Journal of a Sabbatical

March 14, 2000

it takes a village

Today's Reading: Early Spring in Massachusetts: from the Journals of Henry David Thoreau edited by H. G. O. Blake

No wonder it takes me so long to read a book. Besides having to look up words I don't know, if a bird or a plant is mentioned, I have to know what species it is and what it looks like. As I mentioned the other day, Thoreau's journal entries this week have been heavy on mentions of lichens and the botanical index to the journals didn't give me enough info. I figured out a couple of them, but usnea stumped me. There were no species of Usnea in my field guide to New England and I couldn't find out anything about which ones might grow in Massachusetts on any of the lichen-related web sites I could find. I even tried my luck with askjeeves.com again and got an even more hilarious list of sites than when I asked it about custom-fitted seat belts (it gave me fitness equipment sites). In response to "What species of usnea lichen grows on maple trees in Massachusetts?" I got lots of tourist info about Massachusetts and a fair amount on maple sugar and endangered species. Nothing on lichens. At times like these, I turn to my personal botanist, Zsolt. So I emailed my question to him - adding that it would have been growing here in the 1850's. So, here's the story:

Hi Janet, it is the "greybeard lichen" (Usnea barbata) a typical epiphytic lichen hanging up to meter long beards from trees in the wet, cloudy region; it catches rain and helps in timely more outspread distribution. Also evaporates, delivering further humidity under forest canopy. In high alt. it can completely cover the bark of the trees (beautiful) but can not well establish on the trunks of fast growing trees with fast detaching bark. Usnea very sensitive to pollution, so I would be amazed seeing it in lower Mass. but it is fairly common in higher Berkshire, New Hampshire and forests along the coast. where still exist.

That pretty much answers both what it is and why I didn't know about it.

Reading the journals aloud to Nancy really increases my enjoyment of it. We compare our present climates with nineteenth century Concord, speculate on word origins, marvel at his descriptive powers... it's a combination of a book group and daily meditation. And having a botanist I can turn to in case of unidentified lichen intensifies the experience all the more. It takes a village to read ol' Henry David's journals I guess.

Reading aloud was always a big thing in my family of origin. Right up there with praying together (don't laugh). My mother read to us constantly. Sometimes my Dad even listened in if it was a really good story. Heck I was in college when she was reading Mrs. Frisbee and the Rats of NIMH to Donald and Thomas and my Dad and I were both riveted to it. OK, so it has a little more plot and character development than Mr. T's journals. Anyhow, I used to read to Elizabeth and Andrea constantly. I still do sometimes, though they are into silent reading in their respective rooms a lot nowadays.

The other day Andrea was telling me that Kevin is reading The Silmarillion to her. She's already read The Hobbit and the whole Lord of the Rings trilogy. She's really into it. I tried to read The Silmarillion years ago and couldn't get through it. Maybe I should have Kevin read it to me. Anyway, I told Andrea I was reading Thoreau's journals to Nancy every night. She thought that was pretty cool. (Yes she knows who Thoreau was. Within a certain radius of Walden Pond you learn about Thoreau by osmosis.) Maybe some time in the future I can do another yearlong project of reading the journals to Andrea.

Andrea's homework tonight involves writing down the days of the week in another language. Not any particular language, just another one. So La Madre calls me and asks me what they are in Latin. In Latin? No go. I can't name all 7. La Madre asks me what they are in Spanish. Spanish? La Madre speaks Spanish, I don't. I suggest French, but La Madre isn't hearing me well enough on the portable phone. She says I sound like I have a heavy cold and she wants to know if I'm all right. Uh, I'm fine. I don't think Kevin's phone is hearing aid compatible. I keep trying to name the days of the week in French but she keeps asking me what's Friday in Spanish. Meanwhile, Lizzy gets on the phone to call her friend Meggy to complain that her computer froze while they were conversing via AOL instant messages. We hear Meggy's phone number pulsing before Lizzy realizes we're on the phone. In the background I hear Andrea saying she needs the word for "river" and "their" or was it "there". In what language? Another language. This is getting stranger and stranger. I suggest that since Lizzy is taking Latin, maybe she could look it up in her Latin book. No go. It doesn't have the days of the week. Finally La Madre gives up and suggests Andrea ask Kevin what they are in ancient Greek. It takes a village to to Andrea's homework. And then some.

Y'know, there was a Hungarian dictionary complete with days of the week, right in front of me on my desk the whole time I was on the phone.