Easter Monday Snow and My Sketches

Kwanzan cherry tree blossoms.

 

It snowed earlier in the week on Easter Monday, just as my Kwanzan cherry tree in front was starting to unfurl its lovely blossoms. Rain had been predicted, but snow--I was surprised, to say the least! Many trees were just starting to bloom: the Carolina Silverbell tree, the redbud, the flowering quince, the dogwoods, all those delicate  and precious flowers...fortunately the temperature was hovering just above the freezing point, so I hope the blossoms haven't been too damaged. I'll have to check on them later on today. Another frost is coming tonight, so there's even more chance of frost burn.

 

The back yard on Easter Monday.

Easter Monday snow on the front yard.

I like to take photos of my Kwanzan cherry tree in bloom, which usually happens around mid-April. On some years that coincides with Easter time. This year's shot is all the more memorable because of the snow!

Sometime last week my yellow Magnolia 'Butterflies' managed to produce a few of the blossoms that had lagged behind enough to escape the frost burn that blighted the rest. It was disappointing to lose so many flowers, the tree had been covered with buds--so sad!

 

Yellow Magnolia 'Butterflies'

My neighbor's weeping apricot tree was such a vision of loveliness last week that I asked permission to cut a branch for the sketch below. I used colored pencils, but didn't get an exact color match--the blossoms really are a little more coral and strong in color. But the delicate frills and details of the flowers would not have "read" if I hadn't used a light touch.

Weeping apricot tree blossoms, colored pencil sketch.

Mahogany tree seed pod (Swietenia mahagoni)

Above is a seed pod of the mahogany tree which a friend form Florida sent me--she sent a box full of fascinating seed pods and botanical oddities collected at the Montgomery Botanical Research Center in Miami that I'm trying to identify. The amazing geometry of the mahogany seed pod was very challenging--I re-worked my drawing completely several times in order to draw it accurately, and realize that I still didn't get some details of the curvatures correctly. The actual seeds are arranged inside the capsule in such a way that each winged seed fits in like a jigsaw puzzle inside each section.

 

Lewisia 'Littel Peach'

The Lewisia 'Little Peach' that I bought last year is covered with buds that have started to open/ The small flowers are a lovely soft yellow fading into peach. I couldn't resist making sketch of it for my botanical journal.

 

Lewisia sketch in my journal.

Recent pages from my botanical journal.

Rebirth of Spring

Daffodils and Thalia narcissi in front.

Creeping Phlox and Thalias.

Our front yard

 

Ahh, spring! Thus far it's been a changeable one, with the usual ups and downs in temperature: one beautiful mild sunny day here and there, interspersed with drizzly or wind-blasted ones, and bloom-burning frosts. Every year I find the seasonal progression of plants and flowers as they come into bloom in my garden ever more marvelous.

Prince Alfred daffodils with Forsythia in the back yard.

A week later the daffodils in the back bed are in bloom.

Blue grape hyacinths (Muscari armeniaca) among Mt. Hood daffodils.

Same bed a few days later.

 Every day is full of surprises as I discover plants I thought had perished are sprouting, while others that were doing so well have disappeared, eaten by the usual garden pests. The daffodils and narcissi predominate at this time, along with the grape hyacinths. Sadly, my yellow magnolia 'Butterflies' was frost-burned this year--no flowers to enjoy except for the branch I cut to paint indoors.

The buds of the Kwanzan cherry in front are still a week to ten days away from opening, yet other plants are starting to show signs of life. I'd all but forgotten about the Grecian anemones I planted two autumns ago, what a charming surprise to see a few of them popping up!

Tiny purple anemones

"Pink Charm" daffodils in the back bed.

The back bed a week later.

 

Spring truly is the season of rebirth! So many more flowers to come in the next months, I can hardly wait to see what surprises my garden will bring this year!

Thalias by the driveway.

My neighbor's weeping flowering apricot tree.

Muscari at the base of  the Zelkova tree.

Yellow Magnolia 'Butterflies' Studies

Buds on a branch from by botanical sketchbook.

 

A heavy frost was predicted in my area for Monday morning, so on Sunday afternoon I cut a small branch with some buds from my yellow hybrid Magnolia 'Butterflies' to study and paint. I rarely get to paint this lovely flower from life, since most of the time the flowers get blighted by frosts before I have a chance to paint them.

The first sketch above was done in my botanical journal (the second notebook in this series) with Copic pens and colored with watercolor pencils just after the bud had shed its scales, which is the technical term for the furry outer covering on the buds.

 

The flower in three stages, three media.

 

The following day the first bud began to open, and I captured its progress in a larger sketchbook, showing the petals starting to unfurl. For the sketch on the upper left I used only colored pencils. 

On the third day, the petals (technically tepals) were completely unfurled, and center of the flower was visible, with its pinkish stamens still tightly closed, while the greenish pistils in the center are extended. In nature, an insect would visit the flower and deposit pollen from another flower on the pistils at this point, while they are receptive. The flower would close up for the night, perhaps trapping the insect inside. Indoors, of course, there weren't any insects available for pollination, but the flower's exquisite lemony perfume advertised its receptivity. An added bonus to painting these magnolias!

For the rendition on the middle right, I used only conventional watercolors. Another bud lower on the branch was starting to unfurl, and I drew it lightly in pencil on the lower part of my paper.

On the fourth day, the petals of the first flower had begun to fade to a pale cream, but now the stamens in the center were unfurled all around.  At this stage, in nature, the pollinating insect would be covered with the pollen and when the flower re-opened in the morning, the insect would be released to visit and pollinate another flower. 

This is the strategy the flower uses to avoid self-pollination. The version on the lower left was done with watercolor pencils only, connecting the opening bud that I'd drawn the day before to the upper flower.

By the fifth day, the flower was completely spent: the tepals had turned brown and were falling off. Such is the short-lived glory of a magnolia flower!

I read that this hybrid variety of magnolia was bred as a cross between Magnolia acuminata and Magnolia Denudata. M. acuminata is our native Cucumber magnolia from the Appalachian area, one of the largest trees of the American species. M. denudata is an Asian tree known as the Yulan magnolia. My tree has grown to about seven feet or eight in height and canopy, in time it should eventually reach 12 to 15 feet in size, perhaps a bit more. It's a lovely tree even if the flowers often get frost-bitten!