Bracken fern

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I have a fondness for ferns; they grow in secret spaces, in unexpected places.  This is a partial piece of a bracken fern that I sketched with my Pitt pen (S size) in a sketchbook I received for Christmas.  I don’t know what kind of paper it is – but it’s silky smooth and takes pen marks well.  I added some light watercolor washes to show the varied browns of the dried frond. 

Ferns are fascinating in themselves, especially their reproductive cycle.  They are also a visual treat: lacy, intricate, unfurling in a spiral pattern.  Although not a true fractal because they are finite, the repetitive pattern of ferns is a good example of natural fractal patterns.  

Fractals are patterns where the parts are the same or similar to the whole.  For instance, in my drawing you can see that the pattern of the tip repeats in the branching leaflets.  The whole frond resembles the leaflets, as you can see in this photo from the University of Florida. Needless to say, this makes drawing a fern a bit mind-bending. 

Bracken ferns like to grow in open spaces; I sometimes see them on roadside and woodland edges.  Bracken fern is common, occurring throughout the world.  It has been used by humans for multiple purposes, including food.  The fiddleheads (unfurled baby fronds) are eaten regularly in Asian cultures. 

Although bracken fern contains a carcinogen that often causes cancers in livestock, cooking and/or soaking the fiddleheads in water reduces the risk to humans.  A caveat:  the carcinogen, ptalquiloside, varies with fern populations.  Always research thoroughly and know exactly what you are eating and how to safely prepare it; older ferns should be avoided entirely. 

Other past human uses for bracken fern include: fibers for basket weaving, starch from the rhizomes for flour, medicinal teas and decoctions for ailments such as chest complaints, headaches, and burns.  It was also used for thatch and kindling, livestock bedding, and for dyeing cloth and fibers. Despite a tendency to become invasive, bracken fern is not only a beautiful plant, but a useful one as well.

 

Sketching at Fakahatchee

Lake Harmon, Fakahatchee Strand, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Smith.

Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park was once christened “the Amazon of North America.” A forested watershed of cypress and mixed hardwoods, the Fakahatchee Strand is a linear-shaped wetland, about 20 miles long running north to south, but only 3 to 5 miles wide east to west. The Strand is the main drainage pathway for the southwestern part of Big Cypress Swamp.

Apple snail

During the wet season, sloughs, ponds, and lakes flourish. The water moderates temperatures and creates a haven for epiphytes and ferns. In the dry season (November through April, sometimes May), parts of the slough dry up completely, leaving only a few year-round ponds and lakes. In the dry season, we may only get 15 inches of rain of our typical average of 54 annual inches.

As part of the En Plein Air ~ Arts in the Fakahatchee event, a small group of us met near Lake Harmon, a year-round man-made lake. Created when limestone rock was quarried for fill and road surfacing, the water depth is easily 30 feet in places. The lake is named for the family who owned and operated Harmon Brothers Rock Company. Lake Harmon is just off Jane’s Memorial Scenic Drive, an 11-mile gravel road that follows the path of an old logging trail.

Snake eggs, already hatched!

The Lake Harmon area offered several interesting spots to sketch: the lake itself, a nearby cypress dome, and a recently burned grassland with lovely greens and browns. I painted the lake first in watercolor (top  image), trying to catch the quickly shifting clouds and rippling surface of the water. In the foreground are grasses and cattails, the opposite side of the lake is bordered by trees and the edge of a cypress dome (on the left).

The cypress trees are bare this time of year – with grayish bark and branches that almost gleam white in bright sunlight. Another artist and I walked over to the nearby cypress dome to explore. Less foliage means it’s easier to get around and to see things that we might otherwise have missed. At the edge of the dome we found numerous apple snail shells, a few crawdad shells, and two vacated snake eggs!

Sketching the recently burned area.

Later, I sketched the grassy area that had been a controlled burn not long ago. One cabbage palm tree caught my eye – the burnt trunk and the changing tiered colors of the palm fronds. The lowest fronds were burnt a dark brown, in the middle the fronds were dry and yellowed where the heat, but not the flames touched them, then the top fronds of living green that escaped the fire. The surrounding field was greening up, but there were still some of the rust and yellow-ochre grasses peeking through the new greens.

Tillandsias growing on a cypress trunk.

After a quick lunch, Park Ranger Karen Relish took us for a short walk into a cypress dome off Janes Scenic Drive. The ground was dry this time of the year, but there were some damp and watery places still deeper inside the dome. Once again, we saw apple snail shells scattered over the ground, and here and there the new growth of ferns and tiny wildflowers. Several airplants were blooming, and I marveled at the large buttressed cypress trees. We learned from Karen that our native epiphytic bromeliads are under attack by an exotic weevil that has been slowly spreading through the state of Florida. We also learned about the scents around us: the lemon-resin smell of the crushed Bacopa leaves beneath our feet, the spicy odors of bay and wax myrtle as we brushed by.

It was a beautiful sunny and breezy day, filled with good company and time to sketch. I also learned more about the habitats of Fakahatchee and came away with a greater appreciation of the plants and animals and history. Thank you Karen, for creating the opportunity to draw and paint in this beautiful space. And thank you as well to Cyril, who created the wonderful signs and made sure we got to the correct location, and fellow artists Kerri and Linda.

If you click on the top image it will take you to  my Flickr photostream where you can see it larger and read about the materials I used; clicking on the other images will allow you to view them larger in a slide show format.

Wild tamarind ~ scars

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“There is something beautiful 

about all scars of whatever nature.  

 A scar means the hurt is over, 

the wound is closed and healed,

done with.”

~ Harry Crews

Last month I spotted this tree trunk near the post office parking lot and had to sketch it.  I didn’t have my sketch kit with me, but I did have some ruled/graph paper and a mechanical pencil!  My attention was caught by the healed-over scars and the smooth bark of the tree.  I’ve been feeling a bit scarred by life, and I felt a kinship with this tree and its visible history of wounds.

Last week I parked near the same tree again, and took a moment to collect a seedpod and leaflet to sketch later.  I believe this is a wild tamarind tree, Lysiloma latisiliquum (also L. bahamensis).   

The seedpod is cream-colored with deep brown markings.

A member of the bean family, Fabaceae, it produces bean-like seeds in a flat pod which remain on the tree year-round.  .  The flowers are fragrant white puffballs that appear in the spring.  The feathery leaves look a bit tattered right now, but I can imagine how lovely they’ll look when the new growth emerges.

The bi-pinnate leaf.

The leaves are bi-pinnately (or double) compound. In other words, they aren’t just compound leaves, but compound times two.  This adds to their delicate and lacy appearance.  I sketched the leaf and the seedpod with an ordinary mechanical pencil on white printer paper.  

Its fast growth, broad canopy, and wide tolerance of soils and growing conditions make this a tree a popular choice for shade.  It’s also salt tolerant, which makes it a good choice for coastal areas.  Wild tamarind is native to South Florida, the Bahamas, and the West Indies, so you’d be right to suspect that it’s not cold tolerant.  The bark is a soothing shade of light grey, with a light texture. 

I hope you enjoyed my drawing of one of our tropical trees, despite the scars.  Like the words in the quote above, I find something beautiful in them.  What I didn’t fully realize before I came across this quote, is that the very nature of a scar signifies a triumph.  So I dedicate these sketches to all who bear the marks of Life’s mishaps and mischief.  Your scars tell a story, not just of the pain, but of the healing. 

 

For more information on Wild Tamarind:

Natives for Your Neighborhood