Monday, June 6, 2016

Learning #phenology

The daylilies behind the garage have developed long stems and the beginnings of buds. Blossoms in three or four weeks, perhaps? Photos from years past suggest July is the peak time locally. What's Doin' the Bloomin'? lists daylilies in the "Signs of Autumn" section; Midwest Foraging lists early July into August; and The Forager's Harvest doesn't include daylilies. What's ... Bloomin'? also notes that daylilies do not have the spots on their flowers that distinguish Tiger Lilys. That's something I hadn't known or thought of since I associate spots with leopards, not tigers.

early July daylilies
early July daylilies
Photo by J. Harrington
Identification of flora and fauna can often be challenging. Yesterday's nesting birds were finally judged to be chimney swifts. This came only after much discussion, checking of field guides and on-line photos and some inexplicable difficulty in locating "swifts" in our three volume Audubon guide. I sometimes wonder if learning nature is like acquiring language skills, easier -- by far -- when we're young than as we become older and more calcified by knowing what we already know.

Learning the Trees

By Howard Nemerov

Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn
The language of the trees. That’s done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of it
Is one of the transformations of a tree.

The words themselves are a delight to learn,
You might be in a foreign land of terms
Like samara, capsule, drupe, legume and pome,
Where bark is papery, plated, warty or smooth.

But best of all are the words that shape the leaves—
Orbicular, cordate, cleft and reniform—
And their venation—palmate and parallel—
And tips—acute, truncate, auriculate.

Sufficiently provided, you may now
Go forth to the forests and the shady streets
To see how the chaos of experience
Answers to catalogue and category.

Confusedly. The leaves of a single tree
May differ among themselves more than they do
From other species, so you have to find,
All blandly says the book, “an average leaf.”

Example, the catalpa in the book
Sprays out its leaves in whorls of three
Around the stem; the one in front of you
But rarely does, or somewhat, or almost;

Maybe it’s not catalpa? Dreadful doubt.
It may be weeks before you see an elm
Fanlike in form, a spruce that pyramids,
A sweetgum spiring up in steeple shape.

Still, pedetemtim as Lucretius says,
Little by little, you do start to learn;
And learn as well, maybe, what language does
And how it does it, cutting across the world

Not always at the joints, competing with
Experience while cooperating with
Experience, and keeping an obstinate
Intransigence, uncanny, of its own.

Think finally about the secret will
Pretending obedience to Nature, but
Invidiously distinguishing everywhere,
Dividing up the world to conquer it,

And think also how funny knowledge is:
You may succeed in learning many trees
And calling off their names as you go by,
But their comprehensive silence stays the same.

Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.