I always marvel at the carpet of moss on the berm of the Marsh Trail on the Scully Estate. Its verdant hues are especially welcome in the muted landscape of a winter’s walk. There is something seductive about moss that makes me slow down when I see it brightening grey boulders, draping on decaying stumps or lining a shady path.
While recently working at my desk at the Scully Mansion I took a momentary break from reading about water quality issues, to turn around to gaze from the 2nd floor window to see if anything was happening outside. Well, my timing was perfect as robins were what was “happening”, big time in fact.
After spending a good part of the afternoon gardening, I enter the small bathroom on the first floor of my house to wash up. A miniscule speck of something appears on the far wall. Pavlov’s dogs were conditioned to salivate at the sound of a bell. My brain, similarly conditioned by multiple past experiences, salivates at the sight of specks on a wall.
While walking through the woods at the Scully Estate, I came upon an unusual sight. Amidst the forest of lovely white birch and black tupelo was a single birch tree smattered with large, pale mushrooms. The tilt of the tree and the lack of leaves, at this early fall time of year, indicated that the tree was dead or dying.
The species names spill off the tongue quickly – “Oh, that’s a Pink Lady’s Slipper…. or a Green Darner….or a Round-leaved Sundew or Great-crested Flycatcher. Perhaps its a Brook Trout….or Eastern Chipmunk or a Diamondback Terrapin”. These names, and hundreds of thousands of others, are the scientifically established common names for these creatures, useful because they help to establish order, definition, and identity.
You are a Monarch Butterfly. Autumn has arrived and you are crouched on a branch on Long island at the starting block of a marathon flight. Your number is on a round plastic tag attached to your wing. While your attention is to the prevailing winds and the passing cirrus clouds, you are aware of the wing that is wearing the identity tag, much like a marathon runner wears a number on his shirt. But with a few differences.