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Saturday, May 30, 2009

Out of Hiding

Thrasher, Brown, tear up the ground
Root the devil out of the woodpile

Rusted back, speckled chest
Your little ones have left the nest
Now you and your missus must teach them

Out of hiding and into the yard
You show your face awhile

Curved bill, evening trill
Mock the mockingbirds for me
And stare with your black-eyed-susans

Hide in the hedges, stalk the sedges
Eat whatever fills you

This week I realized the Brown Thrashers have lately been frequenting the yard more...well...frequently. Usually I only see (or more often hear) one as it lurks on the wood's edge. With my little, zoom challenged, point and shoot camera, I haven't been able to steal a photo (which explains my wordy substitute above).

It has been a treat to watch the Thrasher couple scampering around the yard collecting all manner of bugs, worms, and berries for the young ones. They are deliberate, serious birds. You can see it in their eyes.

One of their little ones ended up in the garden some how yesterday...must have fluttered down from the nearby poplar. As I cornered the little chirper and dropped him on the other side of the fence, momma and papa chattered fiercely from the lowest branch of the poplar. The fledgling, not yet equipped to fly, hopped to the edge of the yard.
I'm sure it is now getting a lesson on how to hide in the bushes.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Garden update 1 2009

Garden update 1 2009


The veggie plants are coming along just fine. Some are doing better than others of course. I'm using a lunar planting guide for the first time this season...and enjoying the process. Lettuce has been tasty. Little turnips turned into a simple soup. Next will be the peas. One rabbit so far...it nibbled on the beet leaves and pea plants, then I shot him...with the water hose...I'm such a wuss.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

This Spring's Obsession


This spring I’ve been focusing on the local woodland flowering plants. In the past, I’ve had an appreciation for native plants, but not much of an understanding. Last summer, when Heather and I were hiking on a weekly basis, I started paying closer attention to the woodland dwellers. At the end of each walk I would relax back at home with a few field guidebooks to figure out what people call the plants I had seen. Along with the names came their habitats, geographies, historical uses, and flowering times. I began to realize that I had missed many of their flowering periods.

The idea, which has grown into this spring’s obsession, took root last summer when I stumbled upon a simple, yet elegant, three-leaved, straight-stemmed plant growing near a dead-end path along the banks of my favorite local river. I didn’t know exactly what the plant was. All I knew is that it looked unique amongst its neighbors, and it bore resemblance to the mountain Trilliums that my parents admire. But without flowers to distinguish it, I was going to have to wait awhile to identify it.

So, as this fascination and curiosity spread to other plants, I decided to start early this spring and make the weekly rounds and check on the local plants. Since the last frost, I have been hitting the trails, camera in tow, to watch the plants circle through their cycles. I’ve had many satisfying finds. However, the one that had started this whole adventure was letting me down. I had found the three-leaved mystery plant early in the season and had checked it weekly, but it did not seem to be setting blooms…and it appeared to be running out of time.

Heather came with me on today’s rounds. I did the usual check…still no blooms…or even a hint of blooms. Heather pushed on ahead and, from around the bend in the trail, I heard “Jayyyyyyson…come here!” And there they were…in tender bloom! These were big plants…much larger than the few I had been checking on for weeks. Why hadn’t I come this far during all of my walks??? I started clicking away with the camera and scrambled into the woods for more…ticks and poison ivy be damned! I believe my heart was racing as fast as it was during last week’s triathlon. All for a little flower…which I now can rightly call Catesby’s Trillium.