Tangled Branches: Cultivated

happenings in and around my zone 6b gardens in northern Virginia and in central Virginia

Monday, March 17, 2008

Saints Days

It's a beautiful clear St. Patrick's Day here in Virginia and I'm lucky enough to be able to spend it in the garden. And I don't know about you, but I can use all the help I can get in the garden. I recently learned that St. Fiacre is the patron saint of gardeners. But apparently not the only one. Today is also the feast day of St. Gertrude of Nivelles, another saintly garden helper. She's said to be good at keeping mice away, but maybe that has more to do with her association with cats?

Getting back to St. Patrick, is he really the patron saint of organic gardening, as claimed by this website? I find this a little hard to believe, but I like to think he'd be more pleased if somebody would build a compost pile in his honor rather than spend the day drinking green beer.

Some folks believe you should plant your potatoes and peas on St. Patrick's Day, but I'm not growing peas this year and I'm not ready to plant potatoes, so I'll be outside weeding and digging up some more ground in the vegetable garden.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Labels: seasons

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

A Good Day in the Garden

Yesterday was one of those days I wish I could save up for later. I had the whole day to myself in the country.

It was mostly sunny with just a few clouds. It was just warm enough to be pleasant, but not too warm for working in the garden. I basked in the sun. Really I was weeding, but it felt like basking.

The frogs were singing. So were the birds, but the frogs were louder and more insistent.

I saw two butterflies - first of the season. They were busy and so was I, so I didn't go chasing them to see who they were. One was orange on top like a Painted Lady and the other was white like a Cabbage White. Probably was a Cabbage White.

The garlic is up and growing despite being trodden upon by the deer. The shallots, which I had almost given up on, are sprouting. Spinach, and a few lettuce plants, survived the entire winter under a floating row cover.

I chopped fresh herbs - parsley, garlic leaves, lemon thyme, and radish sprouts - and sprinkled them with abandon on my lunchtime soup.

While digging up a bed to plant radishes and salad greens, I found two potatoes from last year. In perfect condition. Except for the one I cut in half with the spade.

The newly planted (last December) crocuses are blooming. The tulips made it through the winter without being eaten. I wonder if they'll make it through the spring.

I took a lot of pictures in the morning, but haven't uploaded yet. Maybe later today. If you're looking for me, I'll be in the garden.

Labels: bulbs, butterflies, herbs, potager, potatoes, seasons

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

More One Liners

I forgot a couple in the previous post.

1. Spring peepers are singing at Tangled Branches South.

2. The ground is disturbingly dry for this time of year.

Labels: frogs, seasons, weather

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Where Have All the Sparrows Gone?

I've been a busy citizen scientist this weekend, counting birds for the Great Backyard Bird Count. The Purple Finches are still here and I think they invited friends this weekend - I counted 10 at one time, but I know there were more. The most interesting birds I saw were 2 Red-Tailed Hawks soaring high overhead. This may or may not have been part of a mating ritual, but I like to think it was.

I spent some time walking in the woods this afternoon, hoping for better birds than I see at the feeders. Only turned up one Hermit Thrush, but while looking for birds, I found that the buds of the native azaleas have grown quite fat. Didn't have the camera with me, and it was too overcast for a good picture anyway. Last year this bloomed in April, so there should be plenty of opportunities for photography between now and then.

Speaking of buds, another citizen science project getting some publicity these days is Project BudBurst. (Note to organizers: the name sounds like an exploding beer can. I'm just sayin'.) I first learned of this about a month ago in a post by Xris, and Pam and Ki have also posted recently. This sounds like fun, and I have several of the target species growing in uncultivated areas of the property. I wish I had bothered to identify my maples last year; I assume they're red maples but I'm not certain they're red maples. They would certainly be one of the first to burst forth - I noticed the red buds today while looking for birds.

But getting back to birds and the title of this post, I didn't see a single sparrow all weekend. This strikes me as odd - I don't think I've ever submitted a GBBC checklist without a song sparrow or a white-throated sparrow or both. Strange.

My weekend bird lists are below:

Labels: birds, phenology, seasons

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Valentine Thoughts

...of a cozy little love nest?

Happy Valentine's Day!

Labels: seasons, squirrels

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Signs of Spring

Tangled Branches January Photos
Crocus sieberi 'Firefly'
First crocus! Yesterday I noticed a slim pale purple bud and today it was open. Last year this was blooming on January 4, so it may not be a reliable indicator of spring.

But here are a few more signs of spring I noticed today:

There was a robin in the backyard.
There was a chipmunk running along the neighbors' fence.
There was a fly buzzing around inside the house.
I went to the garden center and bought some seeds because I was too impatient to wait for the mail ordered ones.

Labels: crocus, seasons

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Back to Work with Earlier Sunrises

The 12 Days of Christmas are over and it's back to the salt mines for me. If we were all living in a time and place where the holidays kept going until January 6, the return to work would happen at about the same date when the sun begins to rise earlier (at about 40 degrees N latitude). Is this a coincidence?

We've been gaining daylight at the end of the day since early December here, and the sun is setting about 15 minutes later now than it was then. Now it's time for the days to lengthen at the end and the beginning. But human arbitrariness has intruded once again on the natural rhythm of things. While I was cruising the internet looking for interesting links about the latest sunrise, I found this interesting observation: because the end of Daylight Saving Time was moved to the first weekend in November in 2007, we actually had our latest sunrise in official government-approved clock time in early November. In the vicinity of Washington DC, the sun rose at 7:36 AM on November 3, and today rises at 7:26 AM.

As Chuck B. has gently reminded me in a comment on the previous post, the Earth's orbit around the Sun isn't really a circle, but an ellipse. Because of that slightly squished circle (OK, ellipse) we're closer to the Sun now than we will be in June. I realize that this fact has nothing whatever to do with the current weather, but yesterday felt like spring break instead of back-to-work. And it isn't just here. Tornados in northern Illinois in January?!?!? I can hardly imagine such a thing, probably because the last time anything like that happened was before I was born. I sure hope Edwards Apple Orchard is able to recover from the damage - in addition to excellent apples and cider, they have some of the best cider donuts ever.

Meanwhile, the benign side of springtime is almost on display here. The snowdrops were just showing a few pointy green leaves last week, but now the flower buds are clearly visible. Pictures later - it's still dark as I type this. Those earlier sunrises will be very welcome.

Labels: astronomy, seasons, snowdrops, weather

Monday, December 31, 2007

The Cycle

As the clock ticks out the last few hours of 2007, I find myself wondering why the Roman/Julian/Gregorian calendar seems so arbitrary. Shouldn't we mark off the years at some meaningful point in the Earth's orbit around the sun? A solstice or an equinox or something? But we don't. For thirteen years or so (1793-1805), the French started the New Year at the autumnal equinox, coinciding with the grape harvest. This makes a lot more sense to me, especially given the prominent role played by alcohol in our New Year's celebrations. Got your party hat on yet?

I like the idea of representing the year as a circle (because it is, really) and there's an elegantly information-packed circular calendar available as a free download at The Natural Year. This nifty chart shows the length of days, the moon's phases, weather cycles, and more. All the data are based on the author's location near Kansas City, but the broad trends apply across a swath of North America.

In late afternoon today I headed out to the vegetable garden, where lettuce, spinach and dill are still growing under their Agribon covers. I picked enough lettuce and spinach for a salad, and parsley and thyme to flavor our souffle for dinner tonight. That's a part of the annual cycle I plan to explore more fully in 2008 - the idea that I can harvest something fresh to eat most of the year. And I had to wash aphids off the lettuce!

Labels: calendar, potager, seasons

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Holiday Wish

Retro Thanksgiving Humor: WKRP Turkeys Away

Labels: seasons

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Helpful Natives

As we in the US are getting ready to commemorate the Pilgrims' harvest (which they might not have had without help from the natives), another helpful native is brightening up the woods with its late flowers.

I started looking for the flowers of our native Witch Hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) beside a walking trail in our neighborhood in late October. The buds were showing color then, but none were open. When I went back last week, it was in full bloom.

An interesting book I acquired this year - The Book of Forest and Thicket by John Eastman - says the seed capsules produced the previous year burst open with a bang in the same season as the flowers bloom. The seeds are propelled some distance from the plant - 10 to 50 ft. depending on which source you believe. This, I'd like to see, but I suppose it would be out of the question to sit next to the path and wait.

Is Witch Hazel helpful in other ways? Water witching, for example, or medicinally? Well, I've never tried dowsing, but I dabbed what seemed like gallons of witch hazel extract on my teenage acne. I don't think it did a thing.

But back to The Book of Forest and Thicket. It picks up where field guides leave off - it's more of a guide to the plants' lifestyles than how to identify them. The author describes where each plant species likes to hang out and who with, who its friends and foes are, details of history or folklore regarding it, and/or the author's personal anecdotes. I've learned a lot from this book, and plan to read others in the same series.

Labels: hamamelis, seasons

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Fall Foliage

This holly tree is at the edge of the deck
I found a few feeble flowers for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, but the best feature of the garden this week was the fall foliage. The backyard in northern Virginia is wooded. There used to be a small strip of lawn between the house and the woods, but that was covered over by the new deck this spring. Now, from the back of the house you get the feeling that you're in the woods - a very different effect.

Some views from the deck, from left to right across the lot.
Pink-coral leaves of black haw viburnum Viburnum in context
beneath oaks, next to dogwood
Multicolored leaves of arrowwood viburnum Winterberry holly and epimedium
Winterberry holly with American holly in front This oak tree caps the winterberry hollies
'Sango Kaku' Japanese maple
is behind the winterberry hollies The cyclamen foliage will be with us all winter
'Glowing Embers' Japanese maple
behind 'Mildred Mae' azalea This scarlet oak was a small tree 20 years ago

All too soon, the view from the deck will be of my neighbors' swingsets, shed, compost bin, and woodpile with blue tarp, but right now the view is as good as it gets all year.

Labels: autumn, foliage, seasons

Friday, November 09, 2007

Miscellany and Oddities

I should amend the title of the previous post to "I Was Half-Right". The subfreezing temperatures were enough to kill off the least cold-hardy plants, but the tough ones are left standing. This introduces oddity #1: A 90% frozen Alternanthera with one perfectly fine branch. The only thing I can think of is that the unfrozen branch was protected by some nearby zinnias, which then collapsed in a heap the morning after the freeze? Either that or there is some very strange microclimate stuff going on.

Today's pictures are from central Virginia, where I found the lettuce and spinach green and happy under a double layer of Agribon-19. On the way to the undercover greenery, I spotted oddity #2: one of my supposedly deer repellent plants - a nice little rosemary - was broken and chewed. Just last weekend I was admiring how nicely the 4 rosemarys anchored the corners of the potager. All spring and summer I fretted about how I was going to keep the deer away from the edibles, and all spring and summer they didn't bother much of anything. And now, when the tomatoes and peppers are frozen dead and gone, the critters come back to eat the "critter-proof" plants. I tell you, there's never a dull moment in gardening. Some of bronze fennel had the tops chewed off too. Apparently whoever did this was just tasting because the chewed-off pieces were left on the ground. BTW, something also chewed off the top of an Illicium earlier in the year - another reputed deer-proof plant.

There are foot-(hoof?)-prints all over the newly planted garlic beds too, but I can't see that anything was dug up. The soil is so sandy there that the prints are indistinct.

Maple leaves
from the November album
It's kind of a gray, ugly day today, but we have a bit of fall color in the woods, even though a lot of the leaves just turned brown and dropped during the drought. The black gums and sweet gums were pretty a few weeks ago and now have shed their leaves, but the wild blueberries and the maples are looking spectacular.

We've been busy lately and I've been neglecting my blog reading. I opened Google Reader this morning and found 150+ unread gardening posts. I'm almost hoping for a rainy weekend so I can sit around and drink tea and read blogs....

But then again, I need clear skies to look for Comet Holmes. Have you seen it? I didn't even know about it until this morning when I was blog surfing and found it on a birding blog, of all things. I started at A DC Birding Blog, where I learned that this year may bring large numbers of winter finches to feeders in the US. More on this later. From there, I read his Friday roundup, and went to check out the Harris's Sparrow on Mike's Birding and Digiscoping Blog. I noticed there a recent post on Comet 17P/Holmes. I think I need to set a timer to limit my internet time.

Anyhow, the reason I was interested in the winter finches was because yesterday I think I saw a small group of pine siskins in the tulip tree in front of the house. I've never seen a pine siskin before, so I'm not 100% sure, but they were streaky all over with wing bars and very pointy beaks. I didn't get a real good look. This site claims that they eat tulip tree seeds, and I think that's what they were doing, so it makes sense.

So in keeping with the season, my gardening activity is moving indoors to books, catalogs and the internet, and my outdoor activities have more to do with the sky than with the earth.

Labels: astronomy, birds, critters, frost, seasons

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Central Virginia is not Northern Virginia

And microclimate is everything.

Last week as I was sitting in northern Virginia typing a smug post about escaping the frost, I was blissfully unaware that in central Virginia the pepper plants were frozen under their Agribon-19 cover. Oh well.

This year was to be all about discovery at the central Virginia garden, and I've just discovered that I can't extrapolate the northern Virginia weather to central Virginia. See on this zone map where there's an odd little pool of zone 6b in the midst of zone 7a in central Virginia? That's where my garden is. It's something to do with the topography, I think. There's a low spot in central Virginia where all the cold air drains. Really. I didn't make it up, but right now I can't find a good website to link to that explains it all. And then my garden is located near the bottom of a hill in the midst of that larger low spot, so the microclimate there gets the full effect of the cold air drainage.

Net result: frozen pepper, tomato, and basil plants.

But this wasn't all bad, because over the weekend I pulled out the remaining (frozen) plants without a bit of remorse so I could plant garlic. I put in 4 varieties, purchased online from Gourmet Garlic Gardens: Chesnok Red, Romanian Red, German Stiffneck, and Nootka Rose. Next weekend I'll plant the ones I bought at the Virginia Wine and Garlic Festival, along with some shallots I picked up today at the Korean grocery store.

Yolanda Elizabet mentioned in a comment that she relies on her own instincts to know when there's going to be a frost, and over the years in northern Virginia I've gotten a pretty good feeling for the sort of day that precedes the first frost. I think today was that day. It was cloudy, nearly overcast and blustery. I expect tonight the winds will calm down and the sky will clear and everything will be frozen in the morning. I'll let you know.

Cloudy skies and blustery winds = frost?
From the November photo album

Labels: frost, seasons

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

The Gardener's F-Words

Frost.
Freeze.
Flurry of frantic activity following frost forecast.

And then nothing much happened.

This all began on Saturday. I started cleaning up the potager because I wanted to use the space to plant garlic. I had to pull out fully functional tomato plants to make room, incurring a great deal of mental anguish in the process. But later in the afternoon when I checked the weather forecast, patchy frost was predicted for Sunday night. OK good, I thought, then it's time for the tomato plants to go anyway. I also picked all the ripe red peppers and a few green ones to put in the freezer.

The next day, Sunday, the weather forecast had changed to widespread frost. Now I had to decide what to do about the pepper plants, and whether I wanted any more green tomatoes. I ended up picking most of the green peppers and tomatoes, and covering a few pepper plants with Agribon. At that point I had to leave the potager and return to northern Virginia, and I always ignore the first frost forecast in northern Virginia.

The next morning, Monday, the weather forecast contained a Freeze Watch. Then, that afternoon a Freeze Warning was issued - the forecast wording mentioned a hard freeze. Well, I thought, maybe they're serious this time. So I brought all the potted plants into the garage and snipped some cuttings from some Cupheas which were planted in the ground.

So, imagine my surprise this morning when not even the basils showed any frost damage. This was in northern Virginia - I won't know how things fared in central Virginia until the weekend.

In the meantime, I have lots of green tomatoes to use up. We're going to end the tomato season the way we started - fried green tomato BLTs! (And green tomato chutney, and green tomato salsa, and ?)

And lastly, a nice f-word: Fritillary.

They were fluttering around as I was pulling out the tomato plants on Saturday. The Verbena bonariensis was still blooming and attracting butterflies, if you can believe that.

Labels: frost, potager, seasons

Saturday, October 06, 2007

Season of Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness

Despite the fog, just about the only mists around here are from my sweat and tears as I haul water to thirsty plants. Thankfully, we have cool cloudiness so far today, but tomorrow and the next several days are predicted to be hot. No rain. But you already knew this if you've been reading any garden blogs from the central to eastern US.
Well, I've got something here that I bet nobody else has. Is this the world's cutest potato or what?

I dug up the last of the potatoes yesterday and this was among them.

We're not doing too badly in the mellow fruitfulness department, considering the drought, although these aren't what immediately comes to mind when you think of fruit.

Euonymus americanus
Passiflora incarnata
Viburnum prunifolium

Quercus coccinea
Ilex verticillata
Chasmanthium latifolium

And now I'm off to work on the potager, where more fruitfulness awaits...

Updated October 8 with captions on the "fruitfulness" pictures.

Labels: fruits, seasons, seeds

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Bookends

September arrived on a cool breeze. Another sign of approaching autumn. While weeding last week, I saw the tiny white flowers of some type of cress - one of my earliest spring weeds - and thought how spring and fall are sometimes mirror images.

The aphids are thick in the spring, and now they're back.

One day in early spring, the crocus flowers bloom amidst a few thin leaves. One day in early autumn, the rain lilies bloom amidst a few thin leaves.

The birds move north in the spring, and now they're beginning to move south again.

In the spring, I search the leaf litter for the first snowdrop. In the autumn, the leaf litter surprises me with the first cyclamen flower.

Labels: bulbs, seasons

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Beginning of Autumn?

Well, gosh, I was going to write a post about August being the beginning of autumn, but I decided to check my archives before doing it. Good thing, too, because I was going to write very nearly the same thing I wrote a year ago. Everything I wrote then applies equally well today, except this time I have a good picture of a clearwing moth.

In that picture, it just looks like a bug, but when you see one of these hovering in front of a flower, you could swear you're looking at a tiny hummingbird.

Also, to update last year's post just a bit, Wikipedia now has a page showing the exact time of the traditional beginning of autumn. Going over to time.gov, I see that we are already 2 hours into autumn as I write this. Then why is it so darned hot?

Labels: autumn, insects, moths, seasons

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Summer Solstice

The morning of the day of the summer solstice began around 5, when the early birds started to chirp. The birds, of course, have no use for silly human numbers, such as 5, attached to astronomical events. The sun rises when it rises - time to start singing - what are the numbers for? For better or worse, those of us humans who have to participate in the global economy today know what the numbers are for. That's why I got such a kick out of this story - modern-day Michigan Druids are having their solstice celebration on Saturday when they have more time. Meanwhile, back at Stonehenge, a few people showed up and had a little party. And our friends in the southern hemisphere are happily looking forward to more daylight.

Me, I'm going to check to see if the wild St. John's Wort is blooming, then contribute to the economy about half a day, and then observe the solstice from a place of quiet contemplation:

Labels: astronomy, seasons

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Love Song to a Plant

Are you ready for a good springtime song for gardeners? Really, I'm not kidding. I'm sure it's meant as a metaphor, but literal-minded simpleton that I am, all I can hear is a love song to a plant. Go to Sarah Harmer's home page, scroll down to where you see "click any title to play track" on the right hand side, and click "Oleander".

Labels: music, seasons

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Hearts and Flowers

Happy Valentine's Day! I brought you flowers. This is a genuine unretouched photo of the azalea plant I was recently complaining about. I guess I'll keep it a while longer. Behind the azalea, through the dining room window, you can see our latest reminder of winter. Our ~~snow storm~~ ~~sleet storm~~ ~~ice storm~~ precipitation event left everything looking like a freezer in need of defrosting. No transparent ice glaze; no sparkly snow; just this white crusty mess. I think we got every type of frozen precipitation there is, except hail. This is the best photo I could manage of the crud. eeeYEWwww! But while trying to find something pretty to take a picture of, I stepped on a daffodil bud. Just a few more weeks to go.

Labels: azaleas, seasons, weather

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Herbal Essence

About this time of year I start to crave green/resinous/herbal fragrances. In the drawing-in season of autumn, I like the warm spicy scents of pumpkin pie, cinnamon rolls and molasses cookies, but now I'm ready for a wake-up call. Especially today, when all the outdoors looks like a black and white photograph, I want to be surrounded by rosemary, lavender, mint, citrus, juniper... Does this sound like the old original 1970s Clairol Herbal Essence shampoo to you? The remembrance of that scent has been driving me crazy all day. If they brought it back, I'd buy a lifetime supply.

Parallel to this, and thinking about spring plant shopping, I've been reading that strongly aromatic plants may be an effective deer deterrence strategy. I thought I had come up with this idea on my own, but now I've read it in at least two different places (1,2). This is good news, because I happen to admire most herbs anyway and would be very happy to have an excuse to plant more.

Cruising the Internet for new ideas, I found a page on the Brooklyn Botanic Garden's web site about fragrant plants - it mentions one of my favorites (Corsican Mint), and gave me some ideas for new things to try (Costmary, Patchouli). I didn't know Patchouli could be grown as an annual. Reminds me of 1970s incense (there's the 70s again).

Anne Raver visited the New York Botanical Garden last fall and her article about it described an Agastache (Black Adder) with a very minty fragrance:

The blossoms were pleasant enough, but the crystal-clear menthol that filled my nose and throat was astounding.

I was suddenly wide awake. I noticed the shape of clouds, the fuzziness of my sweater. I made a note: must have this plant.

It�s legal. It�s also drought-tolerant and deer-resistant.

Now, if only I could find a recipe for that Clairol Herbal Essence fragrance. I seem to remember the commercials saying something about balsam and melissa?

P.S. You'd be surprised at how many people recall the scents of the 70s. I hadn't thought about some of these in a long time.

Labels: critters, fragrant plants, seasons

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Twigs

Always on my nightstand, for the last 20 years or so, has been The Gardener's Bed-Book by Richardson Wright. It's written in the form of a diary - one entry for each day of the year - with a longer piece each month. Every year I resolve to read it properly, each entry on its day. Every year I fail. Last night while I was getting caught up with February, the suggested activity for February 2nd seemd worth doing. He writes:

If, on one of these days, when Spring seems very far behind, you are seized with a desire for living color, go forth into the garden and make you a bouquet of twigs. ... Bring these home and set them in a bowl under a light: you have color variation, differences in texture and formation on a day when all Nature seems drab.

He offers suggestions - Kerria, Willow, Red-Twig Dogwood - but I have none of these. Looking out the window at the garden I see lots of gray and brown twigs. I cut some and brought them inside. Still gray and brown. I have some very tiny Japanese maples with colorful twigs, but I couldn't bring myself to cut them just yet. I know where to find some twigs with better color, but they're on public property. Nobody would miss just a few, but a little voice in my head says "What if everybody did that?!?".

So I try to appreciate the form and texture, and am reminded of a passage in a book I read over the weekend. Celestine Sibley had tried her hand at Japanese flower arranging and her daughter came into the room:

"It's not very flowery looking, is it?", she asked.
"I should say not, " I said. "Line and texture and feeling are there. Not flowers. Do you sense the somber mood...?"
"Of that stick?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am."

That was a really delightful book, by the way, and thanks so much to Annie for the suggestion.

Now...must order some Kerrias, Willows, etc.

Labels: books, plants for winter, seasons


Pink-coral leaves of black haw viburnum	Viburnum in context beneath oaks, next to dogwood

Multicolored leaves of arrowwood viburnum	Winterberry holly and epimedium

Winterberry holly with American holly in front	This oak tree caps the winterberry hollies

'Sango Kaku' Japanese maple is behind the winterberry hollies	The cyclamen foliage will be with us all winter

'Glowing Embers' Japanese maple behind 'Mildred Mae' azalea	This scarlet oak was a small tree 20 years ago

	Despite the fog, just about the only mists around here are from my sweat and tears as I haul water to thirsty plants. Thankfully, we have cool cloudiness so far today, but tomorrow and the next several days are predicted to be hot. No rain. But you already knew this if you've been reading any garden blogs from the central to eastern US.
Well, I've got something here that I bet nobody else has. Is this the world's cutest potato or what? I dug up the last of the potatoes yesterday and this was among them.

We're not doing too badly in the mellow fruitfulness department, considering the drought, although these aren't what immediately comes to mind when you think of fruit.
Euonymus americanus	Passiflora incarnata	Viburnum prunifolium
Quercus coccinea	Ilex verticillata	Chasmanthium latifolium

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