(NYC 05 2021)
This spring’s weather has been very amenable to the often elusive and shy mayapple, Podophyllum peltatum, which has appeared to be quite prolific in New York City’s shaded green spaces this year:
(NYC 05 2021)
— rPs 05 31 2021
Posts Tagged Manhattan
May’s Namesake
(NYC 05 2021)
(NYC 05 2021)
Earth Day 2021
(NYC 04 22 2021)
Earth Day 2021 in New York City could be called “Brrrth Day” as it began with Fahrenheit temperatures in the 30s.
Sun in a sky dotted by bright clouds has added little warmth on account of high winds, but the light, so spring clear and pure as to sharpen and magnify everything, shines on the new green leafing out as well as a full spectrum of spring flowers both domesticated and wild.
(NYC 04 22 2021)
Happy Earth Day 2021
— rPs 04 22 2021
11 Years (But Who’s Counting?)
“Wildflowers of the West Village will be an ongoing document, beginning with the 2010 growing season” . . .
So began Wildflowers of the West Village on this date in 2010. Last year’s 10th anniversary was overshadowed by New York (and the rest of the world) locking down at the start of the Covid-19 pandemic. This year, that crisis still remains, but the outlook is much more positive, and today is a bright and sunny day in the city, the first full day of spring, full of new wildflower beauty that cannot be contained.
A short Sunday morning walk in the neighborhood reveals:
Bittercress, Cardamine hirsuta
Groundsel, Senecio vulgaris
Mouseear chickweed, Cerastium fontanum
Red deadnettle, Lamium purpureum
The diversity of species and range of shape and color punctuating the newly greening grass is affirming to behold, just one of the reasons a little blog about wildflowers in of all places, New York City, has lasted for over a decade, but who’s counting?
— rPs 03 22 2021
Postscript: Visit the post that started it all here: https://wildflowersofthewestvillage.com/2010/03/22/welcome/
February Flats
(02 26 2021)
Snow melts to reveal lawns like tundra, spongy cold underfoot, and full of hardy basal rosettes, flat green faces waiting for spring when once again wild plants may rise to stand up straight.
Meanwhile, as soon as some sunshine sustains on the earth, there are poking through the cracks the early bloomers like the red deadnettle, Lamium:
(02 26 2021)
Spring’s start is less than a month away. The wildflowers of the West Village are getting ready.
— rPs 02 28 2021
Snow Blooms
(NYC 01 20 2021)
The asters of autumn have long gone to seed. The parks sport the brown and tan tones of skeletal plant stems, dried leaves, and fallow edges now, within winter’s center, dressed also in white from a January snow.
— rPs 01 31 2021
Looking Up
(NYC 11 2020)
I looked down for inspiration in October. I looked up and found it, again, in November.
The fall season progresses, and as the tree’s leaves thin out, the colors of those that remain on the branches appear even more vivid due to the open space, the contrasting blue, or white, or gray sky above.
Years ago, as a new Romantic poet in his senior year at university, I was first struck by this perceived increased intensity of the foliage as the season aged. I had a daily walk up a hilly avenue lined by mature trees to reach my morning classes, and on one sunny day I looked up, and a poem appeared fully formed:
My Perfect Autumn Day
Blue and gold days
Have come to call.
Gilded trees, warm,
And clear, cool air;
I stare, this morning,
At a mighty mosaic.
We call this fall,
My perfect autumn day;
I say, each leaf is a coin,
Pure gold for my pocket.
If this season were a vault,
I would lock it,
And save them forever.
The poem retains the memory, the treasure, of that day. The same can be done with words now, added and aided by the convenience of the smartphone camera.
Looking up, one can see the gold of the birch, gingko, locust, and Norway maple against a bluebird sky. The white cloud of a rainy day allows the same yellows to glow in place of the sun.
(NYC 11 30 2020)
The blue above also enhances the reds of the oak, and the full spectrum of the sweetgum, known also as liquidamber, and the savory tans of the London plane tree, whose overhead spread can resemble a cathdral when planted in rows . . .
(NYC 11 200)
. . . . Which reminds me of a stanza from another poem composed on another autumn walk:
The tall plane trees sigh.
A broken spot of blue
In the gray and white sky
Grows as it goes by.
The fall is a wonderful time to spend time outside. Inspiration can be found, or recalled. The truth of a little poem, written so long ago, may very well be that each and every one is a perfect autumn day.
— rPs 11 30 2020
August Harvest
August Harvest . . .
A summer salad of Asiatic dayflower, Galinsoga, and Lady’s Thumb.
(NYC 08 31 2020)
Family and friends have begun to share photos, and salads, from their gardens as the month of August comes to a close. The wild patches of Manhattan’s west side have also reached their peak of productivity.
A morning walk, or a stroll to watch the evening sun set behind the Hudson, will also be accompanied by a diverse harvest of native and immigrant wildflowers in full bloom and fruit. This salad bar of sorts includes:
American Pokeweed, Phytolacca americana
(NYC 08 17 2020)
Bittersweet Nightshade, Solanum dulcamara
(NYC 08 31 2020)
Broadleaf Plantain, Plantago major
(NYC 08 31 2020)
Butter and Eggs, Linaria vulgaris
(08 08 2020)
Chicory, Cichorium intybus
(NYC 08 2020)
Common Black Nightshade, Solanum nigrum
(NYC 08 17 2020)
Common Mallow, Malva neglecta
(NYC 08 17 2020)
Galinsoga, Galinsoga parviflora
(NYC 08 17 2020)
Lady’s Thumb, Persicaria maculosa
(NYC 08 17 2020)
Marestail, Conyza canadensis
(NYC 08 31 2020)
There is quite a selection to see. August’s harvest is here.
— rPs 08 31 2020
Earth Day 50
Earth Day 50 . . .
The Globe by Kim Brandell on Earth Day 50 Morning.
(NYC 04 22 2020)
Ten years ago on Earth Day 40 I walked in Central Park and wrote of the lovely clear spring day it was and how nature and the city seemed to be in ecological balance.
Ten years later we find New York City like the rest of the world locked down in the midst of a global pandemic. The weather is the same, even more intensely clear and crisp, but the human activity is mostly absent.
My everyday life has me fall under the category of “essential (healthcare) worker” who also happens to work the night shift. My morning commute home, a healthy walk rather than a horrid subway ride, today took me through Central Park to revisit the view of a decade ago, which remains the same except for the spikes of several new supertall condominum towers stretched along the width of Central Park South.
Viola sororia, bi-colored form, claims a crack near Columbus Circle.
(NYC 04 2020)
My strongest impression is that the high blue sky clear of jet vapor trails and streets devoid of the numbing hum of peak vehicular traffic have given the city, in fact the entire planet, a pause to catch its natural breath. It’s as if the Earth is itself a meta unicellular creature exclaiming: “Thank you for ceasing to stress me with all that bad gas. Here is a perfect spring day as a reward.”
Earth Day 50: ironically the most beautiful Earth Day I have so far witnessed. May it not be the last.
The Lake in Central Park.
(NYC 04 22 2020)
— rPs 04 22 2020
Postscript: Time Does Fly. Read about Earth Day 40 here: https://wildflowersofthewestvillage.com/2010/04/22/earth-day-40-on-the-fly/
10th Anniversary
10th Anniversary . . .
Inspiration: The springtime view of Scilla siberica in bloom that began Wildflowers of the West Village.
(NYC 03 22 2010)
Ten years ago today I took some time to write a few paragraphs after a walk in Hudson River Park. The subject, one that had interested me since childhood, the wildflowers one encounters along the way.
“Wildflowers of the West Village will be an ongoing document, beginning with the 2010 growing season . . .”
A decade since spent exploring New York City’s wild flora, both native and immigrant (NOT invasive, imho), has given me monthly material enough even when internal inspiration may have been lacking. The walks and runs I have taken have at times rejuvenated my body and mind and imtroduced me to fellow like-minded lovers of nature. WWV has even received a bit of media notice from the likes of West View and The New York Times.
I have long described my love of creative writing as exploring the infinity found within the fixed space of the page, and likewise, so I have found the seasonal variety of wild plants established along the Hudson River side of Manhattan.
And as no writing enjoys life without readers, may I thank you all for taking the time to visit. I have endeavored to create an ongoing lasting document and resource for anyone interested in what has and what comtinues to grow wild along the margins of this great city of New York.
Here’s to ten (10!) more years of Wildflowers of the West Village.
Continuation: Scilla siberica
(NYC 03 17 2020)
— rPs 03 22 2020
Postscript: Read the post that started it all here: https://wildflowersofthewestvillage.com/2010/03/22/welcome/
Mild Winter Early Birds
Mild Winter Early Birds . . .
Forsythia in February!
(NYC 02 12 2020)
You can tell a winter season is a mild one when the mourning dove wakes you with its morning call as early as the middle of February.
Rain rather than snow with plenty of sun in between has brought early flowering greens along with the songbirds. Leap year adds an additional day to the second month of the year, and what’s become clear is this one has been warmer just as Punxsutawney Phil predicted. A brief walk in the park or down a garden block encounters:
Bittercress
Cardamine hirsuta
(02 28 2020)
Chickweed
Stellara media
(NYC 02 23 2020)
Grounsel
Senecio vulgaris
(02 28 2020)
Birds and blooms already in February may forshadow a healthy 2020 growing season for New York City, and a hot one, too.
— rPs 02 29 2020
Wildflowers of the West Village 