Woodland Wildflowers

In between pulling garlic mustard I walk the woodland trail to the pond. The skunk cabbages are expanding and more ferns are unfurling. Tucked in here and there are woodland wildflowers coming into bloom. Here are some of the trail side beauties.

Solomon's seal, Polygonatum pubescens

False solomon's seal, Smilacina racemosa

Wood anemone, Anemone quinquefolia


Nodding trillium, Trillium cernuum

Pulling Some Gs

This week I am pulling some serious Gs, garlic mustard that is. We have a terrible infestation of this invasive herbaceous plant on Winterberry Farm, and in the last two years it has spread widely. It is snaking its way down wet drainages, expanding along the field and woodland edge, and creeping into the forest.

Garlic mustard is at its peak bloom in May - now. My goal is to pull as many flowering stems as possible to prevent this cohort from spreading its seeds. And I am obsessed with pulling these plants every time Bella and I head out for a walk.

Most of the invasive herbs and shrubs here are displaced from Asia. The garlic mustard (Alliaria petiolata), however, comes from a European origin; brought into the U.S. for a medicinal or herbal purpose. The plant has the faintest of onion or garlic odor when crushed. And it is in the mustard family, the Brassicaceae. I am much more fond of the mustard's cousins, the brassicas -- broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, and friends.


Garlic mustard can grow to 3 to 4 feet. The alternate leaves are scalloped or toothed, and slightly triangular. The small white flowers, with four petals, are many, with one plant producing hundreds of tiny, black seeds. The seeds may remain viable in the soil for 5 to 10 years, so I am on a long term mission.

Fortunately the plants are relatively easy to pull, especially after the rains this week. I grab the base of the plant to pull out the entire stem including the slender white tap root. There are just so darn many of the plants. And many baby plants coming on; these will flower next year. I am motivated to keep pulling Gs because the alternative is worse. Without this control, the garlic mustard will spread into the woodlands, displacing all the woodland wildflowers such as trilliums, solomon seal's, and jack-in-the-pulpits.

Perhaps I am fortunate that my mother is undergoing rehab for a partial hip replacement just when the garlic mustard blooms. I just happen to be here these weeks to catch the garlic mustard before it goes to seed. The pulled plants will all be taken to the burn pile in the lower field. I have only a few more days to ferret out the remaining blooms, then I can rest.

A Touch of Summer

Red-tail soaring.

Dandelions and bumblebees.
Violets and red maple pendants.
Blue-winged warbler,
a raspy bee-buzz from the tree top;
tail shakes on the exhale buzz.
Mid-day sun on my back.
Air warm and humid.
A touch of summer.

Breeze quickens,
clouds thicken, temperature falls.
Black-throated-blue warbler,
a soft zoo, zoo, zeee,
as it hops around the pond edge,
before heading farther north.
Spring returns.

Asparagus

Asparagus officinalis

For the past few days we have enjoyed fresh from the garden asparagus. This is the beauty of a back yard garden. Walk out the back door, wander past the perennial beds, past the amazingly fragrant purple lilacs, to the west garden, and pick some newly emerged asparagus stalks. And you have part of lunch or dinner. A few nights ago I steamed a handful of asparagus stalks and served with butter and a dash of salt. I don't use those tall steamer buckets made just for asparagus. The dependable, collapsible steamer that we use to steam any other vegie works just fine.

I picked another batch of asparagus stalks this morning for lunch. These I cut into one inch pieces, sauted them with thinly sliced onions, dash of salt, added four eggs, topped with grated swiss cheese, all melted under the broiler to make a delicious frittata. This recipe was from Simply Recipes. The eggs too were farm fresh from a local organic farmer friend.

The asparagus comes up as thick stalks or thin stalks. I am not sure what causes such differences in size. They all taste good when picked fresh daily from one's own garden. The taste is a bit subtle for some members of the family, which usually means more for me!

We never buy asparagus in the grocery store. It seems like one of those vegetables, since it is a perennial crop that takes care of itself after a while, that is good picked fresh but not so good after it sits on a grocer's shelf.

The next crop to harvest from the garden (aside from the chives that grow right outside the back door), is the rhubarb. I can almost taste the rhubarb pie, stewed rhubarb on vanilla ice cream, or rhubarb crisp. I have surprised myself in this blog, that this is the first real post about food. I am rather fond of food and thought that it would be a common thread on the Spicebush Log. Maybe now that the growing season is upon us, food stories will creep into the conversation. Just now I have to sign off and start making some chili and garlic toast. Good on a rather cool, rainy, May day.

Four Green Herons

I have been following the movements of four green herons around the pond for about a week. This relatively small stocky heron, looks like a funky crow in flight. While flying they give a loud skyow. They utter a few nervous, harsh kuk's when perched, especially when Bella and I come around. This morning one was at the tippy top of a red maple overlooking the pond.

I see them at various times of day at the pond, sometimes they are alone, sometimes a pair come around, and other times all four are flying about. They don't seem to be secretive or solitary as one bird book says. I would almost call them a tree heron, as they spend a lot of time in the trees. I am not sure if this foursome is sharing the pond as a place to hunt for food or if they are looking for nest sites. They should be laying eggs soon, wherever they nest.

The pond is silent again this year. Bella is not scaring up any frogs as she approaches the water's edge. I am wondering if too many predators have scoffed up any adults and tadpoles, predators such as the 6 painted turtles, the kingfisher that rattled around for a few days, the small colony of green herons, and probably a few mammals too.

Insect-feeders are still prevalent around the pond. It is the place to hang out for many birds -- a pair of wood ducks flew from the tall red maple this morning. This is the same tree favored by the warbling vireo, a nondescript little brown bird that carries on with a warbling song all day. The flicker, grackles, red wings, mourning doves, Baltimore oriole, all stop off in the big red maple with its expansive view of the neighborhood.

The barn swallows and tree swallows share the aerial space above the pond, skimming gracefully over the water and then over the surrounding fields. The small birds -- yellow rumped and yellow warblers -- stay somewhat hidden in the thicker underbrush.

I am struck on these thrice daily walks to the pond and around the fields, how much the tallest red maple trees are used by all birds. The red-tailed hawk holds dominance in one of the bigger maples. The one I check every dawn. The hawk is often there, casually looking at other birds land in the tree, and keeping a most watchful eye on the fields below for a careless meadow vole.

The red maples and the pond is the place to be.

The Mimids and the Thickets

A brown thrasher greeted us early this morning at the pond. He was perched atop a wild cherry tree, singing a series of mostly paired phrases, with brief pauses in between. His fellow "mimid," the catbird, was also singing from the thickets beyond; his being a more disjointed, cat-sounding series of phrases, without repeats. In late morning I heard the third member of this family of mimics, the mockingbird, carrying on from atop a red maple, repeating phrases as many as six times.

All three birds are nearly robin-sized, but much slimmer, with long, slender tails, that they often flip up. In addition to each having their own unique mimicking, song repertoire, the three mimids are quite distinct in their looks.

Gray catbird
(Dumatella carolinensis)
Uniformly slate-gray body,
black cap,
rufous vent,
noticeable since they raise their tail often

Brown thrasher
(Toxostoma rufum)
Rufous-brown above
long rufous tail
yellow eye
streaked breast, whitish wing bars

Northern mockingbird
(Mimus polyglottos)
pale gray body
white wing and tail patches,
that flash in flight and during foraging

The thasher and the catbird prefer thickets -- dense growth of shrubs, vines, and young trees. The mockingbird too, is a thicket bird, but seems to have adapted to suburban life, living among houses, yard trees, and lilac bushes.

The thickets along the streams and at the field edges

are a mix of woody species.

The native species are my favorites,

highbush blueberry
(Vaccinium corymbosum)

speckled alder
(Alnus incana)


silky dogwood
(Cornus amomum)


wild grape
(Vitis sp.)


We have an over abundance of invasive shrubs
in these thickets; they have
really gone wild on the farm.

The most common invasive shrubs or vines are
autumn olive, buckthorn,
bush honeysuckle, oriental bittersweet,
and most vicious of all - the mutilfora rose.
It's sturdy and very, very sharp thorns
are well hidden, but effective.

I do battle with these since they overtake the native shrubs, even though the birds may not notice, and the cardinal seems to thrive in the multiflora, but it too is a relative newcomer.

Among all the other farm chores, we periodically tackle a patch of invasive plants. The goal is to release and maintain the native shrub diversity, with the idea that this helps maintain the health of the soil and all the other plants and animals that live in these thickets.

Fruit Trees in Bloom

The fruit trees are in full flower, and what a year.

The pears and cherry tree in the orchard
are blanketed in white.
The old apple trees and crab apples in the yard,
likewise, are in full white blossom.
As you walk by each tree the air is full of their fragrance.
The bees and other pollinators are busy at work,
gathering nectar and moving pollen around.

The Baltimore oriole sings cheerily from the pear tree,

as it does every year.
Its orange and black plumage
brilliant amongst the white flowers.

The wild apple trees win the blue ribbon for beauty,
with their pink satin buds.

In full flower the shades of pink and white are stunning.
Scattered throughout the wooded field edges,
these wild apples display bouquets of gorgeous flowers.