Category Archives: Flora

Spring 2019

Although it has been 74 days since I lasted posted an article, I have not  been hibernating. It was more like being in a fitful sleep full of bad dreams: children in cages, floods in the countryside,  the demise of civil discourse, and lies, lies, lies. That’s in the night and also when I compulsively check the latest news throughout the day. Otherwise, Tom and I take lots of walks.

A Good Sign Every day for the last four days I have caught myself sounding like my mother.  When she was happily focused on a task, my mother sometimes vocalized a low, mostly tuneless, hum.  It seemed to be the sound of contentment. I have been humming as I work around the condo and as I pull up invasive weeds in the nearby parks.

Spring has come to the Washington, DC area.  Everywhere I walk, I see extravagant and exuberant beauty. I see the beauty not only in the flowers, but also in the commuters, the joggers, the protesters, the school groups, and other visitors to the capital city.

I try to look at the glass as half full. Some days and weeks–especially in our current social and political climate–that is difficult for me. Thinking about my mother and walking through the springtime helps restore my optimism. Below are some photos from recent walks. Happy Spring.

purple pansies

Spring, U.S. Botanic Gardens

Four Mile Run, Arlington, Virginia

REDress Project, National Museum of the American Indian*

hillside, Belvedere Park, Arlington, Virginia

pink tulips

American hollies, Rosslyn

early azaelas

Mary Livingston Ripley Garden

hellebore, Mary Livingston Ripley Garden

redbud, U.S. Botanic Garden

Smithsonian Arts and Industries Building

dwarf fothergilla

tulips and a dandelion

Virginia Bluebells, U.S. Botanic Garden

in the neighborhood

  • You can find more information about the REDress Project here.

 

 

 

Winter 2019: Polar Vortex

Right now here in Arlington, VA, Accuweather claims it is 34 degrees (feeling like 22)  with maybe some flurries in a bit. It’s windy, too and I don’t think I will make it outside today.  Still, that’s nothing like the Polar Vortex millions are experiencing in the Midwest and Great Lakes states.

I am thinking of my dear ones in Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio, and Pennsylvania. I wish I could make them soup and bread and send them flowers. Please stay warm and safe.

Soup I have loved making soup ever since I learned to make my mother’s vegetable beef soup many decades ago. Then came the back-of-the-bag split pea soup, Julia Child’s French onion soup (back when I could get cheap beef bones for stock), chicken noodle soup with homemade noodles, spicy lentil soup, and many more. One of our favorite soups is Diana Kennedy’s recipe for sopa de albondigas (meatball soup). This recipe comes from Kennedy’s The Art of Mexican Cooking: Traditional Mexican Cooking for Aficionados (Bantam Books, 1989). This soup is fragrant, flavorful, and somehow light and hearty at the same time. I looked online and saw several adaptations of this recipe. I prefer the original recipe for the directions on making the soup broth, but I  think the online recipes should also be okay. Bon appetit.

sopa de albondigas (Mexican Meatball Soup)

sopa de albondigas (Mexican Meatball Soup)

The Art of Mexican Cooking

The Art of Mexican Cooking

Bread I have always loved making bread. I think bread making was part of my brief attempt to be an earth mother. I never really fit that description, but I have made dozens of kinds of bread. Earth mother style, I guess, because I never use the stand mixer or a bread machine. I like to knead by hand. Many loaves have been successful, some have not.  My current favorite bread recipe is entire whole wheat bread from the 1984 edition of The Fannie Farmer Baking Book by (the nonpareil baker) Marion Cunningham. This bread takes some time, but, if one follows the directions, the bread is delicious and cuts well.  Again, except in a used book store, I think it might be a challenge to find this vintage recipe, However, there are many similar Fannie Farmer wheat bread recipes online. Note: I made this bread a couple of hours ago. I am promising myself a piece of toast and butter when I finish this post!

whole wheat bread

whole wheat bread

Fannie Farmer Baking Book

Fannie Farmer Baking Book

Flowers The flurries have started outside. With all the wind, the snow is flying almost horizontally: a tiny taste of what those in the northland are experiencing.  The flowers below are to remind you of the spring and summer to come. Love, Lynda

water lily, Scenic Lake, Michigan

water lily, Scenic Lake, Michigan

butterfly with black-eyed and verbena bonariensis

butterfly with black-eyed and verbena bonariensis

coleus and ivy-leaved geranium

coleus and ivy-leaved geranium

Pontederia cordata (pickerelweed)

Pontederia cordata (pickerelweed)

tulips near the Netherlands Carillon

tulips near the Netherlands Carillon

butterfly and coneflowers

butterfly and coneflowers

Autumn in Washington, DC

All day I have enjoyed watching the rain, sleet, and snow through my living room window.  I love such weather–if now more on paper than by actually venturing outside in it.  Today mostly, though, I have been thinking of flowers, trees, and the other parts of nature that give me solace.

It has been a challenging fall here in the capital area, and in many other places.  Flowers for family and friends, for the Carolinas, for Pittsburgh, for California, for the separated parents and children, for Bears Ears, for the sick, the hungry, and the lonely.  As a secular humanist agnostic, I don’t exactly pray, but I do remain hopeful (mostly).  I send good vibes. I mutter or whisper or chant: May you be well, may you be happy, may you have peace.  At least, here are some flowers:

"Plum Perfect" floridbunda, Kathrine Dulin Folger Rose Garden

“Plum Perfect” floridbunda, Kathrine Dulin Folger Rose Garden

bumblebee, Mary Livingston Ripley Garden

bumblebee, Mary Livingston Ripley Garden

giant American elm near the National Museum of Natural Histor

giant American elm near the National Museum of Natural History

crepe myrtle, Gotelli Collection, National Arboretum

crepe myrtle, Gotelli Collection, National Arboretum

sweetgum leaves, Gotelli Collection, National Arboretum

sweetgum leaves, Gotelli Collection, National Arboretum

rose in front of Arts and Industries

garden, National Gallery of Art

garden, National Gallery of Art

 

toad lily, Mary Livingston Ripley Garden

toad lily, Mary Liivingston Ripley Garden

woodpecker, Mary Livingston Ripley Garden

woodpecker, Mary Livingston Ripley Garden

glade, National Arboretum

glade, National Arboretum

Gotelli Collection, National Aroretum

Gotelli Collection, National Aroretum

 

 

morning, Gotelli Collection, National Arboretum

Traveling On

Tom and I like to go on road trips. We are on a road trip now. In the 25 days since we began this journey we have:

  • stopped in Pittsburgh to see our son Robert (Rebekah was working). Note: We saw Billy and Sarah and Mike before we started out. We just wanted to tell our children, “we love you.”
  • visited my dear brothers and sisters-in-law (in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Michigan).
  • camped above the Straits of Mackinac and took the ferry to Mackinac Island.
  • smelled forest fire smoke through Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Idaho, and Utah.
  • visited the Ingalls Homestead in DeSmet, S.D. (Little House aficionados: we camped by the slough)
  • we took an “easy” 3.4 mile hike at Wind Cave National Park and discovered that all of our city walking really wasn’t the same as hiking a rocky track on a warm, sunny afternoon.
  • we listened to an Oglala Lakota NPS ranger from Wounded Knee tell us a strong story about the importance of naming. From now on, for us,  Devils Tower is Bear Lodge.

Note: I have many more items for this bulleted list, but I will continue it another time soon.

We are old now, but Tom and I like to keep traveling on. Now, the early mornings are cold (unless we are staying in a motel). We don’t even light the camp stove. We drink our coffee cold.

We keep traveling on because we want to see the country and family and friends along the way–while we are still on this side of the great divide. We want to keep learning. We see, listen, touch, and smell the beauty all around us.

Here are a few photos:

catbird in catalpa, Cuyahoga Valley National Park

catbird in catalpa, Cuyahoga Valley National Park

flower (?), St. Ignace, Michigan

flower (?), St. Ignace, Michigan

monarch, Mackinac Island

monarch, Mackinac Island

Lake Gogebic State Park, Michigan

Lake Gogebic State Park, Michigan

playing music, Ingalls Homestead, DeSmet, South Dakota

playing music, Ingalls Homestead, DeSmet, South Dakota

Devils Tower, AKA Bear Lodge, Wyoming

Devils Tower, AKA Bear Lodge, Wyoming

chokecherry, Sinks Canyon State Park, Wyoming

chokecherry, Sinks Canyon State Park, Wyoming

near South Pass, Wyoming

near South Pass, Wyoming

Bear Lake State Park, Idaho

Bear Lake State Park, Idaho

 

Vision Quest

For almost two months I have had an idea for what (I had hoped) would be a clever post.  In the  end of April, I bought a new pair of binoculars for bird-watching. These new binoculars promise to help my old eyes better spot the lovely birds that still remain among us.

Diamondback binoculars

Diamondback binoculars

Right away, I began to think of the other binoculars I’ve had.  About 18 years ago, Tom and I bought binoculars for our son, Billy, to take to the Amazon. I think they got wet there, but I am not sure. Note: Bill just told me that it was the camera he dropped in the water, not the binoculars.  In any event, those binoculars don’t work well.

Nikon binoculars

Nikon binoculars

Then, I began to think about my first pair of binoculars. I can’t find them to show you.  I may have finally recycled them. I haven’t used them in decades.  However, I brought those binoculars (Tasco, I believe) along wherever we went because my Dad had given them to me. Dad gave them to me for either Christmas 1970 or 1971, after I had begun my adventures on the Colorado Plateau. I remember trying out the binoculars on a hike with my Dad at Kensington Metropark near my home. The binoculars worked well and Dad and I had a fine walk and talk.

My idea was to write about double vision: seeing the world as it is here now; seeing the world as it was in my lucky childhood.

I can’t seem to write about my childhood as clearly as I want to.  I want to tell you about

  • the spyglass my Dad kept on the living room table.  I felt like a pirate when I used it to spy a great blue heron;
  • trilliums in the yard back when we still saw deer tracks by the shore;
  • moonlight on the water–night after night and year after year. I don’t have the words to share this vision;
  • the early morning fog out my window as I dressed for school, and so much more.

When I see photos of so many children and parents in pain because of the Trumpian practice of separating families at our southern border, I can hardly write about my childhood. When I look backward, I see my happy childhood with my mother and father there to care for my brothers and me.  I want all families to be safe.  That’s only a vision, I know, but I am not the only one.

Maybe I can only see the present clearly right now.  Below, are some photos I took yesterday on the Summer Solstice at the United States Botanic Garden in Washington D.C.

See you later, I hope.

bee on Stokesia laevis (Stokes' aster)

bee on Stokesia laevis (Stokes’ aster)

 

Cephalanthus occidentalis (common buttonbush)

Cephalanthus occidentalis (common buttonbush)

Cercis canadensis (redbud)

Cercis canadensis (redbud)

Asclepias tuberosa (butterfly weed)

Asclepias tuberosa (butterfly weed)

Hypericum (St. John's wort)

Hypericum (St. John’s wort)

Pontederia cordata (pickerelweed)

Pontederia cordata (pickerelweed)

 

 

 

March 2018: Washington, D.C.

Happy spring!

daffodil

daffodil

gulls, people, and Potomac River

gulls, people, and Potomac River

Potomac, Key Bridge, and Rosslyn

Potomac, Key Bridge, and Rosslyn

clivia, National Gallery

clivia, National Gallery

forget-me-nots (?) Rosslyn

creeping speedwell (?), Rosslyn

arms are for hugging

arms are for hugging

March for Our Lives, Mach 24, 2018

March for Our Lives, March 24, 2018

cherry bark, Tidal Basin

cherry bark,Tidal Basin

blossoms from the bole

blossoms from the bole

magnolia blossom and sedum

magnolia blossom and sedum

reflection, Tidal Basin

reflection, Tidal Basin

Tidal Basin

Tidal Basin

Enid Haupt Garden, March 24, 2018

Enid Haupt Garden, March 24, 2018

Statue of Sakakawea, U.S. Congress

Statue of Sakakawea, U.S. Congress

view eastward, U.S. Congress

view eastward, U.S. Congress

Lincoln Memorial

Lincoln Memorial

Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial

Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial

daffodils near Arlington National Cemetery

daffodils near Arlington National Cemetery

Excuses, Spring is Coming, and One More Staircase Story

day planners old and new

day planners old and new

Excuses Although it is March, I still haven’t transferred all of my phone numbers, passwords, and other data from my 2017 Audubon Birder’s Engagement Calendar to my 2018  Audubon Birder’s Engagement Calendar. This transfer usually happens early in January (see Old Year, New Year: Flexibility, Part 3). Part of the delay may simply be that there is so much minutia scrawled in the 2017 book that I am daunted by the task of transferring it to the new book.

I think the real reason might be more fundamental, though. I have been sitting here — each day at once agitated and inert–waiting to see what happens next to our country. My own version of Potomac fever, I am afraid. And I am afraid: I used to tell my children that our country had had difficult times before and had gotten through it. Now, I believe the current regime and its attendant problems are by far the worst in my lifetime.  I went to one march so far this year and will soon go to another. I sign petitions. I walk. I do my weights and stretches, and sometimes I even do my planks.  I photograph flowers and trees.  On TV, I watch cooking shows and basketball games. I think spring is coming. I believe my hibernation is ending and my hope is growing.

oak leaves and crocus

oak leaves and crocus

scilla, Mary L. Ripley Garden

scilla, Mary L. Ripley Garden

Happy Interlude  In early February, Tom and I camped for three nights in the Big Cypress National Preserve and for one night in Everglades National Park. We saw alligators and manatees; anhingas and egrets, mangrove islands and dolphins, and much more.

gulf fritillary, Big Cypress National Preserve

gulf fritillary, Big Cypress National Preserve

great blue heron, Shark Valley, Everglades National Park

great blue heron, Shark Valley, Everglades National Park

Spring is Coming Wood frogs are mating in vernal pools here in Arlington, Virginia. Salamanders are on the move. Daffodils are blooming and so is the witch hazel and some forsythia. Almost two weeks ago a cherry  tree was blossoming at Arlington National Cemetery. Tourist groups are massing on the National Mall. I think it is time to put aside my 2017 almanac and rejoin this year, this fight, and this life.

sign, Gulf Branch Nature Center, Arlington, Virginia

sign, Gulf Branch Nature Center, Arlington, Virginia

witch hazel, Mary L. Ripley Garden

witch hazel, Mary L. Ripley Garden

early cherry blossoms, Arlington National Cemetery

early cherry blossoms, Arlington National Cemetery


Staircase to Heaven, again

1972–1973 (North Rim and environs)

Did I ever tell you about the time I got dropped off at Pipe Springs National Monument? I was on my way from the North Rim to my friend Anita’s wedding reception in Salt Lake City. Someone drove me to Pipe Springs–on the Arizona Strip–87 miles from the Grand Canyon Lodge where I worked.  I tried to hitch a ride from Pipe Springs to Cedar City, Utah so I could catch a plane to Salt Lake.  At least back then, Arizona State Road 389 was not a well traveled road.

After some time, Pipe Springs National Monument closed for the day. It got dark and I felt forlorn and probably a little scared.  I settled down in the ditch beside the road. I wasn’t about to take my chances standing on the side of the road through the night. I worried some and I slept some.  Morning came, someone picked me up, and I made my flight to Salt Lake and the wedding reception.  I was an idiot back then, no doubt, but all that expansive sky, sand, canyons, and forests made me feel that all was possible, all was good, and I would not be harmed.

Angry and sad aside: Most of my life now, this Grand Staircase, this Colorado Plateau, has been for me not only the land of the beautiful, but also of the good and hospitable. I want to scream and cry and kick and yes, hate, as I see people and entities want to destroy this land. I don’t do those things: I am still trying for the beautiful and good.

So many more stories to tell, but I think I am finished for now.  I wanted to tell you about Hop Valley, the double rainbows on the snowy road to Bryce, pine nut gathering at Cape Royal, the smell of the ponderosas in the sunlight, and Chesler Park in late winter.

Now, I will march, I will sign petitions, I will walk.  In the end of summer, we may be at North Rim again, and, in November I will vote.

Thank you for listening.

Here are some photos:

aspens, La Sal Mountains

near Chesler Park, The Needles, Canyonlands National Park

near Chesler Park, The Needles, Canyonlands National Park

In the Needles District, Canyonlands National Park

In the Needles District, Canyonlands National Park

clouds, Natural Bridges National Monument

clouds, Natural Bridges National Monument

our camper in Capitol Reef National Park

our camper in Capitol Reef National Park

ponderosas on the North Rim

ponderosas on the North Rim