Early Spring Flowers

Crocus flowers.

The first warm days of March this week brought my crocuses into full bloom. It seems there are three distinct varieties: the pale lilac Crocus thommasinianus, a deep purple variety and a scattering of feathered lilac ones. The last two were part of a mixed crocus assortment I planted there during our first fall here--as I recall, there originally were some yellow ones in this mix, but somehow, the yellows seem to have died out. With so many voles and squirrels that like to eat them, it's hard to keep these bulbs growing from year to year--the yellow ones must have been the tastiest.

Bees love the Crocus thommasiniannus

The C. thommasinianus seem to be the least palatable ones to the rodents, so they have reproduced and are forming nice clumps under the cherry tree in front. The flowers are a-buzz with bees during the sunny afternoon.

Feathered lilac crocuses on the right, and C. thommasinianus on the left

Journal sketch

And of course, I had to sketch a few for my journal. The 'February Gold' daffodils have also opened in the last days. The lavender growing behind it was starting to overtake them and had to be pruned back quite a bit. These will probably need to be divided this coming fall, so I'll have to decide where else I can tuck some of these beauties to advantage.

Daffodil 'February Gold'

It's so wonderful to see green shoots coming up everywhere! I'm hoping my yellow magnolia will have the chance to bloom without blighting frosts this year.

The Spotted Mandarin

Spotted Mandarin (Prosartes maculata)

Yellow Mandarin (Prosartes lanuginosa)

I'm finally getting the opportunity to work on my painting the Spotted Mandarin (Prosartes maculata). The genus Prosartes, of which there are two species, the Yellow Mandarin (Prosartes lanuginosa) and the Spotted Mandarin or Nodding Mandarin, are members of the lily family which are perennial woodland plants native to the Appalachian region. I saw them for the first time a few years ago during a trip to southwestern Virginia with the Virginia Native Plant Society (VNPS). The Spotted Mandarin is considered rare in Virginia, but not yet endangered.

Inked pencil drawing

Working from my photos, I developed a drawing of two flowering sprigs--one stem with two flowers, and another stem with a single flower. On the stem with the two flowers on the left, you may notice there is a tiny object on the stem just below the clump of leaves. This was a curious thing observed in the field: it mimics a dried leaf so convincingly that one of our team had to point out to me that it was actually an insect, a moth to be precise. I took a close-up shot using my camera's macro setting.

Unidentified leaf mimic moth

I've been fascinated by this tiny moth, and have been trying to identify it--after going through a number of insect identification sites my best guess is that it's a type of Sphinx moth, but I've not been able to find the genus or species. Nevertheless, I wanted to include the details of the moth in my painting, in order to add more interest to the composition with a likely pollinator for the flowers.

Once my inked drawing was transferred to the paper, I used masking fluid on the edges and veins--practicing the Pastoriza techniques learned last fall--and after the mask was thoroughly dry, began laying very light washes of color.

Spotted Mandarin - Step 1

With a gradual build up of colors, the shapes of the flowers and leaves begin to emerge. The white flowers are so pale and delicate, it's a challenge to articulate the tepals and other parts. The veining of the leaves is quite distinctive too, with a sort of puckered pattern. The entire plant is covered with fine hairs, most noticeable on the stems.

Spotted Mandarin - Step 2

Spotted Mandarin - Step 5

I still have a number of things to do before the piece is finished. Perhaps before it's complete, I may have the identity of the mystery moth.

A Venus Flytrap For My Windowsill Collection

Sketchbook page: My Windowsill Collection, 10" x 8".

One of my habits (which my husband finds charmingly eccentric, so much so that he now joins me in this eccentricity) is to collect curious odds and ends on my nature walks--objects such as dried seed pods, twigs, mushrooms, a tiny bird's nest, a shed snakeskin--for future study and perhaps sketching. These objects are displayed on my studio windowsill (and his office), making for some interesting conversation pieces, and some find their way into my paintings before they disintegrate.

A few weeks ago, while it was snowing and outside temperatures were in the single digits, I sat down with my sketchbook to try out ways to render one of my favorite little treasures: a skeletonized daylily seedpod. Every year I find dozens of these from my Stella d'Oro daylilies and collect the best ones; the lacy veins are just beautiful!

My first try in watercolor didn't work quite the way I had hoped, so I switched to colored pencils to try again. That version proved more successful, so I moved onto one of the mushrooms that had dried and become mummified on the windowsill.

I have several of these dried mushrooms of various sizes, the spores under the caps of these all have settled into very unusual patterns as they dried. I'm not sure this drawing of the small mushroom quite communicates. The geometric spore patterns are seen in the larger mushroom on the right, a more satisfying rendering. The colors all reflect the neutral tones of the season.

Venus Flytrap (Dionea muscipula) colored pencil sketch, 4" x 5"

About a week ago while I was shopping at our local Lowe's I saw these tiny Venus Flytrap plants on sale, and on a whim, I bought one. My plant is very small, its rosette no larger than three and a half inches across. As a child, when I first heard about the Venus Flytrap, I had imagined--as many folks who have never seen one in real life and only know of it from horror movies--that it would be the size of a pineapple plant (growing up in the tropics I was familiar with this plant)--large enough to lure a small mammal into one of its traps. In reality, the plant is quite small, ants and spiders are its primary food source; flies or perhaps a small frog are about as large an animal as it can manage. Still, its fascinating carnivorous habit and the curious triggering mechanism of its traps has given the plant a strange mythical appeal ever since it was discovered in Colonial times. 

I saw and photographed quite a few Venus Flytrap plants on a botanical excursion to North Carolina's bogs a few years back. Those plants were lush and well-nourished, with rosettes some five to six inches across, and many were in bloom. The flowers are white with delicate green veining, and the top of the stalk is held well above the level of the leaves, so as not to trap its pollinators. 

Venus Flytrap flower

Venus Flytrap (Dionea muscipula) from North Carolina

Venus Flytraps are known to be difficult to grow, and I don't expect mine to last very long--I'm keeping in in a saucer filled with distilled water, since our water is so alkaline. But I'm hoping to get a painting of the Venus Flytrap done before my live model succumbs.

Pages from My Journal

Crocus developing buds, Feb. 3

This winter I've been forcing some crocus bulbs, and decided to record their development in my new art journal. On Feb. 3 I started sketching the elongating buds with colored pencils.

Crocus flower bud.

Two days later, I drew the same bulb (again in colored pencil) as the flower bud began to show.

Crocus flower bud opens.

A few days later, I again drew the same bulb, this time combining colored pencils with watercolor pencils, blending with water.

Crocus flower is open, new bud emerges.

A couple of days later, I again recorded the progress of the crocus bulb when the flower was open and a second bud was emerging, using the same colored pencils/watercolor pencils combination. I will continue to record the development of this crocus bulb and see where it leads...perhaps a small painting documenting the entire cycle of growth?

Portends of Spring

Forcing Crocuses Indoors.

Recently the famous groundhog in Pennsylvania, Punxsutawney Phil, came out of his burrow at sunrise and "didn't see his shadow" (huh? It was sunny in Virginia, one state away), portending that winter is about over. Considering the low temperatures were in the single digits all last week, I'm a bit skeptical about that, although in the afternoon temperatures rose to the upper forties and snow was melting.

But I can't deny that this morning as I was waking up, I heard a cardinal's call--it was 21 degrees outside. The cardinals are getting ready to nest--nothing unusual about that, cardinals normally nest about this time of the year and their eggs hatch some three weeks later.

Narcissus shoots emerging.

Better indicators of impending spring may be some of the plants in my yard: I noticed that the buds on my flowering quince were beginning to swell, and that the witch-hazels were in bloom.

Witch-hazel flowers (Hamamelis virginiana)