This attractive tree goes by a few names: shadbush, shadblow, serviceberry, and Juneberry. The reference to shad stems from more ancient knowledge of recognizing patterns of nature. Many years ago shad, a species of anadromous fish, was significantly more abundant than today…
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.
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.
One of my favorite sounds of summer is the rhythmic hum of bees as they move from flower to flower. I love to watch these industrious insects as they dance on the pink florets of Joe Pye weed or dive into the hairy throat of penstemon. I marvel at the variety of buzzing visitors on blooming goldenrod and the constant taking off and landing on the face of a sunflower.
As long as I can remember, I have always been attracted to cacti. I believe I imprinted on these bizarre plants during the accumulated hours of spellbound time passed as a kid in darkened movie theaters, transfixed by the endless procession of desert-strewn cowboy-and-Indian Technicolor westerns.