Viva Erechtites hieracifolia

Although the tide was very high this morning, there were two night-herons in the trees by the pond just hanging out, waiting for the tide to drop. They both flew off as I came down the path from the house. One of them was calling and was clearly an adult Yellow-crowned; it flew to the right over to the marsh and disappeared. The other, an immature bird, may have been the same young Yellow-crowned that I have seen several times this season but it was difficult to be absolutely sure if it was even a Yellow-crowned (the immatures of the two species are difficult to tell apart in flight). Instead of flying with the adult bird, it took off directly across the creek ending up on a Pitch Pine branch on the opposite shore.

The entire colony of Purple Martins seemed to be in the air over the marsh this morning. This means that most of the young are flying and that their departure is not far off.

In the areas where Hurricane Irene cleared out the canopy and understory as well, there are, as previously described, masses of Pokeweed poking forth, some of it severely deer-nipped, some of coming into flower and even into fruit (fruit being those lurid purple pokeberries). But there is another, equally unusual plant that is sprouting up in great numbers and at a great rate. This is a rough-looking vegetable with jagged leaves, a groovy stem and strong-smelling toothed leaves. It has a flower that looks like it's about to open but never does. These flower heads are brush-like with a swollen base and brushy disk flowers (there are no rays) that are barely visible peeping out from the top of their coccoon of green bracts. The Latin name of this plant, Erechtites hieracifolia (try saying that fast five times), is quite elegant but the 'common' name is almost as homely as the plant: Pilewort presumably refers to the fact that it was once supposed to cure haemorrhoids (don't ask). It's also known by the classier name of Fireweed because, like a better-known plant with this name, it characteristically appears after a fire has opened up a wooded area. In our case, it wasn't fire but a tropical storm that cleared the way for this plant to make its rugged, ragged appearance. The fascinating question is how these plants 'know' that the ground has been prepared for them by an angry Mother Nature enabling them to prosper from the misfortune of others.

Eric Salzman