A New Blank Canvas

Herb in front of the new house

Now that we are settling into our new house and the high heat of summer is almost gone, it seemed time to tackle the garden. As you see, our new garden is pretty bare, and what little there is appears to be struggling to survive. No wonder--our neighbors had warned us that we were on a hillside of mostly shale and clay, with very little topsoil. I am finding out just how right they are--gardening here promises to be back-breaking work!

I have been consulting with the owners of Springtime Garden Center in Front Royal for landscaping help, and decided to start with a red maple tree for the left side of the house to give us a little afternoon shade. They recommended a fast-growing hybrid, 'Autumn Blaze,' and we've agreed they will come next week to plant it and deliver some new foundation plants (which we will plant ourselves to save a money), along with some good topsoil and mulch.

I think some cherry laurels under the dining room windows in the central section where the gable is would look nice, but that requires moving the existing plants, some stunted Japanese hollies. This past week after work I toiled removing a patch of weedy grass that was there behind the hollies. Yesterday it was time to start moving the hollies. I noticed that a couple of hollies in the bed to the left of the garage were dead, so I removed those and began expanding the holes to receive the other hollies.

 The soil was incredibly hard and rocky, even after a wetting from the morning rain. I worked up quite a sweat breaking it up and mixing bags of good topsoil with some of the present mulch to move two bushes. Their root systems were shallow, but well spread out--I teased them out carefully so as not to damage the roots too much. I couldn't budge the other two hollies and was so tired by then, it was time to call it a day.

Herb saw me covered in dirt and sweat from head to toe when I came in to get a trash bag and snapped this photo, which I think says it all.  I really hope new growth will make the work worth while. The arrival of plentiful rain today seems a heavenly blessing.

In the meantime, the local wildlife makes itself known--here's a little lizard that likes to hang out on the porch among my potted plants--we've nicknamed him Izzy. I believe it's an eastern fence lizard.

And above is an enormous beetle Herb found on our driveway and photographed--we think it's an Eastern Hercules beetle--it's about 3'' long, and we've never seen anything like it before.

A New Home for Maza Studio

From the Front Porch, watercolor, 5" x 10"

Maza Studio blog has been off-line for the last few months while Herb and I were busy selling our house in Maryland and relocating to Virginia. It was hard going there for a while. Our Columbia house sold much quicker than we had expected, sending us scrambling to buy a new house pronto. The areas west of where I work in Chantilly seemed our best bet for something that was affordable, and eventually we found a foreclosure in Front Royal that we bid on--we were the high bidders and got the contract.

Moving is always such a bother--so much stuff to pack! Even shedding the few paintings that friends took on, the old piano which my sister took, and pitching out a good bit, our household goods added up to over 12,000 pounds in weight. The closing on our new house was delayed for several days because the foreclosue documents couldn't be found, and we had to have everything put in storage while we lived in a hotel for several days. On Thursday the proper documents turned up and we were able to close that afternoon, but it was too late in the day to move, so we had to wait until the following day.

Heavy rains were predicted for the afternoon on moving day, and our movers got here so late in the day, I was sure it would be a disaster, but mercifully, the rains held off until the evening after everything was inside the house. Then the skies opened up and it poured! Herb and I went out to dinner under a tremendous downpour--we hadn't had a bite to eat all day. It was wonderful to see the copious rain after such a dry spell, especially when it was so well-timed.

Now that we have finally moved into our new home in Front Royal in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley, this is what the view from our front porch looks like. I painted this little watercolor last Sunday on a rainy afternoon. The first range of the Blue Ridge Mountains forms a lovely backdrop looking to the east from our hilltop.

Nowadays as I leave for work in the mornings the mountains are veiled in fog, and layers of mist sit on the farm fields at dawn, looking lovely with the rising sun. As we get settled into our new house, I hope to once again get back into my weekly paintings and postings. There's much to paint here in the Shenandoah, and many new places to explore.

Standing beside Ray Bradbury signing at a bookstore in Albuquerque, Sept. 1999.

During the months I was in Santa Fe doing my first artist-in-residence gig, I read in the paper that Ray Bradbury was visiting the area. He had spoken at a book signing in Los Alamos the day before. The article mentioned that he was scheduled to be at a bookstore in Albuquerque signing the next day. Herb's birthday was coming up and this seemed like the perfect gift--a copy of The Martian Chronicles and anything else signed by his childhood hero. I just had to drive down and get this, so next day I zipped down I-25 for the signing--there was a huge crowd there--who'd have thought the old guy still had such a following, in Albuquerque of all places? Anyway, I ended up being #113 in line, and patiently waited my turn with a pre-printed slip to write in the name of the person to dedicate the book to, "Herb." I asked one of the delighted store clerks (sales were brisk) to take a photo of me with Ray to include with my gift. You will be missed, Ray Bradbury, R. I. P.

Field Sketches

Arum italicum

Arum Study, pencil & color

Last Saturday in our botanical art class we continued learning about how to identify plants, their parts, and how to create field studies of them. In the afternoon, (it was a gorgeous day), we went out on the classroom grounds at McCrillis Gardens to practice. The idea was to do a quick gesture sketch of the entire plant to give an idea of its habit, then fill some of the details, making notes on color. Next, look closely at the flower and analyze it, drawing it so that all its parts can be seen clearly.

I selected this arum species because their curious flowering structure, called a spathe, caught my eye. They were all over the understory, edging other plantings.

Last fall when we were studying leaves in Drawing 102, the vein patterns of the leaves and their curling edges appealed to me, and I did several  sketches of these, so the leaves were already familiar, but I had no idea about the particular species of arum. I later searched on-line and found it is called Italian Arum.

To examine the flower, I found another specimen that was a bit more developed than the first one photographed above, and cut apart the papery hood to reveal the curious details inside. The female flowers at the bottom of the shaft appeared to have been fertilized and were developing into seeds. It seemed likely that the middle bump of small grains were the male flowers, but what about the ring with long hairs above it? That was a bit of a mystery, so later I went on-line to research.

According to Wikipedia, the upper ring of hairs functions as a trap for insects. The pollinators are beetles or other crawling insects which are attracted to the spadix (the club-shaped organ) by its odor of decay and temperature several degrees warmer than the ambient. The insects get dusted with pollen and when they escape they take the pollen to another spadix, ensuring cross-pollination. The purplish color at the bottom of the spathe has the tinge of carrion, another good indicator about the kind of insect pollinators.

At the bottom left of my sketch is the further developed fruit of the Arum, again found on another specimen nearby. Here the spadix has almost rotted away as the stem grows into a pineapple-like fruit. The seeds will turn red when ripe, much like the seeds of Jack-in-the-pulpit.

We were instructed to collect parts of the flower and seeds and preserve them by sealing them under transparent packing tape. We are to include these with our finished drawing. In my case these specimens were so bulky that I was only able to put them under tape by pasting them onto a piece of paper. Unfortunately, this did not seal them completely and my specimens have already lost their color. I had included some color notes with color pencils on my sketch. That may have to do unless I can collect some new specimens and seal them better. I may yet go back to McCrillis to do just that.

It's all so fascinating!

The Secret Sex Life of Ladyslippers

Yellow Ladyslipper in Virginia Forest

Yesterday my friend Linda and I went out to hike at the Thompson Wildlife Management Area in Virginia. This is one of the richest places in our area for spring wildflowers, and one particular portion, with its spectacular display of Trillium grandiflora that extends for acres, is known as the Trillium Trail (previous postings about it here and  here ).

We hadn't visited the Trillium Trail for a couple of years, and with this year's unusually warm spring putting our season two weeks ahead of a normal year, I was fairly sure the trillium display would be over by now.

We found some fading trillium flowers in small patches here and there (the white flowers turn pink as they age), but the main reason I wanted to make the trek was to find some yellow ladyslipper orchids for my botanical studies. The yellow ladyslipper seems to be prospering at this site, and my impression is that each year I've visited there are more flowers to be found.

I'd brought my sketchbook and pocket magnifier to make some field sketches of the flower's reproductive parts, but what exactly these were in this species, and in orchids in general, I wasn't really sure. I hoped direct observation would help clear up the mystery.

All flowers need pollinators to set seed, and orchids have evolved some of the most unusual strategies to accomplish this. Some orchids mimic bees or moths to attract specific pollinators, but in the case of the ladyslipper, the pouch forms a trap for the insect. The flowers produce nectar to attract the insect, presumably some kind of bee small enough to fit through the opening. In order to get out, the insect must crawl up towards that small protuberance you see in the photo, called the staminoide. Under the staminoide you can barely see two tiny pollen sacs, the anthers, which will drop their pollen on the insect to transfer it onto the stigma.

 I was lucky to find some decaying flowers where these parts were clearly visible. I was also fascinated to learn from my on-line research that the seeds have a very tough outer covering and need the help of mycorrhizal fungi to germinate and get nourishment during the early part of their life cycle. No wonder they are flourishing here--there is plenty of fungi all over this forest.

The young corm may not develop a true leaf for several years, but as it develops into a rhizome and produces more leaves, eventually it will no longer depend on the fungi. A plant may take up to sixteen years to produce its first flower, but they are long-lived plants.

I'll want to come back in mid-summer to see what the seed pods look like, and how many of the flowers have set seed. The secret sex life of these lovely orchids is fascinating!

Botanica Exhibition

African Violet II, watercolor, 9" x 12."

I was surprised and pleased to learn that my two entries have been accepted to this year's Botanica, the exhibition of artwork presented by students and teachers at Brookside Gardens' School of Botanical Illustration. This year's exhibition will take place from May 19 through July 6 at Brookside Gardens Visitor's Center.

Now I'll have to get my pieces framed (another expense I hadn't planned on!) but I'm used to it --art is an expensive if rewarding mistress.

Spring Green at Jug Bay

Spring Greens at Jug Bay, oils on linen panel, 9" x 12."

Yesterday I had signed up to go on a hike with the Maryland Native Plant Society. This was to be a hike to see the big trees at Jug Bay Wetlands Sanctuary and check their statistics against previous years' records. I was really curious to learn how these big tree statistics are recorded and kept, and which kinds of big trees are found in this natural area.

It was a beautiful spring day, and I was ready to spend some time enjoying the outdoors. The hike was scheduled for the morning, from 10 AM to noon. Since Jug Bay is a long drive from home, I decided to take a sandwich and my plein air kit, intending to stay after the hike and paint in the afternoon.

That turned out to be providential--I was about ten minutes late, and when I arrived at the agreed upon meeting place, I found a hand-written sign saying the hike had been cancelled because no one had signed up. Actually, two of us had. No problem--more time for me to paint. I went to the visitors' center to check out the trails and views.

There is a viewing platform on a bluff behind the visitors' center overlooking the marsh. From there I could see a pair of ospreys fussing over a nest about 50 yards out. The male swooped down and scooped up a fish to take to his lady love who was cleaning out the nest. Looking down I saw a narrow boardwalk by the water and some Pinxter azaleas blooming. I took the trail to the boardwalk to check the view from there and the marsh looked wonderful framed by the azalea blossoms. I saw lots of huge mountain laurel and high-bush blueberry plants down there too. The boardwalk was wee bit narrow, but wide enough for me to set up provided no one else needed to walk by.

I went back to my car, fetched my kit and trundled, heavy-laden, down the steep steps to the boardwalk. It was breezy, but not so windy that my easel was in danger of blowing into the muck. I set up, trying to leave as much room as possible to walk by, but in order for anyone to pass me, I had to move out of the way and ask them to be very careful to not knock my easel into the water. Sure enough, while I was setting up and getting started several groups of hikers, some families with small children, showed up and needed to be let by. I checked my watch as the last group went by--twelve thirty! And I was only half-way done. Lunch could be eaten later, I wanted to finish my little painting before the light changed completely.

Fortunately, the day was becoming more overcast, and the shadows softened. I reoriented my easel to keep the glare off my painting and kept on working. No more hikers came after that. I checked my watch again as I was finishing-- two o'clock. How is it that time goes by so quickly when one is so absorbed? I started to pack up my kit, taking a few photos of myself on location first so you could all see my set-up (Guerrilla painter 9" x 12" box) on the boardwalk.

After packing up I walked down the boardwalk with my gear over to the other end, where I found a convenient bench overlooking the water, and had a late lunch there. I took in the osprey who had settled down on her nest by then, the one azalea bush that overhung the water--I had no idea they grew so close to water--and other interesting plants nearby. I took photos of some of them to identify later, and decided to call it a day. This is the first time I've gone out to paint plein air since our vacation in February, and the first time with oils since last fall. I'll have to try to do this more often now that nice weather is back.

Viola

Viola tricolor, watercolor, 12" x  9."

My latest class opus are these pansies. I bought a flat of six plants at Riverhill, our local garden center, to take to class. In the drawing I merged two plants to show a little of  the range of different colors and markings these hybrids sport. There is also one with ruffled orange flowers, and another all-blue double I may try to record before their season ends. I planted the pansies in the front flower bed after the painting was finished.