The Magic of Milkweed… and Rabbits?

*Rabbit image drawn from photo by* *FidlerJan*

I learned much more than I expected to in the short-but-highly-informative and beautifully illustrated book The Milkweed Lands by Eric Lee-Mäder and illustrated by Beverly Duncan. You’ve probably already heard the critical role milkweed plays for monarchs, but this book also shows us the ways they’re part of a broader animal/insect/plant community. You can eat milkweed (but be careful how you prepare it). Who knew? Apparently George Washington Carver. If you read the book, then you know why Midwesterners during World War II harvested bags upon bags of milkweed pods. If you haven’t had a chance yet, I’ll give you three hints (it wasn’t to eat them, the seeds ____ through the air, and sometimes we need to ____ too). Any guesses?

Because of herbicides, we’ve sadly seen a significant drop in milkweeds in the Midwest since the 90s according to researchers Lee-Mäder cites from the University of Iowa and the University of Wisconsin. He gives us hope however: “But meadows always come back. Every crack in the pavement sprouts a new one: at first only a single blade of grass, then other blades, in other cracks. Eventually the cracks converge, and the whole riotous affair starts to swallow up our rubbish, paying us back with grasshoppers and flowers.”

There’s much more to learn about milkweed than the tidbits I’ve highlighted above (not to mention the lovely illustrations to see)—I highly recommend giving this book a read if you haven’t already.

Do you have any milkweed in your yard? Will you plant any this year?

We have two swamp milkweeds. We also planted a bunch of butterfly weed, which is part of the milkweed family but “does not contain the characteristic thick milky sap but instead has a watery translucent sap” according to the USDA/Forest Service. (Avoid tropical butterfly weed in the Midwest, as it is causes a problem for butterfly migration when planted outside its native range.) I can’t wait for everything to start blooming!

By the way, “Leigh” actually means meadow. As a teenager I thought that was sooo boring. These days I’m utterly delighted, especially after reading Lee-Mäder’s ode to meadows at the end of the book. Anyone know of any convenient black holes I could chuck a copy of this book into so it would go back in time and land on my embarrassing teenage self? That’s how black holes work, right? I need to rewatch Interstellar…

Random but related: I’m enjoying listening to A Curious Beginning (Veronica Speedwell Mysteries #1) by Deanna Raybourn, and this bit really stuck out to me:

“‘…all of you butterfly chasers are the same—appalling optimists, always looking for the best, determined to find it.’

… ‘…one seldom finds something if one never actually looks for it. I should have thought an explorer would have a better grasp of that concept.’”

These are words I’m holding tightly today.

April Challenge

Did you spend a few minutes observing a bird, insect, or other creature this month? How did it feel? What questions did you have?

I spent too much time waiting to see a rabbit hop over our fence. We see them outside the fence. We see them inside the fence. Never have we seen them go over the fence. Do they take a running go at it? Or leap straight up in the air? Are they magic? Were the rabbits pulling themselves out of the magicians’ hats all along?

Today is Indie Bookstore Day!

Somehow Independent Bookstore Day sneaks up on me every year. This year I planted the seed (ha) with Lucas to set aside outdoor chores this morning and bike over to Leopold’s for a pandan iced latte and a book browse. I suppose I could simply sneak off—he’ll be too busy ejecting rabbits from our wildflower patch to notice.

Here are the details for Indie Bookstore Day in Madison (among the perks: a raffle, free art print, chance to find a golden ticket for 12 audiobooks from Libro.fm). And details for Central Iowa (including a Book Banning Resistance Party)!

Do you have Indie Bookstore Day plans?

Libro.fm Sale

Libro.fm is celebrating indie bookstores with a sale on certain audiobooks. (Sale prices are even more reduced for members!) Celebrate Indie Bookstore Day and Earth Day together with one (or more) of these books:

Yeah, so… I bought them all. They make great company for summer weeding! And doing the dishes. And folding the laundry. But be very careful cleaning the toilet while wearing earbuds (Thankfully I don’t say this from experience, just lots of paranoia).

Fat Bird Week

Image belongs to NRF Wisconsin

Let’s play! Fat Bird Week is a fundraiser for the Natural Resource Foundation of Wisconsin’s Bird Fund.

The week of May 2-9, vote for your favorite fat bird each day. The winner of the bracket will go on to the next round. I will send out an email each day asking you to comment with your bracket pick for the next day (with a bird doodle or comic to add a little extra reason to open that email). For every bracket pick comment that wins I will add $1 to my donation, and for each person who votes every day I will add another $7, for a maximum donation of $100.

Why Fat Bird Week?

“In the world of birds, a fat bird is a healthy bird. Fat acts as a great lightweight source of energy for these important pollinators. Many of our favorite native Wisconsin species are also migratory birds and can pack on 50-100% of their body weight to store up enough energy for their long journey.”
—NRF of Wisconsin

May’s Book

You Are Here: Poetry in the Natural World, a collection of poems by various authors edited by Ada Limón, is our book for May. A book of poetry seemed the right speed for a month often full of planting, weeding, and just generally enjoying the outdoors. Little poetry breaks might help us appreciate this beautiful month all the more.

Last May Lucas and I attended a poetry reading by Ada Limón, and one of the highlights was how wonderful it was to hear her read her own poems out loud. Hearing her inflection added new meaning to the poems. You Are Here is also on sale at Libro.fm if you would like the pleasure of being read to (though the poems are read by a single narrator, not the poets themselves).