Archive for the ‘along the shore’ Category
limits of the tide #4 – Orach (Atriplex patula L.)
Orach (Atriplex patula L.) is a common inhabitant of coastal areas in New Brunswick. It lives in sheltered locations on the upper shore, out of reach of the highest tides.
The leaves of Orach are fleshy and arrow-shaped. The margins of the leaves are variously toothed and the lowest teeth point outward (‘hastate’, similar to the leaves of Sheep Sorrel in the June 8, 2012 post under the category ‘growing and gathering’). The leaves are grey to bright green and lighter on the underside of the leaf. Orach is a highly variable and poorly known species with respect to taxonomy.
Orach flowers from July to August. The flowers are like many seaside plants, inconspicuous and small, in the axils of the leaves.
Orach is tasty and salty. It can be used in salads, or cooked in boiling water for 15 minutes and served like spinach.
Warning: 1. never eat any plant if you are not absolutely certain of the identification; 2. never eat any plant if you have personal sensitivities, including allergies, to certain plants or their derivatives; 3. never eat any plant unless you have checked several sources to verify the edibility of the plant.
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hunting the orach
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I know the place where the orach hides –
out of the way of the rising tides
between the rocks and deep in the sand,
with his halberd drawn, he makes his stand
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© Jane Tims 2012
limits of the tide #3 – Sea-blite (Sueda maritima (L.) Dumort.)
Another edible coastal plant is Sea-blite (Sueda maritima (L.) Dumort.). Sea-blite is a low-growing plant, often forming mats on the shore. Sea-blite can also be found at inland locations, near salt springs.
Sea-blite has thick, linear leaves. The flowers are small and fleshy, and grow in the axils of the stem. At this time of year, Sea-blite is still a small, inconspicuous plant. Later it will grow to between 3 and 5 dm.
The leaves of Sea-blite are very salty, and can be used as a source of salt in soup or stew, or an ingredient in salads. Used as a pot-herb, they should be cooked for 10 to 12 minutes in two to three changes of boiling water, to reduce the salt content.
Warning: 1. never eat any plant if you are not absolutely certain of the identification; 2. never eat any plant if you have personal sensitivities, including allergies, to certain plants or their derivatives; 3. never eat any plant unless you have checked several sources to verify the edibility of the plant.~
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persuasion
Sea-blite (Sueda maritima (L.) Dumort.)
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fingers of Sea-blite
poke the salt air,
rebuke the salt sea
crave attention –
pick me! pick me!!
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fingers of Sea-blite
point politely at the pot
propose, diplomatically,
add a little more salt
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© Jane Tims 2012
limits of the tide #2 – Seaside Plantain (Plantago juncoides Lam.) – Goosetongue greens
One of the edible plants we found at Oak Bay (near St. Stephen, New Brunswick) was Seaside Plantain, also known locally as Goosetongue.
Seaside Plantain, also known as Goosetongue, ready to pick… they have to be rinsed well since the outgoing tide has left a thick layer of sediment behind…
Seaside Plantain (Plantago juncoides Lam.) grows in thick clumps, forming an intermittent carpet across the shore. The succulent, linear leaves of Seaside Plantain are grey-green in color. Inconspicuous green flowers, not present until later in June, rise from the rosette of leaves in a terminal spike. Seaside Plantain is in the same genus as Common Plantain (see the post for June 13, 2012, ‘Common Plantain’ under the category ‘growing and gathering’). Plantago is from the Latin for ‘footprint’ and juncoides means ‘rush-like’.
Goosetongue greens are pleasantly salty and are a local delicacy, eaten as a salad or pickle, or cooked like green beans and served with butter. For a vivid description of the experience of gathering and preparing Goosetongue greens, see Nature of Words (www.natureofwords.com/2011/07/goosetongue-greens/) by Deborah Carr, and the post for July 14, 2011, entitled ‘Goosetongue greens’.
Warning: 1. never eat any plant if you are not absolutely certain of the identification; 2. never eat any plant if you have personal sensitivities, including allergies, to certain plants or their derivatives; 3. never eat any plant unless you have checked several sources to verify the edibility of the plant.~
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Sunday Dinner at Maces Bay
Seaside Plantain (Pantago juncoides Lam.)
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dig right in
says your father
and nudges the pitcher of water
in my direction
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I study the ‘goosetongue greens’ –
mound of green spaghetti
between spuds and chicken,
green eels diving
for the bottom of the plate
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two things not in their favour –
they’re green,
they look a little like
the tongues of geese
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I watch your Dad –
he adds a dollop of butter,
he weaves his fork to catch a little of each,
potato, greens and chicken,
chews with his eyes closed,
reaches for his glass of water
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I sigh
and taste –
salt air and butter-cream,
crisp, the perfect crush,
mouth-feel, amazing
please pass the water
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~
© Jane Tims 2012
Warning: 1. never eat any plant if you are not absolutely certain of the identification; 2. never eat any plant if you have personal sensitivities, including allergies, to certain plants or their derivatives; 3. never eat any plant unless you have checked several sources to verify the edibility of the plant.limits of the tide #1 – edible plants
Last week, our travels took us to the edge of the sea, where I looked for more edible wild plants. I found what I was looking for at Oak Bay, near St. Stephen. At the end of a little-used road, we came out on a gravelly spit of land jutting into the Bay.
mid-tide at Oak Bay… at high tide, most of the foreshore will be covered by salt water… at low tide, the clam-flats will be exposed
There, on the shoreline, were four plants to add to my larder of edible wild.
Three of the species formed a small community near the upper reaches of the shore: Seaside Plantain, Sea-blite and Samphire. All three are in the photo below… can you find them?
The Seaside Plantain (also known as Goosetongue) is the dense clump of long, thick, linear leaves in the photo above…
The Sea-blite is just starting to grow. Later in the season it will be as large or larger than the Seaside Plantain. In the enlargement below, Sea-blite is the small green plant to the right of the clump of Seaside Plantain…
The Samphire is also very small this time of year. Later it will be as large as the Sea-blite or Seaside Plantain. In the photo enlargement below, it is at the base of the clump of Seaside Plantain, at exactly 6 o’clock.
The fourth edible plant at Oak Bay is Orach. It grows on the upper shore, above the Seaside Plantain and beyond the limit of the tide. These plants often grow together along the coast, on salt marshes, tidal flats, dykelands and beaches.
Since the plants were not plentiful and not yet ready to pick, I took only one plant of each, for my drawings. I also took a bite of each type of leaf. Although there are subtle differences, all four were crisp and salty in flavour, a delightful nibble of the salty sea.
These are just a few of the edible plants living in coastal areas of New Brunswick. Over the next posts, I will explore these four species and a few others.
© Jane Tims 2012
Warning: 1. never eat any plant if you are not absolutely certain of the identification; 2. never eat any plant if you have personal sensitivities, including allergies, to certain plants or their derivatives; 3. never eat any plant unless you have checked several sources to verify the edibility of the plant.American Black Duck
On our drives along the St. John River this month, we have tried to identify as many ducks as possible. There are actually not a lot of species to sort through, but we are just learning. Among the ducks we have seen this May are the American Wigeon (Anas americana), the Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos), the Green-winged Teal (Anas crecca), and the American Black Duck (Anas rubripes). These are all Marsh Ducks, surface feeders of ponds and marshes. The species in this Subfamily feed by ‘dabbling’ and ‘upending’… delightful words!
One weekend, we watched a male American Black Duck for quite a while. He flew around a bit, flashing his white wing linings, and then floated slowly along a back passageway through the marsh. He was very dark brown, with a tan head, a yellow beak, and a bluish wing patch. The best part of the experience was his deep croaking, each croak about a second long, and sounding like a little like an unimaginative bullfrog or two pieces of smooth wood being rubbed slowly together.
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The poem below requires a short explanation. Two months ago, I attended a workshop on climate change at the offices of the North Shore Micmac District Council in Eel Ground, New Brunswick. I was given a gift afterward, a calendar showing the names of the months in the Mi’qmak language. The names are beautiful and describe well characteristics of the natural world during various times of the year. For those of you who do not live in this part of the world, the Mi’kmaq are a First Nations people, indigenous to this region.
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Frog-Croaking Moon – Etquljuikús
(Mi’qmak name for the May moon)
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under the May moon,
bullfrogs glub-grunk,
underscore spring peeper trill
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rasp of a Black Duck
rowing in the reeds
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friction
of fir and maple
grown to lean on one-another
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© Jane Tims 2012
juvenile Bald Eagle
Last evening, we drove along the St. John River looking for fiddleheads and were delighted to see a juvenile Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus).
He was sitting on the dead branch of a Silver Maple, just above the highway. He stayed quite still as I took a few photos. He was huge compared to the hawks and osprey we usually see in the trees along the raodway. His plumage was tawny and brown, and his talons were a beautiful orange. Occasionally, he would twist his head and his eye would gleam, reflecting the light of the setting sun.
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young eagle
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his golden eye
glints as he twists his head
reinterprets the sinking sun
as soul
scrutinizes the river lands
for peril or prey
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© Jane Tims 2012
a pair of Painted Turtles
We did our usual bird-watching run along the St. John River on Sunday afternoon. We ordinarily follow the same circuit, from Oromocto, along the north side of the River, to Jemseg, crossing the River via the Gagetown Ferry, and returning on the south side of the St. John River. This area is in central New Brunswick, east of Fredericton.
The first part of this circuit is along the old Trans Canada Highway, now Route 105. This section follows the St. John River, through the Grand Lake Meadows, an important wetland area for New Brunswick. Near the spot marked ‘A’, we saw lots of ducks, an Osprey eating a fish, and three other raptors (a group including hawks or eagles) too distant to identify. Near ‘B’ is the place we often see various owls, Bald Eagles, and Moose.
From Jemseg, we take Route 715 to Lower Jemseg. This part of the route travels above the River, through farmland. We rarely see wildlife along this section, but the area has a rich history and has several interesting buildings, including the old church featured in my post of September 14, 2011.
From Lower Jemseg, we turn towards the Gagetown Ferry and Scovil. This is a very interesting part of the route, snaking between wetlands and ponds. Along this section, it is usual to spot other cars of eager birdwatchers.
a wet field near Scovil … there are two American Black Ducks in the grass to the left and two Canada Geese beyond the pond … this is the same pond where we saw a Glossy Ibis on April 23, 1988
The highlight of our trip on Sunday was a group of three Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta) on a log along this last section of our route, near the spot marked ‘C’.
The turtles were sunning themselves on a log in the middle of a pond. They have dark green, smooth shells, with bright orange markings along the edge of the shell. The inside of the lower shell is bright yellow. Their heads and tails are also marked with short streaks of orange and yellow. All winter these turtles have been hibernating at the bottom of the pond. Now awake, they will live in the pond all summer, laying eggs and feeding on aquatic insects and vegetation.
These Painted Turtles were stretching their necks out of their shells as far as possible. They made a beautiful sight, their colorful shells mirrored in the pond water.
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Painted Turtles
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I study the colors
through binoculars
remember these
with my hand, my fingers
rock the fine focus
rotate the brush
pick paint from the palette
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the shell, flat olive tiles, grouted
Payne’s Grey
the wrinkled foot and leg, relaxed along the log
Burnt Umber
on the tail, the neck, the head
deft strokes of Cadmium
Yellow and Orange
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the head stretches, to soak in sun
and dazzles on the pond
the lower shell
Yellow
refection on water
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and, at the edge of the carapace
bright dabs of Orange
one part Cadmium
two parts Quinacridone
and a touch of some unknown
translucence
elusive
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© Jane Tims 2012
‘Ducks’ Ditty’
On Saturday we took a drive along the St. John River, to see if any waterfowl were braving the cold windy day. The water is slowly receeding but still above summer levels. On a miserable day, the ducks retreat to the shallows, away from the exposure of the open water.
There were a few birds on the water. We stopped for a while to watch five male Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) paddling about. They stuck together as a group, feeding in the shallows and occasionally ‘standing’ on the water to flap their wings. This time of year, the female Mallards are on the nest, hatching their young, and the males typically hang out in groups with other males until moulting begins.
I am not good at duck identification, but the Mallard is easy to spot, with its bright green head and the white ring around its neck. I enjoyed watching them through the binoculars, especially their orange legs and feet maneouvering in the muddy water.
The Mallard is a member of the marsh duck family and a ‘dabbler’. Dabblers obtain their food by skimming it from the surface or tipping up to submerge their heads so they can feed underwater.
I can never watch dabblers on the water without thinking of Kenneth Grahame’s famous poem ‘Ducks’ Ditty’, from the book The Wind in the Willows. If you don’t have a copy of the book, have a look at the poem at http://www.literaturepage.com/read/windinthewillows-14.html
© Jane Tims 2012
floodwaters
This time of year, along the St. John River, we watch for floodwaters. For some, whose homes may be threatened by the flood, this means worry. For others, it means a road along the river may be closed until the waters recede. For me, it is a time to watch for the return of the Canada Geese. It is also a time to see what interesting cargo the floodwaters carry.
All along the river, there will be huge wheels of root… the remains of trees ripped from the river’s banks and carried along with the floodwaters. These ‘root wheels’ come to rest on the river’s edges, stranded by the falling waters. Washed clean of the soil, the roots show us the underpinnings of the trees and reveal what goes on beneath the ground, where we ordinarily cannot see.
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Windthrow
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another scar
in the clearcut
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one crooked pine
left sentinel
to watch shoots and brambles
scramble for sun
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wind thrown in silence
(no ears to hear)
seedlings
patted in by Boy Scouts
crushed
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roots and fibre, exposed
clots of clay
dripping rock, wounded
rootlets, oozing sap
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overturned war wagon
mighty axle, broken
wheel of matted roots, still
spinning, earth upended
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a crater dug in regolith
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a new shelter
from the wind, rain
sprouting seeds
in mineral
and fallen leaves
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Published as: ‘Windthrow’, The Cormorant XI (1): 100 (Fall 94)
© Jane Tims 1994
a moment of beautiful – trees and shadows
space: edge of the St. John River in winter
beautiful: mature silver maple trees and their shadows on the snow
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We went for a drive last weekend, along the St. John River. Above the ice, the river is covered in snow, a broad white plain edged by very old and very rugged silver maple trees.
In spite of a harsh environment, these trees endure. Each spring and fall, they are flooded. They are scoured by ice and subject to the eroding forces of the river. They are always at risk from people searching for a supply of firewood. A friend tells me these huge trees are usually suckers, grown from the base after the original tree was harvested.
And yet they grow old, a part of the hardwood floodplain forest. On a sunny day, they lean over the snow-covered river and spread their shadows across its surface. They have the beauty of their symmetry, solidity, grace, and fortitude.
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the line of animal tracks crossing the snow are probably from a Red Fox
Copyright Jane Tims 2012
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