yesterday i noticed my morning rabbit was beginning to molt.
there is a particular jackrabbit that unlike alice's white rabbit, is always on time. it ranges, between 33rd avenue and silverberry road precisely between the time i leave the desert castle at 6:39 and catch the bus at 6:50.
"good morning rabbit" i said as i always do, though it's actually a hare. hares change their coats from white to brown according to the seasons. i have seen the local jackrabbits and snowshoe hares in their summer coats, and now i know them. i know which species of hare they are unlike last winter when they were indistinguishable to me.
i noticed the golden brown fur on it's flanks had begun to look patchy.
it is only just september, and already the hares were getting ready to change into their thick fluffy white coats.
then i saw the poplars. the leaves had begun to turn yellow.
when i got to the transit station to change buses, the large blinky sign read, "7:02 -- 3C"
autumn is already upon me.
suddenly i was alert to the other signs.
other plants were pumping anthocyanins into their leaves, the red and purple pigments that will help protect them from frosts, and let photosynthesis continue for another few weeks.
these are only slightly noticeable now, with a darkening and deepening of the greens in the dandelions, mountain ashes and potentillas. soon, as the chlorophyll breaks down the reds will be revealed.
i have been regularly foraging for berries and other edibles under the hydro lines near the desert castle. the hydro right-of-way has been planted with heaps of ornamental and edible shrubbery. back in the spring i devoured the first dandelions that pushed their way through the thick mulch beds. next was the gooseberries and nanking cherries. then the serviceberries, and chokecherries. i missed the pin cherries, and i haven't felt ambitious enough to gather and cook all the elderberries. i wait impatiently for the rose hips to ripen. i imagine the neighbours think i am some sort of witch, rummaging through the underbrush in my black sun dress or my long gypsy skirts, collecting things and stuffing them into my cat patterned shoulder bag.
my boss, The Urban Farmer, who we have taken to affectionately calling "The Ur-Fa" is a treasure trove of knowledge about the local flora. i asked him about the other shrubs in the plantings, what are called sea buckthorn en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sea-buckthorn and russian olive en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_olive. they are not related in any way to what i call buckthorn (Ramnus), or what we know as olives.
The Ur-Fa was excited by my description of how many shrubs there were. his unbounded enthusiasm for the fruits soon made me feel a little cagey... i didn't want him to get to the fruits before i did!
he said the russian olives weren't olives, (that ended a brief fantasy of pickling my own cocktail garnishes) and that they were nutritious and abundant, though mealy and dry.
i haven't tried them yet, they have not looked ripe.
he was really into the sea buckthorn. i became anxious to taste this new 'superfood'.
"I think you need to wait until frost to harvest it. they are very tart, they might get sweeter upon freezing. and you need to wear gloves, or just clip the branches off with your secateurs first, shake the fruit off later. it's really thorny, but taste the fruits now, they might be good already, or show me where they are and i'll have a look at them, they are citrusy, tart, and super nutritious. they cure cancer or something..." he was talking in a torrential downpour. i gave a vague description of the location of the hydro lines and steered the conversation back to our work. he went on about the miraculous properties of sea buckthorn.
later that week, i wandered off from megpye and ryskie while we were downtown and scampered over to some sea buckthorn in someone's yard. i picked the largest squishiest most brilliantly orange berry. i put it into my mouth and bit into the smooth skin. it was so sour! i puckered up, but the other flavour was incredible, astringent and faintly citrusy, but unlike any citrus fruit i know. it was fragrant and very strong.
megpye noticed me, and came over.
"delicious fruits!" i exclaimed, "they are sour and they are not quite ready. another week or two!"
i handed her one.
she declared it super awesome sour.
today i will go and harvest the sea buckthorn. the frosts are near. my time in edmonton is coming to an end.
there is a particular jackrabbit that unlike alice's white rabbit, is always on time. it ranges, between 33rd avenue and silverberry road precisely between the time i leave the desert castle at 6:39 and catch the bus at 6:50.
"good morning rabbit" i said as i always do, though it's actually a hare. hares change their coats from white to brown according to the seasons. i have seen the local jackrabbits and snowshoe hares in their summer coats, and now i know them. i know which species of hare they are unlike last winter when they were indistinguishable to me.
i noticed the golden brown fur on it's flanks had begun to look patchy.
it is only just september, and already the hares were getting ready to change into their thick fluffy white coats.
then i saw the poplars. the leaves had begun to turn yellow.
when i got to the transit station to change buses, the large blinky sign read, "7:02 -- 3C"
autumn is already upon me.
suddenly i was alert to the other signs.
other plants were pumping anthocyanins into their leaves, the red and purple pigments that will help protect them from frosts, and let photosynthesis continue for another few weeks.
these are only slightly noticeable now, with a darkening and deepening of the greens in the dandelions, mountain ashes and potentillas. soon, as the chlorophyll breaks down the reds will be revealed.
i have been regularly foraging for berries and other edibles under the hydro lines near the desert castle. the hydro right-of-way has been planted with heaps of ornamental and edible shrubbery. back in the spring i devoured the first dandelions that pushed their way through the thick mulch beds. next was the gooseberries and nanking cherries. then the serviceberries, and chokecherries. i missed the pin cherries, and i haven't felt ambitious enough to gather and cook all the elderberries. i wait impatiently for the rose hips to ripen. i imagine the neighbours think i am some sort of witch, rummaging through the underbrush in my black sun dress or my long gypsy skirts, collecting things and stuffing them into my cat patterned shoulder bag.
my boss, The Urban Farmer, who we have taken to affectionately calling "The Ur-Fa" is a treasure trove of knowledge about the local flora. i asked him about the other shrubs in the plantings, what are called sea buckthorn en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sea-buckthorn and russian olive en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_olive. they are not related in any way to what i call buckthorn (Ramnus), or what we know as olives.
The Ur-Fa was excited by my description of how many shrubs there were. his unbounded enthusiasm for the fruits soon made me feel a little cagey... i didn't want him to get to the fruits before i did!
he said the russian olives weren't olives, (that ended a brief fantasy of pickling my own cocktail garnishes) and that they were nutritious and abundant, though mealy and dry.
i haven't tried them yet, they have not looked ripe.
he was really into the sea buckthorn. i became anxious to taste this new 'superfood'.
"I think you need to wait until frost to harvest it. they are very tart, they might get sweeter upon freezing. and you need to wear gloves, or just clip the branches off with your secateurs first, shake the fruit off later. it's really thorny, but taste the fruits now, they might be good already, or show me where they are and i'll have a look at them, they are citrusy, tart, and super nutritious. they cure cancer or something..." he was talking in a torrential downpour. i gave a vague description of the location of the hydro lines and steered the conversation back to our work. he went on about the miraculous properties of sea buckthorn.
later that week, i wandered off from megpye and ryskie while we were downtown and scampered over to some sea buckthorn in someone's yard. i picked the largest squishiest most brilliantly orange berry. i put it into my mouth and bit into the smooth skin. it was so sour! i puckered up, but the other flavour was incredible, astringent and faintly citrusy, but unlike any citrus fruit i know. it was fragrant and very strong.
megpye noticed me, and came over.
"delicious fruits!" i exclaimed, "they are sour and they are not quite ready. another week or two!"
i handed her one.
she declared it super awesome sour.
today i will go and harvest the sea buckthorn. the frosts are near. my time in edmonton is coming to an end.
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