#Catawba rhododendron

[mothmiso]

Blue Ridge Parkway Early June (2) (3) by Craig Wililams

Via Flickr:

(1) View from Wolf Mtn Overlook. (2) Catawba Rhododendron, view from Graveyard Fields Overlook. (3) Distant view of Looking Glass Mtn from Pounding Mill Overlook.     

[faguscarolinensis]

Rhododendron catawbiense / Catawba Rhododendron at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[monmorgandy]

Grassy Ridge At Peak by Michael Kight Via Flickr: Having posted the cloudy version of Grassy Ridge two posts back (titled "Rhododendron Hells"), it occurred to me I had never posted this image from 5 years ago. The original is a composite image of 9 vertical shots that is 72”x24”, though with detail that could make it larger if necessary… I’ve pared it down using the same aspect ratio to 60”x20” that drops the printing costs of an exhibition metal float print somewhat exponentially. Grassy Ridge Bald is the longest stretch of grassy bald in the Roan Highlands area of the Appalachian Mountains. You will never see this roadside… seeing it requires a hike starting from Carver’s Gap, located on State Route TN-143 and NC-261, which connects the towns of Roan Mountain, Tennessee, and Bakersville, North Carolina... you park on the state line! The Appalachian Trail winds its way through Roan Mountain State Park… it is along this trail that you begin to work your way up until it intersects a spur trail at the boundary of Grassy Ridge Bald nearly 2 miles from Carver’s Gap Roan Mountain has five sub-peaks that comprise the Highlands and is divided into two sections by Carvers Gap. To the west of Carvers Gap are Roan High Bluff and Roan High Knob that are easily accessed by road as well as trail… the world-famous Roan Rhododendron Gardens that are handicap-accessible. That’s a wonderful option for those who have a hard time getting around… but it’s hard to beat the view from Grassy Ridge. East of Carvers Gap, accessible only by hiking, is the area of Roan Mountain known as Grassy Ridge, which includes three peaks: Round Bald, Jane Bald, and Grassy Ridge Bald. At an elevation of 6,189 feet (1886 meters), Grassy Ridge Bald is one of the highest grassy balds in the Appalachian Mountains. There’s a lot to see on the trail to this point and you get many different perspectives along the way… the hike takes a little over 5 miles straight up and back, with a total elevation gain of 1,150 feet (350 meters). My hikes there are never less than 8 miles round trip and often more as I move around for those perspectives to put in front of the lens… but this place is the jewel at the end of the trail. To get this image required scrambling up the huge rock you see in the foreground to get above it all. While this would make a wonderful print, I've not caught the quintessential shot I've had in mind of this place just yet... it's been too windy, or too cloudy/foggy, or the light's just not right, or I'm too early or too late for peak conditions... or worse, any combination of these conditions. I guess I'm just going to have to keep making my way up there until I get it. I'm just kidding myself... even if I did get what I think I want, I still would never be satisfied. Would you?

[earthanthem]

Blooming Catawba Rhododendrons at a foggy Craggy Gardens, Blue Ridge Mountains, North Carolina

(via Pinterest)

[emilybeemartin]

Inktober Days 28-31

Day 28: Sparkle

When people ask me which national park I've worked in is my favorite, I have a diplomatic answer. They're all different! Yellowstone is never boring, Glacier is visually stunning. But Great Smoky Mountains? Great Smokies is home. It was my first park, even before Yellowstone--I was brought on as a summer intern in 2010, and it set the course for my whole career onward.

Where other national parks trade in dramatic grandeur, Great Smokies offers a more intimate beauty. The pale pops of Catawba rhododendron blossoms in the dark forest. The squiggle of a spotted salamander in dewy moss. The first flush of red on the autumn slopes. The Christmas-tree perfume of the balsam firs at high elevation. 

But some of the most special things to me are the fireflies. The secret of the synchronous fireflies has trickled out, and now people flock to see them in late spring, flashing in coordinated laser light shows. My absolute favorites are the blue ghost fireflies, which glow a moonlight-blue, without blinking, and drift a few feet above the ground. On a dark, quiet evening, it's the single most magical sight I've ever seen. So magical I built a whole fantasy system around them in my first novel, Woodwalker.

Day 29: Massive

There are so many parks whose scale simply can't be appreciated in photos. The yawning chasm of the Grand Canyon. The looming summits of Grand Teton. The plunging valleys of Glacier. And the massive span and height of sequoia trees.

Though this is a purely American tree, I've only experienced them abroad, when I lived in New Zealand. A short walk away from my student flat was a beautiful botanical garden, and I was amazed to find a grove of sequoias growing there. I greeted them like compatriots, foreigners in a faraway land. I visited them often and knew someday I needed to visit their cousins on their home turf. Like my fixation on Olympic National Park, I've frequently found myself plotting the drive from my Rocky Mountain jobs to the closest parks of sequoias and redwoods. I'll get there, one day.

Day 30: Rush

Yosemite—the rush of history toward the riches of the west, the rush of visitors in the valley, the rush of air through climbers’ ropes, the rush to protect endangered natural spaces. But to me, no homage to Yosemite is complete without rushing water. Plunging waterfalls, rivers foaming with spring melt, frigid banks piled with frazil ice--- this park sings with the power of water.

Day 31: Fire

We end Inktober 2023 in Hawai‛i Volcanoes National Park, a place where fire, earth, and water all meld together. At first I picked this park simply because it fit the prompt, but as I did some research, I realized how fitting it is to end this month-long celebration of national parks here. Built into the management policies for Hawai‛i Volcanoes is the practice of ho‛okupu, the action of creating growth through chanting or offerings. As Huihui Kanehele-Mossman, Kumu Hula and Executive Director at Edith Kanaka‛ole Foundation, puts it:

“[Ho‛okupu] is not showing gratitude… it’s a recognition between you and the place… that you are present there in order to have an exchange—an equal exchange between you and the place.”

As park rangers, we’re faced with tangible reminders of degradation every day—past, present, and future—in things like the violent history of land theft, the tenacious grip of invasive species, and the looming consequences of climate change. It’s easy for rangers to view both ourselves and the visiting public as interlopers and invaders, capable of only destruction, a force to be managed and mitigated.

But we’re not. That same force that enables us to destroy also enables us to restore, grow, and create. And as Robin Wall Kimmerer discusses in Braiding Sweetgrass, humans shouldn’t consider ourselves mere intruders in natural spaces. We evolved alongside nature. We do belong in it, and it relies on our power and gentleness as much as we rely on it.

Even beyond that, national parks are human-created spaces, with human boundaries, roads, infrastructure, and patterns. We have to be involved with them. We have to view ourselves as an integral part of their wellbeing, an equal partner, and a force for good, or we risk losing them to sheer indifference.

“If you don’t have anything else to give to a place, give your voice.”

-Huihui Kanehele-Mossman

Thanks for traveling along with me on this journey through our national parks! I hope you have an autumn full of peace and purpose!

[southernsolarpunk]

Garden update!!!

YEAH BABEY I GOT (at least) THREE NATIVE PASSIONFRUIT IN MY YARD!!! ILOVE NATIVE PLANTS!! (Really interesting side note, it’s amazing how quickly you can pick out certain plants after studying them- the yard is a bit overgrown so I was actually surprised how I managed to see them!)

I also have a wing leaf sumac growing as well! I might have to make sumac lemonade :)

My fig tree is starting to leaf out, I thought I killed it over the winter so yay!

And!! Only one of my blueberry bushes flowered but it is producing blueberries! Just a handful but it’s only the second year I’ve had the plant so!!! I can’t wait for the future harvests!!

I planted out my biggest tomato seedlings! The other ones need to grow a bit more to be planted :)

And I don’t know if I mentioned it but I got a Catawba rhododendron! I love the flowers and so do native pollinators! (Peep the poison oak in the background yuck)

[stumbleimg]

Catawba Rhododendron Bloom, Blue Ridge Mountains [OC] [3331x5000]

[carolinawrenn]

Catawba rhododendron (Rhododendron catawbiense). Also known as mountain rosebay, purple rhododendron, and rose bay. Highly poisonous.

[continent-of-wild-endeavor]

Also called my favorite local landscaping place today & they've got the pink flowering dogwood I want, but they're $125+ 😔

The Catawba rhododendrons are ~$20 and a good size, though, so I may get those next week.

I'll keep looking for the dogwood; it's to go by Freya's grave. We have several regular dogwoods on the property, but she was a pretty princess & deserves the pink one. The special one, even though I know it'll take more care.

[bisexual-nightmare]

I was curious so I went digging and I think this is the lady and her massive rhododendron in question:

Which, if that’s the same epic gardener, is a relief! According to the local news article, Catawba rhododendrons (rhododendron catawbiense) are native to the Appalachians; wikipedia agrees, and it’s included as native in the North Carolina State Extension Gardener reference site. (I’m personally inclined to trust university agricultural extension info; I use my state university to check if something’s native before wider google searches.)

But yes absolutely, the core takeaway here should be: plant native. It’ll always be better for your local environment!

100 year old rhododendron and the woman who planted it

[whatsbloomingnow]

Catawba Rhododendron (Rhododendron catawbiense Michx.)

Ericaceae (Heath Family) Synonym(s): Catawba Rosebay, Purple Rhododendron, Red Laurel, Catawba Rhododendron, Mountain Rosebay Base Flower Color: Pink , PurpleReproductive Phenology: Apr , May , JunNotes: This plant has high severity poison characteristics. For more information about this plant, Click Here.

[faguscarolinensis]

Rhododendron catawbiense / Catawba Rhododendron at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[ireallylovelanguages]

Post vom August 24, 2023 at 12:00PM

Catawba-Rhododendron #catawbarhododendron #rhododendron #natur #naturfotografie #fotografie #pflanze #instagood #picoftheday #photography #nature #naturephotography #photooftheday #flowers #travel #blumen #flower #love #germany #landscape #plant #foto #park #instagram #landscapephotography #plants #beautiful #naturelovers #landschaftsfotografie #photo #garten Anschauen im Original:…

[ourlittlechateau]

The Catawba Rhododendron is a perennial flowering plant that can live for 75 to 100 years. It is originally from the Smoky Mountains making the Catawba the hardiest of all Rhododendron as it can live through the cold harsh winters on top of the Smokey Mountains. If you would like to grow these beautiful flowers yourself and would like growing and care information head over to the link below

#catawbaflowers #catawbaflowers #howtogrowcatawba #catawbarhododendron #howtogrowcatawbarhododendron #howtogrowflowers #flowergrowing #plantpropagation #plantcare #plantcareblog #growyourown #plantblog #plantblogger #gardeningtips #gardening101 #planttips #plantlifestyle #planttipsndtricks #gardenblog #instaflowers #flowers #flowersmakepeoplehappy #OLC #Ourlittlechateau

[monmorgandy]

Rhododendron Hells by Michael Kight Via Flickr: As I stated in the previous image, the Blue Ridge is covered in rhododendron… I wasn’t kidding! These are the showy magenta/pink Catawba that bloom from late May to early June, depending on the altitude of where they are located. Here along Grassy Ridge, they’re at nearly 6,000 feet (1,828.8 meters). That’s not fog up the ridge but rather clouds skirting the heights. It adds a sense of mystery to me, even though I'm very familiar with this place. The trail to this point leads through tunnels of interwoven branches of rhododendron, and it’s tight in a few places, especially if you’re carrying gear. The early colonial pioneers who first navigated these mountains referred to such thickets as “rhododendron hells” as it was easy to get lost among them. I wouldn’t suggest such a hike… but it’s amazing to see from above. Between the rhododendron are fir, mountain ash, and wild hydrangea for the most part. A note here to my UK-Irish friends... mountain ash here are what you refer to as Rowan trees. I've seen them growing at sea-level as I drove through Northern Ireland. Most of North Carolina's climate is of the humid subtropical variety, with the high Appalachians being the exception. We can use mountain ash as an altimeter here, as they're only found in elevations above 5,000 feet. The highest mountain east of the Mississippi River is Mount Mitchell at 6,680 feet here in North Carolina... which means the mountain ash will only be found on the highest ridges here, such as the one in this image.

[ashevillephotography]

Native Catawba rhododendron blooms at Roan Mountain near the border of Tennessee and North Carolina.