Sept. 12, 1859. P.M.
To Moore's Swamp and Great Fields. ….
The four kinds of bidens (frondosa [bur marigold] connata [purple-stem or London bur marigold], cernua [nodding bur marigold], and chrysanthemoides [now called Bidens laevis, or larger bur marigold) abound now, but much of the Beckii [water marigold] was drowned by the rise of the river. Omitting this, the first two are inconspicuous flowers, cheap and ineffectual, commonly without petals, like the erechthites [fireweed], but the third and fourth are conspicuous and interesting, expressing by their brilliant yellow the ripeness of the low grounds. ....
I stand in Moore's Swamp and look at Garfield's dry bank, now before the woods generally are changed at all. How ruddy ripe that dry hillside by the swamp, covered with goldenrods .... The goldenrods on the top and the slope of the hill are the Solidago nemoralis [gray goldenrod], at the base the taller S. altissima (tall goldenrod). The whole hillside is perfectly dry and ripe.
Many a dry field now, like that of Sted Buttrick's on the Great Fields, is one dense mass of the bright-golden recurved wands of the Solidago nemoralis (a little past prime), waving in the wind and turning upward to the light hundreds, if not a thousand, flowerets each. It is the greatest mass of conspicuous flowers in the year, and uniformly from one to two feet high, just rising above the withered grass all over the largest fields, now when pumpkins and, other yellow fruits begin to gleam, now before the woods are noticeably changed. Some field where the grass was too thin and wiry to pay for cutting, with great purplish tufts of Andropogon furcatus [grass] going to seed, interspersed. Such a mass of yellow for this field's last crop! Who that had botanized here in the previous month could have foretold this more profuse and teeming crop? All ringing, as do the low grounds, with the shrilling of crickets and locusts and frequented by honey-bees (i.e. the goldenrod nemoralis). The whole field turns to yellow, as the cuticle of a ripe fruit. This is the season when the prevalence of the goldenrods gives such a ripe and teeming look to the dry fields and to the swamps. They are now (the arguta being about done) the nemoralis and altissima, both a little past prime. The S. nemoralis spreads its legions over the dry plains now, as soldiers muster in the fall. It is a muster of all its forces, which I review, eclipsing all other similar shows of the year. Fruit of August and September, sprung from the sun-dust. The fields and hills appear in their yellow uniform. There are certain fields so full of them that they might give their name to the town or region, as one place in England is called Saffron Walden[, named after the saffron crocus (Crocus sativus), which is grown there]. ….
A profusion of wild fruits, agreeable to the eye if not palate, is seen along some walls and hedges now. Take this dry wall-side by Sted Buttrick's field now, though probably not remarkably rich. Here I find elder-berries, panicled cornel, acorns of various kinds, black cherry (nearly gone), green-briar berries, grapes, hazelnuts (the pale-brown nuts now peeping between the husks), alternate cornel (which is about done), sumach, chokeberry, and haws; and earlier there were shad-berries, thimble-berries, and various kinds of huckle- and black-berries, etc.
Sept. 12, 2021.
From the Knoll section of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, I follow the eastern perimeter of the woods. It’s in the high 70s under a half-cloudy sky. Along the edge and within the woods to the west of Moore’s Swamp, the variety of berries abounds. First the invasives - the juicy black of the alder buckthorn and green, yellow and orange of the hanging oriental bitter sweet covering the lower branches of trees. At the trail entrance, the linden viburnum, wild now and considered invasive in some areas with large oval leaves and bright red berries on the forest floor. The orange berries of the European lily-of-the-valley and deep translucent dark red of the Canada mayflower. A maple viburnum with dark blue oval berries under the canopy. Even the white berries of the large stands of western poison ivy, along the edge of the Great Field south of the Reformatory Trail bikeway.
As Thoreau describes, the goldenrod is everywhere right now, along the edge of the woods entrance from Knoll, on the western upper side of the pond next to Moore’s Swamp, and along the pathway through Moore’s Swamp itself. Other sprinklings of colors along the way include the white of sweet everlasting, purple of the loosestrife, orange of the jewelweed, and pinkish-violet of the New York asters.
Perfectly camouflaged within the dry, browning common reeds and grasses (including deertounge) within Moore’s Swamp, I see a brown and green praying mantis. My photo included below barely reveals its presence; it is so hidden in plain sight! Cattails are unfurling now, showing their puffy dander-like seeds. I follow the trail through to the last “Great Field” toward the Reformatory bike trail to the north. A swath of planted sunflowers, well past prime, hold onto only select yellow flower heads, the rest well past prime.
Thoreau’s review of the forms of bidens/bur marigolds is a useful stopping point for review. To date, I have only found the less decorative, non-petaled bur marigold (Bidens frondosa) and purple-stem bur marigold (Bidens connata), including yesterday. (It is two days hence, on September 14, that I finally find with much delight, after multiple days of looking, a thick, dramatic stand of larger bur marigolds (Bidens laevis), some plants up to six-feet high!, and on September 18, a stand of lower, but still impressive, nodding bur marigolds (Bidens cernua). Below I include photos of these bidens (clockwise, as discussed, from top left).
It is also on September 14 when I find behind the Town's public works building along Walden Street, near the entrance to Hapgood Wright Town Forest, a dramatic, dazzling display of yellow in a field of goldenrods so thick, deep and wide, that it takes my breath away. Without this Thoreau project, I might have driven by with only a momentary "oh that's beautiful" glance and thought, but today with this Thoreau-quest-and-find, I am awestruck, and pull over my car for a long-look, taking in up-close the myriad pollen-collecting bees, and meditating over the grand sweep of homogoneous color. And as Thoreau sees, I too observe the interspersed purplish-reds of waving grasses gone to seed. Goldenrod, thought by most gardeners as merely a weed, and placed on the low-levels of wildflower seekers due to its ubiquitous nature, in such mass cannot be disliked, ignored or even patronized with such a grand, uniform profusion of color, such an uplifting gift to the spirits of the onlooker. I have added a yearly e-calendar appointment to visit this exact spot again and again, so easily reached, even if for just five minutes, which bound to elevate my mood on future anniversary dates.
Per Thoreau's suggestion, might we not call this town, "Golden Concord," after this glorious feature, and work together to engender such profusions of golden fields even more! While I suggest this name change in jest, it wouldn't be unprecedented, akin to the residents of Manchester, Mass. renaming their town "Manchester-by-the-Sea." Ha. Should we not encourage more landowners to let their shorn fields go similarly fallow, and so serve as ornamental nectar bonanzas to attract tourists and bees alike! So magnificent a display for doing nothing, just sitting back and letting the fields grow!
Opmerkingen