Since we're still pretty much buried in icy, thick, treacherous snow that makes visiting my local natural areas challenging, I thought I'd share excerpts from a letter I received from my best friend, a professional gardener and naturalist who lives in extreme northeast Oklahoma on the edge of the Ozarks.
As it was, I didn't work outside today; I cheated. I suited up warm and walked to yonder pond I've known since age 11. Ilex decidua (possomhaw to the laity) still in good berry, possibly thanks to having each its vigilant sassy mockingbird.
The sun had gone under but an entire large field of little blustem, redgold ripe, was a vision nonetheless. A Great Horned Owl was commenting softly in the forest fence that runs along the far west side of the pasture. Those woods have grown into such a fearsome tangle I no longer go to the pond that was my wildest haunt in the 1950s. Hackberry Pond I called it on acount of the massive old tree, lightning-struck picturesque and incredibly still alive the last time I checked a couple of years back...
On the airport side of the road leading downtown, the city does more and more building. Just this last year, they destroyed the last bit of quasi-original prairie.