I am enjoying the past few cool mornings. I lace up my boots and head down the road, relishing the cool breeze on my face as the sun rises over the hills in the east. It gives me a chance to take an inventory of the new flowers and plants up here on the hill. Nothing out of the ordinary. But each year I am happy to see the progression of spring to summer.
Wild garlic is a new favorite of mine. It is not a showy plant. It doesn't have the pizzazz of the colorful flowers that herald the arrival of spring with vibrant yellow and blue and deep pink, In fact, it is downright ugly if you want to be truthful about it. It is tall and gangly...kind of like a teenager's legs before their body grows to match them. The brown nuggets that form the base are a deep purplish brown color. The pink flowers that grow from the center are a dainty, shy kind of pink. Not robust at all.
According to my Ozark wildflowers book the wild garlic "has strong antiseptic properties." It goes on to say early settlers and Native Americans used the juice to treat wounds, burns, bee stings, and snakebites. The list also includes using it for" fever, blood disorders, lung troubles, internal parasites. skin problems, hemorrhoids, earaches, rheumatism, and arthritis" It was also a help for early explorers of the area. When Marquette made his way from Green Bay to the present site of Chicago one of the food staples was wild garlic.
Everyday I check to see how it is fairing. Will it wilt in the hot, dry
summer days to come? Will it shrivel up and fade into the weeds sure to encroach upon it? Or will it stand tall, there on the rocky roadside and eventually drop its brown seeds into soil.....resting until another spring brings it back to life. I like to think it will.
Sort of a metaphor for life as we know it. We may not be the most beautiful or showy....but even in our plainness we are strong....sure to endure no matter what.
