The Mystery of the Singing Pumpkins
Okay, maybe I’ve been reading too many Sherlock Holmes stories. Or watching too many episodes of Sherlock. But I swear this really happened. Last spring, I planted a total of six pumpkin seeds, in the little patch of garden just by the kitchen door. And something about this year’s odd weather– the early heat, the mid-summer drought, the late summer rain–made the pumpkins go absolutely berserk. The vines crawled along the side of the house, devoured the walkway, tripped up unsuspecting passersby, and even made repeated attempts to climb in the window. And they produced some nice...
Read MoreSumac: Deep Red
Sumac. A strange little word. I assumed it must be Native American—it just sort of sounds like it. And sumac is a dirt-common American plant, lining roadsides, springing up in empty lots, under power lines–all across the country, literally from coast to coast. But when I googled the word sumac, it turns out to be derived from ancient Aramaic, of all things. Sumac doesn’t refer to just the native American varieties, there are hundreds of sumac species all across the world. Sumac, it turns out, was a prized spice and also a medicine in the ancient world, a very valuable commodity. In the...
Read MoreWhite Clover: Halloween Magic
On the way home from a trip to Washington, DC. I set the GPS, then absentmindedly follow its commands through a maze of beltways and interstates. Keep left on this, turn right on that… Before I know where I am, it’s leading me over the hills and far away—not up the Jersey Turnpike, as I’d planned to go, but a longer and more winding route through the green valleys of Pennsylvania. Recalculating. Ah, well. It’s a pleasant fall day, leaves are turning, and all along these winding country highways are farmstands selling pie, honey, maple syrup, apples and pumpkins. Halloween, coming soon....
Read MoreMat Grass: Lay Out the Welcome Mat
It’s amazing how homey and comforting a cheap motel in New Jersey can be. Five hours on the Jersey turnpike, packed with traffic. The sun goes down, the traffic thickens. Eyelids heavy. Finally, I give in. Taking exit number two million and three, I follow a series of tiny signs directing me to “Lodging.” Finally rewarded by the lovely sight of the Jersey Town House motel. Ah. They have a vacancy. They have a soft mattress, free breakfast, hot shower, and highspeed internet, too. And best of all, there’s a green welcome mat right in front of my door. This is one of the plants that has more...
Read MoreLady’s-Thumb: Gloucester Marine Railway
You never can tell what you’ll find in a parking lot. I think I’ll just park my boat here for a minute while I run into the store… Gloucester, Massachusetts. My beloved home town. It’s a scenic spot on the rocky coast of Cape Ann, just north of Boston–lighthouses, fishing boats, etc. But I’ve always loved that it’s not a tourist trap, it’s a working fishing town, since 1623. Back in colonial days, the fish were so abundant the colonists just had to lean over the side of the boat and scoop them out of the water in baskets. Nowadays,...
Read MoreWild Thyme: Time On My Hands
September 13, Election Day? Well, it’s not the BIG election day coming up, only the Democratic primary for state senator, but I was at the polls, yes I was. I was there all day. Ten solid hours. No, I’m not a really slow voter, I’m a poll inspector. For a (very) small wage, I put up signs like Vote Here and No Smoking, check that voters are registered, and generally make sure our local elections run smoothly. Not a hard task at this particular election. My colleagues and I (4 inspectors total, 2 Democrat, 2 Republican) sat and sat and sat and sat, killing time and waiting for customers....
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