Myriad Myrios

Day 230: The Myriosclerotinia head-count jumped from seven to 65 in the space of a week at Site 1, but snow cover thwarted Team Biota's plans to visit Site 2 and kept us from checking another potential location. That said, Site 1 contains two separate plots where this rare and short-lived cup-fungus occurs. The second plot yielded up only a few as yet. On this occasion, we flagged each one for a long-view photo, measured water temperatures and dimensions of the larger cups. The following day, another Park colleague and I returned to take specimens of the sedge and sphagnum, and were surprised to find that the census had diminished by over half in a mere 24 hours. Were the missing fungi eaten by some critter? Was our failure to find them due to brighter light? Or was their absence simply part of their ephemeral nature? So many questions, and so few days in which to find clues or answers!

The Aspen Mission

Day 229: This is the first installment in the saga of Team Biota's May 29 field trip. There will be several more forthcoming.

Until yesterday, there had been no official record of Populus tremuloides (Quaking Aspen) within the Park boundaries. Plant Ecologist Arnie Peterson had received a report and photos from a member of the Owl Crew, but with anything of this nature, the plant's presence needed to be verified and herbarium specimens needed to be collected. Arnie provided Joe Dreimiller and I with coordinates for the site and off we went.

It didn't look like a place where you'd expect Aspens to grow, and indeed the 41 specimens we identified and flagged looked like they'd been struggling for many years just to reach a height of thirty inches (the tallest), but there was no doubt that they were P. tremuloides: stunted, but definitely Aspen. Any obviously live growth (fresh foliage) occurred on stems no larger than my little finger. However in many cases, multiple shoots were observed emerging from a thicker (1.5") woody base, often with the dead wood of former growth attached to it. All but three specimens occurred in a narrow swale approximately 10' x 100', in thin soil over rock better suited to moss and lichen. With such a small population in a very localized area, we couldn't reasonably remove an herbarium specimen roots and all, so three twigs were taken, sufficient to document the species.

Arnie, Joe and I are baffled by the presence of these trees. How did they get here? They're too far from any known Aspen population for a seed to have been excreted by a bird, although I believe that there could be a slim chance that one might have been caught in feathers. Likewise, although elk enjoy the occasional snack of Aspen, the same distance limitation applies. We searched for a larger parent tree, but found nothing. It is, as they say, a puzzlement, but Team Biota is on the case!

Iris Superstition

Day 228: Tonight, you get Superstition, my favourite standard iris. Although it looks dark purple in this photo, it appears to be almost black in sunlight. And those two sentences required 90% of my remaining energy. Y'see, today was a Team Biota adventure; no, capitalize that "A" - Adventure. Why? Well, we were assigned the task of documenting and collecting herbarium specimens of a species heretofore unrecorded in the Park. A possible sighting had been reported to our Plant Ecologist by someone on the Owl Survey team, but it needed to be officially confirmed. Enter Joe and Crow.

No, I'm too tired to tell this story tonight, and it doesn't go with Superstition anyway. Call it a cliff-hanger, if you will. Tomorrow, then. I need another cup of tea and a good night's sleep. Oh, and some Tylenol.

Scaevola From Down Under

Day 227: As I was wandering around Watson's Nursery looking for annuals for my hanging baskets, I encountered this relatively new introduction to the US gardening scene. Scaevola is an Australian/Polynesian species, known commonly as Fan Flower or Half-Flower. It has trailing stems, a long flowering period, and purportedly tolerates forgetful watering, a feature I hope not to put to the test. It comes in a number of different colours. It seems to grow fairly rapidly. Mine have only been in the baskets a few weeks and are already starting to hang over the sides, flowers emerging at almost every node. I think I'm going to like this one!

Folklife Morris Showcase

Day 226: What a fantastic day! Sound & Fury danced as part of Folklife's "Morris Dance Showcase" yesterday, performing in the morning on the indoor Armory stage and in the afternoon, on McCaw Promenade in perfect weather. I didn't count the number of sides, but there were 8-10 from local groups and as far away as Moscow ID, Eugene OR and Vancouver BC representing a variety of Morris traditions. Dances were done in rotation with the other groups, giving us plenty of time between sets to catch our breath and take some photos.

Anemone Lyallii And Friend

Day 225: Anemone lyallii (Lyall's Anemone) was thought to be relatively uncommon in the Park until Team Biota discovered two healthy populations in two widely separated locations. It is distinguished in the field from its cousin Anemone oregana by a slightly different leaf structure and by the number of stamens in its flower (A. oregana has 35-100 as opposed to lyallii's 12-20). The flower can be white, blue or pink. Although oregana is larger than lyallii, both are significantly smaller than the familiar Western Anemone (A. occidentalis). Lyallii is the smallest of the three, standing only a few inches high.

Summer Snowballs

Day 224: After a friend posted a photo of her snowball bush (Viburnum opulus), I was reminded that I've intended to plant one for as long as I've lived here. Being at a higher altitude than much of western Washington means that I am in a different Plant Hardiness Zone than the lowlands, so invariably, by the time I'm ready to plant, the stores have sold out of many things. I've made a few attempts to find a snowball bush, but with no success. Since Gordon's Garden Center was on my way home yesterday, I decided to stop. Yes, they had some...no, excuse me...looks like somebody bought the last ones. Thwarted again, I just sighed and moved along. Then I remembered Gartenmeister near South Hill. They've supplied me with a number of "grandma's garden" species in the past. I didn't have their number in my stupid (as opposed to smart) phone, nor did I have their card in the car. I decided to take a chance, and embarked on a rather substantial detour from my route. They had two left! Both were in two-gallon pots, exactly the size I'd been hoping to find. This one followed me home, accompanied by a "Red Heart" Rose-of-Sharon.

When I moved into this house, the only landscaping was the yew hedge, the Whatzit Tree (unidentified, now deceased) and a straggly lilac. Now the yard features several sizeable trees (Harry Lauder, a red dogwood, a Japanese maple, mountain ash, pussywillow, Philadelphus), some young ones which will grow to a good height (Golden Chain, horse chestnut), many smaller shrubs and flower beds galore. There is colour in every season, shade against the summer sun, food for pollinators, habitat for birds. Like my flower beds, the yard has no formal design, no long-term vision. If there's a hole, I fill it with something which will benefit wildlife and please my eye. That's good enough for me.

Seussian Sundew

Day 223: I encountered a Seussian Sundew in my patrol of Lake St. Clair today, or maybe it's the child in the poem:
There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good, she was very, very good,
But when she was bad, she was horrid.

Yes, I made my first trip out in the 'yak for the year, and of course my priority was visiting my kids. They are exceptionally lush this year along Jack's logs, but I still haven't been able to locate the errant Sundew Island which went adrift a couple of years ago. Some of Jack's mob were just starting to unfurl and looked very much like bean sprouts. Others were fully open and already digesting a wide variety of insects. It's too early yet for the flowering stalks to emerge, but you can bet I'll be checking on them every couple of weeks.

Three-Quarter Mile Trifida

Day 222: Although it's not as rare as some of the other species Team Biota has found in Mount Rainier National Park, Corallorhiza trifida is nevertheless more rare than "uncommon." It is a member of the Orchidaceae, but is significantly smaller than its well-known cousins, C. mertensiana and C. maculata. Mature stems seldom reach more than 6-8" in height. To date, we have found it in three locations closely linked by soil type. That said, plants have only emerged at one of the sites this year: a total of 11 stems, 10 of which are likely to be sharing the same mycorrhizal structure. Six are in the tight cluster shown here. Why the other sites have not been productive this year is a mystery. One of them should also have held a healthy population of Calypso Orchids, but only a few were seen. Another rare Corallorhiza is reputed to occur in the Park, although the only existing herbarium specimen proved to be misidentified. That species (Corallorhiza striata) is on my Plant Bucket List for sure. If it really does occur in the Park, I will find it some day, and I won't need to post it. You'll hear me yell, "I've got striata!"

A Myrio Of Rare Device

Day 221: Most of my readers will be familiar with these inconspicuous but very special little fungi from earlier entries in my blog. However, if you happen to have missed the fanfare, this is Myriosclerotinia caricis-ampullaceae, a critter which is rare world-wide not only as a species but as a genus. In 2016, my botany partner Joe Dreimiller and I found them in Mount Rainier National Park where they had only been recorded once previously in a different location in 1948. After some substantial research into the species' preferred habitat and the historical record, we were able to locate the 1948 site and found them present there as well. Since then, the Hunt for Myriosclerotinia has become an annual project for Team Biota under the aegis of the Park's Natural Resources division.

Last year, we found a record number in "our" site, but none in the historic site. Of even greater importance was the discovery of a specimen still attached to its host. Our Plant Ecologist Arnie Peterson and I spent the remainder of that day dissecting it to reveal the knobby sclerotium characteristic of the species. At that point, any doubts about correct identification evaporated.

Today, Joe made a preliminary foray to "our" location and after an hour and a half of searching, returned to Longmire to report to me that he had found a single specimen. I dropped what I was doing, grabbed a radio, let a confidant know where we were headed and returned to the site. Over the course of the next hour of slopping about in snow melt, we found a total of seven cups. Not bad for a start to the season!

Cool Hues

Day 220: It's taken close to 30 years, but I think I have finally achieved a sufficiently cool-hued garden to meet my esthetic requirements. The theme has been somewhat more challenging than I expected to maintain throughout the season, and I'll admit that toward the end of summer, it shades into reds and yellows. That said, at least I've phased out most of the pink (or relocated it). The most dramatic change has been in the columbines. Now blues and purples dominate where once only one pale yellow broke up a wash of pink. The colour change hasn't affected the hummingbirds' interest in the nectar-rich blossoms. In fact, hummers are drawn to blue with the same passion they exhibit for red, and they love the delphiniums which are just now setting buds. There's more blue to come!

Twinberry, Lonicera Involucrata

Day 219: A member of the honeysuckle family, Twinberry (Lonicera involucrata) is a woody shrub which can attain a height up to 10 feet. It is one of the species selected by the Nisqually Land Trust for use in the restoration of Ohop Valley. The yellow flowers occur in pairs at the leaf axils, attract hummingbirds and insect pollinators, and are followed by development of two bitter-tasting black berries, non-poisonous but unpalatable to humans. However, the fruits are a valuable food source for grouse and quail, as well as songbirds including grosbeaks and thrushes. The dense growth habit of this shrub also provides habitat and protection from predators for birds and small mammals.

As Blue As It Comes

Day 218: You want blue? Lithodora will give you blue almost non-stop! Even over the winter, a few flowers held on, but once the weather warmed up, this dainty, sturdy ground cover took off at high speed. It has a mounding habit, but also spreads rapidly and will form a nice cascade over a rockery or low wall. It isn't difficult to confine, although you'll need to trim it back a couple of times during the growing season if you want a more structured look in your plantings, but if you want a carpet of blue, let it run and enjoy the intensity.

Bleeding-Hearts

Day 217: Yes, they're pink, and I doubt that a single one of my readers remains unaware of my distaste for the colour. That said, I can excuse it in nature and yes, in some cases, I even find it to be acceptable in my garden. I don't want it to be the theme, you understand, but when it provides colour in a space where it is much needed, I'll use it. The shady north side of my carport is a case in point. Not much survives there except ferns and the persistent buttercups which are the weeder's bane. The only way I could defeat the Ranuculus invasion was to lay down barrier cloth and top it with a thick layer of bark mulch. Asian Bleeding-heart, Andromeda (bog rosemary), maidenhair and other ferns fill out the space beneath boughs of rampant Wisteria. The arching stems of Bleeding-heart are particularly heavy with bloom this year, pink which despite my general aversion is a welcome sight.

Platypredia Virginalis, Ranchman's Tiger Moth

Day 216: My big score from Ohop Valley yesterday was Platypredia virginalis, known variously as "Ranchman's Tiger Moth" or "Rangeland Tiger Moth." Somewhat larger than the familiar Banded Woolly Bear (Isabella Tiger Moth), Platypredia virginalis reverses the colour scheme: orange on the ends, black in the middle, but adds in long white guard hairs as a dorsal mane. The caterpillars' primary diet consists of plaintains (a genus of weedy plants, not bananas), dandelions and lupine. Plaintain is abundant at this site. It's not that I've never seen the caterpillars before, but thanks to entomologists at BugGuide.net, I am now able to associate the critters with their moth which, incidentally, flies during the day. Its black forewings are striking, marked with large white/cream spots. The hindwings may be black and orange (common at Ohop) or black and white. This specimen was in a big hurry to meet the biological imperative, going hell-bent-for-leather across the asphalt in search of a host plant.

Garden Muffins

Day 215: "Oh, look! Muffins!" That's what I said on my way back from the mailbox when I noticed these textbook specimens of Agrocybe praecox outlined against the juniper. According to "Mushrooms of the Pacific Northwest," this species commonly occurs where bark chips or mulch has been laid down. Yep, that fits the profile! The cracked cap is typical of the genus and indeed there are some look-alikes which can be separated out by the presence/absence of an annulus (ring), remnants of a veil, preferred substrate, variations in colour, striations on the stipe and, if push comes to shove, microscopic examination and measurement of the spores. Purportedly edible, A. praecox is said to have a bitter taste. Thank you, I'll give the muffins a pass.

Oriental Poppy

Day 214: Another one of those "too pretty to weed out" plants, this Oriental poppy was one of the discoveries made while renovating grassed-over flower beds during the first spring after I moved here. At the time, I didn't realize how aggressive it was and gave it a position of prominence beneath the window. By the time a few years had elapsed, it had multiplied to a three-foot diameter clump, dominating the garden with its foliage long after the short-lived flowers had dropped. I decided I'd had enough of its bullying, and one day went out with the shovel to address the issue. "Look, you're fine as a bush, okay? But I want more bang for my buck. You're just not givin' me colour here, kid. Move out!" I excavated a wide circle, convinced that I could win the war with one pre-emptive strike. The following year, dozens of little poppy leaves up again in the spot I'd dug out. I executed another shovelling assault. Even so, it took about five years before I had successfully removed any trace from the flower bed. The relocated poppy was quite happy against my back fence for a decade until one tree began shading it out. After an inner debate, I decided to relocate it again rather than letting it die off. It now occupies a space in the Barren Wasteland which, I must say, is at this point hardly deserving of the name.

Weedy Accents

Day 213: There is no particular "structure" to my garden. If there's a hole, I fill it with something. Between the house and garage is a space I refer to as the Barren Wasteland. A lot of things I couldn't bear to throw out have landed there for want of a better home. It also benefits from those free wildflower packets which invariably come in the mail, and although a few of the species designated for PNW planting are actually rather invasive (California poppies, for one), occasionally there's a diamond in the dust. My fence line is another problem area. The driveway to my neighbour's house has been so built up with gravel over the years that the cedar posts are in a trench, a fact which makes the lower rails very difficult to mow under. I'm always on the lookout for anything bushy I can put there, with a mind to eventually doing away with the fence altogether.

Kerria japonica (left) is a woody shrub which can get rather sprangly over time. Some years ago, I nicked a slip from a roadside bush, thinking it would be good filler. It hasn't really taken off yet, but at least it provides some colour and visual interest with its orange pompoms. The Wallflower (Erysimum, syn. Cheiranthus, right) came in a wildflower packet and I keep hoping it will multiply. It has a wonderful perfume, strongest in early evening, which is evident some days even though there's only one plant.

Fair Entries

Day 212: It's official! I will have at least two entries in the Washington State Fair this year, a woven table runner and a mounted bobbin lace handkerchief edging. It will be the first time I've entered anything in Home Arts. Okay, I'm still a foot or so away from having the table runners off the loom (I warped for three), but if push came to shove, I could have it done in two days. I have lots of time. Entries are to be delivered to the Fair August 17-19. Last year, there were only two examples of bobbin lace. These may not be my only entries. Registration will remain open through July. Maybe I can even get another weaving project done by then!

Oh, My Darling Columbine

Day 211: Whenever possible, I tag my plants with their varietal names, and of course this helps when I'm plant-shopping for something new. I'm not totally OCD about it, though, and therefore three of these go in the class of "unknowns." Top left is "Spring Magic," a shorter, larger-flowered variation of the typical wild columbine seen in the Rocky Mountains and surrounding areas. Center top is "Black Barlow," a fully double tall variety. Top right and lower left are unidentified, both tall. Middle bottom is "Winky," an enchanting double dwarf with an upright flower form. Odd man out (lower right) is the pink and yellow variety which came with the house. I've eliminated most of them, but decided to keep a few for reasons of nostalgia. I have one other pale double pink which isn't showing signs of buds as yet. The hummingbirds aren't picky. They love them all, but for me, blues are best, and obviously, they're far from boring.

Not Asparagus

Day 210: Other than my usual meanderings-around, today was my first real field day (albeit rather damp) looking for rare plants this year. Erupting three weeks later than they did in 2017 due to late-lying snow, nine Corallorhiza trifida stems made their appearance at the location I call "Three-Quarter Mile." None were seen in either of the remaining two customary pocket ecologies, but eight of these were in the "asparagus" stage of early development. The solitary blooming specimen was shorter than average at approximately 4". Warmer temperatures are projected for the weekend, so the buds should be fully open in about 10 days.

Tickling The Akebias

Day 209: Last year, I successfully cross-pollinated my two Akebia vines, but only in one direction. I lifted pollen from the anthers of the white varietal and fertilized the female purple flowers. The male purple flowers never developed pollen to transfer back to the white stigmas. As a result, only the purple-flowered plant bore fruit. After making several attempts to convince myself that the pith was even remotely edible, I decided that the plants provided better service as novelty vines. Trust me on this, the fruit was nasty. That said, the experiment was interesting, so I've decided to repeat the process this year. So far, I have been able to lift pollen only from the white-flowered plant. No pollen has developed on the purple anthers, making me wonder if the male flowers are sterile. My observations have been somewhat hampered by rain, so it's possible that a few days of warm weather may generate pollen formation, but this may not occur while the female white flowers are receptive.

Hardy Fuchsia Cultivars

Day 208: Gordon's in Yelm is rather small as garden stores go, but over the years, I have found some real treasures there and at good prices. Most of my hardy fuchsias have come from them, in the one-gallon size. I knew they sometimes had smaller pots, but I never seemed to hit it at the right time. Yesterday, I scored three new cultivars for $3.99 each, all hardy in Zone 7. This brings my collection of hardy fuchsias to eight now, and since they are a major draw for hummingbirds, I wouldn't mind having even more (preferably different, although I may divide some of my larger specimens). My first was Genii, a small-flowered variety with hot pink sepals and a dark purple corolla. I also have Riccartonii (another small-flowered type), Army Nurse and Dollar Princess (both of which have large flowers similar to those on the annuals), and enchanting Erecta which, true to its name, faces upward. Erecta is white with a pale pink corolla. The others are various shades of pink and purple in a variety of combinations of hue, foliage shape and colour, and flower forms (single, double). Although hardy fuchsias can become rather sprangly, they are easy to maintain in a compact shape. New shoots arise from the base each year; old stalks will put out leaves somewhat later, so they can be pruned back or removed entirely.

Refuge Pond Slider

Day 207: I arrived early for a meeting with Nisqually Land Trust staff this morning in regard to my upcoming restoration field trip, so took the opportunity to stroll around the Twin Barns Loop boardwalk. Usually when the average visitors are pointing and talking, the object of their interest is something which in a wetland is as mundane as a Great Blue Heron or a couple of Canada Geese on a nest. However, when I heard the word "turtle" drop, I decided I'd better have a look. Sure enough, it was a Pond Slider (Trachemys scripta), essentially your pet-shop turtle on steroids, non-native but currently not classified as invasive because they generally don't raise successful clutches of young or die out in a year or two. That said, the population is growing at Lake St. Clair, a fact I attribute to warmer water temperatures. I was not expecting to see them at Billy Frank, and especially not as sizeable as the two I observed today. I dutifully photographed them and sent the information to my contact at the Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. I wonder how old they are, to have reached this size? I mean, how long has it been since pet stores were allowed to sell them? Not since I was a teenager! This turtle must be close to my age, and there it is, happy as Larry in a wildlife refuge where it most definitely does not belong.

Multicoloured Asian Ladybird, Harmonia Axyridis

Day 206: Harmonia axyridis has more common names than it has spot patterns, notably "Hallowe'en ladybug," "harlequin lady beetle," "multicoloured Asian ladybird" and assorted variations on those and other themes. It can appear in an entirely red or orange form, or it can have as many as 22 spots on its shell. The identifying feature which sorts it out in the field is its size. It is quite possibly the largest ladybug you'll see in the Pacific Northwest. A typical specimen (i.e., one which shows numerous distinctive markings) will have a white pronotum marked with black, as is the case here.

Introduced to the US to help control aphids and scale insects, these ladybirds frequently appear in large numbers during the spring and fall. Despite their abundance, they are not considered an invasive species, although anyone who's ever picked 38 of them off their shower walls before having a wash as I once did might disagree with that assessment.

Confiding

Day 205: Old birding guides will often refer to Chickadees as "confiding." The word in this context doesn't mean that they're telling you their innermost secrets; rather it refers to their confidence around humans. My little Black-capped friend is becoming more confiding as he/she makes the connection between my activity and food replenishment. In fact, when the feeder ran dry in the evening, Dee-dee perched on the shepherd's-hooks directly outside the living room window and gave me the pointed eye. Obedient as always, I responded by delivering another cupful of small seed mixed with nyger, just enough for a bedtime top-off. I have not seen more than one 'dee in the tree, but I keep hoping that the confidence of one will draw others.

The Business End

Day 204: The term isn't used much in today's vocabulary, but fifty years ago, you might have heard a shovel described as an "idiot stick," which is to say it has a blade on one end and an idiot on the other. In some regions, it applied to other manual tools as well, the principle being exactly the same regardless of what the "business end" might look like. I tend to think of weed-wrenches in much the same light. You have to be a few crackers short of a barrel to volunteer for a weed-wrenching work party, and I guess I qualify as prime crumb material. I spent the morning pulling Scotch broom with a weed wrench as part of a Nisqually Land Trust restoration project at Powell Creek near Yelm. The idea is simple: you set the jaws so that the stem of the offending weed is between them, then step on the tip of the tool and pull back on the lever which closes the jaws on the stalk. Once the stalk is pinched (sometimes not as easy as it sounds), you lean on the lever using the ground as your fulcrum, and if Archimedes is smiling, the earth moves as the roots are withdrawn. That's the theory, anyway. In practice, it's never that simple. The jaws slip, the stalk breaks, leaving the roots in the ground, thereby ensuring that you'll have a job again next spring. That said, we removed a lot of the nasty stuff, but it may be days before I can stand upright again.

A Spoonful Of Spring

Day 203: I had occasion to be in downtown Puyallup yesterday, so took a swing past Watson's Nursery to pick up some bedding plants and a few things for hanging baskets. As always, I walked through their outdoor racks and was happy to discover that they'd received their stock of "Spoonflower" Osteospermums. I'd already purchased two standard Osteos, and I can't resist Spoons. They were only available in one shade of purple, but any Spoon is better than no Spoon at all. In fact, I've had the greatest success with this hue. With nighttime temperatures projected to stay in the 40s, I felt confident in putting them into their permanent home in the big pot at the end of my sidewalk. If we do get a cold snap, I'll build a bubble-wrap tent to protect them.

Concealment

Day 202: While walking around in my yard yesterday, I spotted a specimen of Misumena vatia on a dandelion, but my shadow fell across the flower as I knelt down to take a picture, startling the spider and sending it into concealment. I went out again today and on the same dandelion, saw what I presume to be the same spider, but once again, some vibration or fluctuation in the light alerted it to potential danger and it disappeared beneath the petals where it was out of sight from my eyes, but not from my lens. This species has often taken me by surprise when I've gathered ox-eye daisies (an invasive which should carry no guilt about picking) or other light-coloured flowers. It has a particular affinity for dandelions in western Washington and although its colouration is highly variable, the whitish-yellow form is arguably the most common. The pigmentation observed in any individual spider can change over the course of a few days, depending on the colour of the flower it inhabits.

No Shingles, No House

Day 201: In areas where the two species occur together, there's an easy way to remind yourself of the difference between Purple Finch and House Finch: if it doesn't have shingles, it's not a house. The breast markings on House Finch are distinct flecks, as opposed to the soft, blurry, muted pattern worn by Purple Finch. Otherwise, the two birds look pretty much the same, or as Roger Tory Peterson puts it, "like a sparrow dipped in raspberry juice." The females of both species are even more difficult to distinguish, with both being your typical "little brown job" or "LBJ" as they are lovingly known in birding circles. A trained eye can pick out narrow wing bars on a female House Finch (not as well-defined on Purple) or on Purple, a straighter culmen (dorsal ridge of the bill) than on House, but you'd better have good field glasses and hope for a quiet subject if you wish to make either of these observations.

May Day Bouquet

Day 200: Sound & Fury Morris is dancing the sun up at Gasworks Park in honour of May Day, and I will have been on the road for several hours before dawn. That won't prevent the May faeries from carrying out my instructions to leave this lovely May basket on your doorstep, though. Okay, in some cases it will arrive a little early; we must make allowances as the need arises. It would seem that the practice of leaving May baskets for friends and neighbours has all but gone by the wayside, in my opinion a sad thing for such a lovely old custom to fall from use. I have fond memories from my childhood of constructing paper baskets and filling them with pretty posies, sometimes purloined from the flowerbeds of the very neighbours who were the intended recipients of the baskets. And if no cultivated blossoms were to be had, there were always dandelions and forget-me-nots and the occasional fern to brighten someone's day with a floral consideration. It was the thought behind the remembrance: you are my neighbour and my friend. Here is a gift from a simpler time, my May basket for you.