dehydrated but not desiccated

We bought a dehydrator this spring in anticipation of all the culinary botanical harvesting my boys were planning to do. I am not a fan of gadgets in general, and I am especially not a fan of large kitchen gadgets that take up counter space. So, I was not happy when the dehydrator showed up and parked itself on the corner of my new kitchen island. This story not only works out, however, but even was a silver lining–as STILL silver lining. The dehydrator is indeed being used and proving quite irreplaceable for the boys. And due to the low hum of its fan, it found a permanent home on a basement workbench. And, best of all, it is proving to be a very fun STILL laboratory. I’ve only had a few opportunities to play with it due to its high demand, but so far all the flowers and leaves I have placed in there are drying out in a way that is different, dare I say better, than my other method of leaving them under the kitchen counter or in the corner of an unused room for two weeks. These tiger lilies are the same lilies I posted two weeks ago. I placed them in the dehydrator, on low, for about 2 days. I love the results–still colorful yet moody, with movement and texture and detail. YUM! I have put myself back in the queue, but right now the boys are dehydrating our garden peppers. Hurry up boys! I have lots of experiments to try!

dehydrated tiger lily flowers (Lilium lancifolium)

not so galling

There is something very zen about goldenrod galls. A fly decides to lay her eggs in the growing shoots of a goldenrod stem which totally disrupts its growth. But instead of giving up and wilting, the goldenrod builds a beautiful house around the larvae and then resumes its important work as if nothing had happened. The fly babies get a groovy custom built home, and the goldenrod apparently gets nothing in return. What a generous spirit goldenrod has.

goldenrod (Solidago) stems with ball galls caused by the larvae of the goldenrod gall fly (Eurosta solidaginis).

plum assignment

Last year, Steve and Joe harvested some wild plums at our friend Paula’s farm. They lacto-fermented them because for two years we have been fermenting just about every native foodstuff they find. Anyway, we didn’t know what to do with the fermented plums, so we made plum crisps with them. And, I’ll be damned, they were delicious. So when we came upon a large stand of wild plums the other day, we all got quite excited: The boys for their culinary explorations, and me for my artistic ones. I have a soft spot for all my subjects that get these waxy blooms on them. It softens the colors in such a pleasing way. As I stare at this photo, I realize now that I should have made a solar system out of them instead of a grid. The look like planets to me.

wild plums ripening: (Prunus americana) or Prunus nigra (Canada Plum)

molting season

All the birds are preening and dropping feathers as they do their post breeding molts: Getting rid of the damaged feathers and making room for new growth. This blue jay feather has split ends. Too bad the birds can’t just trim of the damaged bits like we do. Losing feathers–especially flight feathers–leaves them vulnerable for several weeks to a couple of months. Coming across a colorful feather like this feels similar to finding a perfect piece of sea glass on the beach. A treasure like all the others, but a little more memorable for being so exquisitely colored.

damaged blue jay feather (Cyanocitta cristata)

shhhh, don’t tell that flower it’s a bunch gall

I love throwing my more unusual photos into Google image search just to see what I get. This is a goldenrod bunch gall. A little midge plants its larva in the stem of a growing goldenrod plant, and the resulting stunted growth creates this bunched leaf rosette. I stripped the leaves off the stem in order to isolate the bunch. Here is what Google AI thought this was:

“This appears to be a Rosa ‘Green Rose’ (Rosa chinensis ‘Viridiflora’), an antique rose variety known for its unique green, petal-less blooms.”

Of course, I had to look up Rosa chinensis ‘Viridiflora. And my goodness, it looks just like my bunch gall. It turns out the Green Rose is a phyllomorphy of the pink China Rosa. Phyllody is the abnormal development of floral parts into leafy structures. Phyllody, a new-to-me word. How about you? Ever heard of phyllomorphy?

goldenrod bunch gall (Rhopalomyia solidaginis)