Shumard oak acorns, caps and a former resident.
I don’t have the patience to confirm these acorn cap scales are arranged in a Fibonacci sequence, but there is another marvel in the photo, and it is quicker to spot. See the pinhole in two of the shells? The hole tells squirrels and foragers we need not gather these acorns, because what remains inside is not a meal but a mealy powder. It’s the exit hole of an acorn weevil larva. Continue reading “See, Know Weevil”
You know the children’s book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie? Well, I know what happens if you give a mouse a ginkgo fruit. It isn’t quite the same story, and it would not make a bestselling picture book. Continue reading “If You Give a Mouse a Gingko Fruit”
“Inchworm, inchworm, measuring the marigolds . . . ”
Ever since Middle School chorus the Inchworm song has helped me double eights and sixteens. (Danny Kaye sang it first, in his weird but mesmerizing film Hans Christian Anderson.) It’s also the song that loops in my head—nearly a literal earworm—when I see inchworms. Continue reading “Twig Mimic”
Christmas fern at Christmas! Polystichum acrostichoides. We saw oodles at Beaman Park yesterday and I hoped, what with it being Christmas Eve and all, that an ID would prove Christmas fern. Bingo. Continue reading “Merry Christmas Fern”
Last week’s wind took our neighbor’s big tree down just after midnight. The neighbor is absentee, unreachable and still doesn’t know his tree ended up in Next Door’s kitchen.
Oh, the many, many tree cookies I could have cut with a power saw and a powerful arm (I have neither). I did sneak over and haul back anything I could carry, like this curved strip of shreddy fibers, clean, white, strong. Continue reading “Hackberry sapwood”
In stinkhorn seasons, you’ll see a lot of wtf? identification requests on facebook. The answers are as weird as the questions. Continue reading “Stinkhorn”
Osage orange fruit. Hedge apples. Monkey brains. Maclura pomifera. Yellow-green, squiggly, hairy spheres the size of grapefruits. If these are underfoot on a fall hike, I guarantee someone will mention the purported insect and/or spider repellent properties of an Osage orange. Rumor has it that a few of these bowling balls under one’s bed or kitchen sink will convince critters to stay outside. If this were true, I’d superglue a row of fruit along every baseboard of my house. Continue reading “Osage Orange as Bug Repellant and Mammoth Snack”
Last night’s freeze made the ginkgo trees give it up, give it ALL up. I woke to bare branches and eddies of golden fans. Did it happen all at once? Did the tree heave a sneeze when the thermometer hit below 30 and then FFHOOOOM! eject every leaf?
Apparently, ginkgos are known for sudden synchronized leaf drop. I sure would love to see it happen. I need to compare it to the Pixar version that lives in my head. Continue reading “Ginkgo Leaf Surrender”
I’m a messy person. Always have been, always will be. I admire folks who keep a tidy house. But I take issue with tidy yards, because tidiness reduces habitat for countless creatures. Continue reading “In Praise of the Messy Fall Yard”
I kept seeing these suspiciously perfect trees at Vandy—flanking the Children’s Hospital, standing guard along West End—with fluted columns and urbane foliage. When I noticed they had elm seeds in October (most elms produce seeds in spring), I investigated. Continue reading “Lacebark Elm Snack”
SIDEWALK NATURE 