“The cultivated chicory plant has a history reaching back to ancient Egyptian time. Medieval monks raised the plants and when coffee was introduced to Europe, the Dutch thought that chicory made a lively addition to the bean drink.  In the United States chicory root has long been used as a substitute for coffee in prisons.” – Wiki

Queen Anne’s Lace (also known as wild carrot) [Daucus carota] is at its peak right now — these delicate little blooms remind me of wedding bouquets.  It appears the ants like it as well.  Queen Anne’s Lace is edible and medicinal — the root is edible cooked or raw, flower clusters can be french-fried for a carrot-flavored, attractive dish, though I’ve never tried it.

Birdsfoot trefoil (also known as birdfoot deer vetch) [Lotus corniculatus] is another of my newly claimed favourites.  I love the tiny wheels of yellow and note that it appears to be a bumper year for it.  Considered a nuisance by many, this little plant is often planted along roadsides to help prevent wind and water erosion and is a choice food for Canada goose, deer, and elk.

The apple blossoms’ shower of pearl,

Though blent with rosier hue,

As beautiful as woman’s blush,

As evanescent too.

- Letitia Elizabeth Landon

“…The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer,
Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life
Within the solemn woods…”

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.” – John Muir

“You cannot forget if you would those golden kisses all over the cheeks
of the meadow, queerly called dandelions.” - Henry Ward Beecher

This photo was taken last May 18 on farmland just a few miles from town. May 18?! That seems like an eternity away, doesn’t it? Well, it does to those of us who have endured what feels like the longest winter of our lives.

Daydreaming helps. I thought this morning that if I ever have a property with the space to support it, I would definitely plant a wildflower meadow garden. On my former property, there were 4+ acres to play with — as much or as little as wanted could have been planted this way. It is, of course, possible to plant a wildflower garden in any bed. But I’m thinking of a meadow-like space that one could amble through on breezy summer days. A place where you could lie down and watch the clouds float by. A field, awash with colour, that would sway and dance in the wind.

Such as this…

(Flickr photo by polandeze)

Or this…

(Flickr photo by kyleandkelly)

Or this…

(Flickr photo by baxterclaws)

A place to think, read, write, be…a place to dream, amid the flutter of wings.

(This post was also published at Soliloquy.)

Posted in environment, nature, photos, seasons Tagged: meadow, wildflower ]]> http://naturesgarden.wordpress.com/2009/02/12/a-wildflower-meadow/feed/ 7 nancybond dandelions wildflower-meadow wildflower-meadow2 wildflower-meadow3 http://naturesgarden.wordpress.com/2009/02/09/winters-sleep/ http://naturesgarden.wordpress.com/2009/02/09/winters-sleep/#comments Mon, 09 Feb 2009 18:35:09 +0000 nancybond http://naturesgarden.wordpress.com/?p=49 ]]> “And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come,
To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill,
The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.”
- William Cullen Bryant

Just a short post to thank those of you who have bookmarked this blog and continue to check in from time to time.  It’s been a long winter here in Nova Scotia, but Spring is just around the corner and I hope to capture her in her finest.  With more seasonable weather will come more frequent posts — until then, thanks for your continued interest!

While watering and fussing over some noncompliant petunias this morning, I discovered these tiny leaves nestled politely among a clump of lobelia. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious that this tiny plant was a maple seedling, carried to this planter by a gentle breeze and coaxed to life in the moist soil. What a treasure!

So, I planted this little guy in a pot of his own, hoping I hadn’t disturbed his tiny network of roots.

If this one tree can release this small seed to the wind so that it finds a home and thrives, imagine how many far away mountains and fertile valleys are colonized in the same way. The wind is one of Nature’s most important — and most impressive — methods of seed dispersal. Many trees, flowers, and weeds (think dandelion!) use this method successfully.

Here’s hoping this little fellow “blooms where he’s planted” and produces a tree that will, someday, start this miraculous cycle all over again.

We left the main road and pulled onto the narrow lane that takes you to Three Mile Brook. It’s one of my favorite places to spend a sunny hour. Even though the sun was getting low in the sky, I was able to capture a bit more of Nature’s first green.

Fresh-tipped spruces and white birches make a striking abstract when viewed in the barely moving stream of water.

The Common Strawberry

Pussy willows, coming to the end of their downy blooms.

The fresh green buds of the tamarack tree

A spruce seedling

Catkins of an unidentified bush grew at the water’s edge.

Sadly, there was also this. Three Mile Brook is a popular stop for anglers and there was evidence that some had even camped there. That’s an old TV in the water, believe it or not. How anyone could have such disregard for this beauty is beyond me.

However, as we backed out onto the main road again and continued toward home, this magical moment in which the water seemed to pick up every color in the spectrum, restored my faith that Nature triumphs over all. Nature’s first green is a hard hue to hold, and soon, will be replaced by lush, dark tones. But sometimes gold can stay.