To squeeze a Sycamore ball is a seasonal pleasure, and the season is now. Now is when last year’s clusters of Sycamore seeds start to fall and to fall apart. For the next few weeks, they’ll disintegrate into drifting piles of loose, fluffy achenes: Sycamore “snow.”
To squeeze a Sycamore seed-ball is oddly satisfying. Call it a Contemplative Practice. Call it fun or sick or weird, but try it.
The Sycamore Squeeze is one way to get to know Where—and When—you are.
Today’s Sidewalk Nature: a spider-egg necklace in a Yew hedge. There are 1, 2, 3 pearls in this one, but I’ve seen up to eight. The mom spider—a Basilica orbweaver—is always nearby, till the frost gets her.
I grew up eating what Mom called wild onion. It showed up in the yard as free food. The long, hollow leaves were good to chew, as were the bulbs, but those were too intense to eat raw unless cheese and crackers were involved.
“Wondering how trees help birds and wildlife survive a Nashville winter?”
That’s the first sentence in my short piece at The Nashville Tree Conservation Corps, called “How Your Tree Helps Wildlife in Winter.” My goal was to highlight “essential services” that only native trees can give to our birds, butterflies, and other animal neighbors.
Even if you already know the answers, take a look? Are there other stories I should have included in the allotted word count? We all want readers to fall in love with what native trees can do.