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)

Showing posts with label literature of the absurd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature of the absurd. Show all posts

Friday, August 5, 2011

Wonder about Toothed, Untoothed, Leaves

August 5, 2010.  Thursday.
Situation:  I have to work both tonight and this afternoon, or, as Moi would put it, as soon as I can get my ass moving.  I’m going to take Mway for a walk now.  It’s 10:21.  I already spent an hour or more online searching black chokeberries, and I’ve gathered quite a bit of information, helpful or not I don’t know: “leaves are alternate, simple, oblanceolate with crenate margins and pinnate venation; leaves have terminal glands on leaf teeth and glabrous underside.”
State of the Path:  Quick jaunt down to the creek and back.  Note two boneset plants right at the pig pen.  At the start of bug land, look again at the “black chokeberry bush,” looming over 8 feet tall.  Putting aside the question of the flowers, which I don’t remember anything about now, this plant would fit the bill for “black chokeberry,” except its leaves don’t look toothed.  Just how toothed are these leaves suppose to be?  Then when I get to the swale from bug land, where there are a lot of these bushes, I run into a bush that does have toothed leaves.  I look around me, and I see a couple of these bushes with toothed leaves, but none of them have berries, and they are surrounded by bushes with berries, but with leaves that don’t look toothed.  What am I suppose to make of this?
State of the Creek:  Though there was a brief storm last night, it didn’t put any more water into the creek.  Vinyl siding still between 2 and 3 feet away from the edge of the water.
The Fetch:  Up at the clearing, two small plants with big white flowers.  “Damn it,” I think, “Another plant to find the name for.”  Just one fetch – and that’s good.  Got to get my ass moving.