tangled, tortured, and beautiful

In a thatch of trailside brush today, two of these branches were sticking out about three feet higher than the tangle below them. They looked like Dr. Seussian, bobbing in the breeze and catching the early-spring sun. I believe this is what they call a witch’s broom gall. And while I didn’t think to inspect the source of the branches amongst all the knotted disorder, I am guessing it is willow because they are prone to these galls, and also because my trail edged a wetland. If you can, expand the image on the gall. It beautiful in it’s own way–a knot of tiny tortured branches and stunted leaves. Ohhh, I know, I am a weirdo. I can find beauty in a willow gall. What can I say?

unidentified branch with a witch’s broom gall (possibly willow)

like good lipstick

These staghorn sumac fruits have survived the winter, still holding onto most of their color. Staghorn sumac is in my top five. I keep coming back to it over and over. I  love the velvety stems, the compound pinnate leaves, and the way they the two-toned uppers and lowers flutter in the summer breeze. I love their unruly branching, and the way they form colonies that cover whole hillsides. I especially love their fall colors–always first, and always spectacular. I love the red seedheads of their fruit that start out a soft pinkish-green in summer and darken to bright red in autumn. And finally I love that those red staghorns remain all winter, catching the low-angle winter light,  looking like torches, and adding much appreciated color to our winter landscape. And they are native. Thank you sumac!

staghorn sumac seedheads (Rhus typhina)

the colors of spring are soft

I do like these soft colors of early spring, before there has been enough light to convert into energy and intensify the colors. Things are happening here in the North. But it is still subtle, and if you you’re not looking for it, you will miss it.  The only thing not hard to miss right now are the returning birds. My favorite naturalist, Larry Weber, says the birds are northing (a term I had never heard before). Eagles, osprey, hawks, owls, swans, geese, and crows are the easiest to spot right now. This afternoon, a bald eagle swept over our cattails and was making a noise I hadn’t heard before. When I looked it up, it was its mating call. Every day in spring is a delight.

unidentified early spring buds

every March…

Every March I get to the point where it starts to feel like spring, but it still looks like winter, and I turn to the house plants for a dose of green. Jade plants are easy to propagate, and indeed, this jade plant started as a tiny three-leaved clipping. It is now a hardy tree, about 2 feet in size. I put it outside on the front stoop last summer, and it thrived there–the central trunk growing thick and sturdy.  I will do the same this summer, and hoping for another foot or more of growth.  Jade plants make great bonsais. I can’t decide yet if I will prune this one ore just let it overwhelm the house some day. Hmmm…I am dreaming of green plants devouring the house…clearly I am ready for spring.

jade plant (Crassula ovata)

happy meteorological spring!

Today is the first day of meteorological spring. According to the National Weather Service, March-April-May is spring. According to the astronomical calendar, spring starts on the vernal equinox and goes to the summer solstice (March 21-June 21). And according to STILL seasonal calendar of the North, spring starts when the pussy willows burst. So this year, we started spring in February–one month earlier than normal. It may be a false start, although this week we will hit temps in 60s. So, maybe for the first time ever, we in the North will have a spring that aligns with the rest of the county. Today, while tidying my desk, I uncovered an old magazine with a post-it note on the cover that said ” leaves inside”. I let the pressed leaves fall onto my kitchen counter…and this is what fluttered out. The colors almost look spring-ish. I’m ready.

pressed autumn leaves