Nothing like the sound of the wind combing the tall grass, rattling the maples, to soothe the scurrying mind. Nothing like the electric splash of October color to plug in the unplugged heart. I walked all over the park today, but the most gorgeous thing I saw was the poison ivy growing in the deli parking lot. Spectacular.
Several weeks ago, while walking through the park, I looked down to discover a bouquet of peacock feathers on the side of the road. They captured the late light with an emerald and turquoise shimmer. I'd like to think that someone left them there as an iridescent surprise for a child to find.
Mesmerized, I watched this leaf pirouette earthward, slowly, magically. It descended so dreamily that it seemed to levitate. As I got closer, I noticed that it was still tethered to its tree by a strand of spider silk. It swayed back and forth like a tiny camouflage-print kite at the whim of the wind.
I had no idea that monarch butterflies have “no more flavor than dried toast.” So Dr. Urquhart, an entomologist, learned while eating a number of monarchs in the field. Since monarchs feed on milkweed, which contains “heart poisons similar to digitalis,” birds that feed on the monarchs get ill. In the past, it was assumed that monarchs would taste bitter due to the acrid milkweed. But, no, apparently to the human tongue they taste more like bland breakfast food. (I don’t dare imagine the texture … a parchment-like crunch?)
