Here’s a few seconds of rain tapping hundreds of umbrellas. Mayapples (Podophyllum peltatum) were one of my first wildflowers, and are still a favorite. The fat, green parasols have a cartoony cuteness, as if the Lorax grew spring ephemerals under his Truffula trees. Continue reading “Park Nature: Early April”
Maple flower flurries.
No sitting on the porch with a teacup today: falling flowers flit past the brim despite my hand as cover.
This is one of those milestones of spring easily missed, especially if you don’t happen to live or walk or park under a Sugar Maple.
I love this moment. It helps make up for the maple flowers leaving, and the maple leaves coming. If I pay attention to all the steps—from bud to budburst to flower to leaf to fruit—spring feels slower, more manageable, less panicked. Continue reading “Sidewalk Nature: Maple Flower Flurries”
Got this envelope in the mailbox today:
It reads: “Address lawn threats now. Love your lawn this summer” Continue reading “When lawncare means poison”
An experiment to see if I can round-up my recent Insta posts and organize them here . . . Continue reading “Insta nature”
Someone chainsawed a hackberry limb into fireplace lengths and left them at the curb. I watched these logs for a week. Every time I walked past, the stained heartwood at the cut ends looked like something different: a maple leaf, a cranesbill leaf, the foot of a gull, a Rorschach test. They reminded me of polymer clay, when you wrap noodles of color inside a contrast color, and then slice. Or like cloissonné. Or like pinwheel cookie dough. Continue reading “Sidewalk Nature: Hackberry logs”
Sidewalk nature: mistletoe at my feet.
This was a first. And given the season, I thought maybe the mistletoe had fallen out of someone’s Christmas decor. But after I’d tripped over it, I looked up, waaaay up, and saw a much bigger clump high in an elm, spotlit by late afternoon sun. Continue reading “Sidewalk Nature: Mistletoe”
Our dog walk took us to the vacant lot again. Every visit rewards us with new things to notice. Today the new things were new seeds (a sudden green ash windfall) and new graffiti:
Nature IS all around us, even while reading a book called “Nature All Around Us.”
This little terrestrial isopod was found stranded in our bath today. At first I thought it was the usual woodlouse or pillbug, but look at those angled antennae and that spiky, forked “tail!!” Continue reading “Nature All Around Us, even in the loo”
Folks get sad with the short days and cold weather, so I need to advertise what might be a brief antidote.
In the grass.
In late December.
Henbit’s tiny purple trumpets, chickweed’s white stars, and ivy-leaf speedwell’s bright blue eyes are all twinkling from the grass right now in Nashville. Continue reading “Winter Solstice flowers”
Winter solstice came and went, and this time I marked it with fire, and even better, with the publication of last year’s winter solstice story. I am grateful to Chapter 16 for including it in December’s essay lineup.
Chapter 16 is a branch of Humanities Tennessee, and it acts as our “virtual Tennessee Center for the Book.” And lucky for me, they also publish original essays from time to time.