Let me introduce you to ...

I've seen several reports today about Michelle Obama's speech last night. Among other things, she implored us to vote for Biden / Harris. If I'm tracking things correctly, that would make Democrats, Independents and Republicans for Biden / Harris the Implorables and all other voters, such as the MAGAts that vote for tRUMP, the Deplorables. That works for me. Now, to more immediately pertinent things.

Once upon a time I believed, incorrectly, that a listing of the plants found in each of Minnesota's counties would be a fairly static list. Silly me. For Chisago County, the 2015 list of plants from the Department of Natural Resources web page, Species Lists and County Maps, included 865 species, of which 74 were listed as introduced. This morning's version of the list, from the same source, lists 903 species, of which  82 are identified as introduced. So, the plant population of this county has increased by almost 40 species in five years, but only 20% of that increase is listed as introduced. I think it's time to go play Dylan's "Ballad of a Thin Man," with its wonderful and appropriate for these days refrain:

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

A quick glance at the two versions I've downloaded demonstrates that, in 2015, balsam fir was not listed in Chisago County, but it is included in today's listing and was added prior to the version I downloaded last year. What triggered the addition? Did balsam firs move south? Did someone "discover" balsam fir in the county in the past five years or so? The instructions MnDNR provides don't offer any real explanations.

stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus)

Photo by J. Harrington

All of this has been prompted by my efforts today to identify a sunflower growing in our fields. According to Minnesota Wildflowers, there are nine species of sunflowers (not including Jerusalem artichoke) of which only six are native to Chisago County. (To my dismay, I also stumbled onto the fact that there are about a dozen species of goldenrod.) The sunflower in our field is a stiff sunflower. [photo above]

If anyone has an explanation about how the taxa of Minnesota vascular plants by county keeps growing by more than the introduced species, please leave it in the comments. Thanks!

Daisies

by Mary Oliver

It is possible, I suppose that sometime
we will learn everything
there is to learn: what the world is, for example,
and what it means. I think this as I am crossing
from one field to another, in summer, and the
mockingbird is mocking me, as one who either
knows enough already or knows enough to be
perfectly content not knowing. Song being born
of quest he knows this: he must turn silent
were he suddenly assaulted with answers. Instead
oh hear his wild, caustic, tender warbling ceaselessly
unanswered. At my feet the white-petalled daisies display
the small suns of their center piece, their - if you don't
mind my saying so - their hearts. Of course
I could be wrong, perhaps their hearts are pale and
narrow and hidden in the roots. What do I know?
But this: it is heaven itself to take what is given,
to see what is plain; what the sun lights up willingly;
for example - I think this
as I reach down, not to pick but merely to touch -
the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the
daisies for the field.

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

This Summer Day #phenology

I checked in my copy of the Minnesota Weatherguide Engagement Calendar this morning. Sunrise is now about forty-five minutes later than it was on the Summer solstice. Sunset has shrunk by about the same amount. We're now enjoying an hour and a half less daylight than we did about eight weeks ago.

butterfly and bee nectaring

Photo by J. Harrington

We have lots of goldenrod in bloom around the "wet spot" in the back yard. The swamp milkweed is attracting butterflies and bees. Today's temperatures and humidity have dropped enough that it's a pleasure to have windows and doors open around the house to let a very pleasant breeze waft through. In response to the lower humidity and temps, I'm beginning to show a few indications of ambition but nothing serious enough  to warrant concern.

I have no idea what species they were, but today, while doing some outdoor chores, I noticed two different dragonflies in the back yard. There are several dozen possibilities for this time of Summer, according to the cheatsheet I created from Kurt Mead's Dragonflies of the North Woods, but it's been awhile since I've noticed any dragonflies flying about. Maybe I need to pay more attention and spend more time outside.

spotted horsemint

Photo by J. Harrington

The first tumbling seed heads from the purple love grass started bouncing across the fields today. Or, today was the first time I saw any pretending to be tumbleweeds. Late afternoon sun has the grass stems glowing pinkish-purple. If it was growing closer to the spotted horsemint's green-tinted white leaves, the combination would be spectacular.

Earlier today it dawned on me that, as I've written these posts over the years, I've identified quite a few different plants that are growing on our property, but haven't tried to list them all in one place. That probably means I know more than I know I know. I'm going to start a consolidated listing as a way to focus on what I've learned rather than how much there still is to discover. I suspect that will let me feel at least a little better about the state of my own little world. It has more biodiversity than I've acknowledged.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

—Mary Oliver

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