February Frozen Finger Shots

I am weary of the dreariness. There. I have broken my rule to never complain. ( I break it often.) This past week we escaped the ice and snow that hit most folks who live north of us; but we did experience temps down into the low teens, along with days of grayness that stretched endlessly so that daytime never quite seemed to get here. Well. Yesterday we warmed up, all the way into the upper 50s, and it rained all day. Today is more of the same.

The day before yesterday, I left a warm house, seeking inspiration for this post before the rains arrived. The temp was hovering right at freezing, but with the wind chill it seemed much colder. I can't take pictures with my gloves on, so I call the following images my "frozen finger shots." I hope you enjoy them! 

Despite the weather, I saw a lot of bluebirds. This one is perched in a dogwood tree, Cornus florida. Dogwood is only one of many berry producing plants in the garden that attract bluebirds.

Later in the year this squirrel's nest will be hidden by greenery, but now it is easy to see, perched high in a tree.

My Hellebores were unprotected during the coldest part of last week. They were in full bloom, and I worried about them. I need not have. These hardy plants hunkered down low to the ground, then popped back as soon as the temps climbed.

A lot of my camellia blooms have already turned to brown mush this winter, daring to bloom right before a freeze. I was sure the same was going to happen to 'Red Candles,' whose buds were beginning to open before the arctic air arrived. I was surprised to see the following colorful sight in the woodland garden; 'Red Candles' was drooping a bit, but I saw no brown, mushy blooms! 

Juniperus media 'Sea of Gold' is reported to stay gold through the winter. Here it is, in front of Juniperus squamata 'Blue Star.' Do you see any gold? The frosty air has turned it an odd, though not unattractive, color. It is reaching for the sun. I know how it feels! Above is Pittisporum tobira 'Variegatam.' It is growing in front of Camilla japonica 'Gunsmoke,' whose buds are very tight and nowhere near opening.

Here are Pieris japonica 'Cavatine' and Trachelospermum jasminoides, AKA Confederate Jasmine. I wrapped the jasmine in sheets earlier in the winter when the temps hit single digits. I risked it this time, and it seems OK. I knew the pieris would be fine.

The great hairy vine on this pine tree is the notorious poison ivy. It is not adjacent to a path, so I leave it alone. It would be a monster to kill, and the birds love it.

I love the detail of lichens and moss on this tree bark:

Some shots taken through azalea bushes near the front lawn:

Finally, don't forget to look down! Here are some images taken of rocks and moss and leaves and other things one sees when looking at the ground in my February garden:

It took a while for my fingers to thaw out, but a hot drink and a blazing fire on the hearth did the job. So here I am: watching it rain, thanking God for the good things of winter, and waiting for spring!

Stump World

A fantastic world thrives a few steps down the hill from the patio, overlooked and unappreciated. A massive oak outside our kitchen was toppled by the tornado that tore through our property in 1990. We counted the rings and estimated the tree had been growing over 120 years. We cut the trunk into sections and rolled them to an out of the way place in the woods. Since then they have rested there, silently rotting away without intervention.

Neglected by humans, but not by other species.

Most of the sections are gone now, returned to the earth as all life forms eventually go, but a couple of the larger pieces remain. Recently some bright colors in the area caught my attention, and I walked over to see. I was amazed at the dead wood, heaving with life.

Fungi, moss, and lichen cover the stumps. They are working along with bacteria and other microscopic organisms to decompose the wood. Meanwhile, all sorts of bugs — beetles, spiders, snails, ants and countless others — find shelter and food within the crevices of the wood, and they themselves become food for birds and other wildlife. Pieces of acorns and seeds are scattered across the surface, leftovers dropped by birds and squirrels who use the site as their dining hall. Other creatures use the stump tops for basking and sun bathing or for watching over their territory, while conditions beneath and inside the wood are cool and moist, creating the perfect habitat for newts and salamanders. 

I watched as a ground squirrel hurried by. I think the huge chunks of wood also serve as landmarks for little forest animals as they navigate through the woodlands: Turn right at stump world, then take the second tree to the left.

So my old tree, to the end of its existence, is useful to countless thousands of species, in death as in life; and when its remnants have decayed into the ground, even then the lingering nutrients will nourish the soil. A little acorn may take root there, and the cycle of life will begin again.