from the hedgerow

Thus far it has been a mild winter and the diminutive popcorn-like buds of the winter honeysuckle ( Lonicera fragrantissima ...notice how this one gets 'fragrance' in it's name!) are popping open 2 months early. One little shrub will waft across an open expanse and hook your olfactory nerve endings before you get a complete thought in your head. It's on the tip of my tongue to go ahead and declare I prefer this one over the rampant viney one that opens later in spring and engulfs trees and sheds (not a complaint out of my mouth) but to be fair I should wait until I have them both at my nose.

This little one blooming now is a mannerly shrub although I do notice the birds have spread it around nicely, at least in this corner of the world; Piedmont NC. In fact, everything about this one is more mannerly...may I say 'well-bred' ? It lacks the backnote of 'cream' which lends its viney cousin a sultry, if not wanton scent nor does it stoop to exuding and dripping  its nectar by the drop onto your tongue.

 It's too high class for subterfuge; It carries the clear note of muguet.

(I stand a good chance of being two-faced later in the spring 

when the viney one opens)

                                                                                  

plant hunting at high speeds

Looking for a specific plant at 55 mph on a country back road where it's hard to pull over is an exciting challenge in December, especially as  most plants have given up their tall flower stalks. Recognizing plant communities is the key and when I started seeing the thick felted leaves of Mullen and and scraggly Goldenrod, I knew the one-inch high, emerald green rosettes of Evening Primrose would be in the gang. This sport of mine makes my husband nervous as I have little compunction on the rules of where to make a shoulder for myself and pull over.  After zooming past a mile or so of plant groups (but slowing down enough to irritate the drivers on my tail) I found a wide enough spot to relax him.

As I step out of the car the sound of cattle lowing reaches my ears and distant, repeated riffle shots. Yes, we are out in the country. I walk back and search the ground and it's like my whole energy field is vibrating & open to receive one signal; but my heart still takes a little leap when my eyes find the familiar circle of leaves. All of me smiles.
I cajole three pups into the trunk of my car to take home and release into the yard.

Next summer they will grow tall and sometime in August I'll start harvesting the flowers. Despite the name, for me this will be an early morning task. I'll take them back up to the kitchen, grind them with a little salt in the mortar and pestle and save them in a glass jar in the fridge until I have enough to distill into Evening Primrose Flower Water. My skin has never felt anything like it. Soft soft soft with a sheer electrical aliveness. Well worth my troubles, which are in reality, my joys.