Dance of the Bagworms

May 9, 2025

On a warm Spring morning, wandering around a grove of American Sycamore, I became curious about these magnificent trees: where in the US are they native; why are some leaves larger than the palm of my hand and some half the size; what about those odd pingpong sized seedballs lying on the ground everywhere you look ….. why don’t they roll away in search of an ideal spot to pop open so the seeds can germinate …… when the seedballs are kicked, stepped on or crushed beneath a car tire, do the 1,000’s of seeds inside blow away to sprout ….. are the seeds (all or some of them) even viable ….. do the seedballs make a good ink or dye or maybe they’re edible or even medicinal……. what, if any wildlife species eat the seedballs or seeds; and ooooohhhhhhh, sycamore bark! Why does this tree’s bark flaunt a pastel palette of greens, yellows and pinks. These and many more questions came to mind that it seemed about time the American Sycamore became a subject for my nature journal, until ……………..

There! In the tree above my head, I spotted a most curious thing. Parting a few of that sycamore’s beautiful Spring green palmate-shaped leaves was a bundle of dead brown and beige leafy bits and sticks all haphazardly glued together. Wishing to get a closer look at that elongated ornament shaped “thing,” I found it was securely suspended from a branch. Trying to puzzle out this fascinating mystery while searching for my pen knife, a stiff breeze blew through the tree. It was then a I noticed hundreds of those 2-3” long bundles all over the tree; from the base to its crown!

Curiosity is the Essence of Nature Journaling

What continues to draw me to nature and nature journaling after so many years are the surprises in the familiar and in the unknown. I know well enough that new encounters in nature are infinite; you just have to open your eyes and look.  Having learned by carefully observing what appears to be familiar, often leads to new discoveries. That’s when my curiosity kicks into high gear ….. when it’s time to engage in some serious poking around to figure something out; to learn what the “thing” is. 

Curiosity, for me, is the very heart and soul of nature journaling. The ‘art’ of curiosity even precedes skill in observation. It’s what drives me out the door in the morning and fuels my exploration. Curiosity fills the mind with countless questions if for no other reason but to develop a deeper understanding of the natural world. 

But I “wax philosophical.” Needless to say, my curious discovery on that warm and breezy Spring morning prompted an abrupt change of mind for my next blog post (this post). Anxious to learn about the “thing” suspended from a tree branch, probably minding its own business, I proceeded to cut it down (along with two more) and popped them in a bag along with a few sycamore leaves and seedballs.

Later that same day …….

Upon completing my journal sketches of sycamore leaves and seedballs, and posting a few photos to iNaturalist for an initial ID, it was time to take a closer look at my discovery. Reaching into the bag for one of the “things” (wiping my hand free of spider webbing?), I placed it on my examination table surrounded by several hand lenses, a larger magnifying glass, a penknife, and 2 pairs of tweezers. Before beginning the dissection, I noticed about a dozen black pepper-sized bits moving about the “thing.” Thinking tiny spiders had come from the bag, I didn’t give them a second thought (should’ve been curious!).

This bagworm bag was the subject of my dissection. Notice the pepper-sized black dots next to the bag ….. those are wiggling 1st instar larva.

iNaturalist ID Pick :::::::::::::: BAGWORM MOTH ::::::::::::::: iNaturalist ID Pick

(awaiting genus/species ID)

A Bagworm Moth!

How cool is that!?!

The opened bag of a female Bagworm moth. She’s very dead, but her progeny are escaping as fast as they can.

Dissection resumes ……

After finding out the “thing” I’ve been pondering over is the Bag of a bagworm moth, I learned the Bag was built during last Spring, Summer and Fall by either a male or female bagworm moth. If a male, the Bag would be empty; if a female, the Bag would contain her remains …. she would’ve died last fall after a male fertilized 500-1,000+ eggs she overwintered inside her body until Spring when newly-hatched larvae would emerge from the bottom of the Bag and begin the species’ life cycle all over again.

The Bag, that took about 10 minutes and all my dissection tools to open, contained the black and mushy remains of a female and 100’s of wiggling/dancing larvae! They were on the move; escaping from the now wide open Bag, and quickly covering my examination table like a pepper grinder out of control.

And my effort to open the Bag? This made sense after reading about the high tensile strength of the silk they produce. These thin strands of silk, 10x stronger than that produced by silkworms, is used in abundance to construct their Bags.

The coolest thing ever! Notice the either late 2nd or early 3rd instar larva, no longer naked, but swaddled in very chewed up leafy bits glued together with strong silk. This dude was hiking up a sycamore branch, continually chewing, wiggling, and gluing.

After disposing of all the naked 1st instar larvae waggling and dancing across my examination table, I placed the dissected Bag, the two whole Bags, and collected leaf material into a clear plastic ziplock to observe what would happen. Over 10 days, the number of larvae multiplied and the naked 1st instar caterpillars grew in size (at least to 2nd instar) while building their individual Bags from tiny bits of leaf litter! Their wiggling dance seemed to be the way their silk strands wrapped and secured leafy bits around their bodies. It’s been fun to watch all the activity.

Have you ever encountered one or more of the 1,350+ species of bagworm moths? What materials were their Bags made from? Please share your experience with these fascinating members of the butterfly/moth family of insects.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

A Honey of a Prize!

Meet the Honeydew Gall-Wasp Gall

April 4, 2025

It’s Spring

When the urge to nature journal is too hard to resist, but everything around you is still brown, crispy and covered in dust, I begin looking for any curious phenomena suitable for rabbit trailing (even rabbit tracks work!). The other day while hiking a steep hill, I was looking for sign the oaks were close to breaking bud. Spotting a string of little dark red beady objects lining many of the mostly leafless stems of am oak was certainly encouraging. From a distance they appeared to be swelling leaf buds; at least their color seemed right. But an up-close inspection revealed my hopeful find as last December’s vacated “homes” occupied by oak gall wasp larvae. Having never seen this species of stem gall before, naturally this would be a perfect most curious phenomenon to tackle. And that’s just what I did!

The Honeydew Gall-Wasp Gall

Arriving back home with a small collection of oak stems crowded with tightly packed galls (resembling miniature bread loaves), my work began. Assuming the host oak was a Gambel’s (Quercus gambelii), I began my search of stems galls on that species. Carefully scouring the literature the genus appeared to be Disholcaspis, but none of the species seemed a good match. So after many days in quandary, I consulted my favorite oak gall ID specialist, firing off a lot of questions, written descriptions and photos. Patiently awaiting his reply, I continued to find more resources to review. Gall wasps have a complex life cycle, and their galls are a challenge to identify. 

After 2 weeks a welcome reply arrived from the specialist.  Boy did I feel silly, knowing I should’ve known better! The oak host was not a Gambel’s but a cross between Gambel’s and Shrub Live Oak (Q. turbinella) which produces a hybrid called Wavyleaf oak (Quercus x undulata). Correcting my mistake was key to identifying the stem gall! Picky little wasps, huh? Happy the specialist agreed the genus is Disholcaspis, the obvious species responsible for the gall was turned out to be D. spissa; the Honeydew Gall-Wasp ….. making my discovery the Honeydew Gall-Wasp Gall!

Lesson Relearned  

When nature journaling, despite how excited you may be to find answers, it’s always, always best to slow down, breathe, carefully observe, ponder, question, make connections, and enjoy the journey ahead of the destination! 

Some Gall Descriptions and A Prize!

Outside appearance: Young galls of this wasp are yellowish and hairy. Mature galls have beige-brown to weathered grey sides, are black on top, and have a dull matte surface. They can have a round to ovoid to a rectangular ‘bread-loaf’ like shape. Texture appears mealy-granular. Galls sit snugly directly on the stems (sessile), and singly or in clusters of long compact chains that form all around the stems of host oak species. 

Inside the gall and back outside again: Each gall has one thin walled cell or chamber (known as monothalamous) that sits above the bottom of the gall. This is the larval chamber and is imbedded in dense cellular tissue that becomes a pulpy flesh with age. While the larvae are actively feeding and growing, they produce a copious amount of sticky-sweet honeydew that accumulates on the top of the gall. All of this honeydew attracts hordes of hungry ants and yellowjackets. The ecological importance of these secretions is unmistakeable; it provides a high energy food source for the insects. And while the ants and yellowjackets feed, they inadvertently protect the gall, like little bodyguards, from parasites and predators intent on infecting or eating the growing larvae inside. And another interesting ecological thing ….. the reason the tops of the galls are black and not the same color as their sides, has to do with a fungus called black sooty mold. The sugary secretions produced by the larvae accumulate in quantities too irresistible to the sooty mold. Colonies of the fungus develop rapidly on the honeydew giving the gall tops a dusty or powdery black color. So honeydew is the perfect medium for black sooty mold to complete its life cycle.

What about that Prize? Read on to learn more! Close-up inspection of the galls I collected, and there were about 25, revealed all but one had a single exit hole in a side just below its crusty red-black top. I learned the adult wasps emerge from these stem galls by late December; sometimes waiting for warmish temps until mid January. What happened to the adult wasps in the one gall without an exit hole? Because the gall had a sooty top, implying the larvae had been eating, growing and secreting honeydew, maybe the larvae died at some point or failed to develop into an adult? Had to know! Cutting the gall to find out wasn’t easy. The outer crust fell away first, then using steady knife pressure on the punky innards, the gall popped open, like a box of ‘Cracker Jacks!’ And there, near the bottom of the package, was a single sealed chamber. Carefully I was able to tease out the contents with fine pointed tweezers until out blurped the Prize! An intact cream colored gooey looking larvae, followed by a small puddle of viscous liquid. Even though the larvae filled up most of the chamber, there wasn’t any sign it was alive. And after an hour, when there still wasn’t any movement …. well, darn, I felt he must’ve died sometime before morphing into adult form. But peeking inside the gall did answer the question about the absence of an exterior exit hole.

And now an interesting note about these types of cynipid oak gall wasps: On my diagram, I used the term ‘agamic’ which is a formal label included with the genus/species name (i.e. Disholcaspis spissa ‘agamic’). This means these wasps have an asexual all female population that emerges from galls in late fall/early winter to lay fertilized eggs without needing to mate with males. Then a bisexual generation follows where adults emerge from galls in late winter/spring/early summer. This is the typical 2 generation annual life cycle of cynipid gall wasps, where the galls developed from each generation usually look very different and even occur on different parts of the host plant (on stems vs leaves). It’s interesting that nothing is known about the bisexual generation of D. spissa, but the asexual generation is common, well documented and abundant.

Known host oak species for D. spissa: Look for these galls on Shrub live oak (Quercus turbinella), Wavyleaf oak (Quercus x undulata), Mexican blue oak (Q. oblongifolia), Arizona white oak (Q. arizonica), and Shinnery oak (Q. havardi). 

******************************************************************************************

Hope you found my post interesting. Have you ever been curious enough about plant galls to look inside? Recalling the first time I saw a gall, I had no clue what it was and why it was precariously clinging to a plant leaf. It was round and hard, and reminded me of a tiny rusty red ping-pong ball. Was there something inside? Would it be squishy, alive, have teeth and bite, or perhaps whatever it was was dead and oh so smelly? Maybe it was some weird kind of flower bud, or a fruit lost under the leaf? Despite being a bit nervous, I needed to know what, if anything was inside. So I cut it in half, and in the center of the ball, suspended on hundreds of delicate threads, was a tiny, wormy creature twisting and turning and wriggling to music only it could hear! That was over 45 years ago, and to this day I still find galls irresistible!

As always, thanks for stopping by!

A Few References

Russo, Ronald A.: (2021) Plant Galls of the Western United States, section on tree galls; oak galls of the SW, page 173. 

Weld, LH: (1957) New American Cynipid Wasps From Oak Galls https://www.gallformers.org/gall/948

Winter Botany: Horsetail Milkweed

February 1, 2025

Wandering about the neighborhood one warm summer morning in 2018, I noticed a dense stand of plants lining a 20 foot section of road. What caught my eye were the umbrella-like clusters of pearly white flowers topping each slender stem. From a distance these plants resembled our native white-flowering yarrow. But I soon realized the narrow dark green leaves were not fuzzy; the tiny exotic-looking flowers were not daisy shaped. Unmistakably, this plant was a species of milkweed! And the flowers of more than 50 individual plants in this population were a-flutter and a-buzz and a-crawling with hungry insects!

What was this milkweed species?

This is the Winter Botany portion of this post. All that remains of last summer’s Horsetail Milkweed are stems and mostly empty seed pods clinging to short branches. But some of the seed pods still hold silky tailed seeds clinging to their open pods. Hundreds of seed pods line the roadways in our neighborhood.

It didn’t take long to confirm this plant as Horsetail Milkweed (Asclepias subverticillata), a species commonly found along roadsides in pinyon-juniper woodlands. Knowing what to look for on future walks, over the next several years I was excited to find 30+ more populations of various sizes along neighborhood roadways! From 2018 until early summer 2024, I continued to monitor these seemingly abundant populations. The small numbers of seeds I collected in the Fall were planted in our yard, and every year I checked for the presence, variety and numbers of insects busy feeding on nectar as they pollinated the flowers.  

During June 2024, when we moved only a few miles to the northeast, I was happy to see Horsetail Milkweed grew abundantly in our new subdivision. This prompted me to dig deeper into researching this species. Its been exciting to discover how important this milkweed is to native insects, including monarch and queen butterflies.

Photo (mine) taken in July 2022 of a blooming Horsetail Milkweed being enjoyed by a feeding wasp.

According to pollination ecologists, Horsetail Milkweed is especially valuable to large numbers of native bees. This plant species also supports conservation biological control by attracting predatory or parasitoid insects that prey upon pest insects. 

And Horsetail Milkweed is one of the favorite host plants for monarch and queen butterflies, all because it’s toxic!  Producing an especially nasty tasting and potent neurotoxin strong enough to kill livestock, the caterpillars of these two butterflies have evolved to benefit from such a poisonous substance. Voraciously ingesting a diet of only milkweed leaves, obviously tasty to the larvae, makes them unpalatable to would-be predators, such as birds. The toxin from milkweed leaves has become their primary means of defense; definitely a benefit for such chubby, slow little caterpillars.

Monarch caterpillar (source: open commons)

Although central New Mexico isn’t in any of the major migratory routes of these butterflies, I have observed both species in our previous neighborhood. Since learning more about Horsetail Milkweed and it’s favored roadside habitat close to home, my hope is to provide actively growing plants throughout the summer (a safe distance away from roadside easements) for both the monarch and queen adult butterflies and their caterpillars ……. especially important when governing covenants of our previous and new subdivisions require the roadways be groomed (mowed down like a butch haircut!) on a monthly basis by subdivision landscape crews. 

Because milkweeds are among my favorite of all plant species, mainly due to their complex flowers and the clever trickery they’ve developed to ensure pollination, I wrote about and illustrated two in-depth blog posts on this subject. Believe me when I say,  “It’s overboard fascinating!”

Check out the following posts …..

Surprise! A vine-y, twine-y desert milkweed discovery from July 2024, where I revisit milkweed flower structure and pollination and learn about a new-to-me genus, Funastrum.

Summer Botany: Meet the Milkweeds from July 2022. This is my first comprehensive look at milkweed flower structure, how pollination takes place, and the genus Asclepias.

Read on to learn more botanical information about Horsetail Milkweed AND how to find out if you live in Spring and/or the Fall Migration routes of the monarch butterfly AND where queen butterflies migrate to and from. 

Characteristics and habitat requirements of Horsetail Milkweed

Horsetail Milkweed is a perennial species with a stout, woody rootstock. Plants readily spread by rhizomes (underground stems) producing dense communities. Cold-hardy to at least 0℉, this milkweed bounces right back in the Spring. Plants are also drought-tolerant once established, thriving in well-drained, sandy soil under full to partial sun.

Able to thrive in a variety of habitats and plant communities from 2500 – 8000 feet in elevation, Horsetail Milkweed grows among grasses, on sandy or rocky flats, on slopes, roadsides, and along trails in Chaparral, Semidesert Grasslands, Pinyon-Juniper Woodlands, Montane Conifer Forests, and in disturbed areas.

All of these characteristics and its adaptability to a wide range of habitats make Horsetail Milkweed one of the easiest milkweed species to grow.

Monarch butterfly (source: open commons)

Monarch Butterfly

To learn if you live within the path of or close to spring and/or fall monarch butterfly migration routes, you can view a map or these route here:

https://www.monarchwatch.org/

Queen butterfly (source: open commons)

Queen Butterfly

The queen is chiefly a tropical species. In the US, it is usually confined to the southern portion of the country. It can be found regularly in peninsular Florida and southern Georgia, as well as in the southern portions of Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California. Occasionally, the subspecies of the queen can be found somewhat north, in Kansas, Colorado and Utah. 

Queen butterflies do not migrate as dramatically as monarch butterflies, but they do move short distances in tropical regions with dry seasons to higher elevations.

Queen caterpillar (source: open commons)

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Pick Me! Pick Me!

January 20, 2025

Winter can be challenging for nature journalers. Getting outside when it’s cold and windy, cloudy and dreary, snowy, icy or wet, are not ideal weather under any circumstances.  And when everything looks brown and crispy and pretty much the same, the challenge to nature journal in the great outdoors grows exponentially. While these conditions make it difficult for spontaneous observing, I try to remember there’s always something remarkable to be discovered in nature, even in winter.

 Who knew a little whack on the head would be just the thing to reawaken my curiosity?

Bundled in layers, leash in hand, Luna led me on her early morning walk around suburban Albuquerque. Having been along this route before, we’ve both made some interesting discoveries in the past.  And as usual, this time was no exception for Luna. For me though, everything appeared brown, crispy and familiar. But I was inspired by  and enjoying Luna’s sense of curiosity, and her encouraging tug on the leash. 

Nearing the end of our 2-1/2 mile walk, and mightily concerned I’d go home empty handed, we turned our last corner. It wasn’t 100 feet down the cement block-lined sidewalk that I abruptly stopped in my tracks. Something had lightly whacked me in the head! While the sound of rhythmic clacking rang out, I looked up, and to my surprise spotted the accidental assailant. Draped over the 6 foot wall, suspended from a hearty Trumpet Vine (Campsis radicans) growing in the hidden yard beyond was a string of pods resembling brown green beans. Long and plump and full of seeds, one of these pods had reached down low enough to make contact with to my head. (I say “reached” because that’s what my imagination said had happened.) Quickly awaking my sleepwalking brain, the effort made by the seed pod to get my attention paid off too. Silently whispering, “Pick me! Pick me!” it was as if the seed pod and its adjacent buddies either wanted to be harvested, or wanted to be featured in my nature journal (or both). 

So I did ………… both!

I loved learning about and sketching these fascinating Trumpet Vine seed pods, while my mind was filled with the muffled notes of a trumpet. Tooo-too-too-toooooom!

Hope you enjoyed reading this story and browsing around my journal pages.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Nature’s Colorful Fall Patchwork ….. The Beauty of Gambel Oak Leaves

November 12, 2024

It’s late October, mid-Fall in the Manzano Mountains, perhaps a week before the first snow of the season. The Gambel Oak covering hillsides and mountains somehow sense a change in the air.  Seemingly overnight every leaf on every oak shrub and tree magically transformed from their summer greens to royal rusty reds, gleaming golden yellows, and shocking sunset oranges. As I look across the landscape and marvel at the sight, I can’t help wondering, “How do they know?”

The spectacle is short lived. Over the next few weeks, these gorgeously painted leaves slowly change to crispy beige brown, fooling the observer into believing they can’t face another winter; that every single oak shrub and tree just gave up and died! Thinking that was the case my first winter in central New Mexico, I was fooled. But since then I’ve learned a lot about the life cycle of Gambel Oak, and have come to appreciate the persistence of all those crispy browns covering up the otherwise barren nakedness of chaotically jumbled branches. 

There’s a lot that can be said about Gambel Oak (Quercus gambelii), but this post focuses on

The Leaves of Quercus gambelii 

The most interesting thing about this oak species’ leaves is no two are alike. Even though each leaf looks different from its neighbor, they do all have common characteristics that distinguish its leaves from other oak species. For example, All Gambel Oak Leaves …….

  • are lobed (but the number of lobes varies from side-to-side of a leaf’s mid-vein; depth of lobes varies on a single leaf and between leaves; lobes can be gently concave to acutely angled).
  • are flat and leaf margins are smooth (if leaves appear somewhat wavy and/or exhibit some serrated margins and/or points on the lobe tips, this is not a true Q. gambelii, but likely a hybrid of Gambel Oak and Shrub Live Oak (Q. turbinella) resulting in Wavyleaf Oak (Q. undulata), very common where ranges converge). 
  • are different lengths and widths, and leaf sizes are random along each branch, with large leaves adjacent to small ones adjacent to tiny ones adjacent to gigantic ones, etc.
  • change color in the Fall, eventually becoming beige brown and crispy (but color patterns on individual leaves and throughout a shrub/tree are wildly various; some leaves turn one color, while others become a mixture of greens, reds, yellows and/or oranges).
  • that are brown/crispy persist on the shrubs/trees throughout late Fall and Winter, then drop all at the same time in Spring when buds begin to open.
  • that are fresh have little 5-star hairs on the undersides, while the upper surface is smooth and leathery.
  • are relatively free of insect damage, with the exception of the occasional oak gall or insect nibbles (perhaps due to their leathery texture on the upper surface and hairy texture on the undersides?).

Every Fall I observe and collect Gambel Oak leaves. They make great subjects for my nature journal! Because every leaf looks different, the easiest way to depict the various shapes is to trace their outlines directly onto my journal pages. Then with leaves in hand, I can use my Inktense watercolor pencils to paint within the outlines, spending most of my effort on their beautiful colors.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my page of Gambel Oak leaves. Do you share nature with oaks? If so, which species, and are their leaves all the same or different somehow? Do you record your observations in a nature journal too? I’d love to know!

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Surprise! A vine-y, twine-y desert milkweed discovery ……

July 9, 2024

Just when I was feeling confident about the morphology of the milkweed family of plants, a new twist on the familiar leaps out shoutin’ “ Hey, lookie here!”      Expecting to see a common vine gracefully twirling its way up a desert shrub, I paused ……. searching for the crimson red trumpet-shaped flowers of Ipomoea cristulata (Trans-Pecos morning glory). But instead there was an umbrella of 5 flowers, each with 5 widely spreading greenish-brownish-mauve colored petals crowned in the center of an unmistakable floral corona, a sure fire characteristic of a milkweed! Could it be?

Trans-Pecos Morning glory

Oh Yes! 

This unexpected, undeniable discovery had me puzzled though. It’s been two years since I created a detailed post about the Asclepias genus of milkweed (see Summer Botany: Meet the Milkweeds). At that time and throughout the decades prior, my knowledge of milkweeds was limited to Asclepias, and the specific characteristics of that genus. 

Spreading petals of Wavyleaf Twinevine

But here was something new-to-me; so worthy of whatever time it might take to learn all about this find in the dogbane family (Apocynaceae), aka the Milkweeds.  I quickly confirmed this vine does not belong with the Asclepias species of milkweeds, but is of the genus Funastrum, which is Latin for rope (funis) with twining stems (astrum), commonly referred to as the “twinevines.” And the full name of this plant is Funastrum crispum, commonly called Wavyleaf Twinevine.

Most of what I uncovered about Wavyleaf Twinevine is included on my 2 journal pages, along with some confusing taxonomy involving family and subfamily names, tribe and subtribe names, and how until 2012, this plant was known as Sarcostemma crispum. Curiosity about the taxonomic history will undoubtedly tempt me to sort through the confusion ……. maybe someday soon!

Have you discovered anything new-to-you in nature lately? What was it, and did it lease to more discoveries?

Thanks for stopping by!

Mysterious Parking Lot Encounters

May 25, 2024

Accidentally Seeking Landscaping Curiosities

Oops! I was caught without my sketchbook ….. but that didn’t prevent me from making a few interesting collections while waiting for a ride.

My curiosity unleashed, I began by wondering what voracious insect(s) tried to eat 1000x their weight in fresh cottonwood leaves. Then I noticed a very lovely leafy tree growing next to a stately pine, both of which were mysteries to me.

So I spent this afternoon sketching, painting, and looking over ID and reference materials, as much fun as collecting my three parking lot treasures!

If you find yourself “waiting,” how do you pass the time?

Thanks for stopping by!

Rosemary …. Next Up in my Herb Series


April 27, 2024


When trying to pin down exactly what’s so special about Herbs, a deliciously aromatic group of plants, I was stumped.  Well, maybe not stumped, exactly. There are so many reasons to fall in love with Herbs, and picking one feature or even one Herb that’s especially special is nearly impossible. Best known for their culinary flavor enhancements, can you imagine pickles without Dill, pesto without Basil, salsa without Cilantro? What’s a dark chocolate circular pattie without Peppermint, or a cookie cutter man without Ginger?  


Herbs excite memories, calm the mind, reduce inflammation. Does the aroma of sage conjur thoughts of Thanksgiving? Does a sprig of lavender make you sleepy? Does bold yellow turmeric soothe arthritic joints?


And many Herbs are decorative and lovely to look at, form beautiful shrubs, have gorgeous flowers

But I keep coming back to the aroma. It’s hard to resist crushing the leaves of herbs like thyme or mint between my fingers. The essential oils released into the air and lingering on my fingers causes me to take a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance, embedding the aroma in my brain, resulting in a memory I can recall over and over again. 

Herbs are Special!

The Rosemary plant (actually a mini shrub) in my yard always invites my attention, and just this week it welcomed spring by coming into full bloom!

Who remembers this?! Now I can’t get it out of my head!

Do you have a favorite Herb? Why is it special? How do you use it?
Please share! And thanks for stopping by!



February 24th ……….. National “I Hate Coriander” Day!

February 24, 2024

Honest …. You can’t make up this stuff! You’ve got to wonder what the person or persons who began the National social media movement, “I Hate Coriander” Day, have against an innocent little herb.

“National I Hate Coriander Day, celebrated annually on February 24th, is a social media movement to express disdain for the herb coriander (also known as cilantro) and its taste and smell.”

“Hate” is such a strong word under any circumstances, but to “hate” an herb? … What do these Coriander “Haters” find offensive about the look of this bright green leafy plant? What is it about the taste and/or smell of Cilantro that elicits such a strong reaction? Now I’m not a Coriander (aka Cilantro) addict ….. a bit now and then as garnish or to flavor a fresh salsa is perfectly fine with me. I’ve even grown Coriander in my garden and marveled at the plant’s growth rate, intense leaf and stem coloring, bouquets of delicate flowers and abundance of seed. So my curiosity was definitely piqued when I came across this peculiar National Day. Just what is it that has and keeps these people all riled up over Coriander?

Coriander – The Plant

Not to be confusing, but Coriander and Cilantro are actually the same thing, Coriandrum sativum. However, in the U.S. we tend to refer to the leaves and stems as Cilantro; the seeds (whole raw or toasted, or ground) as Coriander. But because the National Day is about hating Coriander, I’ve made a leap in assuming they hate the entire plant, including the roots, stems, leaves, flowers and seeds (all of which are edible; all of which are eaten). 

The plant is an annual that grows up to 20” tall. The bright green leaves are variable in shape, broadly lobed at the base of the plant, and slender and feathery higher on the stems. Flowers are arranged in umbels (like a wind blown, inside-out umbrella), are white to pale pinkish-mauve. Each asymmetrical flower has longer petals pointing away from the center of the umbel than those pointing inwards. And each flower produces a dry globular fruit (schizocarpic cremocarp) about 1/8 – 3/16” diameter, which splits when mature into 2 mericarps, each mericarp with a single seed.

Coriander – The Seed

The name, Coriander, is the common name used around the world, for the seed of Coriandrum sativum. There are two cultivated varieties of Coriandrum sativum grown around the world.  Although the plants of both varieties appears the same, it’s the seed where the visible differences occur.  C. s. var microcarpum is the small-seeded variety found in temperate climates, such as in Europe and the U.S. Its seeds are about 3 mm in diameter, round, and very potent as a spice. C. s. var macrocarpum (aka C. s. var vulgare) is the large-seeded variety found  in hot, subtropical areas of Asia and India. It’s seeds are 5 mm in diameter, football shaped and have a very delicate flavor.

If you’ve ever grown Coriander from seed, you probably planted one seed at a time, being careful to follow the spacing instructions on the package. Then when your seeds germinated, sending up those first immature leaves (cotyledons), you noticed that for each seed planted there are 2 little plants!  “What the heck?” you say. When you sowed the seeds in each well-spaced spot, you obviously planted an entire globular fruit (both mericarps at once) resulting in the germination of both seeds!

Is There a Consensus of Opinions on Leaf Taste and Aroma? 

Nope! Opinions are far from consensual. As a matter of fact, they are frequently polar opposites. Coriander has been described as the “Marmite”*****!!! of herbs; either you love it or hate it. This great analogy reflects how strongly people do feel about flavors of their food. 

Opinions on leaf taste and aroma: The good – tart, lemon-lime, fragrant, pleasant, distinctive, spicy hot, peppery, aromatic.  The bad – bitter, stinky, unpleasant, nasty, fetid. And the bleh – The leaves smell and taste like dish soap!

Is There a Consensus of Opinions on Seed Taste and Aroma? 

Again, Nope! But curiously, most of the opinions about seed taste and aroma were fairly positive, provided the correct variety of C. sativum was properly prepared and used. For example, all seeds contain 1% volatile essential oils, but the quality of oils is different between the two varieties. For some reason the smaller European variety seeds (C. s. var microcarpum) have far superior essential oils resulting in far superior flavor and yield when compared to the larger India variety seed (C. s. var macrocarpum). The larger India variety seeds are preferred as a spice, both whole and ground.

Opinions on taste and aroma of fresh or dried seeds: Spicy, earthy, cumin-like, orange peel, aromatic, dried seeds have full flavor, fresh seeds are undesirable.

Opinions on taste and aroma of toasted seeds++, whole or ground: Fruity, Fruit Loops, lemony, floral, mild perfumy, aromatic, bitingly pungent, delightful bouquet, distinctive flavor.

Now it’s your turn! Where do you stand on the issue of Coriander; it’s taste and smell? Are you celebrating today’s National “I Hate Coriander” Day? Or are you a regular Coriander Connoisseur, savoring the taste, smell and texture in all of your favorite dishes, from sauces and marinades, curries, meats and seafood, stews, to pastries and desserts? 

***!!! Marmite! Invented, made and sold in England, this stuff is a sticky, dark brown paste made from fermented yeast. It has a very salty and powerful (understatement) flavor, and is frequently slathered on toasted breads like jam. If you haven’t experienced Marmite, perhaps you’ve dared to taste its equally unappetizing knockoff, “Vegemite,” found all over Australia? If you’ve tasted either or both (wow, you’re tough), what was your reaction? If you’ve never had the culinary pleasure, consider this fair warning! Wonder if there’s a social media group that’s declared “International I Hate Marmite (Vegemite) Day?” I would happily eat a bushel basket of cilantro greens, than dare give these yeasty products another go. (No offense to the marmite and/or vegemite lovers of the world.)

++Toasting Coriander Seed: In a non-stick skillet, over medium-high heat, add the seeds. Keeping the skillet in constant circular motion. When the seed’s aroma is released, toasting is complete!  Cool completely and grind with mortar/pestle or in a small electric grinder. Store ground coriander in a cool (refrigerated) location, away from light and moisture. It’s best to toast and grind seeds in small amounts, on an as needed basis, to experience the full flavor.





The Forecast: Scattered Green Mixed With Dry Brown Dust

August 6, 2023

Sharing my pages from today’s short hike up Cedro Creek, on the fringes of the Manzano Mountains. The water shortage here and all around us has become dire; soils are cracked and dry and beginning to take flight with the barest puff of wind. 

Since we last hiked this area (a few days shy of a month ago), the scattered shallow pools of water have either evaporated completely or made a retreat underground, where there may be just enough water to wet the riparian area. All the tender flowering plants have disappeared; many have been able to set seed in hopes of a wetter year to come. With this premature wrap up to the summer season, the birds, bees and butterflies have moved on; hopefully up in elevation where food may still be found.

Our summer monsoon season just didn’t materialize (yet?). But despite the hot and dry conditions, we did manage to find a few leafy green shrubs. The massive cottonwoods appear to be doing well (must still be sufficient groundwater). In the cooler parts of the canyon, there are berries hanging on the 2 species of juniper trees. Acorns have begun to mature on several oak species, even though there are many that have withered; is all of this earlier than usual? 

At the trailhead, tucked in a swale where water (when it comes) can collect, I was surprised to see some very stunted smooth sumac. Already showing off their clusters of juicy red berries, the plants are barely a foot tall. This species can rapidly grow to heights of 16 feet. Maybe flowering and fruiting on such short plants is a type of survival mechanism this sumac exhibits when conditions are not favorable? I will be able to watch this little grove over the coming years and maybe answer that question.

Then further up the canyon, about 20-30 feet above the riparian area, Gambel’s and Wavyleaf oaks are growing their acorns. That’s encouraging news for the squirrels who collect and cache them in overwintering nests.

It’s been a challenging year. 

What differences in nature have you been noticing where you live? Do you think our changing climate has played a role in driving the changes? Have you observed not only negative but positive affects? I’d be very interested in knowing!

As always, thanks for following!