View from the bridge

There is a pedestrian bridge not too far away that is one of my favourite destinations. You have to walk a little ways through the forest, then along the river to get to it. I have walked to it in all seasons and watched them reflected in the foliage and the river.

As you get closer to the bridge, you leave the cool of the woods to enter a meadow where I have seen bald eagles soaring overhead and bluebirds sitting in the oak tree. You can continue west on the path or cross the bridge where the path will take you through a conservation area. Most of the year the river at this point is hidden until you actually cross onto the bridge. There is a sign before you step onto the bridge itself, which recognizes those who have contributed to making this a lovely path,and on it is the name of a friend's grandma. She was a feisty lady who lived life on her own terms, and leaves a legacy of strong and beautiful women. I was honored to know her for a short time and I often remember her when I walk here.

 I love that whether I look to the east or to the west, the river has a bend so that its path is hidden and mysterious. As I focus on this limited portion of the river that is visible, I got to thinking about all the things that I have seen from just this spot.

I have seen deer looking up at me, grazing in the meadow, and crossing the river in the twilight.

I have seen blue heron fish in the river, fly overhead, and sit on a tree limb to preen.

I saw a beautiful least bittern, less common around here, sit beneath the bridge.

I have seen small turtles on the rocks beside the river, and a grandpa snapping turtle sun on the pile of sticks and debris on the far shore. I was just as happy to admire him from a distance. He was huge!

A spring and summer constant on the bridge is the Red-winged blackbird, generally the male. A favorite nesting place is the small island below because of its dense covering of reeds. The mamas are busy in the nests, while father oversees all from the bridge and shouts encouragement. 

I have enjoyed sightings of Hooded mergansers, Yellowlegs, and just recently, a Pied-bill grebe. Rare treats.

The list of amazing things that I have seen from the bridge is long and will probably merit more discussion at a later date, but the last two I want to mention are the beaver and the muskrat. Perhaps this seems an odd choice, but let me just say that I grew up in a big city, and these are animals that I had thought never to see in the wild. 

From the bridge I saw them feeding,

playing and interacting as a family,

leaving evidence of their work, and even having a bath. My own private nature program!

I hope that the diversity of the wildlife That I see on the Grand River speaks to a general healthiness of the water and ecosystem. It will surely require our careful stewardship to maintain and improve. 

The muskrat is much smaller than the beaver and more likely to be seen at any time of day on the river. I had always thought that its tail was round like a rat's, but not so. It is more like a blade, sharp on the edges and thicker in the middle, and they use it like a rudder. They live in burrows in the river bank which helps them to stay cool and of course keeps their favourite snacks handy. 

I watched this muskrat one afternoon. He seemed to be doing some kind of muskrat triathlon where he swam a distance, climbed over a log or branch, then swam some more. The answer to this puzzling behaviour was that he was marking his territory with a secretion called "musk", and I will hazard a guess that this is the source of its familiar name of "musk"rat, which is much easier to say than its formal name of Ondatra zibethicus. If we take a short walk on the weird side, we can visit the White House in 1976 and listen in as Captain & Tennille sing "Muskrat Love" to the President and Queen Elizabeth. Another interesting, or not, fact, is that the song was to be called "Muskrat Candlelight". All this to say that muskrats have two or three litters per year, each with up to eight kits. Busy beavers, well, rats, but they were actually called musk beavers at one time, until this became confusing and found to not be actually accurate.

For most people, the bridge seems to be a just something necessary to get from one side of the river to the other; they ride across, or pass its length chatting, oblivious to the beauty of the river. Maybe there need to be benches, a gentle reminder to stop and watch the ebb and flow of the river, see the loveliness of its surroundings and all the life it supports. ...just a thought.

“A river seems a magic thing. A magic, moving, living part of the very earth itself.” 

 Laura Gilpin

Spruced up

When we were looking for a home in this area, I asked the agent for a house with a big tree; I forget why exactly, but it seemed important at the time. She found us this house, which has a huge blue spruce in the front, and it felt like home. The tree is about four storeys high and since this house was built in the 1960's, it is over fifty years old. Not ancient like some oak trees in Britain, for example, or even really old, like the hundred year old willows downtown by the river, but of a goodly age. (not unlike myself)

I don't know if our tree is a grand old lady, or a venerable old man, but it is a peaceful and protective presence in my life. I have an affinity for trees; I don't know why they speak to me, but I love everything about them; the texture of their bark, the variety of their shapes, and the wonder of their fruits. The forest is a place of calm, and this tree brings that sense to me as I sit on the porch beside it. I got to pondering, (such a lovely word), about all the gifts this lovely spruce brings.

It frames our sunset view, shutting out all distractions, and reminds us to appreciate the spectacle for those few moments.

Its quiet presence has helped to create a place where birds and animals feel welcome. (not cats, sorry)

Last year we had chickadees in our birdhouse for the first time. I was not really expecting tenants as the house was deeper than most small birds would care for. Such a delightful, friendly bird, although I was thinking that perhaps what we see as friendly behaviour, is simply evidence of a really strong sense of survival. What diligent and hard-working parents. My favorite bird guide describes the late spring appearance of the chickadee as "worn", an apt description of any parent of newborn children. 

This spring to my delight, wrens moved into that house. It was fascinating as there was a whole new dynamic in the yard. Mama Wren was Queen, the ultimate ruler. Her alarm would tell me if a cat was lurking that I, as her most humble servant should see to. If the chipmunk Fred, was foraging too close to her nest she was on him like a bomber in a strafe attack. Wrens are small birds, like the chickadee, but even the bossy sparrows gave her a wide berth. The wrens were not interested in the variety of bird seed that I provided because they prefer insects, so they were everywhere in the garden hunting under leaves and in crevices for bugs. Her favorite place? the spruce tree.

When the nesting birds have raised their broods and moved out, the sparrows and mourning doves move back into the tree and enjoy the sun on the south-facing side of the tree. This is a cosy spot when  the winter winds are blowing from the north, and faces our living room window so I can watch from my cosy spot.

The spruce invited a Red-breasted nuthatch to stay with us last year. Its larger cousin the White-breasted nuthatch prefers a deciduous home, but it has paused for the occasional visit as well. This wee bird enjoys peanuts in all its forms and sunflower seeds, although they raise their nestlings on insects. I watched her one afternoon and she kept landing on the bricks of the house. She was looking for places to cache her seed. Probably a good thing for us that no places were found.

Every once in a while we get an unusual visitor. This juvenile oriole stopped by for a few moments one morning. Orioles are a normal summer nesting songbird in our area, but are more often seen closer to the river because they prefer the aspens and larger deciduous trees that grow there. 

  Downy woodpeckers and blue jays are year-round family. The woodpeckers visit the peanut feeders, and although both male and female visit to feed, they are never at the feeder at the same time. It is especially fun to see the young ones in the yard. These woodpeckers have landed on metal railings and wooden trellises and attempted to find food, and one day junior landed at the blue-topped birdhouse and drilled away on the end of the perch. Not a fruitful effort! 

  A family of blue jays have frequented the yard this year. I was glad to see young and healthy birds coming to visit, and because they have been raised here, they have learned that not only do peanuts fall from heaven if they squawk, but the people on the porch are harmless so its ok to come quite close. Good deal all the way 'round.

Besides chipmunks, Fred and folks, there are other furry friends of the fir. I never know when a bunny head will pop up somewhere, and of course squirrels are a constant. The bunnies generally snooze under the spruce then go out and forage. Mostly they do that elsewhere, except for the spring when some baby bunnies decided that my oriental lilies needed culling. I was not in agreement. The squirrels enjoy the delights of the tree and I enjoy them. Some people granted, do not, but squirrels have a lot of entertainment value, which we may explore at a later date. We have an agreement; I provide some peanuts, they do not make homes in my roof or chimney.

There are many other regular visitors, all of whom are enjoyed. The spruce tree is a constant inviting presence. When I look out the window at it there is always someone nestling in its branches. Among northern tribes, the spruce and other evergreens, are a  symbol of peace and protection. I am grateful that one resides with us.

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.  Martin Luther

Sowing the seeds

In the forest, some of the trees are wearing their colourful party dresses, some of them are already undressed, and some of them haven't yet decided what to wear. In the garden the perennials are beginning to look like they are past their "best before" dates. However, what is left after the greenery and bright petals are gone, are the structures that ensure the the continuity of that plant. And speaking of continuity; while the method is not a topic discussed between mothers and sons having reached the age of maturity, the result is growing like a weed, and is cute as a button. Sorry, new grandma moment.

The wild geranium has an ingenious method of spreading its seeds throughout the forest. The fruiting structure (on the right), that slender column, has five sections. The little cups at the base, each contain one seed and at maturity, they split apart and the seed is flung from the cup, leaving the fascinating star-shape on the left. Effective and elegant and not unlike a medieval trebuchet.

Virgin's Bower is part of the clematis family, but because the flowers, while lovely, are small, you will generally only find it in the wild and not at the nursery. Shame. I think there is a life lesson here. The female flowers develop the fruit which grows into this cunning form, with the tails on the seeds maturing from green to brown with feathers which the wind eventually carries away. This vine is also called Old Man' Beard and Devil's Darning Needles. There is a dearth of information as to why any of these names are appropriate, so I guess you can choose the one you like.

I think I am safe if I call this a Horse Gentian. I may even be safe if I call it an Orange-fruited Horse Gentian. Having come upon this plant is an state of, well you can see for yourself, it was not possible to be more specific. I had never seen this plant before and was intrigued not only by the colour of the fruit, but by its placement in rings around the stem where the leaves attach, and that there were several groups of fruit on each stem. Horse gentian is also called Wild Coffee and Feverwort which indicates both an edible use and a medicinal one, neither of which I will be attempting at this time.

The running strawberry or Euonymus obovatus is apparently considered a shrub. This was a surprising fact to me because if you want to see these interesting fruits, you have to be down at pavement level. When I read that it has a "prostrate growth form", this made more sense. The pink capsule has three sections, which a University of Michigan professor described as "leathery and tuberculate", which on further research I found to mean "beset with tubercles" or "knobbly projections or excrescences". sigh. The brightly covered contents of the capsule contain the seeds and attract the attention of birds who will eat them and "deposit" them in a new place.

This is the seed pod of Pea family member Birdsfoot Trefoil, and you will see it if you happen to be at pavement level next to most any Ontario curb or roadside. This plant has a cheerful yellow flower with an intricate shape, and is also called Lotus corniculatus. Not to be confused with the lotus, whose name is Nelumbo?! The birdsfoot part of the common name refers to the configuration of the seed pods, somewhat odd as most birds have four toes. However, some chickens, like Silkies, have five toes so maybe these are chicken toes. Looks a lot more like a turkey tail, just sayin'.

If you come back from a walk with more than you went with, you might be transporting a bur. These come from a variety of plants that produce fruits that have prickles with tiny hooks at the end. These stick to whoever is passing by, and thus explore strange new worlds; seek out new life...etc.. This is a Cocklebur or Clotbur which is a larger example. The bur is long and oval, as compared to the burdock bur which is round. The bur contains two seeds; one which will germinate the following year, and the other, the year after. So, transportation plan, check, two year production plan, check! This is all good for the cocklebur, but really bad news for our soybean farmers. These plants are practically indestructable; they can survive flooding; if a plant is cut down while the burs are green the seeds will still ripen, and the burs contain enough air space inside to float and cause havoc in another field. Maybe it is really an alien life form.

Queen Anne's Lace, or Daucus carota, is part of the carrot family and apparently the leaves when crushed smell like carrots, and the young roots can be eaten. Never to be confused with poison hemlock, who looks very similar, however, because the results when eaten would not be the same. Another common name is bird's nest, most probably for the appearance in the seed stage, as above. I think it is also a bit like a hand closing into a fist but that does not make as lyrical a name. When going to seed, the plant looks like it is infested with hundreds of creepy many-legged bugs. There are two seeds in each fruit, which I have read are good for the digestive system. I also read that some make jelly out of the flower heads as well as eat the greens. I believe that I will err on the side of caution and not try any of these tasty treats any time soon.

This is the fruit pod of the Yellow pond-lily, the Nuphar lutea. It is also called brandy bottle because it has an alcoholic scent that attracts the flies which aid in pollination. This is a favorite snack food for muskrats and I read that the seeds when heated, make a crunchy human snack, sort of like popcorn. The roots have been used to make flour, and a homeopathic tincture that is used as a remedy for dyspepsia and thyphoid fever. I just thought it was really interesting bobbing away there in the pond, and as I look a little closer at the bottom left of the photo, I see a minnow has photo-bombed it. Always something unexpected. 

While Fall is a time of great beauty, it is also a time of transition. All of our seasons are beautiful, and here in Ontario we get four, but not all of them are cold! However, I realized that seeds are a promise; of fresh beauty; of renewal; of spring. That all things pass, and while that can bring sadness, there is also hope of new things to come. To a "glass half empty" kind of girl like me, this is as essential as air.

"For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together.  
For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad."-   Edwin Way Teale

September in the garden

Today is a perfect September day; warm with a little breeze and just right for sitting on the porch. It is the time of year though, when you have to look for a different beauty in the garden; that of seed shapes and foliage changes. Hosta is still blooming but their leaves, which I would love to describe as lacy, are merely looking ravaged by whoever has been dining on them. As I sit and watch it is clear that there is still a lot of life yet and it remains a very busy place.

I was watching this bee atop a rudbeckia flower. He was heavily laden with pollen, indicating a very busy morning, but he was going around the top of the seed head in a circle. When I looked a little closer, I saw that there is a ring of small yellow florets that he seemed to be following like a pathway. Curious. I then read that bees eyes allow them to see UV light, and when they look at a flower they see a pattern which is called a nectar guide. On a rudbeckia the bee sees rings not unlike a bull's eye, leading to the centre ring where the nectar is. How efficient is that? 

Since we, well I, am on the subject of pollinators, I decided to see if there was a preference shown between the two upright sedum varieties now blooming. This one is light pink with pale green leaves and might be called Sapphire. 

This one is the ubiquitous Autumn Joy, which is a deeper pink and has darker green leaves. Sedum are drought-proof, thrive wherever they are planted, and are bee magnets. When I looked at my own plants, both varieties seemed equally busy. When I looked online I discovered two things; one is that gardeners have really strong preferences, and the other is that there could be a lot more sedum variety in my garden.

My snapdragons are are still in bloom, and while generally considered an annual, if you leave them to go to seed, they will bless you by turning up again next spring in the same spot and maybe they will surprise you by sprouting someplace else. Some folks consider this an old-fashioned plant, but having been a staple in every garden I ever remember, that is precisely why it still brings me joy. A velvety gem, a sweet memory.

The hydrangea shrub has gradually changed over the past week from creamy white to an ever deepening pink. This shows the two types of flowers that are a common characteristic of hydrangeas; the small inner ones, and the outer showier flowers  It is thought that the name "hydrangea" comes from the combining of two Greek words, one for water, and one for jar or vessel. Clearly this cluster does not demonstrate a posture for holding water effectively.

The lavender flowers are gone but a few seed pods remain. I rub my hands over the foliage and sniff for some quick aromatherapy. The pods are delicately shaped and make me think of coral. I am hoping that the tiny seeds have been dispersed in the garden and I'll see some fresh clumps in the spring. Something to anticipate.

The climbing rose is still blossoming which is a wonder to me. I don't know whether we had a smaller Japanese beetle population this year or the extra rain this year ensured a healthier plant. Whatever the reason, it is a lovely treat, and there are big rosehips growing in behind the "stars" that are left as the petals fall away.

While some of the songbirds have left the region already, the year round birds are very busy. This goldfinch is beginning his fall molt which will give him a muted wardrobe of olive for the winter. In the spring he will molt again so that he can look his best for the ladies. In the mean time he is enjoying the seed heads in the garden and on the roadsides. 

A giant spider has taken up residence in the japanese maple. The web he has spun is cleverly placed in the runway of incoming insects looking to feed on the sedum and rudbeckia. I watched with morbid fascination as a hapless bee hit the web. The spider descended and in an instant had the bee rolled up and carried aloft for a later meal. Not long after a bumblebee got entangled but I loosed him from his bonds and deposited him on the ground to recover. No need to be greedy (or get any larger in my view).

It was brought to my attention by a kindly neighbour, that there seems to be an overabundance of seed cones in the evergreen treetops this fall. This led me to take notice of the top of our blue spruce, and lo, at the top, about four storeys up there are a lot of cones. Now apparently this a foreshadowing of, you guessed it, a heavy (insert w-word here). Being a curious sort I checked it out and found that there was also a bumper crop in 2010, and the senior research scientist at the Arnold Arboretum in Boston, said that crops like these are the result of three years growth. He said that if the tree produces cones on an unpredictable cycle, the insect predators cannot adjust and so it is likely that every three to seven years it would be a good to have a folder of pine cone craft ideas at the ready.

"I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house.  -  Nathaniel Hawthorne