
I was curled on the sofa with a migraine, a bowl of pintos, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Michael texted me to come out in the rain and see the hickory branch. It was worth it. Continue reading “Hickory branch host”

I was curled on the sofa with a migraine, a bowl of pintos, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Michael texted me to come out in the rain and see the hickory branch. It was worth it. Continue reading “Hickory branch host”
Snow reveals the routes of hidden creatures.
Why do possum tracks in the driveway make me so happy? I know they live here. They certainly die here: I’ve got a lovely collection of possum bones from what vultures finish in our yard. Continue reading “Possum tracks”

Once you start stealing Christmas trees, you may not want to stop. I’ve got three right now. The best was the dried-up cedar by the curb a block over. My kid hauled it home for me, dragging it behind like a giant peacock tail.
From Dec. 26 through February, hundreds of used Christmas trees get tossed to the curbs at Metro’s 12 tree-cycling locations. Ideally, they all get chipped for mulch—mountains of free mulch—but the truth is, not all tree tossers read the rules. Trees that are stuck in stands, strung with lights, draped with tinsel, or flocked with whatever “flocking” is made of can NOT be recycled. They go to the landfill. So, these are rejects I steal first. Continue reading “Stealing Christmas Trees”

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”