush for them to hide under. There is stark beauty to be found in the winter garden, when seedheads are left naturally for the birds to eat.

It still amazes me how pansies are winter flowers down south here! Imagine – pansies outside in December! Even though the temperature was in the low 50s that day, it felt cold and raw to me, in spite of my extra sweater, winter jacket, hat and gloves. I could have used my thermal underware but I didn’t think it would feel that cold out there.

One of the many things I do miss about being a young person is what was my tolerance for the cold. I used to love winter, being a January baby, and have many more fond childhood memories of playing outside in that season than in the others. (No bugs!) My sister and I spent countless hours ice skating in the frozen swamp in the woods behind our house. It was fun gliding across the (sometimes lumpy) icy hollows between the hummocks. A challenging obstacle course. And not a pansy in sight until April!

as autumn becomes a memory

11.27.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
northern mockingbird

November ends. I come across a poem by my favorite poet — she describes the sense of loss and disconnect I had been feeling all month.

She could not live upon the Past
The Present did not know her
And so she sought this sweet at last
And nature gently owned her
The mother that has not a Knell
For either Duke or Robin
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1535)

I’m grateful for and encouraged by nature, poetry and my books, and family and friends, as I imagine most of us are. This squirrel came up to me on our last visit to the botanical garden, as if to say, “I’m here, too.”

The poorest experience is rich enough for all the purposes of expressing thought. Why covet a knowledge of new facts? Day and night, house and garden, a few books, a few actions, serve us as well as would all trades and all spectacles. We are far from having exhausted the significance of the symbols we use. We can come to use them yet with a terrible simplicity. It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
(The Poet)

spotted cucumber beetle on a New England aster

simple healing in
watching a mourning dove feed
on the forest floor
~ Barbara Rodgers
(In the Woods)

beloved mourning doves

11.19.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

At last! I found some mourning doves in North Carolina! I think these two were probably a pair. I’ve really missed seeing these gentle birds, who frequently visited my balcony in Connecticut, and also used to hang out with me whenever I was weeding my garden. They had come into my life to comfort me after my mother died in 1991. Now I feel my mother’s spirit here. More of this story here.

As I was photographing the mourning doves I got the feeling someone was watching me. Turned out to be a squirrel on a nearby tree, eye level with me. I didn’t need to zoom in at all.

Also close by was a tufted titmouse who was diligently looking for something to eat inside that twig.

Down a different path we encountered a northern cardinal walking ahead of us, and then turning around to give us this backward glance.

Another northern cardinal was way high up in a pine tree, tackling a couple of nuts.

pine needles in the water, leaves hanging over the water

I think I’ve seen a red-bellied woodpecker down here, but this female is the first one I’ve photographed. Isn’t she pretty? It was definitely my lucky day in the botanical garden.

She was inside the wonderful garden and she could come through the door under the ivy any time and she felt as if she had found a world all her own.
~ Frances Hodgson Burnett
(The Secret Garden)

silent sunday

95° feels like 103°

This might be Fred trying to chill out by splooting in the dappled shade under our dogwood tree. The moss probably feels nice and cool on his belly. As the earth keeps warming it’s going to get more and more difficult for this method of lowering his body temperature to work effectively.

dimpled trout lilies and other small spring things

3.3.24 ~ Piedmont Nature Trails
dimpled trout lily

On this Sunday morning my friend Susan and I set out to find dimple trout lilies at the botanical garden, only to find the gates would be closed until 1:00. No matter, we decided to saunter along the nearby nature trails for a couple of hours. And there turned out to be plenty of the tiny lilies in the woods. They are so tiny they barely poke through the leaves on the forest floor. They are native here in the Piedmont.

dimpled trout lily poking up through the fallen leaves

This post has way too many pictures but I couldn’t bring myself to cut out any more than I already did. The woods still looked like it was winter, unless one looked down and more closely at the leaf litter for tiny spring ephemerals.

The Dandelion’s pallid Tube
Astonishes the Grass —
And Winter instantly becomes
An infinite Alas —
The Tube uplifts a signal Bud
And then a shouting Flower —
The Proclamation of the Suns
That sepulture is o’er —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1565)

When the botanical garden gates opened we went in and found more dimpled trout lilies and what looked like more kinds of trilliums coming up.

North Carolina Botanical Garden
more dimpled trout lilies

What a wonderful time we had enjoying springtime’s opening act in this part of the world! I’m sure there will be many more flowers coming soon.

silent sunday

silent sunday

squirrel photo shoot

It’s been a couple of months since I introduced you to Fred, our affable neighborhood squirrel. Recently he decided to come to our back door for walnuts instead of inquiring at the front door. And sometimes he stays to eat them on the railing of our deck. One such morning, when I wasn’t feeling so well, Tim grabbed the camera and got these wonderful shots!

Fred comes around several times a day for his nuts. We’ve seen him chase away other squirrels who dare to come near the front porch or the back deck. One day he took a few steps into the house so now Tim is more careful about how far he opens the door. It brightens our day when we hear him “knocking” and see his little face peering into the sliding glass doors. It’s endearingly comical when leans over the edge of the front porch railing, stretching out so he can scan the bay window for evidence of human activity in the kitchen. His visits are delightful!

Yesterday I overheard Tim talking matter-of-factly to himself as he stepped outside onto the deck, “It would be nice if Fred cleaned up after himself.”

photos by Tim Rodgers