Digging RI

Another day, another great hike. And where would you guess this is? Probably not Rhode Island, known for its beaches. But it IS Rhode Island, on the “Duval” trail which is owned by the South Kingstown Land Trust. It is just a few minutes from our house, and recently my friend and I spend three hours hiking in there.

This is what draws people to this trail in June: the mountain laurels. Kalmia latifolia does very well here in the slightly acidic, well-drained soil. The flowers were just opening, and it was quite a show.

I love how the flowers vary in color from very white to very pink. I will admit I did lag behind a few times on this day, but you have to stop walking in order to take photos, don’t you?

Here’s a really pink one. And to think something so beautiful just grows here. No pruning, no fertilizer, just wild.

At the end of our longish driveway, I have planted shasta daisies. There they are, next to the ugly metal pole that holds our house number.

As I walk by, I often pause to neaten up the grasses that grow near the daisies. Too delicate a job for the weed whacker.

So I am plucking away at the grasses and suddenly I notice this: a young bunny is hiding in there. I used to foster cottontails, and they were usually about this size when I released them – still impossibly small, but ready to be on their own. Sad that most of them will end up being eaten. Being at the bottom of the food chain must really suck.

This little one was gone when I went out after dark. I hope he or she is safe, and staying out of my vegetable garden.

On a recent hike at the Tillinghast Pond Management Area, a Nature Conservancy-managed preserve, (that’s the pond in the photo) my friend and I were blown away by the beauty and diversity of the wildflowers.

It had rained a couple of days earlier, a proper soaking rain, and maybe that did the trick. This clearing in the above photo didn’t look particularly interesting, until you paid attention. What looked like an area in recovery suddenly became a very beautiful spot, dotted with Aquilegia Canadensis: Canadian, or Wild Columbine. We saw one, then a few more, then noticed them all over.

Here’s a wider shot, to give you an idea of how many there were.

These are known locally as “bluets.”

I couldn’t identify these lovely yellow flowers. I couldn’t even find them on the USDA list. I thought they might be “butter and eggs,” but they don’t have the darker centers. Then I thought “turtlehead,” but I have only seen those in pink. Maybe somebody can come to my rescue. HerbDoc? Andy?

How about this gall? It looks so much like a skull – or an alien out of the movie “Mars Attacks”-  it kind of creeped me out.

I will end with a final look at Tillinghast Pond from the other side. The trees were full of Baltimore orioles, and it was definitely one of those “good to be alive” days.

This is my collection of heart-shaped rocks. I collect rocks of all kinds wherever I go, but there is a special place in our living room for the heart-shaped kind.

I found another really good one on the beach last week.  As you can see, there is no doubt about the shape. I like the texture of the stone. It sort of reminds me of the moon.

One is more heart-colored than shaped, but again, unmistakable.

I know this has nothing to do with gardening, but it’s still kind of earthy, isn’t it?

Photo: CDC

I really, really hate ticks. Here in Rhode Island, there are several species of ticks, the best known of which is probably the nasty little black legged, or deer tick, that transmits Lyme Disease.

June, the most dangerous time of year, will soon be upon us, when the deer tick nymphs emerge, hungry for our blood. These little buggers are the size of  poppy seeds, so how the heck can to be sure you don’t have one in your hair? Or somewhere else, like your ear?

I am also worried about the other serious diseases ticks transmit: babesiosis, which attacks the red blood cells and anaplasmosis, which attacks the white blood cells. I recently spoke with a man, a person who, like me, spends time in the woods, and he contracted Lyme, Babesiosis and Anaplasmosis AT THE SAME TIME from a nymphal tick he never saw. He nearly died.

I refuse to stay indoors during  the summer, but between my gardening and hiking, I worry that it’s inevitable that I will catch something. I do apply a permethrin  spray, made by Sawyer, that you use on your clothes and is good for several washings. I also tuck my pants into my socks when I garden or hike. But I can’t do all that every time I walk my dog, or run out to get the mail. Yes, the dog is protected. I’d rather not have to put anything on her, but at this time of year, after pulling so many ticks off her, I finally threw in the towel.

The University of Rhode Island’s “TickEncounter” website is THE source of information on all things tick, including which ones are biting where and in what month. It’s a terrific resource for anyone who might have to deal with these nasty parasites.

Anyway, please be very careful, my gardening friends. The ticks are out there, and they can make you very sick indeed.

Allow me to introduce the newest member of our family. This is “Fidgit,” a two-year-old Welsh Pembroke corgi. (The breeder’s name, not ours. Oh and she also has one of those long official kennel names, but we’ll never use that.)

Our beloved longhaired dachshund, Geneva, died in March, and the house was just too quiet without the pitter patter of little doggie feet.

You might notice that Fidgit is a little damp. That’s because she is a great lover of the water. This was the first time she’d ever been on a beach, and she ran right in!

We asked the breeder about this, and after she stopped laughing, she said that Fidgit’s grandmother also loves the water.

She is also fond of rolling on the legs of dead spider crabs.

Running through the waves is another favorite activity. We love to watch her do this. It’s so interesting that she would have this affinity for the beach and salt water (and crab legs) never having been to the shore until now. Better late than never!

So far, she’s fitting right in to our life. Geneva is irreplaceable, but it feels wonderful to have a joyful canine presence in the house again.

As I was walking and driving around our neighborhood this week,  I was struck by the stunning display of the magnolias.  Once again, I snapped these quickly with my iPod. No time to run home and grab my camera.

This magnolia, with larger, burgundy-colored blooms, is the only one of its kind around here. It lost a major limb during superstorm Sandy, but it seems to be hanging in there. You can see where the branch tore off. I hope it survives. The flowers are single. Probably an old cultivar.

This pink one is common, but that doesn’t mean it’s not amazing. Look at how full it is. It almost hides the house, doesn’t it?

And finally, the white, fragrant beauty at the end of the street. It’s the first to bloom and it’s kind of winding down now, but you can still smell it when you walk by.

The dogwoods will be next, and I’m ready!

There it is, right beside the flats of pansies. The arsenal of chemicals that home gardeners will unleash on the environment. I love those “Wild West” themed commercials that make spraying your dandelions the manly thing to do. The man whose dandelion dies the quickest wins the shootout at the suburban driveway.

Whatever happened to pulling? Or burning? Or, heaven forbid, ignoring?

And that wasp and hornet killer. Are you sure it’s not going to kill beneficial insects like bees and dragonflies? How many people store this stuff properly, as per the instructions on the container, and how much of it ends up leaking and forgotten on a shelf in a shed or basement?

The name “Home Defense” is absurd. If you have a serious problem on the level of defending your home from truly dangerous invaders, you should be calling a professional. It’s much more effective, and safer for you, too.

When it comes to your lawn, do you fall for that “4-step” hype when all it takes to grow turf is really good soil? These products are energy-intensive to manufacture, hazardous to the environment, and do nothing to enhance soil quality. In fact, lawn chemicals kill beneficial organisms, creating grass that is a chemically-dependent desert.

Most people don’t care about that, I guess, but a few of us do.  Please consider alternatives before you spray.

The truck arrives to remove the seed-filled mover

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how a red squirrel adapted to the giant earth mover that’s been marring what little remains of our view since before Christmas. He or she doesn’t hang around here during the summer, but there’s evidence left behind.

Last week, a man came to take the machine away, but there was a problem: it wouldn’t start. He came to our house to ask if we had an outdoor electrical outlet he could use to start the thing, but alas, our older house does not have such a modern convenience. I took the opportunity to ask him whether he had found anything in the cab, and he replied that it was “full of seeds and corn,” a testament to the squirrel’s determination and hard work over the winter.

Oh, and here’s the monster garage that eclipses our salt pond view. It is so big, a reporter doing a profile of our neighborhood mistakenly wrote that it was a house!

Last weekend, my friend and I hiked the Tuckerman Ravine trail on Mt. Washington, (in the state of New Hampshire for readers who are outside the US). We were blessed with perfect weather, albeit wintry. There was complete snow cover, and crampons were a must. My kind of day. Pardon the less than stellar quality of the photos. I was lazy and used my iPod.

I had done this trail eight years ago and guess what? I didn’t remember what a slog it was – 1,850 feet straight up. For more information on the ravine, click here.

When we reached the base of the ravine about two and a half hours later, there were many hikers, skiers (and dogs of various descriptions), all enjoying the sunshine and getting ready to climb or skin up the ravine so they could ski or otherwise slide down. It was chilly in the wind though, so we stayed just long enough to refuel and take it all in.

On the way back down, the snow was much softer and when I stopped to listen, all I could hear was the dripping of  ice and snow melting from the trees. It is spring in the mountains – kind of.