Garden Bark
There’s still not a lot blooming, neither native nor cultivated, so I’ll continue on the theme of bark. It’s something I tend to notice more in the winter than the summer, although none of these photos are truly winter images.
The detail of peeling flowering cherry bark with a nice collection of lichens was growing along Azalea Way at the Washington Park Arboretum in Seattle. I don’t know the variety of cherry, nor the names of the lichens. Several of the trees and shrubs harbor lichens and mosses. They thrive in our wet winters.
Some of the most interesting bark peels dramatically, like this river birch (Betula nigra) growing in the garden at Oklahoma State University in Oklahoma City.
River birch is native to most of the eastern United States, including Oklahoma. It thrives in wet habitats in the wild, but in cultivation will tolerate drier conditions. I’ve read at least one report that Native Americans boiled the sap into a syrup, similar to maple syrup, and on occasion used the inner bark as an emergency survival food. I’ve never tried either, and have some difficulty imagining eating bark. But I’ve never been that hungry.
Many of our birches have interesting bark. Probably one of the most recognizable North American trees is paper birch (Betula papyrifera), known in most of its range for bright white bark that peels in horizontal strips. It is native all across the northern United States and almost all of Canada. West of the Cascades where I live you often find it with darker, less dramatic bark that makes it more difficult to recognize.
Trees with interesting bark aren’t just limited to North American natives. This Tasmanian Snowgum (Eucalyptus coccifera), was planted as a dramatic ornamental in the alpine garden at the University of British Columbia Botanical Garden.
I photographed the snowgum in color, and this photo has appeared in print in its original form. This version was converted to black and white in Adobe Lightroom, which gives all the control over black and white that a film photographer had with a complete set of filters. Actually, Lightroom gives even more control than we had with filters and film because one can adjust each of the additive and subtractive primary colors individually. Thus, I could render the blue sky dark like a polarizer would, darken the green foliage, and brighten all the reds and yellows.
Photography is a combination of art and craft, creative decisions and science. It helps to know a little of each. The craft and science are the underpinnings that allow creative realization. The best ideas have little value if they can’t be rendered into a sharable form.
Here in the Northwest one of my favorite trees for winter bark is the Madrona, sometimes called Madrone, or Arbutus menziesii. This one was photographed on a rainy day on Pass Island at Deception Pass State Park in early March. The soft light and the rain really enhance the color of the bark and the wood where it’s peeled away.
This being the mild Pacific Northwest we gardeners sometimes joke that spring begins on New Year’s Day. We try to have something blooming in our garden year-around and today is no exception. What’s blooming in your garden today?
We’ve got a nice patch of Hellebores growing under the Dawn Viburnum. They haven’t started blooming yet, but the flower buds are swelling. Depending on how warm January turns out to be, they could be starting to open before the month is over.
Over on the other side of our front yard garden, nestled close by the Korean Fir that serves as our Christmas tree, is a big clump of Corsican Hellebores, Helleborus argutifolius.
We have several varieties of Heather scattered around our garden. This one I think is ‘Sherwood’s Early Red.’ Like many other plants we started with just a little start years ago and have divided it as it grew. Now we have it several places in the garden and have shared pieces with Natalie’s mother for her garden, too.
Santa Claus took a little time out of his busy schedule to come into the studio for a fresh portrait a little while back. While he and Mrs. Claus were in, we talked a bit about some of the questions that children frequently ask him. He was gracious to share his answers.
Q: Do you really live at the North Pole? I thought it was all ice up there and dark all winter long.
It was actually raining when I arrived, so we started with a few interior shots with Chris at the piano. He wasn’t too keen on those, but we wanted to make mom happy. When the rain stopped we moved outside and began working our way around the garden.
This portrait of Chris at the edge of the woods is the one everyone ultimately liked the best and ordered as a small wall portrait. He looks relaxed and comfortable, and the golden yellow autumn foliage contrasts nicely with the blue sweater and jeans.
Vikki Jackson was our tour leader. She’s seen here explaining about an older man-made wetland pond constructed several years ago to provide wildlife habitat.
I didn’t get to the ski area parking lot, which was full, until almost 12:30. That was OK since I wanted afternoon light. But it wasn’t OK, because I was racing the clouds that had started to roll in.
I don’t know just what made these tracks zig zagging across the snow. Could have been a meadow vole or other small rodent that dens under the snow. There were several sets of tracks similar to these in the snow just below Artist Point. I particularly liked this set of tracks because of the way they curved around. What distracted the critter from a straight path?
I broke trail the short distance to the overlook toward Swift Creek and Baker Lake. Clouds obscured the lake as well as Mt. Baker, but the snow crusted on the Mountain Hemlocks along the ridge created more accessible drama. I ate my peanut butter sandwich under this tree, admiring the way the wind had blasted the snow into the branches, almost completely hiding the foliage.