I spent this morning working in my yard. My wrists
and fingers are now stiff and the palm of my right hand has a large flat
blister from the handle of my weeding tool. Every year I think I should have
fewer weeds since I work so diligently to rid my yard of the annoying vegetation
throughout the growing season, but each spring I find a bumper crop of unwanted
plants in my garden, beds, and lawn. As I was bending over a patch of green in
my garden, I suddenly recognized the shape and pattern of the leaves of a six-inch-high
seedling and I paused with my weeding tool poised in midair. Should I leave it
and allow it to grow or yank the sucker out?
My
friend, Lynette Hepworth, and I had a fort in a canal south of my house where
the milkweed grew along the ditch bank and corral fence. In early June the
milkweed began to flower with big pinkish purple globes made up of smaller,
individual flowers which attracted bees and butterflies. A few weeks later we would
notice striped caterpillars growing fatter and longer as they feasted on the
large fuzzy leaves. As the weather heated up, some of the chewed leaves sported
green chrysalises hanging from them which eventually opened to reveal bright
orange butterflies. We felt like entomologists as we witnessed the metamorphic
stages of the Monarch within the realm of our fortress.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkHFaKQconX45Q7te9bmp_PLGJ4yYcJ5B6IXDOlkkB24RzabqQSeDKJA2EVB3APM9T2Sel42x-XKQmWLdaheLvQBF7z1Mwb5PKmPNTP575CuB8OwUAYU3zSobJR7JAUfUZ1xUCparm75A/s320/Milkweed-butterfly.jpg)
Butterflies
love the common milkweed. That is one reason I considered leaving the plantlet
to grown amongst my tomatoes and cantaloupe, but a second reason was the memory
of how creative Lynette and I were with the milkweed plants in our ditch all
those years ago. We discovered the milky-like latex substance running through
the vascular tissue of the milkweed is a useful glue. Breaking a stock gave us
enough sticky white sap to affix our artwork and notes to the trees and fence posts along
the edges of our fort. As the milkweed continued to mature, the seed pods grew
larger in size and developed thicker walls.
Split pods functioned as cups for sand, pebbles, and small shells we
found in the ditch. We had quite an assortment of pods lining the ditch bank
filled with our collections. The most wonderful thing about milkweed was the
fluffy fibers attached to the seeds. Hours were spent splitting open the pods,
allowing the fuzz to dry and then setting the silky stuff free on the breeze.
We made up stories about princesses in ball gowns, raging snowstorms, billowing
clouds, and downy kittens and puppies while propelling milkweed seeds from our hands. It was more fun
than blowing bubbles as we watched the milkweed fluff float away. Lynette and I
are probably responsible for propagating a milkweed explosion across Millard
County that causes problems for ranchers and farmers to this very day. Perhaps
the sprout I found this morning here in Weber County is a descendant of a
milkweed that grew in Hinckley more than forty years ago…
These
thoughts and memories flashed through my mind as I stood over a volunteer plant
rooted in my garden. Somehow the common milkweed didn't seem quite so common at
that moment.
2 comments:
Ah yes! The milkweed, haven't seen one for years :)
And the next time my children wonder what we did without video games and the like . . . I'll read them this post . . . what we could do with just the environment around us!
You reminded me why my fingers hurt today, I was wondering what I did to them and had completely forgotten my diggings in my yard the other day, mystery solved!
I wonder if I'd recognize a milkweed if I saw one.
Love the Monarch butterflies...the elementary school my kids all went to , their mascot was "THE MONARCHS"
Weeding is such a chore. We havent even begun to "establish" our garden and flower beds around here yet.
We thought we'd get the garden in, then hubby broke his arm.
dang
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