HollerPhenology

Eastern cottontail comes to feast on clover and spring greens

Last fall I tossed out some microgreen seeds that were getting pretty old. A few weeks ago, I noticed some plants that I didn't recognize had come up near the porch and seemed to be thriving. After a closer look and some internet research, I discovered that I now had some red amaranth, arugula and a couple of other greens I haven't identified yet. I thought to myself, jokingly, that maybe I'd see some of the Holler's rabbits a little more often.

Eastern cottontail on April 27, 2024. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

This one came around this afternoon and mostly ate clover, but I'm pretty sure I saw her or him take a few bites of arugula.

Sharing lavender with the birds and the bees

I originally planted lavender for my use. The plant is several years old now, doing well, and making lots of flowers this season. I'm not the only critter in the holler who likes it.

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

This female ruby-throated hummingbird came around on June 10th, spending a full minute visiting every spike that had open flowers.

[Photo: Cathie Bird, 6/12/20]

Bumblebees like it, too. For the past few hours up to three bees at once have been buzzing the flowery spikes -- quite a few more flowers are available today. A wasp stopped by but didn't stay long.

Here's a photo of the new water and puddling stations in my planter garden:

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

I'm not sure this placement is the best, but it's workable for now. A silver-spotted skipper, eastern comma and silvery checkerspot have used the puddle -- it's hard to get photos from my window. Here's the comma resting among some leaves above the edge of the station that was kind of primordial-looking after a rain:

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

Yesterday a chipmunk got a drink, and hung out for awhile in the shade of the Asia lillies:

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

A better year for Trillium in the holler

Trillium species -- at my end of the holler, at least -- had fewer flowers last year. I observe two Trillium grandiflorum plants which both produced a flower in 2020. Trillium-2 came up first and had a bud by March 22nd:

On the same day, I caught the emergence of initial growth for Trillium-1, just visible at the edge of the moss and almost dead-center in the photo:

By March 28th, Trillium-1 had a bud:

A few feet away, Trillium-2 and several other plants near it had open flowers:

The trillium view farther down Terry Creek Lane inspired numerous vocalizations on my drive-bys. One of the slopes along the creek has several large colonies of Trillium grandiflorum that were packed with flowering plants this year. Unfortunately I never had my camera with me while they were out.

I also found a couple of red trillium clumps there, as well as yellow trillium, and a small group of "sweet betsy" (Trillium cuneatum) that hides a little bit up the slope and almost behind a tree -- tricky to find while driving on that narrow, winding part of the road.

I got one photo of the red trillium on a foggy/drippy April morning on my way back from town:

All of the flowers are gone now for all of the Trillium species -- most of them still have leaves visible, though, including Trillium-1 and -2 at my end of the holler.

Post-freeze leafy breakouts in the holler and lots of bird calls

On my first holler-walk since the subfreezing temperatures of last week, I didn't need a coat and didn't take my camera. Of course, I found all kinds of things to report:

Amur honeysuckle and multiflora rose have a few leaves as well as plenty of leaf buds.

I also found more sharp-lobed Hepatica leaves than I can remember, probably two dozen or more individual plants in two different areas. I checked these spots closely, looking for signs of rue anemone and trout lily, and found only the Hepatica leaves. Hepatica comes up every year in the holler but I usually find just two or three plants in each of the places I saw them today. It looked like somebody had been nibbling on a few of them.

Here's an image of Hepatica acutiloba I took last March:

Sharp-lobed Hepatica on March 12, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Several bird species called out while I walked: I heard at least five blue jays all vocalizing at once from five different directions, but only saw one of them. I saw two tufted titmice -- one of them was singing -- also a singing Carolina wren. I heard a cardinal but did not see it. I caught sight of several very small quiet birds but never got close enough to verify their species.

I did find some interesting bird evidence to bring home and photograph. My 2020 phenology observations calendar made an appropriate backdrop for it:

Eastern blue jay feather, February 17, 2020 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Seasonal shifts inside and out

Screen shot of a Status of Spring page map at USA National Phenology Network

A few days ago I saw four turkey hens feeding together in the field where at least one of them will probably raise some chicks in a few months. Overhead the same day, I heard calls of two red-shouldered hawks, followed immediately by loud squawks of a whistle-blowing blue jay. Yesterday, the first iridescent blue flash of the season signaled the arrival of an indigo bunting.

I read all of these as signs of a seasonal shift, though a sense of spring swirling inside me revealed itself well before these outer manifestations. Lately I've made all treks up and down the holler -- on foot or in the car -- with a more intentional gaze toward the places where toothwort, rue anemone, Carolina spring beauty and trout lily will soon evoke my surprise and delight.

I also messed around in my planter garden this week, poking in a few bulbs, cutting back dead stems, making mind-notes about stuff I need to do before sowing herbs or buying a few blossoming annuals for early insect and hummingbird visitors. This year I'm recycling parts of old flower pots to make a shelter for toads that hang around the planters.

Is all of this happening earlier than usual? And what's the weather outlook?

As I write this, it's 43 degrees outside. We've had rain and flash flood watches for the last 3 days. The predicted low for tonight is 21 degrees; predicted high for tomorrow is only 37, with an even colder low at 18 degrees. Saturday will be warmer. This pattern has circled around two or three times since 2020 began and probably will repeat itself over the next few weeks.

I'll be monitoring my planters and the rest of the holler to see how plants and birds are faring with this meteorological chaos.

See these articles/pages for more on the challenges of an early spring to trees and flowering plants:

Spring has arrived weeks early in the South (Washington Post 2/13/20)

Status of Spring page at USA National Phenology Network

 

A "better late than never" post from Spring 2019: flowers and breaking buds

Flower, Dogtooth violet (Erythronium americanum) on April 3, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Flower bud, Dogtooth violet (Erythronium americanum) on March 27, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Dogtooth Violet-3 on April 6, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Breaking buds, Ohio Buckeye (Aesculus glabra) on March 19, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Buckeye leaves on April 16, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Emerging leaves of Maple Leaf Viburnam (Viburnam acerifolium) on April 1, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Bud break on my cloned dogwood (Cornus florida-appalachianspring), April 1, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Red Maple on March 26, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Initial and first leaves of Echinacea purpurea on March 24, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird].

 

Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginica) on March 27, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Rue Anemone-2 (Thalictrum thalictroides) on March 27, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Rue Anemone-1 (Thalictrum thalictroides) on April 1, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Cutleaf toothwort (Cardemine concatenata)on March 26, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Yellow trillium (Trillium luteum) on April 1, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Initial growth of Trillim grandiflorum (on the left, next to an emerging rattlesnake plantain) on March 26, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Emerging flower bud, Trillium grandiflorum, on April 1, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Wild blue phlox (Phlox divaricata) on April 3, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Halberdleaf Yellow Violet (Viola hastata) on March 24, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Last Leaves in the Holler

Amur honeysuckle (Lonicera maackii) on November 28, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The Amur honeysuckle was the last plant on my Nature's Notebook observation list to lose all of it leaves this fall. The last ones came down sometime before December 2nd.

 

White Heath Aster (Symphotricum ericoides) on November 16, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The last of the wildflowers to go was the white heath aster. I think it's leaves would have stayed green longer had it not been for a few nights of frost after I took the photo above.

 

A germinating acorn (species unknown) on November 28, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

But even as this year's growth of trees, shrubs and wildflowers finished up their cycles, I found this acorn rooting itself in the middle of my driveway. The holler oaks had a "mast year" for acorns. They made the hills on my lane a bit hazardous -- kind of like trying to walk on an invisible layer of ball bearings under the fallen leaves. Many of these nuts have opened already as the weather has cycled between frosts and warm days on which I didn't even need a jacket for holler walks.

We had drought conditions in this part of Tennessee during the last half of the summer, which likely contributed to what I was seeing with many of the plants. The white wood asters (Eurybia divaricata), for example, did not have a very flowery season. I'm wondering if many days/weeks without rain at the time they would have been putting energy into flower-making had something to do with that.

The fall season on the other hand has included plenty of rain, and warm days flipping with short stretches of cold ones. We even had a storm with wind, lightning and thunder in the last weeks of November -- then a tiny bit of snow as December began. The high today will be 55-degrees...with a few showers.

I guess it's spring now.

Amur honeysuckle (Lonicera maackii) leaves on March 12, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I'm going to start this post with an ecopsychological observation as well as a phenological one. This past January 8th, I sensed (rather than saw) a fluttering outside my study window, and turned just in time to see an eastern comma flapping -- somewhat frantically, I thought -- against the glass.

Granted, commas are often the first butterfly species I see every year. But not in January. I felt little joy in seeing it. It was way too early. With some urgency I wondered if I was missing new phenophases of other species I observe in the holler. I often reduce the frequency of holler walks in the winter months. Physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually for me, it was still winter. I did not feel ready for it to be spring. And if there were things popping up and out already, I had concerns for the consequences to each and every one of them.

Multiflora rose (Rosa multiflora) on March 10, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

As calendar-winter went on -- with continued warm spells punctuated by serious cold ones, and more rain, more often than I have ever seen since I moved to Tennessee -- I noted that no trees, shrubs or forbs were taking the bait. My quince bushes eventually began to produce small flower buds, but they didn't swell or open, and endured a few 9- and 10-degree lows very well. By mid-February, daffodils were up and flowering throughout the larger Terry Creek drainage to which my holler's creeks contribute. Orange day lily and Siberian iris leaves began poking through the leaf cover on raised beds around my house.

Cutleaf Toothwort (Dentaria laciniata) on March 12, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

By the end of the first week of March, I had observed new, full leaves of Amur honeysuckle and multiflora rose, forsythia flowers, and first leaves of one of the cutleaf toothworts I have flagged (photos above).

Sharp-lobed Hepatica (Hepatica acutiloba), emerging leaves. March 12, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Now I'm also seeing leaves of sharp-lobed Hepatica, and Dogtooth violets (though not in the 2-sq.ft. plots I have marked). All of the red maples I observe for Nature's Notebook have open flowers, and members of this species all the way from the holler down to Knoxville are in some stage of emergence.

Sharp-lobed Hepatica (Hepatica acutiloba) leaves. March 12, 2019. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Up in the bird world (I saw/heard very few birds this winter up here in the holler, another point of concern) I've seen and heard an eastern phoebe hanging around old nest sites and calling for a mate. Blue jays, chickadees and cardinals are moving back up into the holler from fields down below. Many of these birds come up here to nest in the forested areas around my house.

And, of course, with the movement of these smaller birds comes the more frequent hunting parties of a resident hawk (red-shouldered or broad-winged, not sure which). I even saw some wild turkeys up in the air last week. And heard some barred owls.

I think it's spring. I've increased the number of phenology observation days significantly. And that feels okay now.

 

Fall creeps into the holler

My holler walk with Shadow on 11/11/18 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Peak color for most of the trees in the holler happened around the 25th of October. With windy storm fronts moving through during the first week of November, many of the leaves came down. RedMaple2, for example, lost all remaining leaves --95% or more-- early on November 6th in a thunderstorm strong enough to wake me and my pets up at 3am.

As of today -- except for the Amur honeysuckle, forsythia, multiflora rose and the beech tree farther down the holler -- all the forbs, shrubs and trees I observe have lost 95% or more of their leaves.

The holler had a couple of light frosts that shriveled leaves up and down the lane. Out in my planters, however, the chives, lavender, foxglove, and a few of the bee balms still look good. Time for one final chive and lavender harvest, I think.

So, in terms of phenology observations and reporting, I'm pretty much down to noting phenophase shifts for 3-4 plants and watching for birds and animals that will be around the rest of this fall and winter. The quieter times in the holler gave me some space to think about what's happened since my last post, and to write a little about how things went for some of the plant species this season.

White avens (Geum canadense) on July 1, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I noticed tons of white avens (image above) in more places around the holler than I'd seen since I moved here. The same was true for orange coneflowers and common St. Johnswort (images below).

Orange coneflower (Rudbeckia fulgida) on July 13, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I hadn't seen much St. Johnswort the last 2-3 years. I'm still checking photos to decipher the species. On occasion I've observed Spotted St. Johnswort considered to be "rare" in terms of frequency in this part of Tennessee. If they come up in such perfusion next year, I need to get a better record of the tops and bottoms of the leaves, and clearer images of the flowers to help myself out on identification.

Common St. Johnswort (Hypericum perforatum) on July 13, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

A new arrival to my eyes this far up the holler is one of the dayflowers. I've seen these down near Terry Creek for many years, but not up here. The blue color of this flower is striking, but it only flowers for one day. Maybe I've just missed them. For now I've decided this one is the non-native Asiatic dayflower:

Asiatic dayflower (Commelina communis) on July 13, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Among the abundant populations around the house and the holler was Echinacea, leafy elephant's foot, orange jewelweed, and the smaller of the two purple aster species that grow here.

Mature fruit of Echinacea purpurea, some of which has been harvested by goldfinches. August 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Leafy elephant's foot (Elephantopus carolinianus) on September 3, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I try to mow around patches of Elephant's foot because it produces a thistle-like fruit that draws goldfinches, white-throated sparrows and other birds to the yard on cold, snowy days.

I observe two different jewelweed plants, both of which are in an area that receives less sunlight than when I began to track them. Compared to larger patches in a sunny area on the opposite side of the lane, the individuals I track did not produce as many buds, flowers or fruits this year.

Orange jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) on August 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

A year or so ago the utility company did a massive clearing of trees and brush around the power lines that run along State Route 297 from Pioneer to Jellico. Since then, populations of small purple asters have flourished. This summer there were tons of them to inspire jaw-drops and wows from me every time I drove to town. I even had some up here in the holler, but I photographed these growing at the end of Terry Creek Lane just before it intersects with TN297:

Small purple asters on October 9, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Plants having lower numbers than usual throughout the summer and early fall included white wood asters, lobelia, and goldenrod.

For example, this is about as good as things got for the wood aster I track. Before it could produce any buds, the leaves got holes in them, turned gray-brown and disappeared:

Initial and first leaves of a white wood aster (Aster divaricatus) on July 1, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

On November 5th, however, I happened to catch activity of a relative just a few feet away, on the other side of the tree from WoodAster1:

White wood aster (Aster divaricatus) on November 5, 2018 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The wood aster a few inches away from this flowering one already had mature fruit:

Aster divaricatus on November 5, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

So many factors impact the lives of each individual forb, shrub or tree -- a good reason to track more than one plant of the same species.

Great blue lobelias were also missing in the holler this season. I love these plants. They are photogenic and often have an interesting mix of little bugs and pollinators crawling around on them (though this one didn't have any on the day I walked by):

Great blue lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica) on October 9, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Didn't see as much goldenrod this year, either, and most of what I saw -- at least around the holler -- was early goldenrod:

Early goldenrod (Solidago juncea) on August 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Some of the other plant stories of 2018 that I'd classify under "kind of weird": I didn't see as much heath aster in the holler, and the one I finally spotted was a volunteer in one of my planters. By the time this species starts to come up, they are already surrounded by a lot of other plants, making initial leaves hard to see. In fact I almost pulled initial leaves of this aster out because I thought it was a weed. As it continued to grow, I didn't really notice its distinctive narrow, pointed leaves because they blended in with the little snapdragons that were supposed to be the only residents of that planter. I didn't figure out I had a white heath aster in there until it made flowers:

White heath aster (Aster pilosus) in the planter on September 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I finally located the real HeathAster1 after it grew taller than the surrounding Echinaceas and the bright white flowers caught my eye. It did not produce a lot of leaves or flowers this year though. I wondered if it had to spend most of its energy reserves just to get up out of the Echinaceas.

And one final weirdness: the mapleleaf viburnams had a tough year for some reason. I track only one of this species, but new viburnams in its neighborhood have been increasing yearly since I began observing them, seeming to do very well. This year, the only one to get all the way to the flowering phenophase was the plant next to the one I track, and it never made fruits.

As the holler slides deeper into fall and winter, I'm thinking about future posts for the slower observation season. I have expanded my Phenology Album at Flickr. In my next post -- unless something unexpected emerges -- I decided to gather images of my Nature's Notebook observation area and its neighboring landscapes to share more of a "whole holler" background for blog posts on species I observe.

Caught in the act: Buckeye Bud Burst

Buckeye-1, March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Bucky! I pretty much shouted for joy to have caught Buckeye-1 with leaves just breaking through its bud scales. Such are the simple pleasures of a phenology observer.

When I did my holler walk on March 23rd, I wasn't sure what I'd find. Two inches of snow in the early morning hours and most of the day of the 21st covered most plants. That night and the next, we had freeze warnings, with daytime temperatures just high enough to melt most of the snow. Many of the plants I observe already had leaves, buds or flowers; I guessed others were close to popping up because I'd been seeing their relatives in lower elevations of the holler for several days.

Trillium grandiflorum, March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

When I finally got out for a closer look on the 23rd, I found everybody in good shape. Stuff that had already come up, as well as new arrivals like the buckeye leaves and white trillium (above) looked lively and undamaged. I also found yellow trillium (see photo below), many with buds forming, in several locations by the house and the creek.

Trillium luteum, March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Never knowing what I'll find, and being surprised, is yet another joy of tracking life cycles of plants, birds, insects and animals in the holler. In my last post I noted that yellow trout lily (aka dogtooth violet) leaves had emerged, so I knew buds and flowers would be along soon. Here's what I saw around the marker for dogtooth violet-1 before I even got to the buckeye and trillium flags:

Trout Lily (Erythronium americanum), March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Further down the lane, I noticed that Jewelweed-3's leaves had grown some. The photo below illustrates the presence of initial growth--the larger, rounder structures, and the first phenophase I watch for in spring--as well as the first actual leaves, another phenophase, visible between them at their base. As the leaves grow, the initial growth will turn yellow and drop off. Until then, when I submit data on Nature's Notebook for this plant, I'll mark that I observed both phenophases for Jewelweed-3.

Orange Jewelweed-3 on March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The star chickweed, another common early spring flower in the holler, started coming up about the same time rue anemone did this year. This one only has a couple of flowers now, but during its usual season from April to May, these chickweeds will have many flowers per plant. In the holler, I often find them near violets and trout lilies--very photogenic groupings. I'll try to illustrate this in a future post.

Star chickweed (Stellaria pubera), March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Rue Anemone-1 (below) made it through the snow and freezes and shows one of its flowers fully open and moving toward the seed phenophase. This is one of the plants I thought might take more of a beating with the harsh weather last week. 

Rue Anemone (Thalictrum thalictroides), March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The amur honeysuckle and multiflora rose plants I observe have lots of leaves now, some of which have reached full size, even as other parts of the plant have breaking buds. Here's the multiflora rose on March 23rd:

Multiflora Rose (Rosa multiflora), March 23, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Last night we had a few minutes of hail accompanied by thunder, lightning and heavy rain here in the holler, a total of 6-inches of rain out of this last system. Many of the flowering plants I observe have at least some shrub and tree cover above them, which helps break the impact of hail. I'm guessing I might see a lot of forsythia blossoms on the ground today, as that bush is more in the open. I hope to get out later to see what's up--or down.

By the way, I added a new Phenology album to my Flickr pages. I'll add photos and comments there that illustrate phenophases of the species I observe for Nature's Notebook. You can also access my photostream from the Flickr link in the sidebar.