Welcome. Atypically, I just showed enough sense to come in out of the rain. We were taking the dogs for a walk and "she who remembers these things more readily than I" was once again trying to teach me about the wildflowers blooming on our property. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The same may be true about the way to a man's brain. If it walks, flies or swims and I hunt or fish for it, my species identification is pretty good. Maybe if I started eating wildfowers? Anyhow, here's a list of some of what's presently blossoming within several hundred yards of where this is being written. Perhaps typing names and linking references will help me remember and provide you with an incentive to learn.
Speaking of learning (as we were above the list) while researching this post I learned the the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (our tax dollars at work) has an interesting and impressive web application the lists all the vascular plant in Minnesota, by county and several other factors. Well done, DNR. More research is required to find a reliable resource (or resources) for foraging purposes. Suggestions?
Finally, for today, I spent some time this morning reading a wonderful essay by Tony Hoaglund in Harper's, Twenty Little Poems That Could Save America. One of those poems focuses on a creature that is special to me. Here's the poem, I hope you enjoy it:
By Anne Carson
In the beginning there were days set aside for various tasks.
On the day He was to create justice
God got involved in making a dragonfly
and lost track of time.
It was about two inches long
with turquoise dots all down its back like Lauren Bacall.
God watched it bend its tiny wire elbows
as it set about cleaning the transparent case of its head.
The eye globes mounted on the case
rotated this way and that
as it polished every angle.
Inside the case
which was glassy black like the windows of a downtown bank
God could see the machinery humming
and He watched the hum
travel all the way down turquoise dots to the end of the tail
and breathe off as light.
Its black wings vibrated in and out.
From: “Glass, Irony and God” page 49
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