Should I Be Nervous?

Day 252: You're going to have to work really hard to convince me that Fuligo septica didn't follow me home from work on my boots. For several years now, I've been watching it come and go to the base of a tree outside Tobin Resource Center, taking pictures of it when it was in its reproductive stage as it is here, walking through its line of travel. When I threw back my curtains this morning and looked out across the yard, the first words I spoke on seeing a yellow patch covering the decaying stump of the Whatzit Tree were, "Is that a slime mold?" It was not there yesterday. Slime molds, as my regular readers should know by now, are neither plant nor animal but exhibit characteristics of both. They are capable of locomotion, communication and cooperation, living most of their lives as single, disparate organisms but coming together when a food source is located, there to reproduce. Size-wise, this is an impressive specimen. Now I'm wondering: should I be nervous?

Fungus Makes The World Go 'Round

Day 91: This is a mushroom, i.e., a fungus. That's as far out on the limb as I'm going to go with respect to identifying it. I may not know its name, but what I do know is that it's doing an important job...one of many important jobs the fungal horde performs. Several years ago, I removed the diseased "Whatzit Tree" (unidentified flowering something) in my front yard, and since that time, I've been stump-grinding the remaining mound with the lawnmower until I've almost got it to the point that the blades will clear the wood without making horrible noises. Mr. Fungus is going to finish the job for me. He and his kin have taken hold and are happily sending out mycorrhizal filaments which will penetrate the remainder of the wood and break it down into nutrients. It's a slow process, but they'll get the job done. The deeper I delve into mycorrhizal relationships, the more convinced I become that fungus makes the world go 'round.

Elegance

Day 77: Oh, my...! An unexpected gift showed up in my mailbox today, one with particular personal significance. These pens were hand-turned by a dear friend from the trunk wood of an unidentified tree which had stood for more than 20 years in my front yard. When the tree was attacked first by disease, then by insects and subsequently by a determined Red-breasted Sapsucker who was trying to be helpful, I was forced to take it down. Di put in a request for a piece of the wood for her lathe, so after a period of curing and drying, I mailed it off and forgot all about it. She tells me the dark band in the center of the Celtic knotwork pen is a pine cone from her own yard. What elegance! Makes me feel like I should be writing four-figure checks!

Whatzit Tree

Day 220: Friends often hear me refer to the Whatzit Tree in my front yard, and invariably, I get the question, "Well, what is it?" In the first place, it's a Weeping Whatzit Tree, definitely an ornamental as opposed to a native species. It has to be pruned carefully to really get the best "weep," and I'm rather lax in that department. Every few years, I go out with a saw and take out the branches which stick right straight up at the sky.

"It's a Crabapple," says one friend. Um...I hate to tell you this, but it makes a fruit which resembles a Chokecherry, i.e., about the size of a pencil eraser and nothing but a single pit with a little skin wrapped around it. It's not a Chokecherry either. And to further complicate things, it's not a "flowering" variety even though it flowers prodigiously. The leaves emerge before the blossoms.

I have to admit that my area of expertise doesn't include a lot of knowledge about cultivated plants. I'm a wildflower person. I know Cedar trees and Hemlocks, and can show you the difference between a Subalpine Fir and a Noble, but I wouldn't want to be put to the test on some of our Pines. Suffice to say that the Whatzit Tree has kept me befuddled for almost twenty-five years now, but it sure is pretty.

A Little Light Reading

Day 217: I got the chain-sawing done. I got the whole lawn mowed. I got the fenceline weed-whacked, and I did it all this morning. With my yard actually looking like a yard instead of a weed farm for a change, I decided to stage a "light reading" shot under the Whatzit Tree, "stage" being the operative word in that sentence. Admittedly, the mosquitoes aren't abundant yet, but in a few weeks, you wouldn't want to sit outside without being covered in bug spray. It's the price you pay for living out here in the dingleberries.

That said, for the last several days, the weather has been unseasonably gorgeous, maybe even a little too warm for those of us who are native to the area. It feels like summer ought to feel, a time for lemonade and straw hats and breezy clothes. And nothing reads better outdoors than a field guide, although Brodo is a bit heavy on the lap.