Thanks, Erin. My home state of Vermont has a rich and diverse fern fauna as well (and lots of fern botanists). As you probably know, it seems that ferns are good gateway plants for budding botanists (including me). One of my first botany walks (decades ago) was with the incredible botanist Liz Thompson here in Vermont. In any event, it's nice to see them green in winter!
I love ferns, in fact I did an undergraduate project on ferns as part of my Botany degree. Here our closest relation to the Intermediate Wood Fern would be Dryopteris filis-mas, commonly known as the Male Fern (in comparison to the more delicate Lady Fern (Athyrium filis-femina).)
I absolutely love this post. As a person who works in climate science, it’s easy to both be pessimistic about the current state of the world and to be hyper focused niche scientific findings. This essay is the exact reminder i needed to just take a step back and embrace the magic of the natural world.
And you inspired me to get another book! And I will read it soon.
Concerning ferns- with my hiking buddies we looked for yet another green in winter fern, Botrychium dissectum, on Mt Toby. But alas the leaf litter covered it! We did see your wood ferns, polypody, along with Christmas ferns...
Beautiful, Bryan, from start to finish. I might quibble with your use of "prosaic" to describe ferns, but I know what you meant. Of course my fern bias might be at play here. I had a line in a very early poem - a lifetime ago - that was something like "I've fallen in with ferns." Not sure if you've had a chance to go to NZ, but it's marvelous to be hiking days-deep in a forest there and be surrounded by tree ferns and ground-level ferns too. I almost stepped on a kiwi that was hiding beneath one... Anyway, thanks for a piece as elegant and lovely as a fern.
Thanks, Jason. Yeah, I've seen some of the tree ferns in the tropics, but have never been to NZ or Australia -- I guess they're temperate there? (I need to get there anyway to see birdwings before I leave this Earth.) And, agreed: those are by no means prosaic! 😀
Also in Vermont, I am amazed on each of my walks how some forest/meadow edges are easier to see through now that many of the ferns have died back. Then, there are little green ferns poking through the snow like wrapped gifts.
Thanks, Stacy. I do like the feel and the "visibility" in the northern hardwoods this time of year. (It's also easier to keep track of my pup Odin running around in the woods.)
I’m reading The Light Eaters right now. There is SO much to learn and think about. I’ll have to reread the book at least one more time before I start sharing it. I’m already telling my friends “I think you’ll love this book!”
Thanks, Bryan for the beautiful, snowy fern image opener and your notes on "'The Light Eaters' by Zoë Schlanger. A nimble and smart writer, Schlanger negotiates and explains the rugged intellectual terrain of..." I found it a pretty interesting journey, as well, but love especially your closing of the loop that inspired her title: botanist Tim Plowman's "They can eat light, isn’t that enough?” In anticipation of that coming turn toward the light, my friend... Namasté
As with most things, it depends greatly on the moment and just whom life offers us as sustenance... I have a feeling that even a peanut butter sandwich on stale bread would seem like a feast while sitting on a log in the woods with you...
Hi B. I wonder, at what point is it too cold for those hearty Dryopteris (Dryopteri??) to perform light eating? Water must move through tissues for photosynthesis, so even though they and the Christmas ferns and the mosses remain green throughout, do they need the temps to be above 0 Celsius to convert sunlight to energy? Just wondering.
Yep. That's what I assume. (I double-checked my text on that -- we're okay. 😀). I wonder if, on sunny days, if the snowpack is slightly warmer than freezing, whether they can eat light when they're there just beneath the surface under snow?
I absolutely love, Turning Toward Fern Light. I feel so fortunate, this is my state, and I read your essays as if you are talking directly to me. Answering my questions that I have not asked yet. Why is that particular kind of Fern still green and poking fronds above the early snowpack, I walk by every day and wonder. And the list goes on.
Incidentally, my nickname, Fern, and part of my email address, came from the mid 80’s, when my love of Ferns resulted in me often found carrying a shovel full of dirt and Fern out of the forest to plant in my woodland garden. I know, poaching. At least I can say each plant lived and established new generations in my yard. You can rightfully scold me, but I am well beyond the statute of limitations. And my shovel , empty of ferns.
Thanks, Erin. My home state of Vermont has a rich and diverse fern fauna as well (and lots of fern botanists). As you probably know, it seems that ferns are good gateway plants for budding botanists (including me). One of my first botany walks (decades ago) was with the incredible botanist Liz Thompson here in Vermont. In any event, it's nice to see them green in winter!
I love ferns, in fact I did an undergraduate project on ferns as part of my Botany degree. Here our closest relation to the Intermediate Wood Fern would be Dryopteris filis-mas, commonly known as the Male Fern (in comparison to the more delicate Lady Fern (Athyrium filis-femina).)
Thanks, Juliet! And filix-mas is certainly evergreen, right? What about D. dilitata? It seems robust.
Full of grace and respite, both of which we long for in our cells. Thank you for a grateful little break.
But what, please tell, are iconoclastic insects?
Well, I guess it would be those that are out and about in winter, including those winter moths reproducing in the cold (and yet perhaps scarce near you). But here they are: https://chasingnature.substack.com/p/sex-and-flight-in-the-cold
Perhaps I'll write a post on winged winter insects!
I absolutely love this post. As a person who works in climate science, it’s easy to both be pessimistic about the current state of the world and to be hyper focused niche scientific findings. This essay is the exact reminder i needed to just take a step back and embrace the magic of the natural world.
Thanks, "future bird lady." Yes, let's embrace the magic and keep the faith!
Oh, yes. If only we were more like the ferns...
And you inspired me to get another book! And I will read it soon.
Concerning ferns- with my hiking buddies we looked for yet another green in winter fern, Botrychium dissectum, on Mt Toby. But alas the leaf litter covered it! We did see your wood ferns, polypody, along with Christmas ferns...
As always, thank you Bryan.
Whoa -- a Botrychium green in winter! I had no clue. I suspect not all of Botrychium are?
Oh, green but to brownish after a hard frost. They keep their shape.
I’m going to think about eating light… all day. Thank you.
Wonderful! Were we ourselves able to eat light, what might we pair it with? Drinking birdsong? 😀
That left me breathless.
This means a lot to me coming from you. ❤️
I envision the light filling every part of me as I eat it fully satisfied.
Beautiful, Bryan, from start to finish. I might quibble with your use of "prosaic" to describe ferns, but I know what you meant. Of course my fern bias might be at play here. I had a line in a very early poem - a lifetime ago - that was something like "I've fallen in with ferns." Not sure if you've had a chance to go to NZ, but it's marvelous to be hiking days-deep in a forest there and be surrounded by tree ferns and ground-level ferns too. I almost stepped on a kiwi that was hiding beneath one... Anyway, thanks for a piece as elegant and lovely as a fern.
Thanks, Jason. Yeah, I've seen some of the tree ferns in the tropics, but have never been to NZ or Australia -- I guess they're temperate there? (I need to get there anyway to see birdwings before I leave this Earth.) And, agreed: those are by no means prosaic! 😀
Love this article. Will subscribe in the new year. Thank you for sharing such wonderful info and sentiments.
Thanks reading and writing, Gina!
Also in Vermont, I am amazed on each of my walks how some forest/meadow edges are easier to see through now that many of the ferns have died back. Then, there are little green ferns poking through the snow like wrapped gifts.
The Light Eaters, great book.
Thanks, Stacy. I do like the feel and the "visibility" in the northern hardwoods this time of year. (It's also easier to keep track of my pup Odin running around in the woods.)
I learned the term "Sporangia spores" from a read this past week. So many things to learn.
I have twin doggos, I'm just hoping the snow will slow them down a little!
Like plants, I find myself drawn to the light of your writing.
Aw, shucks — you've made my day, Susan. Thanks so much!
P.S. A Great Lakes native, I'll be ever-bonded to the region, especially Superior.
I’m reading The Light Eaters right now. There is SO much to learn and think about. I’ll have to reread the book at least one more time before I start sharing it. I’m already telling my friends “I think you’ll love this book!”
... and she's a great writer.
Love the tenacity of plants...
They offer us beauty, wonder and a great model for life
Thanks, Barbara. I'm glad you invoked "tenacity" (and now wish I had included it in my essay 😀)!
Woods walk, pause to stare
at light-eating beings galore.
In awe of it all.
Poetry in comments -- a good thing!
Thanks, Bryan for the beautiful, snowy fern image opener and your notes on "'The Light Eaters' by Zoë Schlanger. A nimble and smart writer, Schlanger negotiates and explains the rugged intellectual terrain of..." I found it a pretty interesting journey, as well, but love especially your closing of the loop that inspired her title: botanist Tim Plowman's "They can eat light, isn’t that enough?” In anticipation of that coming turn toward the light, my friend... Namasté
As always, you, my friend, are a gift. I wonder ... since we're eating, might a feast of light go well with Coho or Chinook (or both)?
As with most things, it depends greatly on the moment and just whom life offers us as sustenance... I have a feeling that even a peanut butter sandwich on stale bread would seem like a feast while sitting on a log in the woods with you...
Thanks for the smile, brother.
Hi B. I wonder, at what point is it too cold for those hearty Dryopteris (Dryopteri??) to perform light eating? Water must move through tissues for photosynthesis, so even though they and the Christmas ferns and the mosses remain green throughout, do they need the temps to be above 0 Celsius to convert sunlight to energy? Just wondering.
M.
Yep. That's what I assume. (I double-checked my text on that -- we're okay. 😀). I wonder if, on sunny days, if the snowpack is slightly warmer than freezing, whether they can eat light when they're there just beneath the surface under snow?
One of us need to become fern for a while to find out. I'm willing.
I absolutely love, Turning Toward Fern Light. I feel so fortunate, this is my state, and I read your essays as if you are talking directly to me. Answering my questions that I have not asked yet. Why is that particular kind of Fern still green and poking fronds above the early snowpack, I walk by every day and wonder. And the list goes on.
Incidentally, my nickname, Fern, and part of my email address, came from the mid 80’s, when my love of Ferns resulted in me often found carrying a shovel full of dirt and Fern out of the forest to plant in my woodland garden. I know, poaching. At least I can say each plant lived and established new generations in my yard. You can rightfully scold me, but I am well beyond the statute of limitations. And my shovel , empty of ferns.
No scolding from me, Lor/Fern! I think ferns are a great intro to botany, gateway plants!