sea floor forest floor.
my husband pulled this plant before it had begun to sprout, and neither of us knew what it was. it looked like a sea fan or an anemone tucked into its sheath, ready to extend little fingers into the current. what emerged instead was a jack-in-the-pulpit, which means we will be restoring this little anemone back where it belongs, with wind for current, and fertile soil for sandy bottom.
jack in the pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum)
acts of service
have you taken the love languages test? if not, i recommend it. my love language is “acts of service.” last night i agreed to help my husband steve set up a better work flow system for his off-tax season writing career. in exchange, he asked “what can i do for you?”. i suggested he take a walk around the yard and gather everything that caught his eye and represented what nature was doing in exactly this place, on exactly this day. he did that, and then stuck around to help me make a spring STILL assemblage. a worthy double act of service.
spring gatherings from one walk on may 10, 2020
every year i wrestle with how to convey the utter exuberance that is crabapple blossom season. and every year the images i photograph look like colorful chaos, and not joyful abundance. this year was no exception. i spent an hour posing branches this way and that before i finally admitted defeat. so i plucked the blossoms from the stems and tossed them on white paper, and click click click. i like the results. yay chaos. joyful abundance, you can kiss my ass.
crabapple blossoms (Malus)
these are the wing feathers of a mallard drake who had strolled through our yard twice a day with his mate since their joint arrival this spring. we had come to look forward to their early evening passeggiata, and made inane conversation with them as they wandered by. then one day, it was just mama duck walking toward us across the back yard. and the next day we discovered a pile of feathers next to the dock. in this season of so many losses, we took this one particularly hard.
mallard wing feathers
merrybells keep ringing
one of my discoveries after i spent a weekend cleaning up our woods was a scattered collection of these bellworts, aka “merrybells.” my neighbor tells me the woods used to be full of them, before the buckthorn took over. she also said that there were so many bracken ferns that a local nursery arrived every year to dig more up and sell them. the bad news is that the carpet of bracken ferns is gone. the good news is that mary jo hoffman loves ferns, and just discovered that she can carpet her woods with them.
sessile-leaved bellwort (Uvularia sessilifolia)