July 22, 2015
(This is part of a 365 project
during my 70th year where I write and illustrate a blog on each
day’s gift.)
There’s something in me that wants to know a name—of
a person, a plant, a town. It doesn’t mean that I will remember but I want to
know that there is a name. I wonder why. Does that make it more real? More
tangible? Does it become more beautiful if it has a name?
Today at Downs Park, I watched dragonflies,
butterflies and moths flit about and land here and there in the pond area. Out
of the corner of my eye, at the same time I heard a “blup” and “splash.” I’m
pretty sure that a dragonfly I had photographed just two minutes before had mistakenly
landed on the snout of a snapping turtle, barely out of the water. The beautiful
dragonfly with turquoise compound eyes had disappeared in a snap.
I did not capture a photo of this but I did get
images of a moth on a beautiful pink flower. I remember vaguely from high
school botany class that flowers have parts that are named: stamen, anther,
filament, stigma, pistil. This wildflower had many pink filaments shooting out
and attracted some brown moths that I cannot identify.
I posted a photo of the flower on Facebook, afraid that I would not sleep until I learned the name of this wildflower. One person finally nailed it. It
is a waterwillow or swamp loosestrife, found in wetlands all along the east coast.
Now another mystery. I wonder
how this plant got its name?
My
gift today is one mystery solved.
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