My Mystery Plant

Day 36: You've undoubtedly heard some variant of the phrase, "The cobbler's children have no shoes," which suggests that although a person is in a particular trade, neither they nor those closest to them benefit from it. Perhaps that explains why it has taken me thirty years to identify a plant growing at the edge of my yard, up against the brushy section which forms a boundary with the adjacent undeveloped property. Said shrubby growth regularly gets grazed by the lawnmower, but never fails to produce small leathery foliage which turns a lovely shade of red in the fall, as well as a modest display of round red berries. If I had given it more than a moment's thought, I would have realized it was a Cotoneaster (horizontalis, I believe) without having to search the internet. Here rises to the surface another of the Scottish/British pronunciations instilled in me in childhood. This is not a "cotton Easter" (presumed kin of the Velveteen Rabbit); it is a "cut-OH-nee-as-ter" (although certainly not related to any member of the Compositaceae). Appropriately, there are lichens nearby (a word which I insist rhymes with "kitchen," not the action implied by a thumbs-up symbol).