When winter drops in, I'm going to try to remember this summer - the summer Maine stayed green. We put a drip irrigation system in our vegetable garden a couple of years ago and used it a lot. We didn't use it once this spring and summer.
The Summer it Stayed Green • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275
A Quiet Place • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275
We took a walk on North Haven and passed this field of lupine in full bloom. It's June - they're blooming everywhere. I was curious about their origin and found some pretty interesting stuff.
Lupine are not native to New England
Lupines are not native to New England. They were initially planted in Europe to stabilize soils and feed animals, according to the New England Historical Society, and bears like to eat their roots. In some European countries, lupines are so prolific that they threaten to crowd out forest herbs.
Though some lupines are successful food crops for animals, other varieties are toxic to animals and can cause discomfort for us humans if eaten. While the poison is present mainly in the seeds of the plants, small amounts are also in the foliage. Additionally, lupines post a risk to the plant community because they are susceptible to several fungal diseases and viruses and are host to a type of aphid that has few natural predators.
The lupine most of us see are considered invasive
In years past, there was a species of Lupine that was native to Maine, Lupinus perennis, but it is now so scarce that it is nearly extirpated from the state of Maine. The lupine you see along Maine's highways are not native to Maine. It is Bigleaf lupine, Lupinus polyphyllus, which originated in the western United States. This plant was introduced to Maine as a landscaping plant, and quickly got out of control. It is what we refer to as an invasive species that can crowd native species out of their preferred habitats. Also, their seeds are toxic to animals if too many are consumed, which could threaten both grazing farm animals and native herbivores.
The National Park Service prioritizes protecting native species and
works to eliminate nonnative invasive species. Currently, the park
removes Bigleaf lupine when it encroaches upon natural habitat.
This species spreads like any recognized invasive plant and it has
displaced both rare and common Maine plants. Lupine could have an impact
on the migratory monarch butterfly because it crowds out native
milkweed. The larva of the monarch depends on milkweed as its host
plant; it cannot eat lupine.
They are a good source of nectar for pollinating insects and has been known to attract hummingbirds. This plant also provides regulating ecosystem services, as it has deep roots that help prevent erosion, as well as supporting services, as it is a legume and thus fixes nitrogen and returns it to the soil.
Now what?
Hmmm..so lupines are beginning to take over my flower gardens. They are popping up everywhere. Guess I need to pull a few of them.
The Lupine Dilemna • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275
And so we finally got a break in the 40 days and 40 nights of rain that has been this year's Maine spring. A few days of sun when it was actually hot under cover did not fool us when the temps dropped at night to double sleeping bag survival mode. Weather forecasting is what's going on outside right now.
Nevertheless, we didn't take this brief respite for granted. This is a quick sketch of the CLAUDIA III anchored off Calderwood Island when for a few hours it was summer. Tom called it our 24 hours of summer.
Our 24 Hours of Summer • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12"x 12" • $275
Spring 2023s first full moon occurs in April. It's called the Pink Moon. This year it rises on
Thursday, April 6.
The Pink Moon is a Native American term taken from the color of the herb pink moss
also known as phlox subulata - a wildflower which blooms during the
early springtime in the North American region. So this moon was named to evoke early springtime and will not appear pink unless something atmospheric occurs. Ya never know.
Spring's First Pink Full Moon • 8" x 8" framed to 12" x 12" • $275
Once in a while I see an image that evokes something deeply primal. This docile, elegant creature sitting quietly and in a seemingly meditative peace in a field somewhere in Maine... is actually hunting.
Programed to hunt, it waits for unsuspecting victims to make a mistake. It has laser sharp claws, teeth like steel daggers, and is quick and efficient enough to take down any kind of smaller two-legged winged or four-legged before they know what's happened to them.
We forget about all of this primal stuff when these love bugs morph into adorable purring fur balls that keep our laps warm on cold winter nights, have a way of convincing us that they hold us in awe, and lull us into thinking we are the only ones.
It's a trade off. That farmer up on the hill will never be bothered by vermin in house or barn as long as this beast stays alive. So love them or fear them, they are what they are, always first and foremost, hunters.
The Hunter • 8 x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275
There are two things that will help keep rural Maine from ever becoming fully civilized. Mud and black flies. These two elements are associated with spring. So there is actually no one calling spring a season up here. We call it mud season and then black fly season in that rapid order of appearance because when the mud fully thaws, out come the flies.
All of us have ways of dealing with these two seasons. We either don't come home from winter away homes too early, or we go into combat by leaving our snow tires on longer, wearing waterproof boots and full body mesh armor 24/7.
Today I think about maybe trying to embrace the upcoming mud season. It's already here, but will be in full bloom when the rain comes later in April. There's no good way to make it look beautiful out there, so I'm romanticizing here for practice, and maybe my own sure-to-be-tested sanity.
Embracing Mud Season 8 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275
