Category Archives: Nature

Harbingers of Spring – the first wild-flowers of the year

Coltsfoot
Coltsfoot

As an immigrant from the UK, initially the delicious, slow unfolding of the English Spring – Snowdrops in February, then Daffodils and Primroses, and Bluebells in April – was one of the few things for which I felt a nostalgic yearning. In Toronto, I blinked and missed the greening of the trees. Trilliums enchanted me, but I had to go look for them.

Living here, I’ve learned Spring’s more subtle nuances, and that the more you see, the more you see!

When the Coltsfoot turns its yellow face to the sun, I feel the excitement of beginning. In our yard I’ve pulled much of it out as a non-native invader but I admit to delighting in its radiance along the roadside.

Bloodroot
Bloodroot

Soon after, I check the bank in our woods for Bloodroot, like many of the Spring ephemerals a dainty flower that opens to the sun and closes at night. As the term suggests, Spring ephemerals are seen only briefly as the canopy’s rapid greening blocks out the light. Many disappear completely, hiding beneath the forest floor ready to grow back next Spring. I think part of the pleasure I now feel is in knowing when and where to look, an appreciation of their transience.

Great White Trillium
Great White Trillium
Red Trillium
Red Trillium

Already, I see Trillium leaves, though the flowers will take another week or two to appear. I love the purity of the Great White variant but covet the Red Trillium too.

Dutchman's Breeches
Dutchman’s Breeches

Dutchman’s Breeches always make me smile, the name so apt yet somehow comic. It seems as if each year they carpet the woods along Pine Point more densely.

Now we’re really getting started! As I walk, I look for Sharp Lobed Hepatica and Virginia Spring Beauty, tiny but so pretty. There are swathes of Long Spurred Violet as well as patches of Common Blue Violet. For the first time, I also spotted a Downy Yellow Violet and a patch of Pussytoes!

Spring Beauty
Spring Beauty
Long Spurred Violet
Long Spurred Violet
Hepatica
Hepatica
Downy Yellow Violet
Downy Yellow Violet
Pussytoes
Pussytoes
Common Blue Violet
Common Blue Violet

I’m less happy to see Siberian Squill. Whilst its blue flowers may be attractive, it is another very invasive non-native that can crowd other plants out. And, however much it reminds me of my grandmother, I’ve removed Lily of the Valley from my list of desirable plants for the same reason.

Siberian Squill
Siberian Squill
Lily of the Valley
Lily of the Valley

As I write at the beginning of May, the Trout Lillies are adding their dainty yellow blooms to the mix, and the Large-flowered Bellwort are also beginning to open. It brings me special joy to see these abundantly intermingled with Trillium and Spring Beauty.

Bellwort
Bellwort
Trout Lilies
Trout Lilies
Trilliums, Spring Beauty & Trout Lily
Trilliums, Spring Beauty & Trout Lily

We are fortunate that some of these first flowers of the year occur naturally on our land. But I am gradually adding more under the trees and at the wood edge. I am excited by the first flowering of the Hepaticas I planted last year. And I am loving the combination of blue Virginia Bluebells and yellow Wood Poppy, both native though not local.

Virginia Bluebells & Wood Poppy
Virginia Bluebells & Wood Poppy

In this beautiful rural setting, wildflowers can be a wonderful addition to a garden. And, by definition, native plants once established tend to do well with very little attention, as well as benefiting the local ecosystem.

Written for the Dog & Cranberry Lake Association Newsletter, May 2023

Stories in the snow – tracks

I’ve always been fascinated by the stories of lives otherwise unseen that winter reveals. So it was a real treat, on Saturday March 5, to join Shirley French at her property on Cranberry Lake as she led a session for DCLA (Dog & Cranberry Lakes Association) members on Tracks in the Snow.

Illustration of animal tracks

I  think someone must have had what my grandfather used to call ‘a hotline to the clerk of the weather’! Certainly, we were blessed with an almost perfect day – snow fresh enough for distinct tracks, cold but not too cold, dry, and reasonably bright.

A group of a dozen or so intrepid trackers, including two delightful young girls bursting with enthusiasm and curiosity, gathered on Shirley’s land for an initial briefing on what we might find. Helpful illustrations of the tracks we were likely to see supplemented what we had already gleaned from a video of winter visitors that Shirley made available before the event.

Intrepid trackers

A story of a fox, a weasel, and a snake (and other animals)

Unsurprisingly, the first tracks we spotted were those of the ubiquitous white-tailed deer, as well as squirrel and rabbit.

However, there was real excitement when we spotted some intriguing tracks leading up over a rock. Of course, we had to investigate! Skirting carefully up the slope behind the rock we discovered the partially eaten remains of a snake, likely a water snake. Who dragged it there? At the time, we didn’t arrive at a clear answer. But later Shirley went back and measured the footprints on the rock. The narrative that emerged was that it was a fox who left the snake’s remains. The fox likely stole the prey from a weasel, an animal that could access a snake hibernaculum, perhaps in the side of a small island just offshore across the ice.

The ongoing story, as captured by video footage in the days that followed, included visits to the snake by a leery crow and a nibbling racoon; fox and porcupine also passed by.

It’s worth noting that this rock was already of interest as Shirley had previously identified a mink den beneath it, sharing some lovely footage of their comings and goings in her preliminary video.

Further explorations

We continued our explorations, edging out towards the lake and clambering up rocky paths, all the while noting the evidence of abundant life written in the snow. The distinctive tracks of porcupine often include the sweep of their dragging tail alongside their clawed toes – four at the front, five at the back. Turkey tracks are like direction markers, though they point back in the direction they’ve come from rather than forward to where they are going! We saw both of these.

It was truly exhilarating to forge a path through the snow to one of the highest points above Cranberry lake. What a view!

What a view over Cranberry Lake!

Many thanks to Shirley for her leadership, the sharing of her knowledge and the invitation to walk her land and to all the participants, especially the youngest ones, who helped make this a captivating and magical experience.

Written for and published in the Dog & Cranberry Lakes Association Newsletter, June 2022

Last year for the DCLA Newsletter I wrote about my attempts at getting to know our trees in The Year of the Trees

The year of the trees

Ever since we moved to Cranberry Lake five years ago, I have been promising myself that I will catalogue, as far as possible, the trees on our 2.25 acres of land. For a British immigrant of twelve years, I’m surprisingly good at recognizing birds, animals and wildflowers despite an English country childhood in a very different ecological environment. But I don’t feel I know my Ontario trees quite so well and I am amazed by the diversity I see around us. I am embracing 2021 as the year of the trees!

i-naturalist – a useful tool

My project page on i-naturalist

Back in December 2020 Dog & Cranberry Lakes Association offered a helpful webinar on how to use i-naturalist. This prompted me to create a project (The House at Turtle Pond · iNaturalist) where I am gathering together all our observations of the incredible variety of life around us. My experience has been that this has further sharpened my ‘seeing’ and boosted my knowledge. Be warned, though, that contributing to i-naturalist can be addictive! I felt that this was a tool that might provide me with way of bringing together what I discover about our trees as well as assisting me in identifying them.

As the deep cold of winter began to wane, I thought I’d start by looking at some of our evergreens. In all honesty, I’m finding it a lot harder than I imagined to arrive at definitive identifications. Who knew that there are so many different varieties of Pine, Spruce, Fir, and Cedar?! And the same is true of the deciduous trees. It’s a little overwhelming!

One of the issues I have found is that, to have confidence in your classification of a tree, it is helpful to be able to bring together observations from the different stages of the annual cycle. Unfortunately, i-naturalist doesn’t facilitate this. So, I have created a spreadsheet where I can record flower, leaf, seed, bark, and overall shape of tree as well as seasonal shifts. I also have started a simple list on this blog under Rural Life – Trees and Shrubs at the House at Turtle Pond.

Although i-naturalist can point me in the right direction or occasionally confirm something I’m already reasonably sure about, in many cases I am going to have to turn to books and additional online resources. What I really need, once we have a little more freedom to interact, is a local expert. Are there any volunteers out there, I wonder?

Seeing anew

Trees - autumn on our bay

If my ability to catalogue our trees is, as yet, still somewhat limited, my awareness has shifted significantly.

I have become conscious that, in an area where water is all around us – constantly changing, taking our breath away on a daily basis – it is easy to relegate the incredible beauty of the woods to a supporting role. Yet looking at our photos it struck me that, if the lake is the backdrop to our lives, the trees provide the framing.

Trees - bare winter branches frame ice and snow

Never, until this year’s slow sidle into Spring, have I realized quite how beautiful is the flowering of the trees! It’s easy to be uplifted by the obvious blossoming of Cherry trees, Magnolia or Serviceberry. But, perhaps because so much of the action takes place far above our heads, I think many of us miss the delicate beauty of the blooms of Maple and Basswood, Oak and Elm, Willow and Birch; tiny explosions of colour, curled catkins, soft Pussy-Willow puffs!

Trees - the beauty of their flowers

We are barely into the growing months of the year and already there is a deepening intimacy in my relationship with trees that will only increase with the shifting seasons. I can’t wait to make the connections between flower, fruit and leaf, to witness the greening with newly heightened senses, then later the florid fullness of Fall.

I’m reminded that, when we choose to focus in a specific direction, there is invariably a richness to be discovered that, once found, will never wholly be lost.

Stewardship

As we moved to this beautiful place, I was startled by the unexpected strength of a sense not of ownership but of stewardship of the land; of a deep love and great desire to do right by it and by all the beings with which we share it. This sense of responsibility underpins my life here. There are many ways in which we try to put this into action, including supplementary planting of native species, particularly those supportive to pollinators and wildlife.

As part of this, we have tried to make sure we plant at least a few trees and shrubs each year. After less than stellar attempts amid last year’s uncertainties, we have big plans for 2021. We will be adding to an existing grove of White Pine with seedlings courtesy of the DCLA 2021 Spring Tree Sale. (There will be further availability in the Fall – keep an eye open for mailings to get your order in!)

Having struggled for the last few years to find a relatively local source for a wide range of native plants, I was like a kid in a candy shop when I discovered Natural Themes Native Plant Nursery in Frankford. My order, to be picked up in the latter part of May, includes eight native species of trees and shrubs. We have more Serviceberry in our woods than I had realized, but all our other purchases are supplementary to what is already here.

I am writing this on Earth Day 2021. At a time when many of us have moments when we feel as if it is difficult to breathe, how apt it seems to focus on appreciating the trees that are often described as Earth’s lungs.

A friend recently asked what the motivation is to plant trees knowing you will never see them reach maturity. There are so many good, practical ecological reasons. More than that, though, I think that every tree you plant is a statement of hope, of belief in a future in which you will no longer play a part and an act of love for the planet and future generations.

Trees in sihouette against a sunset sky

Gina Bearne, April 2021 – originally written for the Dog and Cranberry Lakes Association Newsletter, Summer 2021 (well worth reading), though with some additional photos added for my blog.

Nature, connection and homecoming

Our first year of living in rural Ontario has been truly special. I have had a sense of homecoming, of re-connecting more fully with nature. And, for me, that connection is the source of much wonder and joy.

Cranberry Lake in Fall

So I put together a book, A year in the life of The House at Turtle Pond. A kind of journal, it seeks to capture our response to the newness of living through the turning of this first year, looking out over Cranberry Lake on the Rideau system in Southern Ontario, Canada.

It speaks to a deep connection with nature, the rhythm of the seasons and the interconnectedness of internal and external realities.

I wrote it first and foremost so as not to lose sight of the newness as the years pass and familiarity potentially dulls our awareness. But it has been lovely to find that at least a few people find in it something to feed the soul. It makes it even more worthwhile!

The book

Below is a link to A year in the life of The House at Turtle Pond as it appears on the Blurb website. Here you can glance through a preview. If you happen to be interested in having a copy and live locally, please feel free to contact me direct. Blurb often offers discounts to the creator of a book, which makes it significantly more affordable.

A year in the life of the house at Turtle Pond
A year in the …
By Gina Bearne
Photo book

By the way, it was our predecessors who named our wetland between the house and road Turtle Pond. And our neighbour noted that this was therefore The House at Turtle Pond,  like The House at Pooh CornerThis seemed apt, especially when I came across this:

And by and by Christopher Robin came to the end of things, and he was silent, and he sat there, looking out over the world, just wishing it wouldn’t stop.

A.A. Milne

(Originally posted on my other blog, Passage to Joy, but so much a part of our Canadian journey that I wanted to include it here!)

Winter wonder and magic – art and nature

Yesterday we returned from three magical days outside time in Wakefield, just north of Ottawa on the edge of Gatineau Park; days in which to wonder at the way winter transforms the landscape.

‘A Modern Indigenous Master’

First, though, we took in some magic of a different kind; a fabulous retrospective of the work of Alex Janvier, one of Canada’s most acclaimed contemporary artists, at the National Gallery.

As an indigenous artist who himself was torn from his family and culture and sent to a reidential school at age eight, some of Janvier’s work references very directly the suffering experienced by indigenous people in Canada. At times it is, quite rightly and very movingly, political and outraged. But there is also huge vitality, spirituality and joy. I felt with many of his works that I could sit and be with just one piece for a long time and keep finding new elements and insights. 

Winter – transformation and meditation

Wakefield MillOur destination was Wakefield Mill, a lovely converted 19th-century flour mill on the banks of the Gatineau River, surrounded by 24 acres of forest.  We arrived the day after a minor ice-storm; the roads had been cleared and the journey was fine, but, without significant subsequent snow-fall, even the day after we arrived was exceptionally icy and treacherous. Despite this, we managed to try out our new snow-shoes on a short trail behind Wakefield’s covered bridge.

 

 

I find the light and sparkle of snow, the dampened sound cut through with the crunch of a crisp crust cracking underfoot, the distorted forms of rocks and trees, the transformation of running water into constantly changing sculptures, entrancing.  

This is the best of meditations; I am effortlessly present,  ‘just being’. For me, winter makes it easy to access the child’s wonder and joy.

 

A second outing before we started for home saw us climbing fairly steeply up through woods to a peak above the village where we could look out across the white expanse below – stunning! We looped back down a gentler trail, the first folks through after six inches or so of snow the day before.

pano_20161230_121746-1

 

Of course, every homecoming is also a gift living here; today we were gifted Alice in winter pastels . . .  (Alice is the first island we see as we look out across Cranberry Lake!).

Alice in winter pastels

 

Google Album (more photos!)