For a couple of weeks, I’ll be looking around not nearby in Nashville, but in England: Dartmoor National Park, mostly, plus a few other places on our way to and from. We are lucky to be here. Continue reading “Look Around (England)”
Presenting: a fresh American toadlet.
Yesterday it still had a tail.
A few days ago it breathed through gills and was a vegetarian.
Today it has lungs and a carnivorous gut.
What a cutie. Continue reading “Toadlet”
When you miss the caravan for the cedar glade field trip and try to find it on your own and no one at headquarters knows where the van was headed and you drive and drive where the brochure said it might be, but eventually give up and turn around.
when you start to notice what’s on the side of the road: Continue reading “Cedar Forest Road wildflowers”
I knew they weren’t box-elder bugs, but what? Hundreds and hundreds were mating and scurrying about on a (stupid) bush honeysuckle covered with (stupid) English ivy. So I type “red shoulder bug,” into BugGuide and guess what they are?
“Red-shouldered Bugs.” Continue reading “Red-shouldered bugs and a fresh assassin”
On American sycamore trees, buds are breaking. Under American sycamore trees, balls are breaking. Continue reading “Sycamore currency”
Once upon a time, a new grass appeared in the yard. At first, I thought the narrow leaves were wild onion, but they didn’t taste oniony. They didn’t look oniony, either, not on closer inspection: each wore a silvery line down the middle of the green.
Continue reading “Star of Bethlehem”
There are swaths of yellow right now in Elmington Park: small yellow blooms massed in the lawn. I hope the city doesn’t mow soon, because the yellow is Nashville mustard—our mustard—and it needs to go to seed and spread. I saw it on the way to Hebrew School, and as soon as I could, I went back and parked the car in the lot, then parked my body flat on the grass.
To me, this particular “spring ephemeral” is as welcome as a wildflower. It is a sign of the season: a “cedar apple,” doing its wacky thing in wet spring weather. This one is on our volunteer red-cedar tree in the front yard, and I’ve been waiting for the rusty, dry galls to wake from winter. Continue reading “Cedar Apple”