Our county has been in an “exceptional drought” since late June. This is the highest and most severe category listed on the U.S. Drought Monitor. For almost a year we’ve climbed through “moderate,” “severe,” and “extreme” to reach this new level, capped off with record-breaking dry spells in the spring.
It’s been very hot, too, and I suspect the sun-drenched water this poor squirrel is drinking is pretty warm, too. We keep breaking high temperature records. As I take pictures from the comfort of an air-conditioned room my heart breaks for the creatures struggling outside for days on end in the heat.
As the temperature rises, it will drive a great migration — of humans, of animals, of plants, of jobs, of wealth, of diseases. They will all seek out cooler ecological niches where they can thrive. Some will fare better than others. Robins can migrate more easily than elephants. Poison ivy can move more quickly than an oak tree. Farmers who grow wheat have more options than farmers who grow peaches. And some creatures have nowhere to go. Polar bears in the Arctic can’t migrate farther north. Frogs in Costa Rica aren’t going to hop up to Canada. ~ Jeff Goodell (The Heat Will Kill You First: Life & Death on a Scorched Planet)
12.31.25 ~ Hemlock Bluffs Nature Preserve Cary, North Carolina
As many of my readers know, I grew up surrounded by hemlock trees in Connecticut and miss having them in my life very much. I heard of this place not long after we moved down here but Tim & I never managed to visit it. So, while my sister and her husband were here for eleven days over the holidays a good day arrived, we packed a lunch, and then headed out to see these remarkable hemlock trees.
galax (aka beetleweed, wand flower), an Appalachian mountain native
Hemlock Bluffs is a special place because the north-facing bluffs combine with cool air from a creek below to create a “mountain” microclimate which the hemlocks favor. Sadly, here too they are plagued by the hemlock wooly adelgid but they are being monitored and treated for this insect pest here in this protected preserve.
We headed for East Hemlock Bluffs first and soon found ourselves descending from the top of the bluff over 100 boardwalk steps down to the level of Swift Creek. It was exciting seeing the trees from different elevations, and reminded me of the way the trees looked as I was climbing them in my childhood.
Swift Creek down below
evergreen Christmas fern also loves the moist shaded slopes of woodlands along streams
Swift Creek
…always my marcescent beech leaves…
the most I could capture of a whole hemlock tree
After climbing back up those 100+ stairs we headed over to West Hemlock Bluffs. There weren’t as many steps going down this bluff, but the descent was steeper.
a portion of the steps at West Hemlock Bluff
We were surprised to see a huge holly tree down below. I was amazed to be eye-level with the crown and took a few pictures with the zoom lens. I wondered if this was an American holly which is common here, or a mountain holly, since we were in that microclimate. But I learned that mountain hollies are deciduous so it’s probably an American holly, and probably was about 60 feet tall.
Beech Tree Cove was at the bottom of this end of the bluff and there we noticed a huge fallen beech tree. (below) I also learned that older beech trees do lose their leaves in the winter; it’s the younger ones that keep them in the cold months.
a small section of huge beech
the stump of the fallen beech
a beech grove, the younger ones save their leaves over winter
Back at the park entrance and the Stevens Nature Center they had three hemlock trees in the courtyard, some with those tiny cones I adored as a child. And, while Beverly & John were still inside looking at the center’s exhibits, I waited outside for them.
That’s when a friendly squirrel approached me with a message from Tim. He stayed with me for a few minutes, looking at me intently, and then, comforting tidings delivered, took off.
It was wonderful having my sister with me for so many days. We took three very long walks, hosted three holiday gatherings, and even went to the movies and saw Hamnet. Of course, there were tears of grief at times, and it was good sharing those, too.
“I’ve never seen this before!” exclaimed my sister Beverly, the geologist. It didn’t look like much to me but she was clearly excited by this apparently remarkable formation (above) she noticed here on her first walk in North Carolina with me. She explained to us that it is a pallid zone with a saprolite layer underneath it.
sweetgum branches and twigs under a covering of gray clouds
It was the day after Christmas, which had been “hot” with record temperatures in the 70s. But on this day it was back down in the 50s and very gray, raw and chilly. I took Beverly and her husband John down to walk at length up Bolin Creek.
the essence of marcescence (beech leaves)
a feral muscovy duck in Bolin Creek
I rarely find a bird to photograph on this walk because they are singing way far up in the tall trees. So I was very surprised to come across a feral muscovy duck sitting on a log in the creek, watching the world go by. He kept an eye on me, but didn’t move, as I photographed him from three different spots along the creek bank.
taken from another angle
and yet another angle
I haven’t seen too many squirrels this fall and winter and have been wondering why that is. This one was the only one I saw sitting still, although just a couple of others were later seen racing up the trees.
eastern gray squirrel
‘are you looking at me?’
We went on to discover fungi, lichens, and unusual burls. (There are no loblolly pines in New England.)
bracket fungus
unusual circular burl on a loblolly pine
on retracing our steps we found the muscovy duck in the water
beard lichen with apothecia (a cup-shaped or saucer-like fungal fruiting body)
beard lichen growing with greenshield lichen (?) on a fallen branch
It was good getting out for some fresh air and a good long walk, and having the chance to show my nature-loving sister and brother-in-law a little bit of the different world down south here.
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)
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.’
To celebrate New Year’s Day my friend Susan invited her friend Sarah and me to take a nice long walk on Pumpkin Loop in the Carolina North Forest. It was my first time on this trail in the dense pine forest. I remembered to wear my thermal leggings and enjoyed the brisk winter air, while the bright sunlight created sharp, dark winter shadows. We heard many birds and caught glimpses of a few of them.
long winter shadows
I have read that squirrels eat pine cones. They use their teeth to peel away the scales on the cone in order to extract the seeds inside. I’ve never seen one doing it, but on this walk I spotted some evidence of the process left behind on a stone.
remains of a squirrel’s pine cone seed feast
oak marcescence
post oak (thanks to Teri for the identification)
a tiny cairn on top of a post
sunlit end of cut red cedar (?) log, covered in moss and lichens, resting on a bed of pine needles, with some tiny mushrooms nearby
Leaving the loop trail, we then stopped to visit a labyrinth nestled into the woods.
Carolina North Forest has 750 acres of woodlands and countless trails. It would probably take a lifetime to explore all of them, but that means I will never run out of possibilities here!
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.
white-throated sparrow
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.
a squirrel nest
oakleaf hydrangea
oakleaf hydrangea
Happy New Year!
a lingering aster
eastern gray squirrel
pansies
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!
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)
hemlock cones
looking up
mountain witch-alder
spotted cucumber beetle on a New England aster
sweetgum
simple healing in watching a mourning dove feed on the forest floor ~ Barbara Rodgers (In the Woods)
