Goldenrod: Does Not Cause Hay Fever
GOLDENROD DOES NOT CAUSE HAY FEVER. The first sight of goldenrod’s yellow blossoms means summer has reached its high tide. Now we’re on the downhill slope to fall. Fall, the time of gorgeous color, and goldenrod is the first bright splash of paint on autumn’s palette. And there’s some mixed metaphors for you. Goldenrod is a native American plant, great for wildlife, beautiful to look at. And yet it’s wildly unpopular. The poor innocent plant has been wrongfully implicated in a crime it did not, and never will, commit. GOLDENROD DOES NOT CAUSE HAY FEVER. This fact cannot be repeated often...
Read MoreStaghorn Sumac: Painting With Trees
Staghorn sumac. (Rhus typhina.) These dainty little trees are a common sight along roadsides. They seem to spring up everywhere, near dumps or malls or in weedy backyards. They’re the kind of tree no one notices. Except birds, of course, who love the sweet fuzzy berries, high in vitamin C and energy. But four hundred years ago, sumac seeds were almost literally worth their weight in gold. English botanists explored the New World in the early 1600s and were thrilled to discover a host of exotic species: exciting plants (which are ho-hum to us today) like goldenrod, sugar maples, white pines,...
Read MoreGuest Photographer Diane Hale Smith; A Study in Scarlet
Red. Blood red. Fire engine red. Crimson. That’s what hummingbirds like. These magnificent little birds are drawn to the color red like iron is drawn to a magnet, cats to catnip, humans to chocolate. Where I used to work, there was a bright red fire extinguisher bolted next to one of the doors, and sometimes when we left the door propped open, a hummingbird would fly in and spend quite a lot of time trying to suck nectar from the tube-shaped nozzle. I once made the mistake of wearing a red t-shirt on a hike—this was in Arizona—and I was constantly buzzed by hummers, going ZZZZZZZZZZZZ...
Read MoreDown by the Riverside
The river. Hot and lazy under July sun. If I happen to feel like a swim, though, it’s a long stumble over sunbaked rocks for a hundred yards to get to the water. I stub my toes a dozen times. A persistent horsefly circles my head, buzzing evilly. When I finally reach the water, it’s brownish, murky, lukewarm. Heaven. I wouldn’t trade my river (the Schoharie Creek in upstate New York) for a thousand swimming pools with crystal turquoise water. I’ll take the smell of river mud over chlorine any day. Crayfish nibbling my bare feet? Dragonflies whizzing past? Not a problem. But wait. What about...
Read MoreSunflowers on the Menu
Charlie’s Diner. Coffee, cream, no sugar. Two fried eggs over easy. Whole wheat toast with strawberry jam. Sunflowers. Every summer this great old diner has sunflowers in pots outside the restaurant, to cheer the travelers whizzing by on Route 20. And every year the sunflowers shoot up, dwarfing the pots, and produce giant suns of flowers. And of course birds adore sunflower seeds, so avian travelers stop by and help themselves to a beakful of seeds. Sunflowers to go. Last year, a few seeds must have fallen into this crack in the pavement. And with all the rain we’ve had, the seeds sprouted....
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