The world has the gentle green blush of spring, edged with the lacy structure of still seen branches. Blue skies and small white clouds. The grasses seem to grow inches a day, the blossoms frantically popping out and disappearing just as fast. The hepatica can still be found on northern slopes, wood and rue anemone tucked into the leaves. Violets peek out from the forest floor, Downy Yellow, Dog, Common Blue. Soon the Marsh and Small Whites will join them. The ferns are just unfurling.
The eagles nest is fast disappearing into the new leaves. I watched one of the eagles, perched on the edge of the nest, tossed about by vigorous winds the other day. I wondered if the chicks (presuming they have hatched) get seasick? Ducks and geese are nesting along the river and the larger ponds. The warblers are on their way, along with the orioles and hummingbirds.
In my wandering I found my way to the furthest south boundaries. Wetlands and marshy areas dot the east end, then the rolling hills of pasture land, followed by the steep plummet to the river valley. Out in the deep grasses of the flood plain, I followed deer trails that pushed through the willows on their way to the river. I was able to stand on the river banks where it leaves Camphill Land. Watching it flow but I was caught in the idea that it flows from here to the Gulf Of Mexico. If I set off in a canoe, I could wind my way all the way to New Orleans. I turned and went back the way I had come, content for now to be here. Rewarded for my being in the moment I found new to me plants among the willows and grasses. A Packera species, yet to be determined. The beginnings of pedicularis or Swamp Lousewort, another one not reported in Todd County, but all around it. This adventure I am on has lead me to discovering several County Records, really just a footnote in history for some future bored botanist to take note of.
A deep appreciation of the opportunity to wander these lands is in my heart these days of confinement and solitude. I will be sharing my newest finds on the wall of the shed again soon, so you can benefit from the knowledge in your own walks.
Photo Ann Luloff. The fiddleheads of Lady Fern
