Invasive Plants

Garlic Mustard Weed

This spring as I watch our woods become green I have some mixed feelings. Much of the greenery is what has been labeled invasive; alien plants imported from far away lands, turned loose on fertile ground and spreading like wildfire, dominating all that grew before. I have lived here 30 years and witnessed the change in flora. It's hard for me to not feel some animosity toward these plants. They seem as bullies, pushing and shoving, subduing those that are not the same, no sharing here, just more, more, more.

I keep some areas clear, the small places where we have planted our own imports, but beyond the perimeter it's futile. I am out numbered by a staggering majority.

What to do, what to do? In looking into this a bit I found an excellent article entitled, "Mistaken Identity". It clearly states the problem and gives help in identification and then methods of control. It states, "You Can Make a Difference.  Many battles in the war against invasive plants are being won by small orginizations, volunteer “weed warrior” groups, local land managers, and private conservation landowners."

But here lies the problem. I don't like being a warrior. I don't want to be at war with my woods. It's a lovely spring evening, birds sing, the last rays of day make the greens glow and the shadows long. It's paradise on earth and I feel what - surrounded by the enemy, a relentless advancing army? This is an exaggeration for sure but still this view needs some adjustment.

It turns out that one of my favorite woodland plants, Dames Rocket, one that seemed to be diminishing in recent years, is listed as an invasive. So is it just a question of looks?

What's the most invasive species you can think of? Well, that would be us wouldn't it? Where we have gathered en masse there are square miles where literally nothing else grows. Almost everywhere we go the earth is begging for mercy. So if you're going take this get rid of invasives plan to heart you oughta … ah well geez I'm not gonna do that.

And when we are done strip mining Ohio what comes to the rescue? When we are done with our scorched earth program and departed what will begin again? It will be the hearty plants that thrive in all conditions, the ones that grow despite all efforts to exterminate them, the ones that cast their seeds by the millions, the weeds, the ones we call invasive. They will make a place inhabitable for others once again.

Bleeding Heart

I love this plant. I probably take its picture every spring. It speaks to my condition, liberal that I am.

I've got something hid behind my back
Something nice for you that's a fact
Flowers from the wooded trail
Bleeding heart and lizards tail
Put this one behind your ear
I'm so glad you're here

-Right Here With You, 1996

The Modern Handy Book for Boys

A weekend with siblings brought a wave of reminiscing and lots of laughs over our different versions of shared events. It's a long story, the one you have with your brothers and sisters. It includes the houses you grew up in, the extended family, the pets, the neighborhoods, the family cars, the food, the schools and, of course, the parents.

One story that came up was this book and the activities it generated, mostly for my older brother. A quick trip to the tucked away books produced it, much to my delight. I must have picked it from the shelf in the dissemination of parental possessions in one of the transitions, thinking my kids might enjoy it one day.

What's fun about this book, apart from reliving the things we did, is that in this era of lawsuits and foam rubber playgrounds it might very well be banned. I can see it now, after Justin has shot Geoffrey in the eye with "the whip bow", the briefcases are banging on the author's door claiming "egregious malfeasance and irresponsible disregard for the safety of the citizenry and their offspring." Hell yeah, that's why we liked this book.

A sampling of chapter titles - How to make stone hatchets and spears, how to make nets and traps, how to build a camp fire, make a swinging target operated by a phonograph, collecting - killing and mounting specimens. One chapter titled "Amateur Vagabonds" might well be called "How to Run Away from Home".

But the most influential chapter was "The Zarabatan or blowgun". Brother Larry and his friend took this idea and ran with it, making it a part of their activities for probably a year or so. From the book:

"The force and accuracy of a blowgun astonishes anybody who tries one for the first time. It is nothing but a straight, hollow tube into which small darts fit; but let the dart be a sliver of steel such as a sail maker's needle or horseshoe nail, and a puff of breath will sink it quivering a half inch deep into a plank. Yes, and even at a distance of a hundred feet."

Larry and Albert worked at it, perfecting the darts made with finishing nails and glue coated paper cones, or needles inserted into the end of wooden match sticks. They practiced their marksmanship and indeed they were astonishingly accurate.

And little brother had to try it too though I never developed their level of expertise.

An internet search does not say much about the author, Jack Bechdolt(1884-1954). He was a short story writer, novelist, and journalist. Only one or two works were for the juvenile audience. Much of his work was serialized in magazines. Our copy of The Handy Book for Boys is a revised edition published in 1958. It was first published in 1933.

Some sample pages - the contents show there were many civilized activities as well.

Click image to view slideshow.

I Am Not Happy

Ridgway's 13th Annual Chainsaw Carvers Rendezvous

Friday I went  to Ridgway, Pennsylvania to see the 13th Annual Chainsaw Carvers Rendezvous, which claims to be the largest gathering of its kind. 199 registered carvers from all over the U.S. and 9  countries gather for demonstrations and an auction at the end of the week long event. Despite a chilly wet day visitors walked the designated streets and parking areas in downtown Ridgway to view carvers at work. A friendly atmosphere with a sountrack of buzzing chainsaws.

I hope to return to Ridgway another time. Located on the Clarion river, it is the county seat of Elk County, an area of vast forests. Once a thriving town with a large tannery and lumber industries, its population peaked in the 40's but is now fading. Like so many small towns, storefronts go empty and once grand buildings fall into disrepair. There appears to be efforts to promote their beautiful surroundings. A 20 mile rails to trails bike path begins downtown and winds along the river. The river looks perfect for canoeing.

A guy walks into a bar .....

and it's already past his bedtime. But he's there to see the band, or more explicitly his daughter singing in the band and they start at 10:30. She gives a warm welcome and he picks a table right up front and the brown ale from a local brewery. They chat as the band sets up and begins the set. This will be her third performance and the first time he'll hear her sing with the band.

And it is a fine evening. The band is good, really good. He has always been partial to guitarists and this one must have put in his 10,000 hours. And his daughter is having the time of her life, the stuff she dreamed about. She is at ease and confident and she can sing with the best of them.

Not a big crowd, some empty tables, but the place has the nice feel of a local bar where people know each other. Some dancing begins between him and the band, free spirited ladies and a fun loving guy. Tribal dancing 'cause it feels good.  And he is aware that all around is the energy of youth, able bodied with an aura of sexuality. It is a club where his membership expired long ago though he does not lament it. A tall blond dancer extends her hand, an invitation to join the fray on the dance floor, but caught by surprise he declines, and then is disappointed he couldn't let go of the reserve, the distance he feels.

The Night Crawlers w/ Robin Tuttle at Zenos every Thursday night.

Handwritten