Monday, September 29, 2025
Flower for the Day Carolina elephant's foot 9-28-25
Thursday, September 25, 2025
Flower for the Day Sharpwing Monkeyflower 9-25-25
It has a two-lipped corolla and the arrangement of the upper and lower lip petals suggests a monkey's face. The winged stems together with the monkey face give the plant its common name. The flowers are bisexual and bilaterally symmetrical.
Of all the streets that blur in to the sunset,
There must be one (which, I am not sure)
That I by now have walked for the last time
Without guessing it, the pawn of that Someone
Who fixes in advance omnipotent laws,
Sets up a secret and unwavering scale
for all the shadows, dreams, and forms
Woven into the texture of this life.
If there is a limit to all things and a measure
And a last time and nothing more and forgetfulness,
Who will tell us to whom in this house
We without knowing it have said farewell?
Through the dawning window night withdraws
And among the stacked books which throw
Irregular shadows on the dim table,
There must be one which I will never read.
There is in the South more than one worn gate,
With its cement urns and planted cactus,
Which is already forbidden to my entry,
Inaccessible, as in a lithograph.
There is a door you have closed forever
And some mirror is expecting you in vain;
To you the crossroads seem wide open,
Yet watching you, four-faced, is a Janus.
There is among all your memories one
Which has now been lost beyond recall.
You will not be seen going down to that fountain
Neither by white sun nor by yellow moon.
You will never recapture what the Persian
Said in his language woven with birds and roses,
When, in the sunset, before the light disperses,
You wish to give words to unforgettable things.
And the steadily flowing Rhone and the lake,
All that vast yesterday over which today I bend?
They will be as lost as Carthage,
Scourged by the Romans with fire and salt.
At dawn I seem to hear the turbulent
Murmur of crowds milling and fading away;
They are all I have been loved by, forgotten by;
Space, time, and Borges now are leaving me.
Jorge Luis Borges
Wednesday, September 24, 2025
Flower for the Day Blue Cardinal Flower 9-24-25
The plant produces a spike of flowers in the late summer. The flowers are more closely clustered towards the top of the spike and become more infrequent further down and the lower flowers begin blooming first. The flowers are two-lipped and tubular, each with five lobes. The upper two lobes are erect and the lower three lobes are be fanned out. Flowering is often abundant and the flower color intense.
Although self compatible lobelia is unable to offer pollen to itself and it must be pollinated by insects, primarily bumblebees of which we have many. Bees use the lower three fused petals as a landing pad. A bee of correct weight will depress these petals on its way to the flower's nectar, this lowers the stigma wiping it against the bee's back. The stigma forms the distal portion of the style and is composed of stigmatic papillae, the cells of which are receptive to pollen.
Lobelia was once considered a cure for syphilis from which came the species name.
Tuesday, September 23, 2025
Don's Blog What's in a picture? 9-23-25
Monday, September 22, 2025
Don's Blog "The One Where We Have A Wedding" 9-20-25
Wednesday, September 17, 2025
Flower for the Day Bearded Beggartick 9-17-25
Friday, September 12, 2025
Flower for the Day Dahlia I 9-12-25
With the cooling of the weather dahlias have begun to bloom. We have planted more this year andare hoping for a bounty. Dahlias are tuberous, herbaceous perennials and are native to Mexico and Central America.They are members of the aster family. I love them for the richness of their multiple shapes and color.Dahlias were known only to the Aztecs and other southern North American peoples until the Spanish Conquest after which the plants were brought to Europe. Like most plants that do not attract pollinating insects through scent, they are brightly colored, displaying most hues, with the exception of blue.The Dahlias
By now the fields are overgrown,
most ironweed and parsnip have turned black,
even the closed cabinet doors of milkweed pods
have burst open, spilling their shucked silk
into the day. I wear a coat
and remember August, those nights
filled with moths that like fireworks
put on a show at our window,
circled the lights like monks in meditation.
At every new cycle, I miss the one
now gone. I am never happy and have
no excuse not to love the dying
season, the growing season, the season of sleep.
That is to say, to love it while it is
happening. But what of the fall dahlias
that like bodiced planets float above
their roots and leaves? Surely they contain all
the colors of our universe. They must love
the cooler days, the beginning
of a time for rest, less forced display.
Take it easy I will say. But the wind
has something else in mind.
They might perform a roundelay
or the danse macabre. In time
we all will be bones, our eyeholes hallowed
and our skeletons clattering like chimes.Didi Jackson
Monday, September 8, 2025
Flower for the Day Ageratum 9-3-25
The startled quail in covies whir
From 'neath your feet as on you stray
Along the narrow thread-like path,
This cool October day.
The grouse's booming drum of bass
Peals from the hollow on your right,
Till 'larumed by your near approach
He wheels in sudden flight.
And on the trunk of yon dead tree
The "flicker" beats his fierce tattoo,
Then hurls back from his wave-like flight
Defiance shrill to you.
On every side the golden rod's
Long, graceful plumes of tawny gold
And ageratum's purple bloom --
The banners of the wold.
The stubble of the June-reaped wheat
Stands up in bristling ranks of spears,
Its gold is covered now with frost,
Like warriors grey with years.
And over all the golden haze
Soft wraps the brown Earth in a dream,
While every breath across the fields
Rich draughts of rare wines seem.
There in the stream beneath the elms,
The leaves, like ships of Lil'put, fair,
Drift down, sans rudders and sans sails
To ports that lie nowhere.
See in the field beyond the stream,
Pitched wide o'er all the bottom land,
An Indian village quaintly shown,
The cornshock wigwams stand.
Now, you are "near to nature's heart,"
You lie upon her tawny breast;
You feel her warm breath on your cheek
As in her arms you rest.
Friday, September 5, 2025
Flower for the Day 9-5-25 Odds and Ends
The Fungus, the Fruit, and the Apex Predator
The mushroom is not the fungus, the mushroom
is the fruit. And when the wolves
came back, it was like they put a hat
on empty space and the rest
of the person reassembled piece
by piece underneath—
beavers, aspen, beetles,
wolverines, lynx. As children we feel
everything: seam of a sock,
a tag. We practice dullness, practice
adapting stupidly.
So let the apex predator of us
reenter, snarling, let it tear the throat out
of whatever's stealing our repose,
let it leave that thing out
half-eaten, a snack
for us to share with our friends
before we go home to our regenerated
habitats. I guess what I'm saying is,
eat the rich. I guess what I'm saying is,
chase villains into the sea. I guess
what I'm saying is, wouldn't it be great
to figure out which wolf we needed, which wolf
was missing, which wolf was hunted down
too soon by ignorant park rangers and which
wolf whose return, like a furry, murderous,
plural Messiah, would save us?
Thursday, September 4, 2025
Flower for the Day Globe Amaranth 9-4-25
Ah, in the night, all music haunts me here. . . .
Is it for naught high Heaven cracks and yawns And the tremendous Amaranth descends Sweet with the glory of ten thousand dawns? Does it not mean my God would have me say: — "Whether you will or no, O city young, Heaven will bloom like one great flower for you, Flash and loom greatly all your marts among?" Friends, I will not cease hoping though you weep. Such things I see, and some of them shall come Though now our streets are harsh and ashen-gray, Though our strong youths are strident now, or dumb. Friends, that sweet town, that wonder-town, shall rise. Naught can delay it. Though it may not be Just as I dream, it comes at last I know With streets like channels of an incense-sea.
