The beginning of wisdom, as the Chinese say, is calling things by their right names. (E. O. Wilson, as cited by Elizabeth J. Rosenthal, Birdwatcher: The Life of Roger Tory Peterson)

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Plant Peed On Beginning to Flower, Still Unidentifiable

June 25, 2010.  Friday.
Situation:  Last night Moi was home when I came back from work.  Atlas was with her.  Moi spent a lot of time telling me how she has been trying to train Atlas while down at Jazz’s, teaching him some basic commands like “come” and “stay.”  She feels she has made a lot of progress, although Atlas is still a lot to handle.  Because she feels more confident controlling Atlas, she took both dogs on the morning walk today, without leashes.  But she skipped throwing the stick, and back at the house Mway refused to eat anything.  Moi has gone back down to Jazz’s with Atlas.  I don’t have to work until tonight, so I’ll be able to take Mway on her afternoon walk.  It was nice to be able to get up this morning without having to do all the chores. I finally take Mway out about 2:45.  After Moi left, Mway slammed the door on herself in her room, so I have to let her out.  To finish up this entry, I have to remove Squeak from my office chair.   Squeak, who never goes outside, seems to like to sleep in the places I most use, like this chair, and the bathroom sink.  I’ve had to pick her up and move her a couple times already today.
State of the Path:  Mway starts sniffing the lawn, and I don’t see her again on the walk until I’ve crossed the feed channel and am walking across the crest of the skating pond.  I eat a couple raspberries by the old orchard, mindful of getting the seeds stuck in my teeth.  They are sweet and juicy.  I note that whatever the plant is I peed on a couple weeks ago is starting to flower, and there are a number of these shrub-like plants along the path, especially in the upper field.  I still can’t figure out from Audubon what this plant might be, but maybe in the coming days as they flower more I’ll be able to identify it.  The ground is like a bone, and with the heat and lack of rain keeping the grass and jewelweed beat down, the path opens up helplessly to my foot steps, which only have to contend with plants like goldenrod, grape vines, and briars, which seem to thrive in the dry heat.  A few butterflies – white ones – flutter about.
State of the Creek:  All the pools are still there, but they are shrinking even more.  The pool at the log jam has receded halfway across, and some kind of flies are buzzing around in the fresh mud.  A couple of the other pools are again crowded with water striders, who sit there squat in the water, with no room to stride about.
The Fetch:  Mway fetches the “pro-quality” stick more times than I bother to count, but probably less than seven times today.  Whatever the plant is that I’ve been wondering about, I see a couple of them coming up in the middle of the clearing among the goldenrod.  On the way back on the path by the sumacs, I regret again not bringing some clippers.  I have to tear back a briar jutting into the pathway with my gloved hands.

2 comments:

sisyphus gregor said...

Hey, why not again?

Anonymous said...

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