Tuesday, 7 June 2022
I’m a bit discombobulated from our latitude shift that meant we left the spring of the way north and are now in the summer of the deep south. These directions are based on USA attitudes not continental, geographic perspectives.
Monday, 6 June 2022
Late this afternoon we had a storm cell/line come through and when it was in the final dripping stages, I snapped this of an upper section of the fennel forest out front. I like that: fennel forest.
Sunday, 5 June 2022
On the last day of May, we walked to Au Sable Point Lighthouse, and around the buildings we saw and heard many busy bees attending strongly scented blooming shrubs, about half along the ground like this and the rest upright yet not tall. I finally identified these: Prunus pumila, or sand cherry. I’ve undoubtedly seen them before, but never noticed them, perhaps because they weren’t in bloom and showing off.
Thursday, 2 June 2022
The lupins are out! These are probably the farthest along of any on the property. There’re perhaps one hundred blooms in this photo, but none opened other than this cluster.
…not even opened as much as these rare white ones. There are also a minority of pink ones.
However, the lilacs are perhaps two-thirds opened, and they are scenting the whole area. Mmmmm!
Also, the first skillet of morels has been found and consumed. Thank you, Neighbor!
Wednesday, 1 June 2022
Aging white trilliums become pink-tinged. And scruffy.
These wee ones are coming along; I even see second leaf pairs emerging.
Recently I mentioned Pando, the 43.6 ha or 0.436 km2 aspen…clonal collective(?) growing in Utah. In news from the southern hemisphere, scientists have identified a clonal seagrass meadow in Shark Bay on western Australia’s coast that is 200 km2. Much, much larger. It’s estimated to be 4500 years old, based on how fast the seagrass grows.
Both the aspen and the seagrass are astounding. Terrestrial and marine giants. Scientific names: the quaking aspen is Populus tremuloides; the seagrass is Poseidon’s ribbon weed, Posidonia australis.
Monday, 30 May 2022
Large insect with ready to pop lilies-of-the-valley.
Large and growing asparagus. I see five shoots; they were not this tall yesterday.
Growing mesclun. I think four different types have germinated [Approximately the same spot as the photo two days ago. Science is fun!]
Sunday, 29 May 2022
The morning sun center-targets this window, which is mostly terrific and sometimes situationally over-bright.
I am surprised these trilliums are still lovely, although they are showing a bit of age. In partial sun.
Saturday, 28 May 2022
I set my mission this morning to eradicate a population of Heracleum maximum, or phytotoxic cow parsnip, from the ditch up the way. It’s the broad-leaf in the foreground. Public property, but no one else is inclined to remove them.
I did a lot of tromping around and dug up that big pile of nastiness on the blue tarp. I didn’t get all of them, but I did get all the big plants and most of the small ones. The sun moved and the humidity was high and I tired, so I quit before complete eradication. No one stopped to ask what I was doing. I mulled over several quips if someone stopped to say something like, “Hey, lady, there’s no strawberries there.”
I deposited the toxic remains in the old well hole I’ve been using for two years now, and covered them with an old tarp and a much older ancient canvas tent. That tent was purchased in the early 1960s and I slept in it many times. Coleman, of course.
More fun is that at least one more species from the seven promised in my supermarket mesclun packet is germinating.
Friday, 27 May 2022
The rain you see on this barberry was yesterday; the hummingbirds were today. No snap; they are busy creatures, zip zip gone.
Mesclun appears! Germination success! Only one of the seven advertized species/varieties, however, I’m hypothesizing based on that the plantlets all look like this.
Leaf miners in…I thought it was moss from standing above it…now, a close-up, hmm…dunno; I am not a botanist.
And, for grins, “way too much coffee.” It happens.
Thursday, 26 May 2022
The Botanist called this the Siberian apple, and said it was planted to be a pollinator. Even the deer won’t eat the fruit, he said. Indeed, even in the spring I have found apples below it on the ground when there are (nearly) none in the rest of the orchard.
It has an odd shape, and this is without pruning for in excess of six decades, perhaps longer.
I just Goo-d Siberian apple, and did not find this (crabapple, yes). Must be something missing from my info, or possibly my impatience with my hinterland internet connection (and thus reluctance to keep scrolling down…and waiting waiting waiting).