The end resultof another hourin the garden

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That which came before.

Scoping the Moon

It's been awhile since I took the telescope outside,
and a bit longer since I tried to take a photo through the eyepiece.


With the Moon so close to its full phase,
it wasn't too hard to get a decent image.

I love the sightof monarchsin the morning.

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More evidenceof my floral fixation

Earlier evidence can be seen here.




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Eastward, ho!(with an eclipse on the horizon)

Updated Feb 24, 2008. See text at bottom.

My Lady Friend and I will return to Korea one month from today. We'll teach near Busan for at least one year, adding to the experiences that we gained while we taught in Yeoju.

The day after we arrive, on August 28, there will be a total lunar eclipse. In Korea and the rest of eastern Asia, totality will begin as the Moon rises. Europe, Africa and the Middle East won't be able to see the event at all.

The western United States and Canada will be able to see the entire eclipse, but further to the east, the Moon will set (early in the morning on the 28th) before the Earth's shadow passes over the lunar surface. See Shadow & Substance or Mr. Eclipse for more information.

On the night in question in Korea, it became quite overcast just before sunset. So we saw nada. However, there was another lunar eclipse six months later, which I was able to see fully in the midwestern US.

Another array of flowers,and some interestinginsects as well

But first, you can listen to me gush about the garden:


The garden video I referred to is on YouTube.



OK, on with the photos...











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Link to "The blooms are booming" for assorted flower photos,
or the next link for Datura pics in particular.

Sixty-six secondsfor surrealism

We took the train into the city on Thursday in order to attend the recording of "Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me" at Millenium Park. Someone had never been there before, so she was captivated by Anish Kapoor's Cloud Gate, the sculpture otherwise known as "the bean."

Three weeks in the West,parts 17, 18 and 19(a.k.a., The End)

We arrived at Navajo National Monument with just enough time to watch the Sun set behind the pink sandstone ridge. Then we had to scoot along because the mosquitoes and flies in the area were very excited to smell us.

We arose the next day, scouted around a bit, and then headed off to what had been our original overnight destination, Monument Valley. Very attentive readers of 22/7 will recall that I spotted those iconic spires from the air last summer.

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We just blew by the park, though, because we'd decided to head home after we left the Grand Canyon. Our experiences had been good throughout the journey, we'd seen all that we wanted to see (more than we could have expected, really), but we both wanted to rein in the spending... and I was beginning to have concerns about the seeds we'd sown in the garden just before our departure. My Lady Friend's family was there to tend to it all when we left, but they had since gone on their own vacation. I was trying not to fret about dried out seedlings and rabbits gone wild...

Anyhow, we shot past Monument Valley (the valley floor spotted with green for the first time in my experience), endured some stop-and-start construction zones in eastern Utah, zoomed through western Colorado, and finally arrived in Denver by nightfall. We camped in four-star luxury (compared to our previous sites) at Chatfield State Park, southwest of Denver.

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The next morning, we wove our way through the rush-hour traffic and began the long haul to Omaha. Surprisingly, we made it all the way across Nebraska in one day, even pushing a few miles into Iowa to punctuate the feat. We camped one last time, and in the morning we began the final leg, which took us past L.T. Organic Farm and Restaurant near West Des Moines.

I want to mention that it was during those last couple of days on the road that I began to notice more and more SURVs. I hadn't driven for four or five years, and I hadn't been in the country for two, so I didn't know that the phenomenon of super-sizing had extended to recreational vehicles. However, there was Joe Citizen, tooling around in something the size of a city bus... often with a jeep or SUV in tow.

I began to photograph as many of these beasts as I could -- a highway safari, if you will -- as we made our way on I-80. It was actually somewhere around Des Moines that I spotted a dealership with scores of these behemoths arranged like... well, the bus lot at Gangnam terminal in Seoul. This definitely seems to be something that Midwesterners are into for their summer excursions (but at these gas prices?).

Myself, I'd take something much more low-key and low-maintenance. But then again, I do like a bit of flair...


Go back to Day 16 or start from the beginning of the series.

Three weeks in the West, part 16.2

As I said at the end of the last post, we drove east to escape the crowds near the Grand Canyon's south entrance. After several minutes, we arrived at Grandview Point, where I had been with my grandparents and sister about 10 years earlier when this photo was taken.

My Lady Friend wanted to put a little more distance between us and the people who began to arrive at the viewpoint. She found a trail that led down along the canyon wall for several hundred meters (and which we heard continued for a couple of miles). There were very few people who took that route, so we were able to take in the views in relative solitude for the better part of an hour. Then we trudged back up to the top and hit a few more viewpoints before we reached the last one, Desert View.



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If I remember correctly, the watchtower at Desert View was the park's main visitor center for several decades. The tower and several nearby structures were designed by the architect Mary Colter in the 1930s. Inside, one will find a shop, cultural and geological information, and two floors that feature artifacts and commissioned artwork by local tribespeople.

Follow link for more historical photos.


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"The wall decorations of the Hopi Room are the work of Hopi artist Fred Kabotie. The large, circular painting opposite the entrance tells the Snake Legend -- the story of the beginning of the Snake Dances. It is also the story of the first man to navigate the Colorado River.

"The four quadrant panes represent the four directions. The story begins in the upper left panel (north) with a Hopi chief giving prayer sticks to his son before sending him on a hazardous exploration of the Grand Canyon. The purpose of the trip is discovery of the legendary Snake People, reportedly in possession of the power to make rain, which is badly needed by the desert clan of the Hopi.

"The upper right quadrant (west) shows the son's boat floating down the Colorado River between stylized canyon walls. The lower right quadrant (south) depicts the Snake priest presenting the bow, symbol of the Snake Clan, to the traveller who already has the secret of rainmaking in the bag. So well is he received that the Snake priest's duaghter is given to him as his wife.

"In the lower left panel (east), the young couple is shown on their trip back to the Hopi land. The blessings of the Snake people are upon them, for the bow is dripping water and rain is falling from six different clouds.

"The design at the center of the painting represents the center of the universe. Light and life (identical in Hopi thinking) are represented by the four circular bands of color around the four quadrants, with the Sun shown above and the Moon below. The Sun, being looked upon as the father of all living beings, has all the colors of the universe. He is shown spraying the breath of eternal life on the people as he circles them. The crescent-shaped creature shown in the Moon is a mouse -- the Hopi's equivalent to the Western 'man in the Moon' [unfortunately, there's no explanation about the symbolic, motherly attributes of the Moon -- Ed.].

"The canes in staggered sizes shown to the left and right of the circle represent the stages of humanity, symbolziing growth from birth until adulthood, the "entry into the universe," and finally, the gradually dwindling stature that comes with old age and the approach to death.

"To the left of the circular painting, the winged God of the Clouds is shown. Above him, a rainbow and a rain cloud; below, a "universal cloud" symbol that drips with rain and shows lightning at both ends.

"Another painting on the right depicts the God of Germination, attended by both the Sun and the Moon, rain clouds suspended over his head. In his hands are the implements for planting and watering corn. underneath is shown a garden plot and the kiva where he lives."

We spent some time walking around the Desert View complex, and then we left. We drove along the western edge of the Navajo Nation, headed for Kayenta, which prompted me to share a story about some NASA officials who encountered two Navajo shepherds during an Apollo training exercise in the area. I love that story, even if it's not true.

Anyhow, we didn't get as far as Kayenta because the daylight was quickly fading. We stopped to camp at Navajo National Monument instead, and thus ended day 16... the last day of our westward travel.










Part one of day 16 is here.

The final post in the series is here.

Three weeks in the West, part 16.1

We drove up to Flagstaff after our hike around Cathedral Rock. We bought some groceries and then washed lots of clothes at Loggermat Laundry. By the time we headed out, it was getting a bit dark and we had a bit of trouble finding a good place to camp. We eventually settled on a site not too far from the Arizona Snowbowl. The 3000-foot difference in elevation became quite obvious during the night, because it got capital-K cold. But we're adults, so we endured.

The next morning, June 10, we packed up and continued north to the Grand Canyon. We stopped in Grand Canyon Village after I spotted an Indian market on the side of the road. There was some excellent hoop dancing by a local performer, and I bought a new medicine bag for my crystals. After an hour or so, we moved along and arrived at the park soon afterward.

It was extremely crowded: the most congestion I'd ever seen on the South Rim. The new (to me) visitor complex was crawling with people, their cars and RVs parked bumper-to-bumper on both sides of the road. Of course, the last time I'd visited the canyon was by myself and at night, late in November of 1998. When I drove out to the canyon at that time, it was to scatter my father's ashes over the rim.

My father had died at the beginning of October in 1998. The last full day we spent together was in October 1997, when my parents and I went to the Grand Canyon before I began my job in Sedona. So I thought it would be fitting to bring his ashes there as a way to memorialize him.

In the years that have passed, I've seen photos that I'd swear were taken from the same spot upon which I stood that night. But since I don't recall the name of the viewpoint, I had to rely on memory to find the location. What with the crowds, the daylight and the almost fractal similarity in cliffside sculpting, this proved difficult. I scampered down one ledge that seemed right and searched for any remains of the candleholders I'd used nine years ago, but there was nothing. I just had to think about what had transpired in my life since that time, and reflect on the current of change.

And then we drove east to get away from the crowds.








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Photos from day 15 are here.

The second part of day 16 is here.

Mystery mushrooms no more

I just received a pointer about the fungi I found a few days ago.

Michael Kuo wrote to say that if the spores bruised blue, then they were likely Boletus campestris. I was just outside photographing new specimens, and they match up quite well with the young examples of that species.

A broken butterfly

I found the remains of this flutterby
as I walked toward the house.


Ants were scavenging from it,
so I picked it up and eventually
buried it under the zinnia
photographed here.

Developing situations:Destroying Angelsand Datura

Updated again a month and a half later:
Datura stramonium, a.k.a. Jimsonweed, a.k.a. Thornapple,
does grow naturally in Illinois.

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Back to the original post:

I still haven't received a confirmation (or correction) about the mushroom that I plucked from the yard some time ago. Today, I noticed four mushrooms growing in the same area where I found the first. Closer inspection of these young fungi leads me to think that they are "Destroying Angels" (Amanita bisporigera).


The curious thing was that they emerged from an empty patch of the front yard, quite some distance from any trees or shrubs. Amanita species typically grow among the roots of certain woody plants.

However, my Lady Friend just informed me that a tree grew in that area many years ago.

Meanwhile, in the backyard...


The Datura is about to bloom!

I don't know if this plant (of all plants) volunteered itself, or if there were seeds left over from a packet that I bought that got mixed in with everything else I put into that bed.

Anyhow, after a couple weeks of looking at this plant and thinking, "It looks like Datura... but come on," it became clear that this was what I had. This was just after I bought a discounted Datura innoxia at a local nursery and put it in the wildflower berm.

Datura is one of my favorite plants, which I was introduced to while I read The Teachings of Don Juan in New Mexico several years ago. Having become familiar with the plant in relation to shamanism and secret societies -- there are references made in The Serpent and The Rainbow, for example -- my mouth fell open when I saw it used as an ornamental all over Columbus, Ohio.


The species in the yard is Datura stramonium, by the way.

Three weeks in the West, part 15

June 9: Our last day in Sedona.

Toward the end of the previous day, after a stroll along the banks of Oak Creek, we drove to a Cathedral Rock trailhead. The path to the plateau is on a steady incline, and I felt quite stiff because of my climb up Camel Mountain the day before. My Lady Friend, however, quickly ascended to about halfway before she came back down to find me. It was late in the afternoon by that time, so we chose to return to Cathedral in the morning and then make our way to Flagstaff.

All the photos here are from our hike up Cathedral Rock. If you ever get out there, then remember that once you arrive at the base of the spires (from where you can see the view in "Western Red Rocks" below), walk another 20 meters up and to the left, and then you can see the views captured in "Cathedral Rock Spire" and so on.






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Photos from Day 14 are here.

Proceed to Day 16.

The last one for tonight...

I've spotted a blue swallowtail and a couple of monarchs
in the yard recently, but they never stopped flitting around.

The blooms are booming.

There was heavy rain during the first half of last week,
so things are even more colorful and abundant in the garden
(and along the berm that I created with the clay that came out of the beds).








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(a different view)

Centaurea cyanusin several shades

One-off of an off-white rose

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Farmer D's recipes

Anti-Pest-O

Before or after I put the seeds and mulch down in the garden beds, I'd pour fish-emulsion fertilizer into the soil. I think the directions said one capful to a gallon, but I used at least two. I used one gallon of this solution for every five square feet of soil.

Once that was done, I'd put the mulch down, tidy it up, and then pour another couple of gallons of this mixture on top of the bed. This would make the ground smell nice and ripe, and thus keep foraging animals away. There are de-scented repellents and fertilizers available that are supposed to have the same utility without the aroma.

I've seen recommendations about pouring fish emulsion (or some other kind of repellent solution) around the edge of a garden in order to make a scent border. I did that with a powdered fish-and-bonemeal product after we returned from the desert and saw that things had been gnawed while we were gone.

These mixtures can be applied once a week for three weeks when plants and seeds are put in during the spring. After that time, you can begin to use:

Garlic Marinade

Two gallons of water
At least 3 tablespoons of garlic powder*
At least 5 tablespoons of cayenne powder
At least 3 tablespoons of clove powder
One tablespoon of white pepper (preferably; black pepper will do in a pinch)
One or two tablespoons of hot sauce
No more than 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil
One or two tablespoons of Dr. Bronner's peppermint soap (peppermint oil repels insects; the soap and oil will help the mixture stick to the leaves)

Mix these together in a bucket, scoop some out and pour it liberally over the leaves of new plants. Repeat every week for at least three weeks when plants are developing to remind any critters to stay away.

The mixture will need to be reapplied after a heavy rain. It's best to apply any kind of solution in the evening so that it can be absorbed into the leaves and the surrounding area overnight. The early morning is a good time, also.

If you apply during the middle of the day, the solution could cause leaf burn (or just simply evaporate).

* Fresh garlic would be even better to use, because of the oil and smell. Consider buying two or three pounds of garlic, dice it in a blender, refrigerate the pulp, and then add a couple tablespoons each time you need to make this mix. Also, interplant garlic, marigolds or calendula (which is, of course, a kind of marigold).

And finally, in order to deter certain insects (like, say, Japanese beetles) from chewing on leaves and flowers, consider using:

Oil Dressing

One gallon of water
One teaspoon of Dr. Bronner's peppermint (or some other "flavor" of) castile soap
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon of neem oil
10 or so drops of peppermint oil
10 or so drops of citronella oil
10 or so drops of lemongrass oil

You can also add similar amounts of garlic and clove oil, but the three above are enough.

I blended these ingredients together in a gallon jug and then poured the solution into an 32-oz. spray bottle. One gallon will give you enough for three bottles' worth of spray (which was more than enough for all of the plants in our 1000-sq.-ft. garden). Be sure to spray the tops and bottoms of the leaves, as Japanese beetles in particular will just go to the undersides if only the tops have been sprayed.

Apply once a week during the height of summer (and soon after a heavy rain). Again, evening or the early morning are the best times to apply. Be on the lookout for bees, though, because you don't want to do them in or discourage them from pollinating the flowers.

Neem oil will also help to inhibit plant diseases... as well as nourish your skin, but that's a different story.

Yes, I'm fully invested in the local flora.

Here's what I shot on Friday and Saturday.
The images below are from this morning.










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You know, I might post little elsebut flowers for the rest of the month.

It's certainly better than cutting them.

Really, though, after all of the work and care,
it's nice to be able to watch these plants
grow, bloom and produce seeds.

So many things to be discovered by observing these plants
(an activity made more intriguing as I finished reading
Intelligence in Nature while the flowers began to appear).






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These were all captured over the weekend.
Another set just from today is next.

Double conjunction at sunset

If you have clear skies tonight,
look to the west about 30 minutes after sunset.

Venus, the Moon and Saturn
(along with the star Regulus)
will be closely aligned
with each other.

More backyard blossoms

Continuing coverage of what's caught my eye
in the yard and beyond.




















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Three weeks in the West, part 14

This will be quick.

On June 8, we left our campsite near the Village of Oak Creek and went to Oak Creek itself. We walked along the trails on the northern banks, saw the typically grand view of Cathedral Rock (you might recognize it, even if you haven't been to Arizona), and then we drove to the base of that very same butte.

I felt quite stiff after the previous day's camel ride, but my Lady Friend shot up the side of the butte like a pro. I hung back and focused on the prickly pear flowers and agave, then searched the plateau for her (she's in the lower right in a yellow shirt).

From there, we went to Ravenheart Coffee, which we were amused to discover has one other location... out here in suburban Chicago. We kicked around there for a bit, then took in another sunset near the airport mesa. And that's that.




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Photos from day 13 are here.

Day 15 photos are here.

Three weeks in the West, part 13

One of the reasons that I'd looked forward to our visit to Sedona was because of the opportunity to climb. When I moved to Arizona in 1997, it was just a few months after my first trip to Colorado. My friend there had roommates who were rock climbers. With their guidance, I had my first, tentative experience scrambling up and down a granite cliff.

I went to Arizona in order to work for the daily newspaper in Sedona. I would spend my lunch hour kicking around the twin hills and the purported vortex near the airport. Down in the dry wash at the base of those hills, I spent a lot of time investigating the plant life and insects, taking in the views, and figuring out routes along the sandstone cliffs. Thus began my brief, solitary, and fairly minor-league career as a free climber.

After a few months, I quit the newspaper job. I went on to spend most of my time exploring new rocks, new routes and the nighttime sky. The cumulative effect of those activities was the awakening of the astro-naturalist in me. Living under those dark skies and seeing Sedona's vistas everyday -- to spend so much time in that place, which seems like a home to gods and goddesses of some long-lost era -- it was only a matter of time before the beckoning of spirit and the land drew me away from the structures and demands imposed by others, and onto a path of reclamation and reformulation of self.

The challenges and wonders that I experienced in Sedona helped me to be aware of my potential and purpose in life (though it took a couple of years before I really began to act upon it).


"The Sacred Pentagram of Sedona,"
by Nicholas R. Mann

A couple of years after I returned to Ohio, I was asked what part of my body I associated with my strength or ability to negotiate risk. "My feet," I replied, and I talked about bounding from boulder to boulder, or edging along some inches-wide shelf in Sedona. I added that at the base of the airport hill routes, I would look for a bit of sage to rub on my hands and face before I began to climb. This, I was told, was likely because of the cleansing and calming effect of that plant, which I (consciously) knew nothing about at the time of my little ritual.

Anyhow... Our journey to Sedona was a way for me to reflect on those experiences, and to consider how they influenced my life from that time forward. It was also another opportunity, much as it had been in northern New Mexico, to share some of the sights and stories from the past with my Lady Friend, who'd heard many tales but had no reference for the places.

I'd had this grand vision of us climbing to the top of Camel Head Mountain together, to close the circle on the experiences that I'd had by myself. My Lady Friend isn't too big on heights, though, and as I made my way up the ridge to see how challenging it might be for her, I realized that this was just going to be a homecoming for me.

After an hour or so, I made it to the peak. It used to be possible to get onto the camel's head, but the sandstone shelf that provided a kind of ramp onto that boulder has broken. It was easy to imagine trying to clamber over that thing and then taking a thousand-foot fall. So I walked across the camel's back, took the obligatory "I was here" pic, remembered how I hooted and hollered for people's attention the first time I reached the peak in '98, and then I made my way.

We tooled around town for a bit, had lunch at New Frontiers, and then we drove to the airport vortex to watch the sunset (along with scores of other folks). And so ends part 13.






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The "camel" rests at the top of the leftmost landform,
just under the line made by the canyon rim.




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Days 11 and 12 are featured here.

And here's day 14.

Let the blossoming begin.

These images are from the edge of the yard, a marsh that's managed by the local park district, and the fen that I featured last week.












This passionflower was on display
at The Pure Gardener in Geneva.

Three weeks in the West,parts 11 and 12

So where was I?

On June 4, we arrived in Arizona. I hadn't been in the particular area to which we were headed -- the White Mountains -- since I'd gone to the Rainbow Family National in 1998.

An old friend of my Lady Friend's was spending the summer in Pinetop, AZ. This is a resort town a couple of hours east of Phoenix (or north of Tucson). I mention that because many of the people we met were Tucson residents who'd come up to enjoy cooler temperatures.

As it had been when we arrived in Colorado, there were storm clouds looming to the west. No rain fell, but we welcomed our host's invitation to stay at her place. On the 5th, we drove about an hour north to Petrified Forest National Park, which I kept referring to as the Painted Desert. The two blend together, geographically and geologically (or I suppose I could say "geomorphologically").

It was claimed that the park is the only location on Earth that has petrifed wood fused with quartz. I wondered about sites on the nearby reservations and elsewhere in the state, though. I recall picking up all sorts of petrified wood in Sedona when I lived there. Additionally, I noticed a Native craftsman who sold sculptures made from the same wood on the way to the Grand Canyon.

In the latter case, it was very clearly indicated that he had not obtained the wood in the national park, which is illegal. According to park info, a ton of petrified wood is taken away by visitors... each year, was it? My Lady Friend watched the video presentation while I walked across the visitor center, so I'm getting that tidbit from her.

Anyhow: We followed the circuit road that connects many of the viewpoints and trails, then we took a short hike down into the multicolored hills. I didn't read about how the different types of sediment in the area were formed, so I can't tell you how the Painted Desert became painted.

I hadn't slept very long the night before, so I was quite drained by the time we returned to the car. My Lady Friend drove us back to Pinetop. We ate, we slept, and then the next day, we departed for Sedona. Along the way, we saw the charred remains of the previous year's wildfires -- and caught faraway glimpses of a fire that was burning near Heber, AZ.

After a couple of hours on the backroads, we arrived at the Village of the Oak Creek. This is a small satellite town of Sedona, "the New Age capital of the Universe" as described by a friend as I prepared to move there 10 years ago.

It had been nearly eight years since my last visit to Sedona. This was the part of our trip that I'd looked forward to the most, going back to that winter night in Korea when we first discussed driving through the Southwest. I was honestly and obviously excited about what was ahead, which was a surprise for my Lady Friend (who often asks if I'm excited about something, only to get the reply, "I wouldn't say 'excited.'")

I'll share more about why -- and what we did Sedona -- in the next couple of posts.


















This is Agave parryi, otherwise known as century plant. Apparently, the common belief was that this type of agave only produced flowers after 100 years. It will actually bloom, and then die, after about 20 years.

I'd seen the tall, dry stalks of dead agaves around Bell Rock many times in the past, so it was a surprise to see so many of the plants in full bloom.


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Photos from days nine and ten are here.

Here is the post for day 13.

Meanwhile, in the backyard...

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Photos from a fen(a wetland by another name)

False sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides)


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Deptford Pink, which is half the width of a penny.



Horehound was my best guess with this one.
Nope, it's smooth hedge nettle.


I've half-joked with my Lady Friend that my first act
as president would be to nationalize all golf courses
and make some executive order against manicured,
overwatered, chemically treated lawns. Let it grow.


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Images taken at Ferson Creek Fen, June 29, from 2 to 4 p.m.
See Prairie Wildflowers of Illinois in order to learn more.

Speaking of more, please see:

Meanwhile, in the backyard...
Let the blossoming begin.
More backyard blossoms