Wooly Pine Scale

Snow? No. (It's Alabama in July.)

A heron's been sitting overhead? No. (Above us only sky.)

The strange white goop on this small Loblolly Pine (Pinus taeda) turned out to be Woolly Pine Scale (Pseudophilippia quaintancii).

According to ACES (Alabama Cooperative Extension System), small periodic infestations are not harmful to unstressed trees.

Of course due to a late spring freeze and the recent early summer drought, pretty much everything in north Alabama is stressed.

-----

Pine Needle Scale (Chionaspis pinifoliae) is another scale insect that looks like white gunk on pine needles.

Lions, Lambs, and White Flowers

Between cool snaps and dark windy days, there are a few warm, sunny, glorious hours. Spring is sneaking in.

We've seen a few swallows, a bat, and lots of mosquitoes and gnats. (I've had two itchy bites already.)

It's not really planting time yet though. At the gardening conference, I tried tying my hands behind my back to keep me from buying any plants so early.

But they had Sun Golds. Last year after reading a book about a New York couple's adventures in market gardening, I looked everywhere for Sun Golds, the cherry tomato that they had praised to the heavens. No joy. I could find the seeds, but they need to be started indoors and there's just no room.

So when a vendor at the conference had Sun Golds, I had to get them. And then I figured I might as well get a few other things as well.

While the tomatoes are in an aggravating "outside during the day - make sure they're out of doggie reach - remember to bring them in at night" arrangement, the lettuce and broccoli could go in the ground right away.

Which of course was a powerful signal to mother nature, to unleash a hail storm and days upon days of rain.

I took these pictures last weekend, before all the bad weather came to town. If sound were an option, in the background you'd hear a husband and a dog begging me to hurry up and quit taking so long.


Bloodroot. One of my favorite spring wildflowers. Even the latin name has blood in it: Sanguinaria canadensis. It looks dainty, but it must be tough if it has the name "Canada" in it and can live in Alabama too.


Rue Anemone (Thalictrum thalictroides or Anemonella thalictroides). A magnified bloom. In real life it's less than an inch (2.5 cm) across.


Toothwort. The genus used to be called dentaria, alluding to the roots that look like teeth, but was changed to cardamine. (If you know why, clue me in.) There are lots of species of toothwort. I think this one is Cardamine concatenata. I've read that you can eat the peppery roots, but I haven't tried it.


Toothwort close up.

Eagle

This is the sculpture of the bald eagle.

Whitwell - Sykes Lane - Empingham - Horn Mill - Fort Henry - Exton - Whitwell

Mel, Norma, Ian P, Barry O, Gordon, Maureen, Jill, and me. 8.6 miles (ish) Sunny, warm, dry underfoot.





From Whitwell - Sykes Lane - footpath across side of dam to Empingham - through village, past pub, turn left - take second footpath (with seat!)

over fields to Horn Mill trout hatchery - alongside spinney etc to Fort Henry Lake - turn left follow road alongside Tunneley Wood, turn left along Viking Way, take footpath before cemetery, into Exton via Dairy Lane, turn left along Stamford Rd. Cross road at T-junction and follow signed footpath through several fields, emerge at Noel Arms, Whitwell. There we found this magnificent commemorative plaque:









We braved the main road crossing and walked along Church Lane etc to car park.

Lunch at Harbour Cafe Whitwell.



Link to map etc

Glacier National Park :: A Visit With Jack Frost

Tuesday, September 20th - - We drove as far as we could from the east side on the Going to the Sun Highway – to Logan Pass. The highway had closed for the season at midnight on Sunday the 18th; not because of the weather but so that construction crews could work on the road.





On the way up to Logan Pass. Can you see several waterfalls toward the center of the picture? They can be seen if you double-click on the image for a larger version...





Clements Mountain and the beginning of the trail to Hidden Lake.

We walked a (very) short distance on the Hidden Lake Trail... The snow that I encountered in July of last year was no where to be seen, but I think there will be plenty of snow very soon!





In one section of trail, wildflowers blanketed the meadow.

We decided to walk a ways along the Highline Trail. Even though it was late in the morning there were traces of frost on the trails in the shaded areas, especially along the first portion of the Highline Trail. (As always, double-click on the image to see a larger version.)













Perhaps it was a good thing that the Going to the Sun Road was closed since the valley below was covered with fog.





You can see a little of the Going to the Sun Road on the right side of the above photo, just to the right and above the top of the fog.





Since the “season” was over, work crews had removed the chains along this section of the trail, parts of which are very narrow with a rather long fall if one should happen to slip! Crews were working on the trail around that far bend and we were reluctant to attempt to pass by them so we returned the way we came. After a short break for lunch, sitting in the glorious sunshine and taking in the awesome views, we went to the 'Many Glaciers' area further north in the park.

Grateful for Greenways

In my fourth year of cycling in the greater Boston area, I admit that I often get impatient with the greenways that run through the city. Being multi-use paths, they are usually congested with pedestrians. The interruptions are not well thought out. And they don't always take me exactly where I need to go. More often than not, I find myself choosing to cycle on the road instead... which is a shame, because I miss out on the beautiful scenery and the fresh air, all in the name of saving time.





Last weekend the Co-Habitant and I did something we haven't done for almost a year: went on a slow, meandering ride along the Charles River. On a sunny Saturday.Some time ago we'd decided this sort of thing was the stuff of nightmares because of how crowded the trail gets this time of year on weekends. But something in the air made us want to give it a try again.



And yes, it was super-crowded, with everyone photographing cherry blossoms and wandering all over the path without looking where they were going. Dogs on those long, invisible leashes, unattended toddlers making sudden u-turns on trikes, the whole nine yards. We had to ride really, really slowly. We had to be patient. We had to not think of it as cycling, but more like strolling by bike. Every half hour we stopped to sit down on the grass, drink from our flasks, stare at the water, enjoy the sun... It was wonderful!





To think, we were smack in the middle of Boston and not a car in sight. Birds chirping. The smell of grass and flowers. Lovely boats swaying. People sunbathing and having picnics everywhere. Sure we did not do a 50 mile loop through hilly country roads that day. But who cares? It was revitalising. It felt like a mini vacation.



We have several beautiful greenway networks here in Boston, and I truly am grateful for them. Greenways are not merely about getting from point A to point B, but about creating a healthy, flourishing oasis in the middle of a busy city that everyone can enjoy. Yes, they will be crowded on the weekend. And that is a good thing - it means people are using them. Sometimes we all need to take it slow, take it easy, and find a way to share these beautiful resources.

The Deer's View

Later, after the deer had gone - where ever they go - I wondered up to where they had been and took a photo of their view. You can see it was a long way from the house which is alm ost hid behind trees and a grape view. To the right is an old barn that has been converted to a garage, and to the left is Jim's workshop.