Poison Ivy

We grow some serious poison ivy here on Winterberry Farm. Not purposefully of course, but it seems to favor the soils, air, and moisture on our land.










Some of the plants are the orangutans of the vine world. The orangutan, though, is a much more gentle forest creature compared to poison ivy. The leaves, stems, fruits, flowers, wood, and those copious red root hairs all can cause a nasty, itchy rash, red bumps, and blisters.

Some people say they get a rash just by looking at the plant. But, only direct contact with the plant can cause the irritation, when the oil is absorbed into the skin. Poison ivy (Toxicodendron radicans), along with poison sumac and poison oak, contains urushiol oil, a sticky, resinous substance that remains active even on dead plants or even becomes airborne from lawnmowing, trimming, or burning.

Now I always say that I rarely get poison ivy. I work in and around it a lot (clearing brush -- really). When I come inside after such a day, I wash well with warm water and soap. This has worked well for me. On a rare occasion I will break out in a small rash, for that I use calamine lotion. Still, I wouldn't go hug a tree with one of those thick vines. I like the saying "hairy vine, no friend of mine."

Some recent research indicates that poison ivy does better under increased CO2 levels. Just great. I am not in favor of torture, but I could envision some pleasure seeing climate change skeptics spend time barefoot in a patch of glistening poison ivy. For the rest of us, remember -- "leaves of three, let them be."

A Season of Buds

Each day Bella and I walk in the back forty along the field edges, to Winterberry Pond, and back through the woods. Bella searches out her treasures -- special smells, an old piece of bone, dried somethings -- while I find my treasures in the emerging buds of our woodland shrubs and trees. The pace of new bud emergence is quickening as the days grow longer and warmer. The magic in each bud unfolds before my eyes, a set of leaves or flowers pushing out like a newborn bird breaking free of its egg.

Buds of the week

Butternut buds still holding tight

Copper-colored beech buds sharp as a spear

Lilac flowers peaking out

Highbush blueberry buds perch like Christmas
ornaments along their red stems

The fresh young crabapple leaves stretch toward the sun

Welcome Home

When you have lived in a house since 1957, you are anxious to get home, especially after spending the last two weeks in a hospital and a rehab center. Welcome home Mom!

Mom said today though that when they first moved here she wasn't too keen on the place; it was "a port in a storm." Not many options at the time and the old salt box was a bit run down.

Since then, our house -- this house where I was raised and spent 18 years before going to college -- has been worked on bit by bit. Some time during elementary school days I had to help scrape salvaged bricks with a wire brush that were used in restoring the fireplaces. I don't recall that as a particularly fun after school activity, though the results were nice. There was a flourish in the last five years restoring the shed and garage and barn. Dad found a wonderful local carpenter, who he worked side by side with day after day.


The house still has uneven floors with wide pine boards, steep stairs to the second floor, and a few other features that remind you of its 1762 vintage. For us kids, these features seem a little daunting for our Mom who will continue rehab at home after hip surgery. But our parents know the place by feel. They can make their way in the dark from the second floor bedroom, down the stairs, to the bathroom, and back again. Talk about a sense of place.

For a while Mom will stay on the first floor, while she strengthens legs and arms. No doubt she will mount those steep steps again one day.

Red Maple at Dawn

A tall, spreading red maple stands at the edge of the

fields and wetlands, back lit by the morning sun.

At dawn each day a male cardinal perches near the top, soaking up the sun's first morning rays and singing over his domain. A pheasant crows from the grassy field and a killdeer calls out its own name from a freshly plowed field.

Later in the day, a red-tailed hawk sits in nearly the same spot in the red maple,

preening and looking out over the fields for a meal.

Red maple is the most common woodland tree on the farm, followed by black cherry and sugar maple. Last summer my dad used a chain saw to cut down some of the cherry, which my sister then used for stairs in her new house.

A smattering of white pine, red oak, shagbark hickory, hemlock, and white ash are mixed in with the maples and cherry. The forest is different today. Much of the sugar maple was cut many years ago and the elm and chestnut succumbed to disease. Several beautiful butternuts still grace the yard. These will be the story of another day.

The day started sunny and calm, although with a chill. By mid-morning a cold wind roared in and changed the feel of the day. This did nothing to dampen the Easter egg hunt for my two nieces in the backyard.

Winterberry Farm

I arrived here at Winterberry Farm, our family place in Amherst, Massachusetts, on Sunday. Gray skies, rain, and wind have dogged the area since my arrival. Patches of blue sky emerge now and then, and there is a hint that the weather is warming and improving in coming days.

Spring colors are emerging.
The woods are a red hue as red maple buds burst open in flower.

Splashes of color brighten the woodland understory.
Skunk cabbages are unfurling in the hillside seeps.

Tiny yellow spicebush buds cheer on the spring awakening.

Mom's favorite primrose is in full bloom in the perennial garden,

along with the lungwort.

I'll print this post for my mother so she can read it while in rehab after she cracked her femur in a fall last week. She now has some replacement parts in her hip and is on her way to recovery so she can come home to her flowers and old salt box at Winterberry Farm. Dad and I visit daily and are amazed at her progress. We hope to spring her soon!

Noteworthy News

My mother (one of my biggest blog fans and lover of shrews) broke her femur this week during a fall. She had surgery last night for 2 to 3 hours; the surgeon replaced the head of the femur on her right leg with an aritificial ball that is now hooked into her femur and pelvic bone. Soon after the surgery she was moved back to her room at 11:00 pm last night, still groggy, but my dad was able to see her and then head home for a good nights rest. I just spoke with her and the doctors already had her stand on her left (good) leg briefly and rotated her right leg a bit, which is in a cloth-like cast. While lying in bed now she is to focus on exercising her muscles -- rotating both ankles and moving her arms. For lunch she had milk, coffee, applesauce, pudding, and ice cream! She is in good spirits and doing darn well at 87. She will have lots of stories to tell about all the doctors, nurses, and the things that were done to her. Likely in a few days she will be moved to a rehab center closer to home.

........ So, in a few more days my natural wanderings and blog stories will shift to a new location for a while as I visit my mom and help out at home. There will be lots to see and write about on Winterberry Farm in western Massachusetts.

First phoebe! The first phoebe of the year appeared yesterday. It landed on the bird feeder post (sans sunflower seed feeders), bobbing its tail, and eyeing the deck, under which it builds a nest each year. Seems like a later arrival than usual.

First mourning cloak! As is tradition, the first adult butterfly of the year in our neighborhood is a mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa) that I saw flitting about today under a warm April sun (nudging 60F!). These beautiful brownish-purple butterflies have a prominent light yellow band along the outer, ragged edge of the wings, and a row of iridescent blue spots just inside the yellow border. Mourning cloaks can live up to a year and overwinter as adults under tree bark, in cavities, and under eaves, just waiting for the first warm spring day to flex their wings again. Photo from University of Michigan Museum of Zoology.

A small plug for my website (ibiswildlife.com), which is now up and running (although a few tweaks still needed). Now I have to learn how to update it myself; seems a wee more complicated than using blogspot for this blog.

Take Down Your Feeder Day

Today is take down your bird feeder day here in New Hampshire. This is not April Fool's. Black bears are coming out of their dens by now and are hungry, having lost 25 to 40 % of their body weight while in their winter den. Sunflower seeds are so tasty for black bears, among other things that they might find in your yard - meat in compost piles, pet food, garbage left out overnight, scraps on a grill.

Seeing a black bear in your yard might be a cool thing, but if that bear gets into feeders and other people food it can become a nuisance bear. Nuisance bears do not live as long as other bears that stick to berries, beechnuts, grubs, ants, and other insects. But there is not much of the wild foods around this time of year so they go for the easy pickings. I heard that a bear once picked off some fresh blueberry pies from a cabin window. Some of their favorite spring food is fresh green growth -- skunk cabbage, jack in the pulpit, grasses and sedges. You can see why they might prefer a pie.

The population of black bears (our only bear) in New Hampshire is at 4,800 and stable. They've expanded statewide in the last few decades, along with other forest-dwelling animals, as forests continue to mature in the state. To keep the bears healthy and wild NH Fish and Game recommends the following:

• put feeders away by April 1
• clean up spilled birdseed
• avoid putting out garbage at night
• don't leave pet food outside at night
• avoid meat scraps in the compost pile
• clean and store grill after each use
• don't feed the bears
• don't have your picture taken with a bear (I added this one)

Oh, and don't forget to remove your ice fishing bobhouse from the ice today. If you haven't done it by now you are an April fool.