Vermilion Murmurs and Malus within a November Landscape

Cinnabar and Dragon blood come to mind when seeing the vibrant vermilion sprays of our middle garden Japanese Maple. Its blazing breath reaches over towards payne's gray shadows racing through the forested hills, we call Walnut Hill and High Ridge, creating a stunning contrast. Sturdy oaks still grasping their last burnt sienna leaves are nearly naked now. The Japanese Maple is as out of place in our landscape as an ancient Dracaena cinnabari might be, but it is a dormant dragon so lifting the spirit with its late and lasting fiery vibrance. 

Viburnums have yet to let go of their purple leaves.

Cotinus, without the smoke, adds to the last of early November's crimson garden palette. 

Another sleeping dragon rests just below the farmhouse in our weeping Cutleaf Japanese Maple.

Other reds in the gardens this November are juicy spheres by the hundreds . . . apples remaining on, or below, the apple trees. We have a variety of Malus senior citizens about the gardens and are thankful to those who planted the ever giving trees, one at least, over a century ago.

Sedum 'Autumn Joy' still wearing its burgundy tones before aforementioned century old apple tree. 

A stream of free falls given a good wash make yummy apple sauce. 

Weeping crabapple outside of the little studio offers a tangy feast for over wintering birds.

Our Metasequoia in the north field spreads out her russet plumes.

In the south field sumac brightens the fading countryside.

Meanwhile, as bold colors depart and cold, chilly air arrives, I have added another warbler to my 'A Bestiary. . . Tales From A Wildlife Garden' over at Native Plants and Wildlife Gardens. The stout little Black-throated Blue Warbler becomes the twenty-fourth beast . . . the seventh warbler . . .  joining the bubbly bouquet of songbirds.

'Three Graces' Crabapples in Middle Garden

We are now in the last week of May, as I step back into the second week of May redressing our 'Three Graces' Crabapples and early Viburnum carlesii with fresh blooms. 

The limbs of the 'Three Graces' (to the left) hold three different varieties of blossoms.

Stepping away from the 'Three Graces' the distant cloud of sweet-scented crabapple blooms from the Crabapple Orchard offer quite a show.

The 'Three Graces' Crabapples looking towards the east. 

Looking out from the barn studio facing south as the sun sets in the west leaving only a sliver of light on the southeastern hills and the Mount Holyoke Range. The Bluebirds are busy bringing insects to their hatchlings in the nestbox. The 'Three Graces' are to the left, while the 'Gateway' Apples reach into view on the right.

Light transforms the landscape.

All is awash in fresh morning light from the barn studio looking over the 'Three Graces' canopy towards our beloved Black Cherry ('Michael's Tree') and a stately Oak before Walnut Hill.

Standing out in the north field looking up at the middle garden. 

The 'Three Graces' Crabapples as seen from the north.

 I often wonder how the wildlife here see this amazing time, when the gardens are nearly ablaze in color and fragrance. I know they love the many insects that are attracted to the riot of flowers, but how do they see or sense it all as they fly over the trees and shrubs and through the many blooming branches, building their nests and gleaning insects.
Now, the thousands of blooms are faded and small apples are forming that will feed many birds later in the year. Lilac time is up next.

Blooming Apple and Crabapple Orchard in North Gardens

Days of rain and cooler temperatures are allowing me to catch up with the virtual gardens. In real time we are beginning the last week of May . . . the month seems to have bolted by with little rain and cool temperatures that held a multitude of blossoms longer.

Stepping back into earlier spring again and walking away from the south gardens and the Apple Gateway out towards the north field, beneath the serpentine Black Cherry 'Michael's Tree' (holding the meticulously woven Baltimore Oriole nest) and White Birch, we approach the north garden's edge and our sixth older Apple wearing a white canopy of soft blooms.

The Apple stands, holding up blossoming arm-like limbs, beside quince along the fringe of the Crabapple Orchard. Seeing the giant Rock Maples from the north gives a different perspective of these majestic trees. Deciduous Dawn Redwood's graceful branches reach into the photograph (on left) from the north field trying to touch the Apple that seems to be stretching towards it too. In truth the Metasequoia is much farther away and the Apple needs more serious pruning. I am standing in the north field looking over to the gardens and house.

Now, looking further to the right, I stand near a younger Rock Maple and have my camera pointed more into the orchard that fills the space on the north side of the barn.

One path leads up into the garden offering a view of the fleecy textures of quince, apple, pine and crabapple just beginning to unfurl their sepals and petals. The rosy petals in the taller crabapple will turn pure white as seen below. The sweetness of the fragrance is heavenly.

Layers of quince, apple and crabapple flowers fully unfurl. All are members of the Rose (Rosaceae) family that dates back millions of years. Apples and Crabapples are of the genus Malus.

Various crabapple varieties blooming at different times. I wish I had better records and could name the varieties I planted nearly twenty years ago.

Looking through the Crabapple Orchard from the barn studio, the colors fill the windows and doors.

A Tufted Titmouse bathed in light and blooms sings for his mate. Who could resist?

Walking up towards the old farmhouse and looking back,viburnums and lilacs add another texture to the landscape.

Now, moving away from the Crabapple Orchard into other parts of the north garden and looking back.

The edge of the Crabapple Orchard and the north garden ablaze of blooms, seen while walking up yet another path from the north field . . . this one leading into the middle gardens, which I will share later this week.

Crabapple flowers are favored by foraging birds . . . especially the female Baltimore Oriole, who is taking a break from weaving her beautiful nest.

Woe be it for any little caterpillar, but the apples appreciate this steward. Crabapples are valued for their beauty and also they are an important food source during the spring and winter months for birds and butterflies. The small fruit is particularly preferred by Cedar and Bohemian Waxwings, Robins, Pine Grosbeaks, Wild Turkeys and some small mammals.

Just behind the farmhouse and the little studio looking down towards the Crabapple Orchard. The Weeping Crabapple (in the foreground) behind the studio is all budded out and will soon turn pure white. In real time they are fading and falling with the rain.

Looking out the barn studio door towards the north field and White Birch. The bright light on the white bark reflects the whiteness of some of the crabapple blooms. The late blooming lilac just before the quince is now fully blossomed with droopy blooms from the weight of rain and more rain.

The dozen crabapples that make up our Crabapple Orchard create a wildlife habitat in and of itself. Countless birds are often seen within the blooming branches gleaning for insects. Robins, warblers and even hummingbirds build their nests in the crabapple canopies and during the winter, Cedar Waxwings have a special technique of tossing and catching the tiny round fruit, which helps sustain them throughout the winter months. The branches also hold the weight of Wild Turkeys, especially when the ground is covered with snow, and help them survive the long winters here. All of this action, as well as, the fragrance and beauty of the crabapples offer us mere humans great joy.

Flower Hill Farm Butterflies of 2012 ~ Red Admiral

When I wrote about the Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta, in my first Flower Hill Farm Butterflies of 2011, I was bemoaning the fact that I had never seen this 'admirable' butterfly in my gardens. Well, from year to year, we never know how things might be. 

This past spring of 2012 I delighted in oodles of the brightly, patterned butterflies floating about like living ornaments, lit up by the sun, lighting and feeding all over the weeping crabapple just outside our little painting studio. Red Admirals were nectaring on the lilacs too. Proof that these members of the Brushfooted family do enjoy a sweet sip of flower nectar along with tree sap, when they are not focused on the more fermented yucky taste of rotten fruit or excrement, including that of birds . . . who eat butterflies . . . hmmm. 

Like their cousins, Painted Ladies, the Red Admirals live worldwide. 

In Massachusetts one might see admirals 'on the wing' from May through early September. They will choose a habitat near a wettish wooded area and must enjoy the several seasonal springs in our forest. 

Stinging nettles, false nettle and wood nettle along with hops will suffice for the caterpillars, who secure themselves within various leaves and munch through instars . . . finally folding a leaf over themselves to become a chrysalis. These butterflies will fly south for the winter months. Massachusetts sightings noting hundreds of Red Admirals moving west have been recorded along with other United States and European enthusiast reporting seeing "enormous numbers" . . . records go back for over a hundred years.

The migrating admirals admire the May gardens and do their best to flee when a bird's beak slashes their lovely kaftans. May is a time for parenting birds to forage for nestlings and they become discerning hunters making Flower Hill Farm a dangerous place for butterflies in any stage of growth.

The Red Admiral above appears to be enjoying a deep sip for his antennae is dipping down. Yummy.

We can all help out research by reporting migrating Red Admiral and Painted Lady butterflies to the Iowa State University research site. It would be great to learn more about their migrations.

I was overjoyed to sight this Red Admiral in Venice during my 2012 November visit. The dot just beyond my shadowy head is the little guy. You might think . . . what a terrible photo . . . why share that? I agree but must say before one passes judgement . . . this is a 'Venetian' Red Admiral. It was a thrill and still is when I see these images.

Near full golden moon rising above the ridge of Walnut Hill. 

It seems like this March full moon should be a Full Snow Moon continued but in fact it is the Worm Moon according to some Native Americans. Beneath the snowy fields the ground may be thawing and the earthworms are stirring which is great news to the woodcocks. Some call this March full moon Full Sap Moon and it is certain that our neighbors are burning sap in their sugar shacks, so that tells us that tree sap is running. Whatever one calls this moon it can always be call beautiful as it spins around our planet. Birds are singing at sunrise . . . they must know that spring is nearly here, though when I look out the window it seems faraway.

I cope by continuing to play with bright cheery colors from last years wildlife. 

More butterflies were sighted in the gardens in 2012 and I look forward to sharing them with you in upcoming installments of Flower Hill Farm Butterflies of 2012.