Live and learn, from literary field guides

Supposedly, Mark Twain once said: “What gets us into trouble is not what we don't know. It's what we know for sure that just ain't so.” This morning we didn't get into much trouble, but we for sure ran into a couple of those things we knew for sure that just ain't so. And it's all because of Christmas, trees, and Literary Guides to the Natural History of several places.

our well-decorated Fraser fir of Christmas past

Photo by J. Harrington

Up until several years ago, I'd never heard of a Fraser fir. The (relatively) local Christmas tree farm had some pre-cut Frasers for sale and I thought they smelled even better than the Balsams. I have a hard time with a Christmas season that lacks the smell of fir trees. We liked everything about it except the price. The next season we followed the same routine with the same results: a nicely decorated and aromatic Fraser fir in our living room. Somewhere along the line, I'd "learned" that the Fraser was a fir of the great Northwest. It's not native to Minnesota, but is grown in some tree farms.

All of the preceding caused a certain amount of startle this morning as I began doing the comparison of the Appalachian species also found in Minnesota. According to A Literary Field Guide to Southern Appalachia, the Fraser fir "was discovered in the North Carolina mountains and named in the eighteenth century by the Scottish botanist Sir John Fraser." So, I have now been disabused of my not entirely correct notion that Fraser firs were trees of the great Northwest, and have to give further consideration about whether Minnesota's cultivated Fraser firs are comparable to North Carolina's indigenous ones. For now, I'm thinking "No."

colored leaves floating on the water (St. Croix River)

Photo by J. Harrington

Later, as I was poking about the internet for fun, looking for a "Literary Field Guid to Minnesota," since the authors of the Southern Appalachia version had only mentioned their inspiration being the Sonoran Desert version, I was more than a little surprised to discover first a Great Lakes version and then, that that was one of a whole series, focused on different regions, by the same  author, Sara St. Antoine. (Sidebar observation: a local publisher, Milkweed Books, published at least two of the volumes in the series.) Of course, I'm now going to start pondering whether or how literary field guides fit into a bioregional hypothesis as well as how much overlap there may be between bioregions and foodsheds. No matter how much we may know, or think we do, there's always more to learn and, often, corrections to be made.

Field Guide

By Cynthia Zarin

The stars are pinned between the leaves   

of the trees, and love is only a harbinger,   

a regular Boy Scout handbook

of things not to do, and how to do other things,   

small chores you’d never think of,   

and supper gets cold on the table.   

But I can’t leave here without

taking you with me.

And the formal customs we once had,   

like wearing red during hunting season,   

are only signposts pointing the way   

in and out of the territories—

colored leaves floating on the water,   

hesitant, before the rains come.

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