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)

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

So Dry No Dew, But Manage to Identify St. Johnswort

June 21, 2010.  Monday.
Situation:   Today I have to go to work as soon as I can get around to it.  But first I have to do all of Moi’s chores, including take Mway for her morning walk.  I decide to take her out while the coffee water is dripping and while my computer is grinding away to open up its unwieldy programs.  It’s about 8:45.
State of the Path:  This early in the morning I expect to be splashed by the morning dew, but I don’t encounter any until I get to the seeps of bug land, and even there there’s not much of it, which serves to emphasize how dry it’s been.  Again I touch the touch-me-nots, and again they don’t coil and twinge, and I realize how hard and dry the ground of the path is, and that because of the lack of rain, the path is easier walking than it normally would be this time of year.  I don’t bother to take either side path, and although the end of the upper side path is choked with goldenrod, just before the wigwams, I think I can even make out a trace of the beginning of the path that used to cut across the field, although further on I see there’s too many weeds to make any easy attempt at it.  The raspberries, though, are doing well this year, and I help myself to some down by the creek.  At the swale from bug land, the touch-me-nots seem heartier, but they are not in flower there.  I look more closely at the yellow flowers on the way to the clearing.  They have five yellow petals, with stamens and so forth the same color.  I don’t find anything in Audubon that looks like what I see.
State of the Creek:  The rocky areas of the creek are definitely dry, with no water trickling through them.  So the creek consists of a string of disconnected, unflowing pools, one or two of which Mway walks into to cool off and take a sip of water.
The Fetch:  Mway fetches the “pro-quality” stick more times than I care to count.  I note that the grass underneath the goldenrod is brown.  On the walk back past the sumacs, the path is becoming choked with briars.  In the back yard, I look at the lawn and wonder if I should wait until tomorrow to mow it.
Addendum:  I finish up work and get home about 4:45.  I guess I’ll take Mway for another walk, after which I’ll eat and then I’ll mow the lawn after I eat.  I take both side paths, just for the sake of trampling the weeds.  I see grape vine leaves that are bigger than my hand; some of the fleabane towers over my head.  Down by the creek, I hear a frog or two croaking down where I used to see the skunk cabbages; I see a frog crossing the path as it leaps into the water.  Mway goes into a pool, and I can hear some dry rocks crackling against each other as she steps on them.  Then I stop at the yellow flowers on the way to the clearing – I’ve brought the Audubon with me.  As Mway heads up toward the clearing, and with the sun beating on my workshirt and sweat coming down my face, I leaf through the pictures, eliminating one by one several candidates for the plant I see before me:  black mustard? – nope; hedge mustard? – nope; common wintercress? – nope; nodding bur marigold? – nope;  tickseed sunflower? – almost, but nope.  Mway comes back down the path, and starts staring at me, beckoning me to the clearing.  Then just as I’m about ready to give up, I come upon what I’m certain that I’m looking at: common St. johnswort.  5 petals on branched, terminal clusters; long, opposite, elliptic leaves.  And the clincher: I even see the black dots on the margins of the petals.  Supposedly the leaves have tiny translucent dots that can be seen in the light; I tear a leaf off and hold it up, but Mway is still looking at me, and I drop the leaf and move on.

2 comments:

sisyphus gregor said...

You were on a roll yesterday. Do it again.

Anonymous said...

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