Almanac

Almanac April 2023

April is a quivering brood, a bellyful of earthworms, a fledgling’s maiden flight.

The sun is out. A banquet of wild violets glistens in the wake of a spring rain. The birdbath runneth over.

In the garden, a pair of robins scurry from worm to worm, flit from soft earth to wriggling nest, from wriggling nest to soft earth. There are mouths to feed. Four beaks, bright as buttercups, open and urging for more, more, more.

Born pink and blind, the robin hatchlings know nothing of rat snakes or corvids; nothing of cold winds or the bloodthirsty cat by the birdbath. By some miracle, the chicks emerged from pale blue eggs into a world that is soft, safe and kindly. By some miracle, they know only the warmth of their mother, the warmth of the nest, the warmth inside their plump, translucent bellies.

Days from now, everything will change. First, tiny quills will appear on the nestlings’ feeble bodies. Next, their eyes will crack open, the sudden light revealing a world of color and danger and new horizons.

In two weeks, when the dandelions have multiplied and the earliest strawberries blossom, the speckled fledglings will jump the nest.

What happens next?

For the young robins: peril or miracle.

For the robin pair: another nest, another clutch, another thousand trips from quivering brood to soft earth.

 

The Blushing Maiden

The Full Pink Moon rises on Thursday, April 6. Native Americans named this moon for the creeping phlox now blushing across the tender earth. This year, the Pink Moon also happens to be the Paschal Moon — the first full moon of spring.

Also called moss phlox, the fragrant blossoms of this herbaceous perennial make it a butterfly magnet.

But it’s not the only pink flower in bloom. Tulips come in 50 shades of it.

There’s the pink-flowering dogwood, the eastern redbud (pardon the misleading name) and the showstopping cherry.

Don’t forget the pink azaleas, coming soon.

Easter (aka, the moveable feast) always falls on the first Sunday following the Paschal full moon. This year, Easter is celebrated on Sunday, April 9. If you’re planning to hide eggs, careful where you stash the pink ones.

Today has been a day dropped out of June into April.     L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Windy Poplars

 

April Shower

According to Smithsonian magazine, the Lyrid meteor shower is one of the 10 most “dazzling” events for stargazers in 2023. This year’s shower peaks on Saturday, April 22 (Earth Day).

“Observers are usually able to see about 18 meteors per hour in a clear, dark sky,” the article states, “though on rare occasions, the Lyrids can surprise viewers with as many as 100 meteors in an hour.”

At 6 percent illumination, the waxing crescent moon should make for favorable viewing conditions.

As for a clear sky? We’ll see. Or, we won’t.  PS

The Naturalist

The Naturalist

A Most Wonderful Plant

Unique to the Carolina wilds, the Venus flytrap is a botanical marvel

Story and Photographs by Todd Pusser

The year was 1860, and an industrious biologist was busy conducting experiments on a strange carnivorous plant in his backyard greenhouse in Downe, England. Plants that trapped and fed on other living organisms flamed the imaginations of 18th century biologists and the general public alike. Having traveled the world and written about many of its natural wonders, the biologist had recently become enthralled with a carnivorous sundew that grew in a forest near his home. He questioned how such a plant came to rely on the tissues of insects captured within its sticky tentacles for sustenance.

What began as a simple scientific hypothesis quickly blossomed into an obsession. When a friend, Dr. Joseph Hooker, director of the world-famous Kew Gardens, provided him with another botanical bestiary for study, his obsession became all-consuming.

The plant in question had been discovered 100 years before in the piney woods near Wilmington, North Carolina. The Colonial governor of the Tarheel state at that time, Arthur Dobbs, penned its first description in 1759 and marveled how the “great wonder of the vegetable world” possessed the ability to catch a fly between its modified leaves, like a spring trap. Several years later, that vegetable wonder became known as the Venus flytrap.

And the biologist who was working diligently trying to understand the mechanics of the flytrap’s carnivorous behavior in that backyard greenhouse? His name was Charles Darwin.

Lying flat on my belly, beneath towering pines and the brilliant blue sky of a humid August afternoon, I couldn’t help but think of Darwin as I closely examined a small grasshopper struggling within the vise-like grip of a large flytrap. With each twitch of the leg, the flytrap pressed its toothy green leaves more tightly around the struggling insect.

The ambient air temperature was somewhere north of ridiculous. Wiping sweat from my brow, I intently focused my camera lens on the miniature drama unfolding down on the forest floor. Grasshoppers had been particularly abundant that day, with hundreds of young nymphs hopping about my feet as I carefully walked across a Brunswick County pine savannah, searching for orchids to photograph. Flytraps had not been on my radar, but when I noticed the botanical carnivory playing out beneath a golden clump of wiregrass, I couldn’t resist snapping a few frames.

The young grasshopper finally stopped struggling, seemingly resigned to its fate. Magnified many times larger by the optics of my macro lens, the fanged snarl that clamped tightly around the doomed insect instantly reminded me of Audrey, the sentient man-eating plant from 1986’s musical/horror/comedy Little Shop of Horrors, a movie whose lead character design was inspired by the very plant I was currently photographing. It would take days for the flytrap to produce enough enzymes to fully digest this large meal.

It was likely Charles Darwin’s father, Erasmus, who planted the seed, so to speak, for his son’s obsession with carnivorous plants. The elder Darwin had examined, firsthand, the workings of Venus flytraps, not long after the species had been described. Writing in a 1789 poem titled The Botanic Garden, he described how the plant’s leaves possessed “a wonderful contrivance to prevent depredations of insects,” later elaborating “that when an insect creeps upon them, they fold up, and crush or pierce it to death.”

Decades later, his son would place small pieces of meat and drops of sugar water on a flytrap and eventually discover that it took a stimulation of two hair-like structures, nestled on the interior lobes of its leaves, within 20 seconds of each other, to trigger the closing of the trap. 

Growing in acidic, nutrient-poor soils where other plants struggle to survive, Venus flytraps are found only within a 100-mile radius of Wilmington, North Carolina, and nowhere else on the planet. The reasons for this extreme limited distribution are not known. What is more certain is the fact that these charismatic perennials are becoming more and more rare across the landscape. In North Carolina, Venus flytraps once grew naturally in 20 counties. Today, they are found in just 12. The primary reason for their decline is habitat loss. That portion of the state is rapidly being converted into housing developments, fast-food restaurants and strip malls. Despite carrying a felony offense, poaching also contributes to the flytrap’s demise.

Nevertheless, where populations of the plant persist, their numbers can be surprisingly high. Years back, I had the unique opportunity to visit one such spot deep in the heart of Fort Bragg. Accompanied by a group of biologists and munitions specialists with the United States Army, I was able to examine a sloping hillside literally carpeted with hundreds upon hundreds of flytraps. The plants thrived there due in large part to the persistent fires caused by the frequent bombing of the land by the military. 

In 1875, Charles Darwin published his decades-long research on the Venus flytrap and other carnivorous plants in a book titled Insectivorous Plants. Though the volume did not shake the foundations of scientific thought the way his earlier book The Origin of the Species had, it did serve as a template for future studies on carnivorous plants. In the chapter describing the flytrap, the normally reserved biologist and progenitor of the scientific theory survival of the fittest declared the plant “one of the most wonderful in the world.”

Back in the Brunswick County pine forest, I get up off the ground with camera in hand. Flipping through the images on the LCD, I pause at a close-up of a green toothy maw wrapped around the body of the tiny grasshopper and am instantly filled with childlike wonder of this botanical carnivore. I smile and shake my head, trying in vain to process how such a plant evolved. A Venus flytrap is indeed the most wonderful plant in the world.  PS

Naturalist and photographer Todd Pusser grew up in Eagle Springs. He works to document the extraordinary diversity of life both near and far. His images can be found at www.ToddPusser.com.

PinePitch

PinePitch

Broadway the Callaway

Liz Callaway has played starring roles in Baby, Miss Saigon and Cats, and was the singing voice of Anya in the animated film Anastasia. Callaway is an Emmy Award winner; she’s been nominated for a Tony award; and, has just released her latest album, To Steve with Love: Liz Callaway Celebrates Sondheim. Sandhills Repertory Theatre brings Callaway to the Lee Auditorium stage at Pinecrest High School, 250 Voit Gilmore Lane, Southern Pines, on Saturday, April 29, at 7:30 p.m. for one performance only. Admission is $30, and premium seating is $95. A percentage of net profits will be donated to the Food Bank of N.C. Tickets are available at the Sunrise Theater box office, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines, or go to www.sandhillsrep.org.

No Strings Attached

The Paperhand Puppet Intervention, an award-winning puppet troupe, presents “A World of Wonder” at the Fair Barn, 200 Beulah Hill Road S., Pinehurst, from 1 p.m. to 2:30 p.m. on Sunday, April 16. The performance features Paperhand’s fantastical creatures and characters as animals of all shapes and sizes fill the stage. For information go to www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Heritage Day

The Moore County Historical Association’s annual rite of spring on Saturday, April 15, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., showcases the furnished Bryant House, circa 1820, and the 1760s Joel McLendon Cabin, the oldest dwelling on its original site in Moore County. Both houses will be open, and there will be 18th and 19th century crafters, farm animal petting area, live music and food. There will also be “camps” of both American Revolution and Civil War re-enactors, demonstrations of activities like quilting, weaving, cooking and woodworking. Admission is free. The Bryant House is at 3361 Mt. Carmel Rd., Carthage.

Spring Strings

The Sandhills Community College Music Department will present its annual spring concert featuring students and faculty on Thursday, April 27, at 7 p.m. in BPAC’s McPherson Blackbox Theater, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Admission is free but seating is limited. For information and tickets go to www.sandhillsbpac.com or www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Azalea Cottage by Jennifer Walker

Art for Art’s Sake

The opening reception for the new exhibit — It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood — at the Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen, will be on Friday, April 7, from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. For information go to www.artistleague.org.

 

Home & Garden Tour

The Southern Pines Garden Club is hosting its 75th Home & Garden Tour on April 15th with the proceeds supporting the restoration of pastureland surrounding the recently renovated barn and stable area at the 100-year-old Weymouth Center. From the dramatic color schemes of a remodeled kitchen to a recently completed two-level covered terrace, the tour features six “idea” houses and home gardens — including the home featured in this month’s PineStraw — bound to inspire. Tickets are $25 online at www.southernpinesgardenclub.com or $30 at selected locations that include Bella Filati Yarns, 277 N.E. Broad St., Southern Pines; the Sandhills Woman’s Exchange, 15 Azalea Rd., Pinehurst; and Eloise Trading Company, 111 W. Main St. Aberdeen.

      

Not Those Sopranos

It’s organized song, not organized crime. The Metropolitan Opera graces the screen three times in April at the Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Falstaff, which seems particularly well-suited to April Fools’ Day, will be shown at 12:30 p.m. on the first day of the month. Richard Strauss’ most popular opera, Der Rosenkavalier, can be seen on Saturday, April 15, at 12 p.m., and the operatic retelling of the story of Emile Griffith, Champion, will be shown Saturday, April 29, at 12:55 p.m. For more information call (910) 420-2549 or visit www.sunrisetheater.com.

Cultivate a Little Spring

The Sandhills Farm Tour, showcasing four farms in the Carthage and Cameron areas, takes place Saturday, April 15, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. The tour is self-driving, rain or shine, and family-friendly with demonstrations, children’s activities and farm products for sale. The tour is sponsored by the N.C. Cooperative Extension and the Master Gardener Program of Moore County. It’s free but ticketed. For information and tickets go to sandhillsfarmtour2023.eventbrite.com.

China and the International Order

The James E. Holshouser Speaker Series continues with Gordon G. Chang, the author of The Coming Collapse of China and Nuclear Showdown: North Korea Takes on the World, on Tuesday, April 4, from 4:30 p.m. to 7:00 p.m., at BPAC’s Owens Auditorium, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Chang, who lived and worked in China and Hong Kong for almost two decades, has contributed articles to Newsweek, The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, among other publications. He is a frequent guest on Fox News, Fox Business Network, Newsmax, CNN and MSNBC. Tickets for his presentation “China Shakes the World: A Revolutionary Remaking of the International Order” are $50 per person for general admission or $75 per person, including a copy of his most recent book. There will be a reception and book signing after the program along with a Q&A. For information go to www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Focus on Food

Focus on Food

Mademoiselle Brioche

A sweet bread for Easter

Story and Photograph by Rose Shewey

If “brioche” conjures up images of burger buns, and little else, have you even lived yet?

Sure, brioche can be a party girl. She makes fabulous burger and sandwich bread, no doubt, but that’s just scratching the surface of what brioche is capable of. Yes, she can be your flip-flop-wearing, tank top-sporting drinking buddy, but if you ever had chocolate-glazed diplomats, you know she can also be your sophisticated wedding date in a lacy dress with kitten heels.

Or, as I am about to show you, brioche can effortlessly turn into your folksy, linen-trousered best friend with dangling earrings, one that is always full of surprises. Brioche is truly multifaceted but rarely ordinary.

For those of you who don’t geek out over baked goods, allow me to explain: Brioche is a delicate, buttery yeast bread (technically, it is a Viennoiserie), similar to everyday yeast breads, but picture a downy cloud made of fine-spun cotton and you have yourself some epic brioche. It also happens to be one of the easier bread recipes to make — if you own some sort of kneading gadget, which I do not.

I stubbornly hand-knead my dough. Nothing is quite as meditative and grounding as using your bare hands to make bread; feeling the texture transform between your fingers from powdery, gooey and slippery to a satisfyingly malleable shape. Making dough is the grown-up equivalent of a toddler’s sensory bin, if ever I have seen one. Bonus points if your dough later doubles in size, which it hopefully will, and you have passed the halfway mark to a feathery brioche, whichever shape or form you decide to process it into.

With Easter, or Ostara, on the horizon — you know, that time of the year that marks the awakening of the earth and colors the land in lovely shades of pastel — many cultures celebrate with the tradition of braided yeast bread. The interpretation of its symbolism is wide-ranging and differs significantly, depending on the Kulturkreis. For me, it’s simply a family tradition that brings back memories of my grandma’s kitchen; the sweet perfume of freshly scraped vanilla beans, the earthy scent of fermenting yeast and us kids sticking our fingers into the sugar-lemon glaze bowl, which ultimately got us banished from the room. We didn’t call it brioche then; I didn’t connect the dots until later on, when I went on my own baking journey, and of all the things brioche can be, the Easter braid will forever be my favorite.

 

Mocha Hazelnut Brioche Braid

(Makes 1 braided loaf)

(Basic dough recipe adapted from
Bouchon Bakery)

For the dough:

270 grams all-purpose flour

6 grams instant yeast

30 grams granulated sugar

7 grams salt

130 grams eggs (roughly 3 medium sized eggs)

45 grams milk

120 grams unsalted butter, cut into 1/2 inch cubes

For the filling:

150 grams finely ground hazelnuts

30 grams sugar

30 grams chocolate spread

5 grams cinnamon

50 grams grated apple

60 grams brewed coffee

8 grams freshly squeezed lemon juice

Place flour and yeast in a large mixing bowl and whisk to combine. Add remaining ingredients except for the butter and mix for 5 minutes by hand, or with the help of a stand mixer with dough hook. Continue kneading for 30 minutes while slowly adding in small chunks of butter. Fully incorporate each chunk of butter before you add the next. The dough will be slightly sticky at this point; remove it from the bowl (use a scraper if needed) and place it on a lightly floured surface. Pat, stretch and fold the dough, then place it back in the bowl, cover and allow to rest for 1 hour at room temperature. Repeat the pat, stretch and fold before moving the dough to the refrigerator and chilling overnight.

Combine all ingredients for the mocha hazelnut filling and set aside. Take the dough out of the fridge and set on a lightly floured surface. Roll out the dough to form a rectangle (about 30×45 centimeters) and cover evenly with the mocha hazelnut filling. Roll up the dough tightly lengthwise, then cut it in half lengthwise and entwine both strings to form a braid. Move your braid to a baking sheet and allow to rest at room temperature for 30-45 minutes. Preheat oven to 325F, apply egg wash, if desired, and bake for 30-35 minutes or until braid turns a light golden color. .  PS

German native Rose Shewey is a food stylist and food photographer. To see more of her work visit her website, suessholz.com.

The Pursuit of the Old

The Pursuit of the Old

Hot takes on a venerable craft

By Cara Mathis     Photographs By Cara Mathis & John Gessner

Have you jumped on the thrifting bandwagon yet? Thrifting — or secondhand shopping — has become increasingly popular in the last few years, both for clothing and home furnishings. Not only is the vintage aesthetic back en vogue, but post-pandemic supply chain delays, coupled with rising material costs and record high inflation, have made thrifting all but necessary for a lot of people. Plus, the pursuit of old has become a popular way to not only cut costs and avoid lengthy production timelines, but also reduce carbon footprints and create long-term sustainability. And those are things every generation can put their money behind.

Believe it or not, there are many of us who have been part of the thrifting world since long before it was cool. If you’re just now developing your secondhand savoir faire, your pre-owned prowess, your nostalgia know-how (shall I go on?), I’ve got a few tips for making the most of your thrifting endeavors.

Develop a Discerning Eye

In the world of thrifting, you’ll inevitably hear one line over and over: If you don’t buy it when you see it, it won’t be there when you come back. And for the most part that’s true. But there’s a fine line between being a collector and becoming a hoarder. My number one tip for avoiding the latter: Shop. Seems counterintuitive, right? But I’m not talking about buying. I’m talking about good ol’ fashioned window shopping. Browse internet sites, peruse department and antique store aisles, and really get a feel for what’s out there — and what it costs. When you do, you’ll eventually develop an understanding of value (both assigned and perceived), and you’ll be able to spot a real treasure when you see one. Like that $85 Henkel Harris dresser that runs for $3,000 outside of your local Goodwill. Get to know high-end brands, if only so you can easily identify them out in the “wild.” When you’ve developed an eye, it makes it that much easier to decide when to jump on a deal and when to leave it for the next treasure hunter. 

 

Get Creative

One of the best things about secondhand goods, especially the vintage kind, is that they’re usually of a higher quality than most of what’s produced these days. After all, it’s widely agreed that “they just don’t make ’em like they used to.” But shopping secondhand also offers the opportunity to repurpose vintage goods into new and unexpected uses. Crystal ashtrays become the perfect paint palette or jewelry holder for the non-smoker (use those notches as paintbrush rests or to keep necklaces from getting tangled); brass or ceramic toast racks make the perfect mail holders or letter organizers; vintage books add texture and interest to shelf styling; and vintage flower frogs let you display paintbrushes and pens in an accessible aesthetic. Don’t overlook that special treasure just because you don’t need it for its intended purpose. Instead, breathe new life into outdated-yet-lovely finds.

Pro-tip: Repurpose once-loved treasures into new uses to give them a new raison d’etre.

 

Skirt the Trends

Along with its environmental impact, fast fashion has meant the downfall of a personalized aesthetic. Not only do we seldom tailor clothes anymore, but the home and fashion industry is forever dictating which styles are trendy and modish, thrusting them into our vantage point on carefully calculated trestles and shelves. That means that your home looks every bit like the one down the street and the one down the street from that. Same goes for your wardrobe. Thrifting gives us access to unique items we’d never encounter in department stores, from countries we’ve never visited and eras we weren’t even alive to see. 

Pro-tip: Mix vintage and modern if you’re trying to avoid making your home look like grandma’s (unless that’s your thing; no judgment). Don’t be afraid to complement masculine black furniture and modern lines with a few feminine pieces. Heck, even ruffles and bows can feel subdued with the right surroundings.

 

Support Local Businesses and Charities

Although thrifting is now considered mainstream, the big box stores haven’t yet figured out how to break into the market. And that’s a good thing. It means that thrifting is still a local industry. So when you shop secondhand, you’re supporting local small businesses, independent sellers, and important local charities. When you shop at local charities’ retail arms like Habitat ReStore and Coalition Resale Shop, you improve the whole community by providing both monetary donations and opportunities to local residents in need. And don’t forget to check Facebook Marketplace, eBay and Etsy for local deals, as well as local sellers like ReSouled Vintage in Southern Pines and Aberdeen’s House of York. Not only will you help put food on their tables, you’ll keep the local economy rolling.

Pro-tip: When searching resale sites like eBay and Facebook Marketplace, remember that people don’t always know what they have. Search brand names as well as ‘adjacent’ terms. For example, “Henredon dresser,” “cabinet,” “hutch,” “shelves,” and “dresser.”

 

A Vintage Lover’s Mecca and a Chance to Give Back

Moore County is practically overflowing with opportunities to donate, consign and shop secondhand. Some personal favorites include Antiquely Chic, Bees Knees, Medleyanna’s, Habitat ReStore, A Bit of Couture, Design Market, The Rusty Pelican, Old Hardware Antiques, Sullivan’s, This Old House, Practical Posh, Pastimes, Community Thrift Store, Emmanuel Thrift, Helping the Orphans, Whispering Pines Thrift Store, and Coalition Resale Shops, to name just a few. And don’t forget the biannual Cameron Antiques Fair, hosted every April and October in Cameron, N.C. People flock to MoCo from all over the state because of its reputation for high quality vintage and resale, and being able to contribute to many of these stores’ missions is a privilege we locals tend to overlook. After all, one of the most gratifying parts of shopping secondhand is knowing you’re helping locals and creating a cycle of sustainability — and that’s especially true if you also donate used items back to the same shops and charities where you shop.

Whether you’re looking to save money or save the world, thrifting is a fun way to furnish your home or zhuzh up your wardrobe. After all, as Macklemore and Ryan Lewis delicately crooned in their 2012 song Thrift Song, “One man’s trash, that’s another man’s come up.”  PS

Cara Mathis is a Pinehurst local and a lover of all things historic, with a special affinity for vintage treasures and beautiful architecture. She lives in the historic village with her husband and young son.

Julia’s Garden

Julia’s Garden

A traveling treasure of daylilies

By Claudia Watson  Photographs by Laura Gingerich

   

Her grandmother’s old rambling garden was dense with daylilies, irises and roses — all bought with saved-up egg money and purchased through mail order.

As a young girl, Julia Connelly visited her maternal grandparents’ farm in Calypso, in eastern North Carolina, where rural life was rich with sensations reaching every direction. She’d spend hours scrambling through the farm’s massive pecan groves and the grapery, watching the livestock, and learning to loop tobacco. But none of that compared with the delight she found in her grandmother’s garden.

“I’d cut flowers for her kitchen table,” she says, looking into the distance. “She taught me how to separate the daylily and iris clumps, and we’d plant them where she wanted them. I’d have dirt under my nails for days.”

Gardening became a constant thread in Julia’s life, and daylilies followed her. She attended Peace College and later graduated from the University of Georgia with a degree in art and interior design. While working as a designer in High Point for Burlington Industries, she met Dan Connelly, a financial executive working in Greensboro for Westinghouse Credit Corporation. They enjoyed a long courtship, but when the company offered Dan a quick transfer to Orlando, they decided to marry and move — all within a month.

“I finally gave up trying to work,” she says of the frequent challenges of relocations, first with Westinghouse and then when Dan joined Citibank. But she didn’t give up her daylily collection — the precious cargo moved with her to their homes in Orlando, Pittsburgh, Atlanta and then, California.

“I dug every clump and boxed them up for the moving truck when we moved to California,” she recalls. “I amassed quite a collection.”

Soon, Dan’s career with Citibank took the family, with three babies, overseas. Korea was the first of 27 consecutive years of international postings, including Indonesia, Russia, Kazakhstan and Africa.

“We always had a garden because Dan knew that was really important to me. They were gardens with lots of grass for the dogs and kids to play,” Julia says. “Our family always had a great house because he made sure of it.”

Her overseas gardens were as diverse as the locations. Their home in Jakarta was set under the dense shade of tropical heat-loving clove, mango and rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum) trees. There, a family of civets, native to the tropics, took up residence in the ceiling of their home, undoubtedly enjoying the proximity to food, including the fruit and seeds in the garden, and snakes and lizards.

Russia offered a dacha for a year in the exurbs of Moscow, which sparked Julia’s impetuous style. “It was a fun garden and raw dirt, and I took it from top to bottom in one year,” she says, savoring the accomplishment. “It was fun to research what plants would live there.”

Later they moved to an apartment overlooking Patriarch’s Ponds, a welcoming patch of green surrounded by a wide footpath and benches in central Moscow. “I missed my garden there, but I walked that park every day with the dog,” she says.

Then onto landlocked Kazakhstan, where its ancient mountains were the source of rich soil. With an arid climate, the location offered an ideal environment for planting irises and roses, and a yard full of fragrant lilacs.

    .

Their compound in Nairobi, Kenya, had massive old trees, including travelers palms (Ravenala madagascariensis) spreading their large fan-like leaves; and fruit-bearing guavas and mangos that attracted monkeys. “Despite the best intention of our security patrols and their dogs, a troop of monkeys would jump from the trees onto our roof and keep everybody crazy,” Julia laughs.

Of all the locations, Nairobi became her favorite. “The flowers were beautiful. We had lily of the Nile (Agapanthus africanus), showy bromeliads, lots of colorful orchids, and the indigenous bird of paradise (Strelitzia),” she says. “I loved growing the huge sexy staghorn ferns (Paltycerium bifurcatum) that I’d tie up in the trees. They were amazing.”

While still living in Moscow, the Connellys were determined to find a place to provide American roots for their children. So they purchased land and a large cabin at the top of a mountain near Deep Gap, not far from Boone, North Carolina, accessible only by a winding rough logging road.

“It was so remote and so beautiful,” recalls Julia. “I was excited to finally have my own garden. But deer were everywhere. They had the forest to eat but ate my garden. Little did I know. So I adapted and didn’t have a garden.”

The quiet country life, beautiful scenery and laid-back lifestyle made their mountain place a respite through their many years on the move. Then, in 2015, they began searching for a home in Pinehurst. They drove up a short asphalt access road to a house in the Country Club of North Carolina. “You couldn’t see the house from the street or the access road; it was heavily landscaped and overgrown,” she says. “But when we drove up to the entry, saw the house and those massive willow oaks, we both stopped and looked at each other.”

Forever home.

“We moved every two to three years and lived all over the world and in other people’s houses,” Julia says, looking out at the land. “This was the first place in my life, and Dan’s, because he loved it, that we called our own.”

When they settled into their home, located on 5 acres between the sixth tee and 14th green of CCNC’s Cardinal course, they wanted to rejuvenate the landscape to reclaim the beauty of the mature trees and existing azaleas, rhododendrons, camellias, cryptomeria (Cryptomeria japonica) and hollies. They hired out for tree removal, but soon realized they needed knowledgeable and regular help with the landscape. So they hired Lawrence and Elizabeth Brown to renovate the wildness that had become too much of a good a thing.

“There was a 25-year-old master plan for the grounds, and it was planted very purposefully by the previous owner. But these plants had been here from forever and long ago,” says Elizabeth, who holds a Bachelor of Science degree in horticulture and landscape design from North Carolina State University. “There was no plant maintenance to control growth, and somewhere in all those years there was a lot of random planting, particularly of invasive vines and other plant species.”

She and Lawrence, a graduate of Sandhills Community College’s horticulture program who also holds a certification in turfgrass management from the University of Massachusetts Extension, took their time carefully assessing each area of the property.

“There is so much land that it took a year and a half,” says Elizabeth. “We looked for the value that was already invested in the landscape.”

The Browns worked to rejuvenate and reshape plants rather than simply replace them. “Most areas needed restorative pruning as well as improved soil,” she says, adding that the effort took patience. “We carefully retained the large structural plants and trees, but in some cases, we edited, stripping out entire sections of overgrowth or unhealthy plants, to give us a clean canvas.”

With that action plan underway, the Connellys set a path to restore the landscape and bring it a fresh vision. But then, their forever home forever changed.

Dan was diagnosed with cancer and died in 2019.

Julia, now alone, says, “You just do what you have to do,” referring to moving forward in life. While walking through the backyard one day, she says, “I realized what I had going on in the yard was not interesting, and I decided to make it into what I wanted.”

She had always loved gardening, but also the water. “I wanted a lap pool and a place for my kids, grandkids and me to kick around for some exercise. I also wanted to give my daughter, who is handicapped, a place to enjoy with me.”

She met with Ricky Britt of Spa and Pool World in Fayetteville, who assessed the area. He recommended she enlist the assistance of Matt Ramsey, a well-known landscape architect, due to the problematic dimensions of the site.

Ramsey says of their first meeting, “She knew precisely what she wanted, but unfortunately, there were issues with setbacks on the golf course, fences, permits, and things like that. It gets involved.”

But Julia was determined, and Ramsey made it work. The extensive plan included the pool with sloped beach access to make entry more accessible, a spa, fire pit, pergola and a formal garden — all within view from the back of the home and framed by zoysia turf to give the grandchildren and dogs plenty of play space.

Then COVID hit. “It took the wind out of everything,” says Ramsey. “Between the loss of workforce, manufacturing delays and supply chain issues, it was a difficult time.”

The project took about a year and a half. Landscaper Richie Cole, the owner of Knats Creek Nursery in Jackson Springs, was tapped to construct the hardscapes. The Browns’ work continues as they plant the new beds around the pool and maintain the home’s landscape. Julia says working alongside Elizabeth each week for a couple of hours is the best part of the day. “We talk about family, work hard, and laugh a lot.”

Despite Julia herself being diagnosed with cancer late in 2021, the project continued. “She’d sit at her window watching us or go out and piddle around in her garden,” says Ramsey, also a cancer survivor. “I think having us bang on her door every day was therapeutic to her. I really admire her. She didn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself. Instead, she stayed actively involved with the project.”

It’s sunrise, and a single fluffy cloud glows red, casting a rosy-hued blush on the Connelly landscape.

Sipping her morning coffee, Julia sits on a porch swing on the covered breezeway framed by fragrant evergreen confederate jasmine (Trachelospermun jasminoides) vines. It’s a retreat that overlooks her garden, where she plays with her two dogs, Ace and Tripod, and listens to the songbirds, watching them fly tree to tree.

The breezeway garden is the showiest of the garden rooms. It offers a relaxed and tousled vibe with a canvas of brilliant yellows and oranges, pinks and reds, and blues to match the sky.

“We moved our entire life. So, this is my garden, my way, and I love it,” she says with certainty while showing me the way. With a clean bill of health, Julia is plotting changes to her spring garden and new ways to annoy the deer.

“I’m going to remove those,” she says, pointing to lifeless limelight hydrangeas munched on by the resident herd. “Those aren’t going to work here, despite my fence. I’ll find something their tastebuds don’t like.”

Here, annuals are interspersed with perennials and shrubs for continuous color throughout the growing season. Carefree daylilies, not surprisingly, have made their way back into Julia’s life. She combines the vigorous perennial with other plants rather than in separate beds.

With daylilies, Julia’s a bit like a kid in a candy store. When she sees one she likes, she’ll buy it or, in some cases, dig it out of a ditch. A self-confessed “country girl” and plant forager, she says with a wink, “It’s more fun.”

The botanical name for the daylily, Hemerocallis, means “beauty for a day.” Most daylily flowers open in the morning and die by nightfall. However, all daylilies have a rapid growth rate, including the ubiquitous tawny orange “ditch lilies” (Hemerocallis fulva).

“One of the reasons I moved inside the fence with my garden was so I could have my daylilies, but the deer found them, too, and ate all the flowers,” she says, adding that she uses a liquid deer repellent weekly, which helps. “I do love my daylilies, especially when I’m the first one to discover them.”

A good-sized daylily plant can produce hundreds of blossoms over several weeks. Its foliage appears in early spring and remains for months before the flowers bloom. After flowering, all daylily foliage goes through a tatty phase and can be trimmed by half. Soon, new leaves replace the old, conveniently filling vacancies in the garden.

    

Annuals and a diversity of native perennial and pollinator-friendly plants known for their exquisite colors, fragrance and hardiness fill Julia’s garden. “Look, these are huge,” she says of her zinnias.

“I love cutting and bringing them into the house every day,” she says while clipping the stem above the leaf node to encourage new flowers.

Within view of her porch swing is a bright orange flower that she says is a favorite of her hummingbirds, a blackberry lily (Belamcanda chinensis or Iris domestica). “I got the seeds from Elizabeth and scattered them,” she says. “Now I keep the pods to share seeds,” offering me a pod. Also referred to as leopard lily, blackberry lily is a perennial iris with wiry stems that may grow up to 4 feet and sprout bright orange and red-spotted flowers, hence the nickname.

An asymmetrical island bed near the breezeway is anchored by azaleas and a newly planted lilac chaste tree (Vitex angus-castus), a replacement for a faltering old Japanese maple. Fritillaries and swallowtails make arcs around the showy coneflowers, lantana, scarlet bee balm (Monarda) and zinnias, alighting, again and again to feast on the abundant nectar.

Nearby, the blue-green pool looks inviting. Still, only tiny sea turtles, mosaic tiles on the bottom of the pool, are enjoying it.

Along the curved bluestone walk adjacent to the pool is an herb garden, deemed the hottest spot in Moore County by Elizabeth due to the full sun exposure and the heat radiating from the stone. Here, a graceful teak Lutyens bench purchased decades ago in Indonesia offers a relaxing spot to watch the native bees and skippers buzz with affection over the fragrant lavender, rosemary, ornamental onion and salvia.

It’s a short stroll to the side of the home, where a dreamy allée of majestic crape myrtles (Lagerstroemia indica) provides a cooling retreat. These trees, planted 25 years ago, form a towering canopy bent low by the weight of their pink blooms. “You don’t see this often,” says Elizabeth. “They’re magnificent, especially when they’re in bloom.”

Julia’s daughter took this path in her wedding gown on the way to the home’s terrace where she was married. “You can’t imagine how beautiful that moment was for me,” says Julia, later sharing the wedding photo with me.

In the moist-to-dry woodland area of the allée, azaleas, periwinkle (Vinca minor), Lenten roses (Hellebore) and ferns co-exist with a tropical-looking Asian native plant that resembles a hosta. “Take a peek in here,” Julia says while pushing aside the broad green leaves of a Japanese sacred lily (Roheda japonica). “The fruit looks like a tiny pineapple with red berries.”

The upright vase-shaped clumps of the lily are slow-growing, making it a perfect stand-in for hostas in a shady area, and as Julia says with glee, “It’s not deer food!”

The full-sun areas of the landscape are a gardener’s paradise. The thick green carpet of zoysia grass gives character and dimension to the home, the plantings and the structures around it. Soft boxwoods, flowering camellias (Camellia sasanqua), dense spreading yews, ferns and liriope form the foundation plantings. Flanks of yaupon hollies line the poolside and golf course edge of the property, providing a background of dark green for the colorful flowers.

“We hand-tip them as needed and don’t use the hedge trimmer,” says Elizabeth. “That type of care keeps the plant healthy and gives it a much softer, natural appearance.”

The space is filled with native purple beautyberry (Callicarpa americana), red twig dogwood (Cornus sericea), redbuds, and tough beardtongue (Penstemon), which Julia lets spread in this wild area of the property. In addition, Mexican bush sage (Salvia leucantha), a shrubby perennial prized for its dense, willowy arching stems and lavender flower spikes, lights up areas closer to the access road.

“It’s what I’ve always wanted for a garden. If I see something I like, whether it’s at Walmart, a garden center or a catalog, I’ll plant it and give it a try,” she says. At that moment, I look down and see several blooming daylilies at our feet — surprisingly undiscovered by the deer — and look up to see her smile.

Daylilies are strong, adaptable, and vigorous, like Julia.

Claudia Watson is a frequent contributor to PineStraw and The Pilot and finds joy in each day, often in a garden.

Art of the State

Art of the State

Creative Genius

The reclusive Mel Chin creates deeply engaging artwork at an international scale

By Liza Roberts

   
Wake, 2018

The only visual artist in North Carolina ever to win a MacArthur Genius award, Mel Chin manages to hide in plain sight in his home state, where only the most art-informed even know he’s here.

Tucked into Higgins, N.C., a distant corner of Yancey County near the Tennessee border, this world-renowned artist has space and time for his creativity to expand and his engagement with the wider world to ignite. His massive public sculpture, augmented-reality, subversive video, collage and interactive installations address issues as wide-ranging as climate change, political division, the environment, community health and the Black Lives Matter movement.

Chin says his conceptual work is a tool for civic engagement and a way to raise awareness of social issues. Through art, he believes questions can be asked and possibilities raised in uniquely effective ways. “I have always described the practice of art as providing an option, as opposed to an answer,” he says, sitting back in the shade of a porch at his stone house. Ivy and overgrown shrubs blur its edges as the Cane River rushes nearby.

He was here in 2019 when the MacArthur people called to tell him of his remarkable award, including its no-strings-attached check for $650,000. Chin “is redefining the parameters of contemporary art and challenging assumptions about the forms it can take, the issues it can address, and the settings it can inhabit,” the Foundation said in announcing its decision.

“When people ask about what inspires you,” Chin says, “I no longer speak in terms of inspiration, but of being compelled. Because how could you not?” The issues that compel him are not necessarily new, he points out, but they’re in the news, which provides new opportunities.

   
Cabinet of Craving, 2012

Remote as he is, much of Chin’s work is done in collaboration with others, near and far. His 60-foot-tall animatronic sculpture Wake, which resembles both a shipwreck and a whale skeleton, was created with University of North Carolina Asheville students and was installed in Asheville’s South Slope after forming the focal point of a larger installation in Manhattan’s Times Square. There it was accompanied by Unmoored, a mixed-reality mobile app he designed with Microsoft that depicted the square as if it were 26 feet under water, submerged by rising sea levels. It was one of several installations in a New York City-wide survey of Chin’s works in 2018. 

The creative expression of scientific information and the use of technology to inspire empathy is a Chin hallmark. One ongoing project uses plants to remediate toxic metals from the soil; a Mint Museum installation used oceanographic data to create “cinematic portraits” of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans; and a viral, community-based work circulates hand-drawn hundred dollar bills to draw attention to lead contamination in soil, water and housing. “You could say that I’m involved with the process of bridging science and community,” he says. 

Revival Field (Diorama), 2019, mixed media, 40 x 66 x 8 in

Community in the traditional sense seems far removed from his remote corner of the world, but Chin’s dogged social conscience, regular travel, wide network and the connected reality of 21st-century life keep him plugged in. He’s turned the stately 1931 stone mansion at the center of his compound into a rambling archive and workshop for his many artistic pursuits. The mansion was originally built as a library and community center for the creation and distribution of local crafts. It became part of a regional study on poverty and was visited in 1934 by Eleanor Roosevelt; it also served as a school and was used as a birthing hospital. The place had fallen into disuse and disrepair when Chin acquired it in the late 1990s as an inexpensive place to store his work. A few years later, he left New York, where he had lived for many years, and moved here himself — not into the mansion, but into the relatively modest house a few feet away, one originally built for the hospital’s chief doctor. 

Etching Revival Ramp, 1996

Chin says he was drawn to this part of the country not just for space and the chance to live deeply within the natural world, but also by the region’s history of racial injustice and his own lifelong commitment to fighting it. The American-born child of Chinese immigrant parents, Chin grew up in Houston in the 1950s, worked at his parents’ grocery store in the city’s predominantly African-American Fifth Ward, and became aware of and thoughtful about issues surrounding race from an early age. 

“To be engaged in the world,” he says, “it’s OK to be in places where the engagement is very real and uncomfortable.” Lately, that engagement transcends geography. “It’s an important time,” Chin says. “We’re at this bridge. It’s about consolidating a commitment to actually begin again, listen more and reorient actions, and respond.” The role of an artist, he says, is to “excavate” the questions such issues provoke, provide a starting point and draw collective attention. Still, Chin points out that from his perspective, the “job description of artist” is constantly evolving: “People think it’s kind of funny when I say that I’m still trying to be one, to be an artist. But I mean it, actually.”  OH

This is an excerpt from Art of the State: Celebrating the Art of North Carolina, published by UNC Press.

The Renaissance Man

The Renaissance Man

Painting the town at a gallop

By Jenna Biter

Photographs by John Gessner

    Early morning grays glom onto Southern Pines like a dull watercolor. Around a corner, at the foot of the town, where Broad Street’s one-ways become less sure of themselves, brushstrokes of fiery orange, bronze and manganese pierce through the fog.

Applied with roller brushes and aerosol cans, the warm colors explode from a horse’s flank in the mural at Harbour Place. Beneath a soaring hawk, the stallion sprints for the edge of his 40-foot pasture but never closes the gap. Since Nick Napoletano completed the composition — before fall’s green turned winter brown — the horse has galloped for the future but stays forever in the present, immortalized on concrete block.

Last November, when Napoletano was still summoning the mural from paint cans and brushes, he would break for lunch just after noon. Abandoning the scissor lift, the 30-something artist explained his composition over a hamburger and a ginger beer. “It’s based off the first stop motion, which is a horse running,” he said, referring to Eadweard Muybridge’s 19th century version of a GIF. “And it’s playing with the idea of time.”

Between bites, and in less than a sentence, Napoletano speeds through a theory on time, connecting the dots between something like Einstein’s relativity, quantum physics, and his mural in the Sandhills.

“I am not trying to pigeonhole viewers into the experience,” he said. “Some people just want to see horses, and that’s beautiful, too.”

   

Back up in the air at Harbour Place, Napoletano secured a hot pink respirator over his mouth, preparing to re-enter his kaleidoscopic world. He maneuvered the scissor lift, ascending to an uncharted block. “Stairway to Heaven” blared from the portable speaker beside him.

Next. Napoletano hit the forward arrow.

“How do you turn off Zeppelin?” Steve Harbour, an owner of the plaza, yelled from below.

Napoletano pulled down his respirator. “This isn’t your show,” said the voice from above, grinning like the kid who had just scribbled on the living room wall.

Tool came on, and the artist thrummed his fingers on the lift’s handrail. His even rhythm and a well-worn tour T-shirt gave away a musical history. He’d been a drummer, playing in bands since he was 12. But later, music took a backseat to an interest in architecture.

“I really wanted to build buildings — and now I paint them.” Napoletano said. “Growing up, my grandmother owned a gallery and, as little kids, we used to fiddle around with watercolors and what have you, but I didn’t take it seriously.”

   

It was a high school art teacher who convinced Napoletano to create a portfolio over the summer after junior year. “I was like, ‘Well, let’s roll the dice and see if we can do this,’” Napoletano said.

While studying at the University of Hartford, barely a morning’s commute away from his hometown of Colchester, Connecticut, he collected credits in painting, design and sculpture, collaging them together into an unconventional Bachelor of Fine Arts.

With the quick chh of an offhand spray — as if he understood brevity was the key to the beauty that came from his hands — Napoletano hopped down from the lift and backpedaled to size up his colossus. “We’re going to mood-up that corner,” he said mostly to himself, motioning in a general direction before climbing back to work.

“My style has shifted, and I feel like I’m a little bit manic, and I get bored really easily,” Napoletano said, as if trying on the theory. “Not actually manic, but I have a tendency to want to see if I can do new things.

“When I lived in Italy, I was seeing all the art there and learned that Michelangelo and all these brilliant minds were really young when they were making their paintings and sculptures,” he said. A deep breath transports him in place and time, back to a young man asking a young man’s question. “I’m 19, 20 years old. If I can’t paint like them at this age, and we have more technology, then what the hell am I doing?”

    

In an attempt to touch the hem of the Italian masters, Napoletano asked his then-girlfriend to teach him how to paint with oils and poured money into a canvas the size of a billboard.

“And that was all the money I had,” he said with his eyebrows raised, taken aback by his naivete until he remembered he already knew the ending. “I took the painting, shipped it out to Michigan to a gallery and, within two weeks, it sold and gave me the money to start my career.”

But galleries and private collections were only a way station for Napoletano. He supersized his art, upgrading to public works large enough for the gods but meant to be viewed by the masses. With each surface, he experiments with mediums, tools and composition, an aerosol version of the 30-something artist who stared at the ceiling of a chapel in the 1500s. “So then, it was like, ‘OK, can I teach myself how to paint with spray cans?’”

Napoletano has finished dozens of murals, combining spray and exterior paints into layers, from his first commission in Athens, Georgia, to the hyperrealist portraits and bodies in motion that dance across Charlotte and Denver, to a blue eye in central Pennsylvania so big it could pierce the heavens.

“Every year or two, I get bored and frustrated and need to do something else,” Napoletano said. “I want to build this giant stained-glass piece, so I’m trying to put that out into the ether. I feel like if I’m not in the unknown, then it’s not worth it, right?”  PS

View Nick Napoletano’s artwork at napoletanoart.com.

Jenna Biter is a writer and military wife in the Sandhills. She can be reached at jennabiter@protonmail.com.

Adam’s Garden of Eatin’

Adam’s Garden of Eatin’

The dark side of delicious

By Deborah Salomon

Photographs by John Gessner

     

Black coffee: Sophisticated.

Black beans: Ole!

Black-eyed peas: Happy New Year, y’all.

The little black dress may be a classic, but a kitchen with matte black cabinets, textured black granite countertops and black floormats? Stunning. Just what family chef Adam Wimberly wanted. His goal: “Something masculine.”

Black isn’t the only surprise at Adam and Jessica Wimberly’s home — a charming cottage in a gated golf community, its exterior belying the scope and originality within. Just inside the front door, Adam’s home office has navy blue walls and ceiling. The front hallway is sized to accommodate an ancestral European armoire, big as a British schooner, which houses a bar, Adam’s g-g-g-g-great grandfather’s sword and other military artifacts. The 280-year-old behemoth was a gift from Adam’s mother before she passed away.

In this house the master suite opens onto the living room, with 20-foot ceilings bisected by a second-story balcony. Then, the living room opens onto a terrace where water splashes from two fountains, the larger a COVID project.

      

Upstairs, a guest bedroom and a home gym are above-average size. And a big, comfy home theater, circa Tony Soprano, has a sectional sofa, blackout window curtain, wall-mounted screen and professional projector, plus posters from their favorite flicks.

Besides suiting the Wimberlys’ requirements and tastes, the house and its location represent a lifestyle adjustment for the vibrant family. “We were pioneers in Seven Lakes West, lived there for 20 years in a traditional two-story across from the lake where we had a pontoon boat,” Adam says. Eventually, the boat lost its thrill.

Events had them driving to town often. Son Asher would soon attend Pinecrest High School. Time for a change, not to be confused with still-distant retirement.

Adam, a corporate headhunter for the pulp and paper business, could locate his home office anywhere. Jessica no longer taught middle school. A visit to friends at National Golf Club sparked interest. “We could see ourselves enjoying this neighborhood,” Jessica says.

They found a house built in 2007, with yellow walls and a traditional kitchen. Jessica liked the central vacuum. Adam liked the small yard requiring minimal care. They both liked the movie room. A good omen: The house was occupied by the same family friends who had hosted their engagement party. And, its dimensions (4,000 square feet) and unusual layout provided options for displaying family artifacts with Jessica as docent, sharing the history of ancient oars and the 48-star American flag on the staircase landing.

   

They took the plunge, trading lake view for a fairway in 2017. Out with pastels and broadloom, in with soothing (now trendy) shades of gray, sand and beige framed by vanilla crown moldings. Informal, comfy and contemporary characterizes most furnishings, with an emphasis on dark woods, leather and other textures, including a rug woven from cowhide. Lamps and ceiling fixtures double as conversation pieces, along with a battered barn door rising from the living room mantel, representing Jessica’s Moore County farm connections. She was born here and has lived here, or nearby, practically forever.

     

Certain pieces, however, steal the show. The bed dominating the master suite is fashioned from inlays employing centuries-old wood. This massive piece, made to order for the Wimberlys in Italy, took a year from inception to delivery.

A round dining room table commemorates their 25th wedding anniversary. Battlefield art and family crest speak to Adam’s heritage. A bowl received as a wedding gift, later serving as baptismal font for their son, holds chocolates. A cabinet that belonged to Jessica’s grandmother contains her written canning recipes. And a milk jug speaks to the dairy farm history.

Some spaces were repurposed to suit the family’s active lifestyle. “We like to entertain,’’ Jessica says. Not just cookouts and holiday banquets. The breakfast nook became what Jessica calls a friends’ corner, with chairs around a low table for drinks and hors d’oeuvres or a coffee break. A main-floor walk-in closet, where former owners stored their Christmas tree, is now a workshop.

Systems were sufficient except for the AC. “We keep the house like a refrigerator in the summer,” Adam says.

The only major construction took place in the kitchen. Adam’s avocation surfaced young. “I was my mother’s sous-chef,” he says, before graduating to cooking shows where best-quality ingredients demand superior implements. “Some guys buy boats. I bought a kitchen.”

       

Adam had a design in mind — quasi-industrial with a floating island — but the black came from something he saw online. The galley kitchen footprint suited the industrial mode, but the black cabinets, black countertops and black foam floor mats begged for illumination. At one end, a tall, undressed window rises over the sink, while along the brick sidewall, three small, paned windows at ceiling height provide both light and another design element. Open shelves hold antique or interesting hand tools. Weathered wooden boxes scattered throughout accommodate larger implements. The Sub-Zero is left metallic silver. Black panels might have been overkill.

On the counter, a planter growing half a dozen herbs speaks of Adam’s culinary requirements. Over it all hangs an old-timey butcher shop sign.

As expected, his ideas were met with resistance. “But I had no Plan B,” he confesses.

Adam, glowing with pride, demonstrates how one of eight burners on his Wolf range is retrofitted for delivering maximum heat to a wok. “I’m thrilled. I wouldn’t change a thing,” he says. “This is my happy place.”

Jessica concurs: “I feel everything we need or want is in this house.”

Enter Asher, home from school. Before heading for his second-floor domain between the movie room and gym the 17-year-old greets his parents with a familiar phrase:

“What’s for dinner, Dad?”  PS

Birdwatch

Birdwatch

The Early Bird

American robins usher in spring

By Susan Campbell

It is early spring in central North Carolina and few migrants are this far north, let alone back and ready to breed. Flocks of American robins have been evident all winter, feasting on dogwoods, hollies and other berry-laden shrubs. But now they are less interested in eating and ready to start a new family. They are, indeed, the “early birds.”

American robins are found throughout most of the United States and Canada. They are one of the most familiar birds on the continent. In winter, thousands from across Canada and the northern tier of states move southward, not as a response to the drop in temperatures but in search of food. Although robins are insectivorous during the warmer months, they become frugivorous in winter. Flocks of thousands are known to forage and roost together here in the Southeast.

Both male and female robins have long black legs, orangey-red breasts and dark gray backs. Males, however, have a darker head and more colorful breasts. Robins use their thin, yellow bills to probe the vegetation and soft ground for invertebrates in the warmer months. Spiders and caterpillars are common prey as well. These birds use both sight and sound to locate prey. It is not unusual to see a robin standing still and then cocking its head as the bird zeroes in on a potential food item just under the soil surface.

Here in our area, come March, male robins return to the territories they have defended in past summers. In bright, fresh plumage, they will sing most of the day from the tops of trees and other elevated perches, attempting to attract a mate. Their repeated choruses of “cheer-ee-o, cheer-ee-up” echo from lowland mixed woodlands to high elevation evergreen forests as well as open parklands in between. Females will accept a male for the season, but once summer draws to a close, so does the pair bond.

Females are the ones who select a nest site and build the nest. Suitable locations are typically on a branch lower in the canopy and support a hefty, open cup nest. Twigs and rootlets are gathered and then reinforced with mud, often the soft castings of the very earthworms they love to eat. The nest will then be lined with fine grasses before the female robin lays three to five light blue eggs. Constant incubation by the mother robin takes about two weeks, followed by two more weeks of feeding by both parents before the young fledge. Robins can potentially raise four broods in a season — although rarely do all nestlings survive. And fewer yet (about 25 percent) will make it through their first year, to breeding age.

Surviving young of the year will wander, often with siblings or a parent, until late summer, when they will flock up with other local birds. Small groups in North Carolina may move farther south if winter food here is scarce or if competition with larger northern flocks is too great. But not long after the New Year dawns, the same birds will be on the way back. Increasing day length triggers their return journey. And thus, the cycle will begin anew.  PS

Susan Campbell would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photographs at susan@ncaves.com.