Geek out with me about critters and plants on a mountaintop in Virginia. I’ll share what I’m learning as I try to bring native plants back on 200 acres of old farmland and tell stories from my encounters on the mountain.

Want to subscribe? (It’s free!)

Want to read it first? (I don’t blame you.)

In this issue

• Field notes: trick or treat

• Signs of life: toxic and trippy

• Off the mountain: Leopold’s Preserve

• Recommended listening

• Questions for you

• Book news

• The Official Mountain Poodle

Field notes: Trick or treat

There are a lot of snakes here, and I’m not adept at identifying them yet, beyond “black snake, not venomous” and “patterned snake, might be venomous.”

When I returned to the house after walking with Cleo one morning, this critter had positioned itself between us and the back door. I decided to retreat rather than risk guessing wrong:

The snake was so still, I thought it might be dead. But when I came around the house again, it looked like this:

Clearly, it saw me and thought, “Human? Better stay still until it’s gone; might be dangerous.”

I soon learned this was a baby eastern ratsnake—so, nonvenomous. I’ve always thought rat snakes were black. It turns out that the adults are black, but young rat snakes are patterned. Which is probably a good strategy for them. It led me to stay away.

Here’s another deceptively scary-looking creature in disguise. It resembles a giant yellowjacket— it even buzzes and will menace you if you get too close. But note the big eyes and the single pair of wings: it’s a fly! The Virginia giant hover fly, harmless to humans and a beneficial pollinator.

Signs of Life

Toxic and trippy

Jimsonweed is an invasive plant that is said to take its name from the Jamestown Colony, where it was cooked and eaten by soldiers who proceeded to hallucinate nonstop for eleven trippy days. The effects have been compared with schizophrenia. The men recovered, lucky for them, and had no memory of the experience. Every part of the plant is toxic, and consuming it can kill you. Every now and then, someone still gets the bright idea to try eating the seeds and similarly hallucinates for a week—if they live.

On a plateau just below the high point on the mountain, a grove of these plants was spreading and threatening to become a monoculture (a place so dominated by one plant that almost nothing else can grow). The plants had reached the seed pod stage, and once those pods burst, seeds would go everywhere. I was determined to pull them before that happened.

One day after a heavy rain, I took a couple of contractor bags up the mountain and started working. In the wet soil, the plants came up pretty easily, roots and all. I wasn’t prepared for the stench—it was like something had been dead for a few days.

The plants were larger than I thought—up to two and a half feet tall and an inch thick. They were heavy. I filled the bags, and then I couldn’t lift them. (They were 55-gallon bags. What was I thinking?) Instead, I weighed them down with rocks so they wouldn’t open up, and I left them on the hill. The bags would bake in the sun, the plants inside would wither and die, and then I’d be able to carry the bags away.

My kids said they look like body bags. Happy Halloween!

A short time after I pulled the jimsonweed, I noticed another plant beginning to fill in the now-empty space, and I’m pleased to say, it’s a native plant—horse nettle. Most gardeners wouldn’t plant it, because it can be aggressive, but here it’s a welcome part of the meadow; it’s a native pollinator magnet whose fruit is a favorite food for turkeys and quail.

Off the mountain: Leopold’s Preserve

I’m always eager to learn from what other people are doing to rewild or restore native plants on their property. I was lucky to be invited along on a walk at Leopold’s Preserve with Virginia Working Landscapes staff and citizen scientists. The 380-acre Preserve was inspired by and named for conservationist Aldo Leopold. It’s open to the public, and it’s owned and managed by a private foundation. It was established, oddly enough, by a developer who owned the right to develop the land but decided only to build on part of it and to protect the rest.

The walk was led by Nick Davis, the Preserve’s land manager, who, in under 2 years’ time, has begun to transform fields that were previously overrun by invasives into meadows and savannahs with a majority of native plants. I don’t have “before” photos, but the “after” photos are inspiration enough.

This field was not seeded, and when Nick started work on it, it was mostly fescue. After the nonnative grass was mowed and treated, this 9-acre meadow of natives grew up from the existing seed bank:

One of the great things about this meadow is, because most native plants grow in bunches, and not in thick mats like nonnative grass, there is plenty of space on the ground for ground nesting birds and other wildlife to navigate. I’ve resisted spraying, other than spot-spraying invasives, but after seeing what can happen as a result of eliminating nonnative fescue, I’m tempted to try spraying a small area of fescue in one of my fields, as an experiment. The time to do it would be later in the fall, after the native plants go dormant, so they’re not harmed. Stay tuned…

I will say that Leopold’s Preserve has a couple of advantages: As a nonprofit, they have lots of volunteers to help with the work. And, it’s not on top of a mountain!

Recommended Listening

The podcast The Only Thing That Lasts is a fascinating monthly series focused on the history of attitudes toward farming and land ownership in the United States. It’s narrated by journalist Sarah Mock. Highly recommend.

What’s happening in your neck of the woods?

What are you going to be for Halloween? 

Tell me where you are and what you see growing—or flying or crawling— this month, in a park near where you live, or in your own yard or window box. Send me a photo, if you like.

And don’t forget to tell me about your favorite nature-related book or podcast.

And now for a little book news…

Praise for the book!

I’m deeply grateful for this praise from author and science historian Jordan Goodman:

Get your free books!

There’s a Goodreads giveaway going on now:

Official Mountain Poodle Sunset

Cleo enjoys a good sunset like the rest of us, although it can take a little persuading to get her to stand still for it.

Now’s a good time to subscribe for more mountain discoveries, book news, and the requisite poodle photos.

Thanks for joining me on the mountain!

Until next month—

Paula W.

Bad Naturalist: One Woman’s Ecological Education on a Wild Virginia Mountaintop

Coming January 7, 2025 from Timber Press/Hachette Book Group

Remember, you can…