Look, Don't Pick

Although it's probably impossible to see, there are

three turtles sunning on a stick that lies beyond

and between the two trees in the middle of this photo.

I recently learned of a national wildlife refuge near my home, and I've been excited to visit it because it includes wetlands, a habitat I haven't much explored for edible plants. Alas, my excitement burst when we pulled into the parking lot and saw that, although hunting and fishing were allowed, picking vegetation wasn't. It turned out that dogs also were not allowed, so we had to drive ours back home before starting on our hike (apparently this no-dogs rule did not apply to the two women who were just ending a walk with their dogs as we left the parking lot, but I digress.)

A better view of some different turtles.

After depositing our dog at home (and calming my middle son, who had become hysterically concerned that the police might arrest us for bringing our dog to the refuge, despite the fact that she had not left our vehicle and was certainly not disturbing any wildlife), we were on our way. I was sorely disappointed that I wouldn't be able to return to the refuge to collect anything I identified, but I reminded myself that just identifying plants is good practice. Plants in their natural habitat don't always look like the pictures in the guidebooks (although some do, especially when the guidebook is a good one); what's more, just as every person looks a little different from every other person, plants within the same species don't look exactly alike. It's also helpful to get a mental picture of the habitat in which a plant lives; if I could identify any plants in the wildlife refuge, it would help me to recognize those same plants in similar places where I might be allowed to forage.

Chickweed

Our trail started out hugging the side of a river, and all along the path I kept seeing patches of the same lush plant sprouting through the brown leaves. I thought I recognized it as chickweed, which supposedly is ubiquitous but which I had yet to find outside of my foraging books. I bent down and plucked a single leaflet (shh!). The two pairs of opposite leaves and the single line of hairs along the stem confirmed my suspicions. (I tried to keep the leaf for further confirmation against a picture in a guidebook at home, but it had wilted by the time I got there.) Given the restrictions on picking vegetation and my desire to compare my notes and the picture I took to the details in my books before consuming a new plant, I still haven't tasted chickweed, but it's supposed to be a mild-tasting and nutritious salad ingredient, so I hope to look for it in other wet places and find enough to make a good contribution to a meal. Last year the boys and I learned to identify sheep sorrel and wood sorrel, both of which grow all around our house and have a delectable lemony zing but are too strongly flavored to make a good salad all on their own. Until this weekend, I had only learned to identify one neutral green (wild spinach) to complement the sorrel, so this was an important and exciting step toward delicious all-wild salads.

This sign, reading "Shagbark Hickory," confirmed

my earlier identification of similar trees.

Although chickweed was the only new plant I found, I also came across a sign that positively confirmed my earlier identification of hickory trees (see photo). In addition, the boys (with help from their grandfather, who has been visiting us this week) got to touch a garter snake, catch a frog, and see a beaver lodge, several turtles, some ducks, and a large and gnarly wild apple tree. I also spotted some bushes with particularly red branches, which rang a bell and will require further investigation. We'll have to pay another visit to the refuge soon; as spring arrives in full force, we'll be sure to identify even more edible plants. And, if any happen to be considered invasive species, well, I just might see whether the ranger would bend the rules a little.

Catching frogs.