Today

"There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot. These essays are the delights and dilemmas of one who cannot.

"Like winds and sunsets, wild things were taken for granted until progress began to do away with them. Now we face the question of whether a still higher 'standard of living' is worth its cost in things natural, wild and free. For us of the minority, the opportunity to see geese is more important than television, and the chance to find a pasque-flower is a right as inalienable as free speech..."

Pasqueflowers always make me think of Aldo Leopold. They secured an honored place in the second paragraph of the forward to ASCA... probably the most important and influential phenological document ever, not to mention one of the 2 most "impactful" environmental works ever written (and written over 60 years ago, so it's amazing how current its themes still seem. The other impactful book, by the way, is Silent Spring, this according to the American Nature Study Society). And so to me they have special significance. With their early bloom, they remind me that spring really will win over winter. Their rarity drives home the message of Leopold's book. Their diminutive size, almost hidden among last year's litter, tells us that beauty and wonder can come in small packages.

So, yea!! My pasqueflowers are blooming. I have no idea why they are so terribly pale, but I am thrilled that they came back. I've had a terrible time with them, never getting one to come back more than once. That includes this one, as we just put it in last year. Perhaps they only live for two years, though that doesn't seem right... And they're so hard to find, this is my last effort!

Other good news: my ephemerals did, indeed, come back. At least most of them. Shown below are bloodroot, mayapple, and a trillium, all behind last year's pace but there nonetheless. Shooting stars are also well along, and wild geraniums, and spring beauties, and wild ginger, and marsh marigold (one) and bluebells. The only things that didn't return to my yard are my red baneberry and my Dutchman's breeches.

These hepatica are in my mom's yard. They are a lot happier than mine. (Actually, my one that bloomed the other day isn't looking good at all. I suspect that was it's final attempt at productivity before expiring. I have two others that look like they'll be more like this, but they haven't bloomed yet at all.) My mom also has a Dutchman's breeches about 1.5 inches tall.

Oh, and we are having a major creeping charlie problem, which we may have to fight using drastic measures or we risk losing most of the aforementioned wildflowers.

Updates Part (Whatever)

Purple Prairie Clover

Besides the vibrant purple of the prairie clovers, here are some other observations from today:

Red baneberries are now, indeed, red berries.
Culver's root has the very first flowers at the bottom of the stalks.
This picture didn't really capture very well the lovely orange color of the flowers on the little bluestem, but let it act as a prompt to go outside and seek some... their tiny blooms -- which most people never notice at all -- are really quite special and colorful.

Some Actual Phenology

Sweet grass, a very early-flowering prairie grass, has flowers-turning-to-seeds. This short grass is rather aggressive (I may have made a different planting choice years ago, if I'd known how aggressive it was). It has crept into the lawn and now when I mow, the vanilla aroma for which it is named fills the air.
Honeysuckle blooms. These shrubs are the current bane of my gardening existence. If they were in my yard, they'd be removed, but alas, the neighbors don't have the same taste in plants as we.
Prairie alumroot. As far as I can tell, this is pretty much what they look like in flower. Not the showiest native plant...
Red baneberry blooms. I quite love this plant -- although more for its eponymous berries than these flowers -- so I am glad to see this one back... but also a little sad because I had two, and only one came back this year.

Also noted: Lewis' prairie flax bloomed mid-week at school, but in my yard the buds are still tightly closed.

Problems.

Nasturtium. (not a problem)

Mushrooms. (not a problem)

I have a problem. Several, actually. They say that's the first step to a solution. Admitting you have a problem. But my first problem -- that mosquitoes are inhabiting my yard in thirsty droves -- is prohibiting me from (comfortably) solving my other problems. The first other problem is the wild strawberries -- which I do like... but they're taking over, going crazy. That's why this picture of the blue-eyed grass flowers makes it look like they have strawberry leaves.

These little wood sorrels? Another problem. At first they look pretty, small and unassuming with tiny yellow flowers. Then they're everywhere. And my final problem (that I'm going to write about), undocumented by photos, involves more vegetable fungus. The basil is looking good. The tomatoes have been attacked, their leaves yellowing and spotty. Grrr. I have never had these problems before, but then, we don't usually have such cool, wet Junes.

Flowers on Solomon's seal (slightly blurry) and

red baneberry looking really, really red!

Garden Phenology: Strawberry Wars

As a mostly-locavore, I have been eating preserved or frozen fruit since apple season ended in the fall. Sure, there have been some exceptions, at other people's homes, but winter fruit, imported from California or even the southern hemisphere, isn't the same. It's not the same at all. Those of you who know, don't need me to describe it. And those of you who don't, wouldn't get it from my description anyhow.

And so the first strawberries of June are an incomparable treat. When the hard white berries began adorning the bushes in May, I was excited. When they started to turn pink, I could almost taste them. When I ate a bunch from my Mom's CSA box earlier this week, I was so happy... but not at all sated. This is why the birds, with their plot to destroy my strawberry crop entirely, are driving me nutters. You see, a few days ago, the first strawberry in the garden started to look red; it got to the point where we knew that tomorrow it would be ready. One strawberry. But tomorrow we looked, and found only the green cap. Berry all gone. And another strawberry, looking like it would be ready tomorrow.

But the next day? Same thing. No berry. The birds, seemingly excited as we, were taking our

i crop one little berry at a time. Now, I really am willing to share with the birds. But they don't

want to share. They want them all. I mean, they couldn't leave one red one as a good faith gesture? Plus, there's a whole patch of wild strawberries in the yard... And so, we dug in the shed for a net that had served this purpose in the past, and covered the berries with a net meant to keep the birds out. Well. This morning, I went to look and see if any were close (the closest is pictured at the top of this entry.) What I noticed right away was the severed strawberry on the

path (pictured right). It lay there, decapitated, as though a message: "Your silly net won't stop us! We can still get your strawberries!" And they left this non-ripe one just to prove the point. Like a Godfather horse head.

To steal from a very cute children's book, THOSE DARN BIRDS!!!!! (Old Man Fookwire raised his fist...)

In other news:
Nasturtium almost ready to flower.
Seeds of shooting star.
Berries on the red baneberry.
These beetles seem to like my butterfly weed. I don't know if they're bad or good but they're pretty and haven't done much damage in several days, so I"m thinking they're OK. (But if anyone knows different, let me know!!!)

PS -- It looks like we might finally have some good weather today! After days and days of blah. Not sunny, not warm... Sometimes downright cold. Last night we went to hear the free in Millenium Park live taping of Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me, and I think I was colder than I've ever been at Wrigley in April. (Course, I wear snow pants at Wrigley in April...) When will summer come?!?

Some photos

Under the umbrella.

Jack is back (and so is creeper).

Red Baneberry.

Trill!

Phlox that I don't even think I planted (but maybe I did, years ago...)

Sand cherry.