A Northwoods Almanac for 9/6-19/19
Spring-loaded
I love my wife Mary for a host of reasons, but one of the best reasons is how she delights in tiny things that only a true lover of plants would enjoy. Last weekend, we were eating our lunch on our deck when she stepped over to some jewelweed flowers that had gone to seed and began popping the tiny pods, literally cackling with laughter as she went. Her “inner junior-high” was in full bloom as she sprung the seeds from pod after pod – it was great to watch. And, of course, I then had to go over and pop some pods, too, and then we had to photograph how the pods curled up like tiny springs after the seeds were sent flying.
We often spend lunch this way, distracted by some small event or possibility or observation. A bird flitting in the shrubs, some new flower in the marsh, a mushroom we pour over books vainly trying to identify, a lichen we’d never noticed on a tree, and so on. It can make lunch a rather drawn out affair, but always an interesting one.
However, back to jewelweeds. Jewelweeds (Impatiens capensis) have earned their other common name, “touch-me-not,” for precisely this reason – if you touch them, they’ll literally “explode” in your hand. The Latin genus name Impatiensrefers to the impatience they display in dispersing their seeds. The orange or yellow flowers form thin, inch-long seedpods. Pinch the end of one of the ripe pods, and the pod springs instantly apart, unfurling to fling the seeds away. Henry David Thoreau noted this as well: “Touch-me-not seed vessels, as all know, go off like pistols at the slightest touch, and so suddenly and energetically that they always startle you, though you are expecting it.”
Folk wisdom suggests that jewelweed sap will ease the rash of poison ivy, but at least two controlled clinical studies have shown that jewelweed is no more effective than a placebo.
We’ve had a jewelweed bonanza this year, with far more plants growing “free of charge” on our property than ever before. I credit the wet year we’ve had since this annual plant likes to grow in damp areas. The hummingbirds in our yard have been particularly pleased because the tubular, spurred and lipped flowers are one of their favorites for nectar. Ruby-throated hummingbirds are attracted to the orange-gold flowers of jewelweed, and a single bird can visit as many as 200 flowers in 15 minutes. And in the spirit of reciprocation, the hummers pick up grains of pollen at every flower and deposit them on the next flower they land on, a fair trade indeed.
The Baby-Saver Plant
Bee balm/wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) and Oswego tea (Monarda didyma) are just going-by now. The common names get mixed up on these two species – the flower of bee balm or wild bergamot is usually pale purple, while the flower of Oswego tea is a brilliant scarlet. Both species attract bees like crazy, and both are favorites of hummingbirds, but bee balm is native and prolific in our area while Oswego tea is considered a garden escapee.
Many Native American tribes utilized bee balm for digestive and respiratory ailments. The leaves smell both minty and citrusy, a fragrance some feel smeels similar to the cultivated Mediterranean fruit bergamot. Fistulosameans “made of tubes”, an apt description of the tubular flowers.
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| bee balm amid yellow coneflower |
In the book Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have to Do is Ask, the author, Wendy Makoons Geniusz, an Ojibwe teacher and healer, describes bee balm as the “baby-saver plant” for its role in soothing colic in babies. Misty Cook (Davids), a member of the Stockbridge-Munsee Band of Mohican Indians, writes in her book Medicine Generations, that bee balm “is the most commonly used Medicine amongst our people still today.” She notes that it’s good for “any kind of cold, flu, aching bones, pneumonia, high fever and/or chills.”
Oswego tea is common in Northeastern states and apparently was abundant in Oswego Indian territory in New York state. The story goes that in 1743, John Bartram, a botanist, traveled to New York state to help make a treaty with the native people. Here he came across the plant at Fort Oswego, and learned that the Indians used the plant to treat chills and fevers. Bartram then named the plant after the fort – the Indian name for the nearby river.
While its historic use was medicinal, it was used most often simply for its good taste.
Fruitful September
Fruits now ripe, or still coming ripe, as well as a few gone-by in our yard include: elderberry, blueberry, high-bush cranberry, mountain ash, nannyberry, winterberry, pear, apple, plum, blackberry, downy arrow-wood, grape, cranberry, black cherry, currants, Juneberry, alternative-leaved dogwood, and Virginia creeper.
One edible fruit now profusely available in the woodlands is the bunchberry. However, “edible” does not connote tasty. These berries contain a very large pit, the flesh is slimy, and they’re tasteless. Other than that, bon-appetit.
Nighthawk, Raptor, and Songbird Migrations
Tim Kroeff dropped me a note on 8/25 saying, “WOW, are there a lot of nighthawks passing through the area over here west of Minocqua. I assume other people are observing the same.”
A week later, Diane Steele emailed saying: “Just caught a nighthawk migration over the Manitowish Waters ballfield. At least 50. Flying low and feeding.” Many other folks around the state have reported seeing flocks of nighthawks heading south. You might still catch a few in the early September – watch after dawn and before dark.
Nighthawks migrate an exceptionally long distance, some traveling back and forth from Argentina to the far northern Canada each year. They feed almost exclusively on flying insects, so with frosts coming, their eating-on-the-fly means that they are one of the first birds to leave in the fall and one of the latest to return in the spring. They’re typically gone in another week.
In case you forgot, nighthawks are neither a hawk nor nocturnal. They’re more a cousin to whip-poor-wills, and feed most actively at dawn and dusk.
The raptor migration picks up now and peaks in mid-September due to the abundance of broad-winged hawks that come through during this period. As of 9/2 at Hawk Ridge in Duluth, their counters already have tallied 383 bald eagles and 268 sharp-shinned hawks, but the most abundant migrant so far is the nighthawk – so far, they’re observed 7,193 nighthawks flying over the ridge.
The hawk weekend festival at Hawk Ridge in Duluth takes place on 9/20 to 9/22 and is absolutely worth the drive if you can find the time. Flights of over a thousand broad-wings are relatively common, with the record count of over 102,000 in one day.
Meanwhile, songbirds are flowing south to stay ahead of insect losses to frost. Ryan Brady, an expert birder in Washburn, tallied 163 warblers of 17 different species passing over his yard on 8/30. He also noted that he saw his “first good push of Swainson's Thrushes, a few Pine Siskins, and a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher among some Least Flycatchers and migrant Eastern Wood-Pewees. Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Baltimore Orioles, Indigo Buntings, Bobolinks, Cliff Swallows, and others are also on the move.”
It’s both an exciting and sad time of the year to see these birds migrating.
Celestial Events
Observable planets in September are limited to Jupiter and Saturn, both of which are visible respectively in the southwest and south after dusk.
We’re rocketing toward autumn equinox on 9/23. As of 9/7, we’re down to 13 hours of daylight.
On the nights of 9/7 and 9/8, look for Saturn just above the waxing gibbous moon.
The full moon occurs of 9/13. Variously called the Harvest Moon, the Leaves Changing Color Moon, and the Acorns Moon, this will be the most distant and thus smallest full moon of the year.
Thought for the Week
“What I do here matters. Everybody lives downstream.” – Robin Wall Kimmerer in her book Braiding Sweetgrass
Please share your outdoor sightings and thoughts: call 715-476-2828, e-mail at manitowish@centurytel.net, snail-mail at 4245N State Highway 47, Mercer, WI, or see my blog at www.manitowishriver.blogspot.com
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