Remembering the Wilds of Two Summer Rides Past

Summer 2010 (but this year, not spotted in the same place, most likely because the mowing cycle was different)

It's a long way from now till the wilds of the roadside weeds pictured here are blooming or going to seed. How long? Until blooming Queen Anne's Lace alongside drying Curly Dock seedheads, like above? Maybe six months. Until the possibility of blooming old field clover at the old airfield I garden at, like below? Maybe five. How much is there to see and learn from now about weeds and wild things until then? An infinite amount.

It's hard not to repeat yourself writing a blog, but perhaps not repeating yourself is an unworthy goal, for we live with and within seasons and cycles, day and night, an almost ridiculously constant repetition, and with changes we sometimes can only notice after long periods of time. It is a very small thing to follow the growth of the things around you, their cycles, and to appreciate them in their moment and make note of it for the future or as my mom likes to say, for posterity. But there are far worse ways to spend your time and your attention. I'd rip these things out if they were in my vegetable garden, but I can love them as I pass them on my way there. We are allowed some duplicity in life.


Summer 2011

Gleaning and Prospect Park, 2011

Normally, my gleanings in Prospect Park are simply the information gathered about what is budding or blooming. But there have been a few times this year when I've gleaned in the park in a way that is closer to the idea of gleaning in the fields or gathering what is left for waste but still usable. The latest example of this kind of gleaning are the Magnolia branches with buds in the vase above. On a bike ride in the park I had passed some branches on the ground left by parks workers, who I'm assuming were pruning as part of park maintenance, whether for the health of the trees or safety of park users and workers. They hadn't been hauled away yet and I just clipped the tips of a few of these cut branches to bring home for a vase.

Below, two similar rides in the park in late winter and early spring offered opportunities for salvaging, but the reasons I was able to gather those times were not because of park work, but normal wear and tear of the year. In both instances, I found branches recently damaged by wind or weather and was able to bring home some blooming witchhazel and the amazing early growth of a young Buckeye.

(This post was inspired by my recent watching of a film by Agnes Varda, which made me think of her beautiful documentary film, "The Gleaners and I".)

At the Beech in Fall and Winter

Beech Tree, Fall, Prospect Park

I went for a ride in Prospect Park yesterday, breathing a little hard and checking out the fall color, and I ended up beside the same beautiful Beech I admired on my first fair-weathered winter ride of this year. On that mid-February day I saw my first blooms of the year as well. The park is pretty magnificent right now and this fall is turning out pretty well, despite the freak October snowstorm.

Beech Tree, Winter, Prospect Park

Walk to an Old Kettle Pond

What we think is a Praying mantis egg sack, Forest Park

On our bike ride home from Queen's Botanical Garden yesterday, we stopped at a restored Kettle Pond in Forest Park for a quick walk. We've passed the area on hundreds of bike rides through the park but never noticed an open gate leading into the area. We poked around for a bit and discovered a praying mantis egg sack attached to a drying aster flower stalk, (or at least some kind of composite flower) plenty of ducks we don't know the names of and at least one potentially invasive species inhabiting the water. All things considered, not a bad pitstop for a bit of studying.

Yellow Floating Heart (Nymphoides peltata). Pretty, but not necessarily a good thing outside of its native habitat. Another common name is the Fringed Water Lily because of the fringes visible on its five petals.

Ride Before the Storm

Sunflowers, East NY, Brooklyn

We took the long way to the community garden, pedalling a thirty mile loop through East NY, Broad Channel and the Rockaways on the bright summer's day before the storm. If the weathermen weren't tracking Irene, you might have thought that this weekend would bring more bright sun and perfect conditions for a day at the beach. But we don't live in a time when the forecoming weather is a mystery, so we enjoyed the ride and the moment, knowing we wouldn't be riding or gardening in the sun today. We admired the lush green growth at the community garden on New Lots in East NY, imagining the gardeners there harvesting and tidying up before the storm just as we would be doing in our own garden plots, and took in the beauty of the clear waters of Jamaica Bay, which we're hoping doesn't rise far enough in the storm to flood the gardens at Floyd Bennett.

Jamaica Bay

Back at Floyd Bennett, we looked out on a pasture that grows on cement. Before the airport, much of this place was under water, or a series of small marsh islands, something to ponder. Then we rode the last ten miles home, paniers full of potatoes and other ripe produce. We live in the heights, (well, it's high for Brooklyn), so we will be home this weekend. Some of our neighbors at the garden, under mandatory evacuation in Coney Island, were still figuring out where they would spend the weekend. We hope for the best for our garden plots in the storm, but we can always rebuild if necessary. Our investment is slight, miniscule in comparison to the regions farmers and wineries. So we hope for the best for the new urban rooftop farms in Greenpoint and Long Island City and the farms and wineries out east in Suffolk county.

Cement prairie, Floyd Bennett Field, Brooklyn

On Two Wheels

The vegetable harvest (red frying peppers, red grape tomatoes, paste tomatoes and some herbs) tucked into the bicycles' paniers, the precious and delicate tomatoes wrapped in pants and newspaper to protect their skin from all the jostling of the Brooklyn streets. The flowers atop the bike rack wrapped in newspaper and little foil at the bottom to hold water.

There are easier ways to get your perishables home intact from the community garden, but they aren't as much fun as rolling on two wheels with the wind at your back.

For big fun on two wheels, a tandem bike ride across the country visit here. We met this lovely couple on the first day of their ride out of Manhattan at Bear Mountain and check in daily for inspiration, funny bits of roadside conversation and lessons in geography. It's a welcome break from all the negativity about cycling I keep reading about lately in the New York City tabloids and blogs and it reminds me of the most important reason to ride. For the love of it.

While the Bergamot Bloomed Wild

we went out for a bike ride. Along roads in Putnam and Dutchess and New York counties farther north we found Wild Bergamot blooming in large patches. But closer to the city limits in Westchester County, where these pictures were taken, we passed it too. I've never seen Monarda fistulosa (Wild Bergamot) blooming wild off the side of a road in Brooklyn, but that doesn't mean I never will. It is native to the area and most of the United States, so there is always the hope.

Update: Over at 66 Square Feet, Marie has a lovely picture of Wild Bergamot planted at the new Brooklyn Bridge Park. Just another reason to love some of these newest parks, the plant choices.

Hemaris sp. (Hummingbird or ClearWing Moth) feeding on Wild Bergamot, New York

New York Country

On the road to Saratoga, in the New York country, there is big sky, farming and there are quiet two-lane roads. You don't have to go too far outside of the city to be deep into country and you might even stumble upon some of the farms that you buy from at your local farmer's market here in the city. For sale this week by the roadside? Juicy peaches and nectarines. Perfect snacks for thirsty cyclists.

Something cultivated

Not.


Cultivated.

And some things not from travels today. (Hudson to Saratoga) There's slow food. This is slow travel. Two wheels and what's roadside for entertainment. There's enough to see to fill the day and then some.

Not.

Things Passed Along the Way

I garden in an abandoned airport in New York City with a little slice carved out for a thriving community garden and my bicycle is my transport to this slice of heaven. Yesterday, these are a few things I passed along the way:

A syprhid fly, a great masquerader. I swear I see more flies on flowers than bees, but lately all the species I see, whether fly, bee or moth, look like they're sporting cool sunglasses. It is New York City afterall, maybe they feel the pressure to be cool or maybe it's just part of their disguise.

Queen Anne's Lace, the current dominant weedflower (wildflower, I guess it's how you define it) lining the sides of the roads and something that's a getting a lot closer to prairie than pavement at old Floyd Bennett airfield.

And Linaria vulgaris (Butter and Eggs), a first time identification for me. I've seen it in books before and must have been riding blindly past it for more years than I'd like to admit now, but this year I not only noticed it, but I had a name to give it. And that's just one of the reasons I'm happy that I started growing vegetables and paying attention to plants. Now I have a name for the things I pass along the way while riding my bicycle. It's downright orienting.

Blinded Sphinx Moth and a Bridge Crossed

Blinded Sphinx Moth

You don't have to ride your bike to Bear Mountain to be wowed by the sighting of a spectacular moth (Paonias excaecatus), but there's a high that comes with a certain kind of physical exertion and being in a spectacular place with beautiful people that makes you appreciate the little things all the more. Anne and Mike got married. We rode our bikes to Bear Mountain to celebrate with them and inadvertently did a little hop on the Appalachian trail when we crossed the Bear Mountain Bridge. Supersweet.

Update: I had to update this post because originally I thought this moth was a One-Eyed Sphinx. The species look so similar. Now I think it is the Blinded Sphinx Moth because there is no black spot in the eye. Thanks bugguide.net for the distinguishing features.

Bear Mountain Bridge, cyclists can ride with traffic here

If You Can't Beat Them

If you can't beat them, enjoy them
The link goes to today's NYBGtumblr post, (that's the New York Botanical Garden in case you like me are often confused by abbreviations) which gave a little shoutout to my post about weeds in a vase on the window sill. Sweet. I don't know what to say. I'm flattered that this amazing institution (or rather someone working there) found their way to this little site of mine. And since I've never done a post without a picture, to celebrate, here's a picture of a flowering weed spotted today and a pollinator, who also seemed to enjoy it.












The weed is Potentilla recta, or at least that's the closest I could get to ID'ing it. The pollinator? A bee mimic. Some kind of hover fly, maybe a Sphaerophoria species. The fly is probably cooler than the plant because not only is it a pollinator disguised as another pollinator, its larvae also feeds on aphids. Or so I read on Bugguide.net. At least I can say with some confidence that I think it's a Syrphid Fly. I've said it before, but it's worth saying again. You never know what you're going to discover on bike rides down to the community garden at Floyd Bennett Field, but you know what? There's always something worth seeing.
Thanks NYBG Tumblr. You made my day.

Tomato Transport

You have to get creative if you want your tomato seedlings to survive a bike ride on Brooklyn's streets down to the community garden at Floyd Bennett. Luckily, Joe came up with the solution of wrapping them in newspaper like a florist so they wouldn't get too bashed around in my paniers. It worked this time. In a couple of months we'll see if we can get those Brandywines home intact too. I'll usually wrap them in a shirt or newspaper or whatever I have so they don't get too smashed up during the ride, but inevitably some become the victims of a new york city street pothole or crack. Of course on a larger scale, the challenges of transporting produce and the solutions that industrial agriculture have come up with have had enormous impacts on the vegetables we eat today, and what they look, feel and taste like. The difficulty of transportation is not the only reason those tasty Brandywines aren't the staple of every supermarket, but it's one of them. All the more reason to grow them close to home.

Riding into the Wind

down to my own garden down at Floyd Bennett after work tonight to check out the latest happenings was kind of necessary. I've been spending so much time in other people's gardens at work that I felt a little like I'd abandoned my own and was missing out on the the joy that comes from observing the small changes in a garden that you know well. Tonight was the first time I got to see the tulips blooming that survived the transplant from Brooklyn Botanic's tulip display last spring and was happy to see two of my favorites above. The one pictured below is a surprise to me. I may have gotten it from propagation class. Or perhaps it came home with me when planting the tulip display at Brooklyn Botanic in the fall. Either way it was fall planted in the evening after work and one of the pleasures of the garden this year has been discovering where exactly I threw all the bulbs in. Never mind that the first year I gardened, I drew a map of every pea planted.





































There are some lilies pushing up too. And the chives are getting themselves ready to do their purple-flowering thing. You know when you ride into the wind on your way out, you get pushed all the way home, which is always nice.

Laps Among Early Bloomers of Prospect Park

Male flowers on a Red Maple, me thinks.

Among the yellow haze of the blooming Cornelian Dogwoods and the bright Red Maples flowering in Prosect Park, there were some salmon blooms. I first thought perhaps it was a different early-flowering maple, but now I think it might be a Red Maple with all male flowers. Apparently, the Red Maple is polygamo-dioecious (say that three times fast), with some trees bearing only male or female flowers (dioecious) and some trees bearing flowers of both sexes (monoecious). I see only anthers on the flowers on the tree pictured above and below, so I'm pretty sure it's a tree with only male flowers, but I'm not sure that it's a Red Maple. Maybe there's a Pink Maple (nah) or perhaps it's a Silver Maple, which also blooms early and flowers like the Red Maple.





The other sightings on a crisp-weathered bike ride were the yellow blooms of the Cornelian Dogwood in closeup above and one of the first Magnolias in the park to bloom below. (There was one flower completely open at the top of the Magnolia and if you look closely at the picture below, you can see the hint of white in another just beginning to open.) I seem to remember seeing a Magnolia on the east side of the park blooming just a bit earlier than some of the others last year.

Fair Weather, Flat Tire

A small grove of pines, near the top of the hill, Prospect Park loop

Cycling and gardening are different pursuits, but they share some things in common. If you ride a bicycle or tend a garden pretty quickly you will begin to wonder how anyone can refer to talk about the weather as small talk. Rain, the threat of or the lack of, will seem ridiculously important. You will come to know which direction the wind blows. Your eyes will pay attention to small details, sparks of light in the shards of glass on the pavement or tiny yellow eggs on the underside of leaves. You will have to learn to adapt your plans to the whims of the weather, small rodents (well, that's only gardening, rodents are pretty inconsequential when it comes to cycling) and luck. Sometimes you get lucky. You catch all the eggs and save your eggplant from the dreaded Colorado Potato Beetle infestation. And sometimes you ride over the glass and get a flat coming up the hill in Prospect Park. You will just have to dismount between a small grove of Pines and a Beech with some leaves still hanging on, catching the winter sun. That's the way it goes.


Beech leaves in the winter sun.


With both pursuits you will mark the seasons in a personal way (your first tomato, your first spring century), you will reap the rewards of the hard work of spring in August, and you will come to know the place where you are more intimately. You will probably remember the great days in each season of the year and you will consider yourself lucky to have spent some of the minutes of them outside pursuing something you love. For me 2011 felt like it started today; with the mild temperature, streets cleared of snow, my first bike ride in the park, the hints of pink in the leaf buds of a Beech, and the first white blooms of the year spotted on the slow jog home.


First Snowdrops blooming, Eastern Parkway.

When it finally rains in early Fall

It pours. When it rains and pours and I don't get down to my garden for most of the week, I end up with an oversized zuchinni and cracked tomatoes. I should be happy though because this second sowing of zuchinni went in a bit late and this early cool spell might finish it off. This monster might be all the plant has a chance to produce and the cracked tomatoes will make a good sauce for it. This is a lucky time, when things that produce a meal are ripe at the same time, like tomatoes, peppers, fall lettuce and a late cucumber.

Jewelweed, Alley Pond Park

Impatiens capensis growing in Alley Pond Park near what remains of the Old Vanderbilt Motor Parkway or Long Island Motor Parkway. It made me feel like I was biking through the Native Flora Garden. It's kind of funny that the remaining stretch of this parkway, built by Vanderbilt for cars exclusively in the early 1900's, is now a pretty sweet bike/pedestrian path.

Cycling and ID'ing in Prospect Park

One of my favorites. Sweetgum, Liquidambar styraciflua, near the hill by zoo.





















A witchhazel, Hamemelis, not sure of species, near zoo fence and sweetgum. I know there's some Hammemelis virginiana on the other side of the road. I saw it blooming last November.





















Liriodendrum tulipifera, Tulip Tree. This one is on the west loop. I saw it blooming this year on May 10. There are a number of beautiful ones in the park.
















Eastern Redbud, Cercis canadensis, top of hill above lawn. There are a few scattered throughout the park.

Also seen: Dawn Redwood, Metasequoia glyptostroboides near bottom of loop near pond. Various Yellowoods, Cladrastis kentukea which were in bloom here on May 15. Horsechestnut at bottom of loop, Oxydendrum aroboreum on east end behind the lawn they play soccer on and Kwanzan cherries at Grand Army Plaza Entrance. I think there's a Cryptomeria japonica here at the entrance too. At least that's what it looked like to me. I guess sometimes cycling is about horticulture. It was last night.