fertility everywhere

we’ve had two courting sandhill cranes in our yard for five days now. sandhill cranes have one of the longest fossil histories of any extant bird–going back 10 million years. they are the oldest living bird. for five nights, we have been going out on our deck to watch “crane tv” for several hours. seeing them wander among these equally prehistoric-looking ferns has us feeling like we are extras on the set of jurassic park.

detail of interrupted fern with fertile spores along the midrib (Claytosmunda claytoniana)

i’m sorry, i interrupted you

interrupted ferns are the very first fern to emerge each spring here in the north. for that reason, they hold a special place in my heart. i have a lot of them in my woods. so the other day, i offered some to my friend anna for her garden. she asked “what’s an interrupted fern?”, i said, oh it’s a native fern. it’s the first fern to emerge in spring. it gets large like an ostrich fern. and it’s called interrupted because some of the frond get “interrupted” for spore growth. anna stopped me right there. “interrupted?” she said. “oh no, no, no, no. i can’t deal with that. i don’t want that in my garden. no thank you. that would drive me batty. ”  So tell me, would these ferns irritate you? or fill you with wonder? me? i like diversity. i think they are interesting and different. i like them.

interrupted ferns in may

spring greens

there are more hues and shades of green in may than i will be able to find in june and july. i like may. may and november may be my favorite months for STILL. exactly six months apart, these in-between months are a daily surprise. more happens in may than all of june, july, and august together. so pay attention–we are in transition. it’s exciting.

white oak leaves in mid may

death in the season of growth

six months of every year i drink an extra-hot latte every day, and the other six months i opt for an iced latte. for six months i need a little warm-me-up in the afternoon, and for the other six months, i need a little cool-me-down. anyway, may is my switch-over month. i don’t frankly know what this has to do with the crêpe paper texture of these fading magnolia blossoms. it’s possible i was intimidated at the prospect of trying to put their senescent majesty into words, and instead chose to talk about espresso drinks.

spent magnolia blossoms

the last melon!

do you remember the “last melon” scene from the movie Ice Age?  i hope so, because then you will fully understand when i say…this is the last fiddlehead. the last fiddddddddleheaaaaad.

ostrich fern fiddlehead