Trees: Beautiful Bones
I love November. Bare, brown, sparse, uncluttered. The gorgeous October foliage is long gone, crumpled underfoot. As one of my favorite writers, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, said, “Now let us see the bones, the beautiful bones of the trees.” The pattern of branches against the sky is a thing beloved of artists and photographers. Severe simple beauty. But the pattern isn’t accidental. It’s filled with purpose. Every inch of branch and twig grew as it did for a reason. Sun. A tree can’t live without sun to power its inner food-factory. So it has to expend a lot of energy to grow structures that hold...
Read MoreCommon Mullein: The Vertical Garden
The Schoharie Creek, at the bridge in Burtonsville, NY. So mild-mannered now, a calm little rural river minding its own business. But every now and then this quiet stream goes berserk and floods like crazy, toppling trees and destroying houses. They built this new bridge high for a reason. Anyway, here’s the old bridge, or at least the remains of it. I’m not sure if it washed away in a flood many years ago, or if it was dismantled when they build the new bridge. But the remnants of the stonework have become a really interesting place to look for plants. A vertical garden. The...
Read MoreDandelions: On the Road
The road goes ever on and on. Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone And I must follow, if I can… Or maybe I’ll just germinate right here in the middle of the road… Is there anywhere—anywhere!–dandelions won’t grow? A dandelion seed landed here, and somehow found enough specks of dirt and moisture in the cracks to enable it to sprout, and grow, and survive. Dandelions are perennials, and this looks like a...
Read MoreWild Strawberry: Creeping Around the Graveyard
Graveyards are so filled with life. They’re perfect places to study the natural world. They’ve got lots of trees. Lots of birds. Not a lot of traffic. And they’re certainly quiet. The grass is usually well-mowed, true, but at least in a country graveyard like this, the grass is herbicide-free and filled with a pleasing diversity of plants. And a graveyard seems like an appropriately eerie place to find a creeper. Just on the edge of a blacktopped path, there’s an edging of plants with three jaggedly-toothed leaflets. Not poison ivy, which never has saw-toothed leaves, but...
Read MoreGrass: Winter Green
It’s November. Not a doubt of it. I can tell, because of all the usual clues. I can see my breath. There’s a skim of ice on the pond. I need mittens in the morning, because the steering wheel is like ice. The trees have bare branches. And the grass is emerald green. It’s the oddest thing about November, I find, the combination of brown shrivelled flowers, barren tree branches, and bright green grass. Grass, you see, is hard to kill. The leaves of many species of grass and lots of other low-lying plants, like clover, are highly resistant to frost. It’s hugely to the plants’ advantage,...
Read MoreIt’s About Time
I have a cause I’m deeply committed to. I really get quite emotional about it–just ask my family. And I’m asking for your support. I’m asking for your vote. And a small monetary donation wouldn’t hurt, either. (just kidding…) My cause is this: ban Daylight Savings Time. I mean, it’s a hoax. A giant prank. We’re all fooled into thinking we get an extra hour of daylight. It’s amazing—the sun slows in its descent, bounces back up into the sky, and gives us a whole extra hour of sunshine. Only, of course, we all know it doesn’t. We just fiddle with the clocks and fool ourselves into...
Read MoreConnect with Anita
Recent Comments