Monday, June 20, 2016

Summer Solstice, Full Strawberry Moon #phenology

It's been 70 years since we last had the magical occurrence we have today. I'm not sayin' whether I was around that time, but, if I was, I don't remember noticing it.

We're now into full-on Summer, thunderstorms, hail, tornadoes et. al. We've been lucky so far and missed severe weather outbreaks that have hit elsewhere in Minnesota and western Wisconsin. Last night's rain simply refreshed the driveway puddle and left "rainrows" of male pine cones along the drive's edges.

daylillies, first blooms 2016
daylillies, first blooms 2016
Photo by J. Harrington

Yesterday, or maybe Saturday, the first daylillies of the year came into bloom in the warmer, sheltered el behind the garage. I'm taking that as another sign of Summer, although I haven't yet noticed any signs of flowers on the milkweed plants spread throughout our "gone to weed" fields. Speaking of which, we seem to have acquired a "new" weed (see below) that, like the milkweed, hasn't yet developed flowers. I don't recall seeing these before and I'm anxious to learn who's moved into the neighborhood. If you recognize what seems to be shaping up as the "Hulk" of weeds, please comment.

unidentified "weed" -- common mullein(?)
unidentified "weed" -- common mullein(?)
Photo by J. Harrington

On the brighter side, the patch(es) of wild strawberries in front of the house are getting some help from the Daughter Person and the Son-In-Law who thinned out a clump of daylillies doing their best to shade those strawberries into submission. I think they already ate a handful or two, helping to confirm why June's full moon is the Strawberry moon.


By Margaret Noodin

She makes strawberry jam

ginagawinad wiishko’aanimad, waaseyaagami
mixing sweet wind and shining water

miinawaa gipagaa nibwaakaa,
with thick wisdom

bigishkada’ad, dibaabiiginad
pounding, measuring

gakina gaa zhawenimangidwa
everything we’ve cared for

gakina gaa waniangidwa
everything we’ve lost

nagamowinan waa nagamoyaang
the songs we have not yet sung

miigwanag waa wawezhi’angidwa
the feathers yet to decorate

and all the ways we’ve smiled

mooshkine moodayaabikoong
into jars filled to the brim

ji-baakaakonid pii bakadeyaang.
to be opened when we are thin.

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