Click on the photos to enlarge them
A walk in the woods yesterday revealed mostly grays and browns, as would be expected in mid-February. But the ground ivy (or Gill-over-the-ground or Creeping Charlie) was showing off its first leaves. Charlie says, “Who cares if it’s 32 degrees out here—I want to photosynthesize!” Some photographic trickery reveals the intricacy of the leaf’s vascular system and even individual cells, if you look closely.
Meanwhile, the saprophytic fungi can’t, or care not to photosynthesize, preferring to dine from a fallen tree, their hyphae secreting enzymes to digest their meal extramurally. Recycling is their business.
Last year’s grasses, sere and broken, in sun and shadow, exhibit a palette of ecru, coffee, ochre, umber—you name the brown—it’s there.
Meanwhile, the saprophytic fungi can’t, or care not to photosynthesize, preferring to dine from a fallen tree, their hyphae secreting enzymes to digest their meal extramurally. Recycling is their business.
Last year’s grasses, sere and broken, in sun and shadow, exhibit a palette of ecru, coffee, ochre, umber—you name the brown—it’s there.
The walk, the close observation, the photographing, the reflection, all make me think of Edwin Way Teale, the writer who stirred my fascination with nature in my boyhood days. Wish I could find my copy of Circle of the Seasons. Maybe it’s off to Amazon.com in search of a replacement.