Athens, Georgia
September 24, 2014; revised August 29, 2019
With thanks to the Nature Ramblers, led by Dale Hoyt and Linda Chafin, (and Hugh Nourse, who has moved to St. Louis) with Don Hunter, photographer. Some of Don's images from September 18 are reproduced below. No botanicals were harmed in the production of this poem.
Weeds have names we never know:
the world is filled with hidden souls.
I walk down moist paths
in the abundance of summer
through dew drops and deer ticks
to hang on new words, happy
as a puppy with a play-toy. A boy
exploring the borders of Eden
would sense the names assigned
by Adam, though science prefers
the precision of Latin – verbesina alternifolia
is an asteraceae of order asterales,
featuring a flower in the form of capitula,
surrounded by involucral bracts.
Weeds have names we’ll never know,
but ‘wingstem' sticks to unschooled minds
and ‘dog fennel’ channels bliss,
the smell of boyhood forts in fields.
Glory is goldenrod and crownbeard
when old fields glow yellow
against blue-purple tips of towering ironweed
and lavender balls of tall thistle.
Peace comes to the cusp of fall
on white waves of frostweed
and ivory boneset, in pokeweed
and patches of rabbit tobacco.
By the margins of forest, beautyberry
thrive and grape ferns unfurl
their sensitive fronds. The world
bursts with hidden soul
and my back yard goes ragged.
Elephant foot in exuberance
grows ungainly shoots
branching through odd angles
to tiny flowers, which lend
the lawn a purple hue. Weeds
have names we cannot know
expressed in scent and pollen.
Bumblebees consume their sweetness.
Fritillaries share their bodies.
They toil and spin their secret
lives, they reproduce, and soon
they die. We barely sense a hidden
soul, clothed in rude glory
exceeding kingly robe and throne.
They make on life a modest claim,
but each one bears its own true name
known to God and them alone.
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| Frostweed (by Don Hunter) |
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| Boneset (by Don Hunter) |
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| Boneset and Camphor (by Don Hunter) |
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| Thistle Flower (by Don Hunter) |
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| Golden Aster (by Don Hunter) |
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| Elephant's Foot (by Don Hunter) |
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| Beautyberry (by Bob Ambrose) |
You captured this time of the season perfectly, Bob. I call September "The Yellow Season" and it's quite obvious why, as we Ramble through the Bot Garden or drive down a country road this time of year, with the goldenrod, wingstem and golden aster all golden and aglow.
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