Friday, May 14, 2010
My Sister Will Like Some (Not All) of These Little Things
Sarah helped me find the remains of a little, abandoned herb garden behind an empty building in town that used to house a restaurant. (Everyone in town will know from this description just where the garden remnant is.) You know how dogs are. She was lolly-gagging around, discriminating carefully between one spot of ground and another, as if she were building a house instead of merely taking a pee, and suddenly I smelled mint. Looked and saw it. Looked some more and saw chives. Looked some more, rubbed a leaf--lemon balm. What a nice surprise!
Later in the day, when we took another break and went out to one of Sarah's favorite places to run, I was not thrilled at all to see tentworms.
If you want to know more about them, this is one of the best sites I found. I took the hose to our little plum tree a couple of weeks ago to get rid of the tentworm webs there. But this time, on municipal ground, I took a closer look. Everything is fascinating when you look closer. I look at these bits of life and remind myself that from Nature's point of view, they are as valuable as anything else. We don't want them around, but they're just trying to make a living according to the kind of beings they are.
It's easier for me to be charmed and entranced by mosses and fungi and lichens. Who could fail to love British soldiers? I can resist a man in uniform easily, but not these little guys.
And then the rainbow of life on an old, punky, rain-soaked branch fallen from one of our basswood trees:
My question is, which comes first, the fungus or the weak punkiness of the wood? Does one bring on the other?