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| spotted horsemint, spotted beebalm
Photo by J. Harrington
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We haven't noticed any of these plants in nearby fields, but then we haven't been looking for them. You know how that works. How did they get to our property? Birds? Deer hooves? Coyote paws? They're noted as indigenous to the county, but not particularly widespread in Minnesota. According to Bees (Heather Holm), spotted horsemint (a.k.a. spotted beebalm) attracts bumble bees, long-horned bees, metallic green sweat bees and small sweat bees. "In high quality sandy habitats, look for Perdita (mining bees)." We can vouch for the sandy habitat, the quality level is questionable.
Over the years, we've had friends who were highly allergic to bee or wasp stings. Often, they were among the most avid outdoors persons, who foraged, hunted and fished. They took precautions, including carrying an epi-pen, and enjoyed life to the fullest. Since bees, but particularly Perdita, pollenate plants we'd like more of, milkweed and other butterfly attractors, we'll watch for holes in our sandy hill that may be signs of mining bees and take reasonable precautions to avoid getting stung.
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| is there a word for spotted beebalm groupings like this?
Photo by J. Harrington
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Years ago, back in New England, we've fallen in with wild-eyed hippie permaculturists, and lived to tell the tale. We can probably do so again. We're older now but, we hope, wiser and perhaps a little less wild-eyed ourselves. This time we'll try working with nature, rather than destroying potential bee habitat as we did when we first tried to "restore" our old farm fields by plowing, discing and scattering wildflower seeds. We're seeing evidence that a less aggressive approach may take longer but we're more likely to enjoy both the process and the results. Do you suppose that might work in politics?
Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood
v
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares,
To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood
And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm
To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here
Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men
And made thee loathe thy life. The primal curse
Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth,
But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt
Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades
Are still the abodes of gladness; the thick roof
Of green and stirring branches is alive
And musical with birds, that sing and sport
In wantonness of spirit; while below
The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect,
Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade
Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam
That waked them into life. Even the green trees
Partake the deep contentment; as they bend
To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky
Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene.
Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy
Existence, than the winged plunderer
That sucks its sweets. The massy rocks themselves,
And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees
That lead from knoll to knoll a causey rude
Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots,
With all their earth upon them, twisting high,
Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet
Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o’er its bed
Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks,
Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice
In its own being. Softly tread the marge,
Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren
That dips her bill in water. The cool wind,
That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee,
Like one that loves thee nor will let thee pass
Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.
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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
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