August Monsoon

Back yard during a thunderstorm.

 

After the prolonged drought of the past few months, August seems to be turning the tide with three powerful thunderstorms within one week, each dropping over an inch of rain. It's almost like the summer monsoons in the Southwest at this time of the year. Out there, the heat builds up during the day to give rise to huge thunderheads that drop incredible amounts of rain on the parched land.

The winds were so strong at the height of one of these storms, that our new cast aluminum bench (a corner of which shows on the lower right hand corner) got blown clear across from one side the deck to the other! The bench was originally by the railing all the way over to the left. Many of my houseplants summering on the deck were thrown off my new plant stands, some were even knocked clean out of their pots! Fortunately, the damage isn't permanent, they'll recover in a day or two.

 

Salvia 'Black and Blue'

Everything in my garden was looking pretty sad before the rains, but now everything is starting to revive. The Salvia guaranitica 'Black and Blue' just started to bloom. My Australian red lime has set some fruit, two nice-sized ones from the past winter and a few more this summer; I presume a change in color will indicate when the limes are ready to be harvested.

Australian red lime.

The deer decimated so many plants that I don't have much in the way of seasonal flowers such as the usual black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia)--this year's display is quite poor compared to last year's. 

 

Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia 'Goldsturm')

Impatiens in the front bed.

I planted these red and white Impatiens in the front bed after the Narcissus leaves began to dry and wither, but either deer or rabbits ate the Impatiens, so there 's not as much coverage as I'd hoped for. With the recent rains, these may yet grow fuller before the end of the season.

Herb's bed and the Little Indians

 

Every year I strip the early buds from the Chrysanthemums, but they still end up blooming much too early. This year I didn't touch the buds at all, and as you can see, the mums, the yellow ones in particular, are starting to bloom right now. The zinnias are still going strong too--I'll definitely be planting more next year, now that I know deer won't bother them.

 

'Benary's Giant' zinnias.

Great blue Lobelias (Lobelia syphillitica)

 My great blue Lobelias have started to put on their annual show--this location seems to be to their liking and they multiply more each year. The 'Pink Posie' Pentstemons under the 'Amber Ghost' Japanese maple are also blooming well this year. The Caryopteris 'Longwood Blue,' on the other hand, seem to have suffered greatly from the drought, and don't have many flowers, at least thus far.

 

'Pink Posie' Pentstemons.

Caryopteris 'Longwood Blue' in bed behind 'Pink Posie" Pentstemons.

 

I can only hope that the rains will continue and the fall blooming season won't be as disappointing as the summer has been.

The Cowpasture River

The Cowpasture River, watercolor, 10"h x 14"w.

 

During my artist residency at the Red House, I really wanted to take a dip in the Cowpasture River, a beautiful stretch of this river flows through Amanda's farm. The Cowpasture is one of Virginia's cleanest rivers, and one of the sources of the much larger James River that flows through Richmond and so much of our state's history.

I explored many other places in the area before finally getting around to painting the Cowpasture River. The Sunday before a tremendous thunderstorm struck. I later heard that the rain fell at a rate of two inches an hour! The river rose so high that three of Amanda's beach chairs were swept downstream, never to be found again! 

The following Sunday afternoon, with more normal water levels, I felt it was safe to explore the river. The water was a bit colder than I had expected, so I settled for just wading rather than full immersion, and then started my painting. 

 

The Cowpasture River.

The afternoon was very warm, and soon the shade moved so that I was in the full sun, trying to shade the painting with my body. Somehow, the paper in my sketchbook (it was the last blank sheet) didn't seem to be working as usual--my washes were covered with specks all over, and the paper wasn't absorbing the water normally. Could it be that tree sap or debris on the surface was making the paper act differently? I couldn't explain it, but I was having the hardest time trying to get the paint to cover the paper.

I was about to give up and call it a day, when it occurred to me, why not lay down the darkest wash I could over the trees and shadows, and then go back in to lift out the lighter branches? This change of approach really helped, although the near foliage became a bit more blueish-green than I had intended. There was nothing to do but go with it, and echo the same shades for the shadows on the water. The result is a painting with lots of mood and mystery, which I really like.

Painting on Amanda's little beach.

Amanda loved the painting too, so I've agreed to give it to her. A few days later, I painted another one for myself. This one is in a new sketchbook, which has a different brand of paper. It handles differently from the paper in my old sketchbook.

The Cowpasture River II, watercolor, 14" x 10"

This second painting has a very different mood--sunny and bright, more open. The clump of trees overhanging the water isn't as dominant, and doesn't influence the mood as much as in the first painting. Amanda came by and took this photo of me as I was finishing the painting.

The Cowpasture River is such a lovely place! I hope to visit it again soon.

Mid-Summer Garden Ho-hums

Hydrangeas in the east garden.

 

My garden was sadly neglected during my absence while I was at the Red House in June. It was very dry and so hot that despite Herb's tender ministrations, the weather and creatures have taken their toll on many plants this summer. The deer ate just about everything in sight: my roses, daylilies, the shrub Clematis, the Calendula seedlings. Even plants they'd not bothered with previously were chomped down, like my Rudbeckias and even the black cotton growing in pots on the front walk!

Hydrangea 'Tiny Tough Stuff' and gladiolus

Fortunately, deer don't eat hydrangeas or they would have gone after these too. This year my hydrangeas have bloomed better than ever before, despite the drought. I've been watering them whenever they showed signs of wilting, but I attribute the blooms to not cutting back the stems in early spring. I learned that both the lace cap and the Macrophylla types bloom on old wood, so I didn't prune them at all this spring. Not having any late frosts also helped, I'm sure. In any case, this is the first year that the lacecap hydrangea has produced more than one or two flowers. The flowers of both of the formerly blue hydrangeas are pink, indicating the soil is still alkaline, despite yearly treatments of soil acidifier. The new hydrangea 'Tiny Tought Stuff' is proving to be very floriferous.

Lacecap hydrangea.

The Asian lilies have finished blooming, and the daylilies' buds were eaten so quickly I didn't get a chance to see many flowers this year. Right now the Little Indians bed has very little in the way of color--a scattering of phlox flowers and towards the back, the white hibiscus and the butterfly bush.

The Little Indians bed.

Hibiscus and butterfly bush in the Little Indians bed.

 

Herb's bed has a little bit of color, and hopefully will have more as we get closer to fall. At the moment only the red Crocosmia 'Lucifer' are accented by the blue Centaureas. The perennial red salvia I planted this spring (on the right) finally produced its first spike of blossoms, and more should follow.

Herb's bed.

The cone flowers in the back bed continue to multiply; they blossomed well this year, although the flowers are now a bit past it. The goldfinches are starting to come around to check out the flower heads--I expect to see them gorging on the seeds in a week or two. I've been looking for some good companion plantings for this bed--I think it needs more variety and texture. 

I put in a plant of a red bee balm and one of a baby's breath, but thus far neither has prospered much (the deer ate back the bee balm). The dry soil here may be one problem, but deer are the biggest one. I must find some truly deer-resistant plants for this spot that is so prone to their depredations. So many of the plants advertised as being deer-resistant are anything but--there's nothing else but to try out some new plants here and see how they perform.

Coneflowers.

The current star of the garden is the bed of zinnias I planted this spring. The zinnias haven't filled out completely yet, but there's a nice variety of colors in the Benary's Giant mix I purchased. The deer don't seem to go for zinnias at all, so they've been spared, while the four o'clocks right next to them have been so badly chewed back I don't know if I'll get any blossoms out of them before the first frost comes this fall..

Benary's Giant zinnias

Pink zinnias

Orange zinnias

I'd forgotten how lovely these zinnias are, how easy and fun to grow. The bright colors of  these flowers are hard to beat!

Pink-striped Oakworm Moths

Pink Striped Oakworm Moths

 

A few years ago on a morning after a big thunderstorm, I found an unusual moth on the screen of the sliding glass door to our deck--I'd never seen one like it before. I later identified it as a female pink-striped oakworm moth (Anisota virginensis pellucida). It belongs to the silk moth family, and is quite common in the eastern half of the U.S. and the south.

The moth on the screen did not move for a long time--eventually I presumed it was dead, so I scooped it up for my collection of insects that I use as models for some of my botanical pieces. After a week I checked on the moth to discover that it had laid eggs after I put it in my box. Apparently it had not been dead when I picked it up!

So, when I found another female pink-striped oakworm moth on the same sliding glass door last week, I pointed it out to Herb and left it alone. About an hour later, Herb yelled out that I had to come downstairs to look at something. Imagine my surprise to find that a male pink-striped oakworm moth was in the process of mating with the female on the glass door!

From the other side of the glass.

 

I ran to grab my phone and camera, but had a hard time getting my camera to focus (I had the telephoto lens on it). I managed to get these few shots with my phone. Fascinating! Apparently when it's the right time to mate, the females secrete pheromones and position themselves so that the males can find them easily, usually early in the morning.

The moths mate quickly, at least that's what I've read, but these two stayed joined together for the rest of the day. At one point they both fell onto the deck, but somehow managed to climb back up on the glass door. Towards evening I was afraid that they would become trapped and squashed by the sliding screen when we opened and closed the glass door to go out on the deck, so I put a paper underneath them, scooped them up and gently laid both of them, still joined, on the plant stand nearby. 

 

 

The next morning they were both gone--I presume the female flew to one of the oak trees in back to lay her eggs, and the male flew away probably to die soon after. I feel privileged to have gotten this fascinating glimpse into nature's secret workings. Now I need to come up with a painting where I can illustrate these lovely moths and the oaks that host their larva. Perhaps I may run into some of the caterpillars later on. The life cycle of this silk moth would make a wonderful painting!

Featured in Artie's Eight

Young Pippin Apples, watercolor, 14" x 11"

I'm pleased to announce to my readers that this month my interview is featured in "Artie's Eight" on the website Frame Destination, and here is a link to the feature:

From Cuba With Love

Artie's Eight interviews artists by asking all the questions people want to know about us: what inspires us, how we got started, what our formative experiences were, the obstacles and how we overcome them, in short, what makes us artists tick.

I hope you enjoy it and share it with your friends!

A Wild Turkey in My Garden

 

A wild turkey in my garden

On the morning of the 4th of July I glanced out my window and saw a small head with a bill poking out of the ornamental grasses on the flower bed on the east side of the house. My first thought was--nah--it must be a trick of the light, and yet, could it possibly be a duck? Had any of our neighbors acquired a pet duck recently, had it escaped? 

A second, longer look revealed that it was not a duck, it was actually a turkey! A wild turkey, to be precise. Our yard backs up to a patch of woods, so this wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. Several years ago during one early morning commute when I was still working, I almost ran into a wild turkey crossing the 4-lane highway about a mile and a half from our house, so wild turkeys can definitely roam around our area.

 

Wild turkey hen and chick

I ran to get my camera, change to the telephoto lens and station myself on the deck, to see if I could get a shot or two of the turkey. I saw that the poor turkey was moving very slowly--she was limping, barely able to put weight on one leg--and imagine my surprise to see a chick following her!

I wondered if there was anything I could do to help her, but decided against the idea. Trying to trap her and the chick would probably be more traumatic to both than the injury she'd already sustained. It was best to leave them alone, and hope she and the chick would be able to survive on their own.

Wild turkey and chick

I took more photos of them as they moved slowly across my next door neighbor's yard, until they both disappeared down the hill into the woods once again. The entire episode lasted maybe five or six minutes. I think they had been eating the seeds from the Columbines in my flower bed, or perhaps it was grass seeds--I'm glad they were able to take refuge in my garden for a little while.

 

Wild turkey and chick going back into the woods.

I wonder if we'll see any more wild turkeys around here any time soon. Odd that it should happen on the 4th of July--it brought to mind that Ben Franklin had proposed that the wild turkey be our national bird, but he was out-voted and the bald eagle was chosen instead.

Elleber Ridge

Tiger swallowtail butterfly on flame azalea flowers.

 

The day after my hike to the Dan Ingalls Overlook Trail  I had planned to go with Amanda's friend Charles on a plant finding expedition. Charles Garratt is a well-known photographer and native orchid aficionado who has located and documented an amazing variety of hard-to-find orchids in Bath County and neighboring areas.

Charles was very kind to offer to drive me around and show me some botanical sites; we agreed on exploring a botanical site known as Elleber ridge, on the state line between Virginia and West Virginia, where we might find some orchids in bloom at this time of the year.

 

The bathhouses in Warm Springs

The Warm Springs gazebo by the bathhouses.

We agreed to meet in Warm Springs and ride north to Highland County, which I'd never visited before. The ride through the fields and forests bordering the Jackson river was lovely, everything looked so lush and green with all the recent rain. Highland County is the least populated county in our state, known to me primarily for its sugar maple syrup production. Charles told me that raising cattle was currently topping the list for economic activity here.

 

Wild columbines in Highland County.

 

As we passed open fields heading into the mountains, we saw lovely Columbine flowers along the roadsides, and Charles remarked that some botanists believe these may be a different species of Aquilegia than the ordinary A. canadensis, because they seem to bloom all summer long and are taller than usual. I guess only DNA studies could determine if it is a different species or simply a variant.

At the top of the mountain was the entrance to the Elleber Ridge area, and as we made our way down a steep forest service road, we crossed a stream and several ravines. Charles kept a sharp eye for  unusual vegetation by the roadside. Deep in the woods he stopped at a place where there were several pieces of heavy machinery--it appeared that the forest service was getting ready to cut down a stand of Virginia pine for timber.

 

Padleaf orchid (Platanthera orbiculata)

In the shade of the pines by a small creek we found many orchids growing among thick stands of fern: quite a few pink lady slippers (Cypripedium acaule) were still in bloom here, and some padleaf orchids (Platanthera orbiculata) in bud were getting ready to bloom. We took lots of photos of these and other lovely woodland flowers. What a shame that heavy equipment was about to destroy this wonderful orchid refuge! If I'd had a place to keep some of these orchids alive, I would have rescued them right on the spot! Alas, if they manage to survive the timbering operation, it may take many years for this population to recover.

 

Pink ladyslipper orchid (Cypripedium acaule)

Pink ladyslippers

Mountain woodsorrel (Oxalis montana)

 

Flame azalea (Rhododendron calendulaceae)

After that stop, we pulled up by a thicket of Flame azaleas and mountain laurels. The Flame azaleas were absolutely irresistible! Even the butterflies couldn't leave them alone! 

White monkshood (Aconitum reclinatum)

We also found white monkshood in bud, and a maple in bloom--I later confirmed it was mountain maple (Acer spicatum)--it's unusual to see a maple flowering this late in the season. This small understory tree's normal range is much farther north, it's only found in the higher elevations of the Appalachian Mountains. An enormous pipevine twined into the top parts of a tree overhanging the stream where we ate our lunch.

 

Pipevine (Aristolochia macrophylla)

The drive back through the town of Monterey and Rte. 220 was very scenic. It was early evening by the time we got back to Warm Springs, when Charles said he had one more site to show me. Earlier we had talked about shale barrens, and their unusual native vegetation, and he now surprised me by driving through the town of Hot Springs down to the sewage treatment station. Right across from this was a sheer wall of rock facing southwest--a shale barren!

A shale barren near Hot Springs.

Clematis viticaulis in shale barren

Clematis viticaulis in shale barren.

Charles had talked about two of our native clematises that grew in this inhospitable habitat: Clematis viticaulis and Clematis albicoma. Here were some clematises with their characteristic seedheads, at least one, possibly both species! There were also butterfly weed (Asclepias) in bloom, the native Sedum ternatum, and in the rock undercuts, some spleenworts (I believe these are Asplenium trichomanes).

 

Sedum ternatum in shale barren

Spleenwort in shale barren (Asplenium trichomanes)

The summer temperatures in these shale barrens can reach up to 180 degrees, and the vertical slopes drain quickly, making this environment very hot and dry. The plants that live are able to adapt to these extremes. 

I enjoyed the day and the company to the max: it's not often that I get to see and photograph so many plants new to me, in such amazing settings, and talk to such a fascinating plant aficionado! I'm hoping to acquire some of these clematises native to the shale barrens, to see if they will grow in my garden--I'm sure there are some dry, hot spots that might provide just the right conditions for them, if I can only find the drainage they need.