nichepoetryandprose

poetry and prose about place

Posts Tagged ‘orange

along the country road #5

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Not far from where I live is a new road,  built a few years ago along the edge of a field.   When it was first built, it was a scar on the land, its ditches unlovely smears of muck. 

This year,  the weeds of the roadside have moved in to fill the empty spaces with green.  At one place, where the new road joins the old, it is particularly wet and the ditches have been overwhelmed with a green and orange explosion of Jewel Weed.

Jewel Weed growing with cattails in a wet ditch

 Jewel weed grows in wet springy places, in swampy woods, along brooks, and in ditches. Its masses of green foliage are hung with spurred, lobed flowers, orange, yellow or cream coloured with spots at the throat. 
 
Jewel weed is also called spotted snapweed, spotted touch-me-not, lady’s earrings, Celandine, Solentine, impatiente (the French name for the genus), and chou sauvage.  The names snapweed and touch-me-not, as well as the generic name, Latin for impatient, refer to the sudden bursting of the seed capsule when it is touched. 

a profusion of Jewel Weed

 The botanist, Nicolaas Meerburgh, who first named the plant, called it capensis, meaning “of the cape” since he wrongly thought it had been introduced from the Cape of Good Hope into European gardens.

Jewel Weed (Impatiens capensis Meerb.)

                                                                   

 

Jewel Weed

            Impatiens capensis Meerb.

~

Jewel Weed

orange and green

tangled in the gully

spotted spurred

impatiente

            for a visit

            from a hummingbird

~

Jewel Weed

            not used as gems

                        for lady’s ears

            not (after all)

                        from the Cape

                        of Good Hope-

Celandine tends

to mope

~

Jewel Weed

pendulant

petulant

“Touch-me-not!

 or I fling

 seeds from my pods

 into the spring” 

~

 

© Jane Tims

Written by jane tims

August 15, 2011 at 9:46 am

‘niche’ on a rock

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In July, we went to the Saint Martins area  for the day and spent some time exploring the caves and beach-combing.  We  also took the short drive to the lighthouse at Quaco Head.  The lighthouse is perched on the cliff overlooking Quaco Bay. 

the Quaco Head Lighthouse ....... “The present Quaco Head Lighthouse was constructed in 1966 and consists of a square tower rising from one corner of a concrete fog signal building. The light in its lantern room produces a white flash every ten seconds, while the fog signal emits a three-second blast every thirty seconds, when needed.” from http://www.lighthousefriends.com/

If you look out over the Bay, you can see some exposed rocks where sea birds make their home, and,  to the north-east, Martin Head, about 30 kilometers away.

the view to the north-east ...... Martin Head is on the horizon, to the left

Wildflowers were everywhere, but what caught my eye was a lichen on a flat rock at the base of the lighthouse.  It was bright orange, like a splash of paint. 

There are two orange lichens that live on rocks in the coastal area of New Brunswick, Xanthoria and Caloplaca.  The orange lichen I found at Quaco Head is likely one of two species: Xanthoria sorediata (Vain.) Poelt or Xanthoria elegans (Link) Th. Fr.

bright orange Xanthoria lichen on a rock .... there are also two or more other species of lichen present

A lichen is not a plant, but a composite organism, consisting of an algae and a fungus, living together in a symbiotic, mutually beneficial, relationship.

 

Ringing

                       Swallow Tail Lighthouse, Grand Manan

 

air saltfresh and balsam

walls lapped by a juniper sea

pale mimic of the salt sea

battering its foundations

                      its endurance

                      a mystery

until I found

an iron ring

anchored deep

in rock

almost lost

in lichen

                  Xanthoria orange

lifted and dropped

run round

its axis

                  clashing on stone

                  creak and clank of the metal door

                  echoes climbing the welded stair

                  ground glass grit of the light 

                  fog washed clang of the channel bell

rock lashed to the lighthouse

salt breakers turned to stone

 

Published as: ‘Ringing’, Spring 1995, The Cormorant XI (2)

(revised)

© Jane Tims