Good Lawn/Bad Lawn
I saw a sight this morning that froze my blood. There was a toddler, a hapless infant, sitting on a lawn. Not even a blanket underneath him, mind you—the poor child was sitting right on the grass. Made my blood run cold. Why? Because it was a bad lawn. It was nothing but blades of grass. Close-cropped and bristly as a Marine’s haircut. Not a weed to be seen, not a leaf of clover, not a dandelion, not a plantain leaf. Nothing but grass. So what? That’s what a lawn is supposed to be, right? Yes. But it doesn’t stay that way naturally. Weeds like dandelion, clover and plantain are highly...
Read MoreGood Mowing, Part 2
Last November I wrote a blog post about a meadow at the George Landis Arboretum in Esperance, NY. The meadow had just been mowed, and while you might assume from the title of my blog that I would be violently opposed to all mowing, that’s actually not the case. I can be a good sport about mowing. In fact, mowing in the right places, at the right time of year, can be an enormous help for wildlife, and for wildflowers. A mowed meadow looks sad and stubbly, but as with all good things, patience is required. Here’s what the meadow looks like today. A kaleidoscope of purple, gold and white:...
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 MoreGarlic Mustard: The Time is Ripe
Time to get rid of it. Garlic mustard. Out it goes! The name sounds tasty, doesn’t it? It’s a pretty little wildflower with lovely white blossoms. The leaves have an attractively scalloped edge, and a savory garlic taste, a fantastic addition to salads, quiche, and stir-fry. A lovely and useful plant, you’d think. But I’ve spent all day killing it. Eradicating it. Ripping it out by the roots. Doing everything short of spraying a dose of Round-Up on it. Why? I have an enormous tolerance for non-native “weeds,” as my undying love for dandelions shows. Why enjoy the dandelions, the...
Read MoreA Little Street Art
A while ago I was driving down a street in Albany, NY and happened to see this flash of red in the distance. I’m always a sucker for street art, so I had to do a U-turn and take a closer look. Mind you, I’m not sure what it is, but it certainly brightens up a chilly, gray day.
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