Top Ten Life Plants of 2016

It's hard to believe yet another growing season has come and gone. Spring and summer flew by in a blur your narrator can hardly comprehend with autumn currently in its own hurry as well. I really don't know where the time goes and find it going by at an ever increasing rate. With the end of the growing season comes the annual updating of my botanical life list. As time goes on and I become more and more acquainted with my local and regional flora, the frequencies of making new floral friends decreases. This makes each additional life species marked off the list feel perhaps just a bit more gratifying than the last. 2016 had its fair share of exciting and unbelievable discoveries as the forthcoming ten different plants are sure to show. This is a personal list of sorts and one of the more fun pieces of reminiscing I get to do each year. My activity on here has really waned the last two years as life gets more busy and I find less free time and energy to put into the blog but I definitely try to make time for this specific topic.

This past year I had the opportunity to do some traveling across the nation and made acquaintances with a striking number of new plants. Week long trips out to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado and Adirondacks of New York were the biggies, along with some weekend trips out of state. While I made plenty of new botanical friends here in Ohio, none managed to make the top ten list. There were just too many to choose from from out-of-state travel. All ten plants were species I'd never had the pleasure of seeing in the flesh before; many only dreamily through a computer monitor or from the pages of my extensive botanical library. Some I specifically set out to see, others I came across by complete chance. Each one aroused emotions of excitement and disbelief, often erasing years of anxious desire. 

All that being said, let's begin the countdown of my favorite life plants from an unforgettable spring, summer and fall of botanizing throughout North America...

Alpine Clover (Trifolium dasyphyllum)

Starting off the countdown at number ten is the aptly named alpine clover (Trifolium dasyphyllum). This attractive legume was one of a handful of native clovers seen during my partner Kara and I's vacation out to the Rocky Mountain National Park region of Colorado this past June and July. The alpine meadows at 12,000'+ were out of this world with dozens of different wildflowers in spectacular bloom but these strawberry and cream looking wonders were among my favorites. I'm already beyond behind sharing this trip and those before/after it in blog form but fingers crossed I get to them one of these days.

Creeping Snowberry (Gaultheria hispidula)

Life plant number nine was easily one of the most exciting of all the plant sightings while immersed in the boggy peatlands of the Adirondacks, as well as one of the daintiest. The evergreen vining stems of the creeping snowberry (Gaultheria hispidula) is a plant long gone from Ohio's landscape but thankfully common in the Northeast and northern Great Lakes region. I'll admit I've come across this species before in my travels but only as an undistinguished vegetative plant, so seeing it adorned with its adorable snow white fruit was like truly seeing it for the first time. The white fruits are actually edible and have a wintergreen taste to them, essentially making it Nature's tic-tac like breath mints. The shaded mossy hummocks at the margins of a black spruce and tamarack bog were covered in a dense tangle of this plant and a perfect opportunity to soak in its charming demeanor.

From L to R: Michaux's Sedge (Carex michauxiana), Toothed Flatsedge (Cyperus dentatus), Bog Sedge (Carex. magellanica)

As a self-admitted and diagnosed sedge-head, I don't think I'd be living up to the title if I didn't share some of my favorite sedge lifers. So number eight on this countdown of 2016's best life plants are three species from my time in the plethora of wetlands in the Adirondacks. I came across nearly 50 species of Cyperaceae while up there and Michaux's sedge (Carex michauxiana), toothed flatsedge (Cyperus dentatus), and bog sedge (Carex magellanica) were my favorites. None of the three are known to occur in Ohio and all are more or less restricted to higher quality fens/shorelines/bogs in the northern latitudes of the continent. The bog sedge (on the far right in the photo) was an especially invigorating find as it's been on my 'most wanted sedges' list for many years and evaded me time and time again. I'll never forget exploring a small pocket of open bog meadow and finding its sphagnum hummocks covered with them, their chocolate brown ripened perigynia shattering at the slightest touch.

Wild Bleeding Hearts (Dicentra eximia)

Number seven on this countdown has the distinction of being the only plant on this list not from Colorado or New York. Instead, the gorgeous wild bleeding hearts (Dicentra eximia) is from Kara and I's weekend backpacking trip this past spring to the stunning landscape of West Virginia's Dolly Sods region. Many may recognize this plant as something you see in the garden and/or landscape setting but it's actually a species indigenous to the Appalachians. It's rather uncommon throughout its limited range and most prevalent in the Virginias. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the important detail that it was my partner Kara who actually found this wildflower and not me! She called me over to see a "really neat pink flower we hadn't seen yet" while exploring Bear Rock's heath barrens, which made me ponder what it could be as this wasn't on my radar for this trip. It was nestled in a mossy crevice between boulders and an impressive spot by her. I think she's developing quite the sharp eye for plants!

Rock Spike-moss (Selaginella rupestris)

Rock Spike-moss (Selaginella rupestris)

The criteria for how a plant species makes it on my annual list of best life plants goes much deeper than just physical beauty. If that was the lone requirement I have my doubts that plant number six would have made the final cut. Rock spike-moss (Selaginella rupestris) is another one of the those oddities that I've had the botanical hots for for many years. Despite what its name may suggest, this plant is not really a moss but rather a fern ally related to the quillworts (Isoetes) and lycopods (Lycopodiopsida). It's an ancient and impressive little species with its sporangia (spore-bearing structure) tucked singly at the base of its fertile leaves, or sporophylls. One thing rock spike-moss does have in common with true bryophytes is being poikilohydric, meaning it come withstand severe bouts with drought/water loss and appear dead as a door nail, only to bounce right back to green, lush life after a rain. This primitive little spore producer is widespread throughout North America but unfortunately long extirpated from Ohio and a plant I've searched out for years in its historic haunts. The patch photographed here was found clinging to a rocky bluff overlooking the Hudson River while out in upstate New York.

View from Devil's Head Lookout in Colorado's Pike National Forest

Northern Spleenwort (Asplenium septentrionale)

Coming in at number five on this countdown is a plant I took more of a risk to see than I really care to admit. While out in Colorado, Kara and I did the well-known Devil's Head Lookout hike in Pike National Forest. It's a three mile jaunt gaining over 1,000 feet in elevation to a mountain top's fire tower with unbelievable views. While at the top of the narrow ridge, I noticed some tufts of green emerging from a crevice that I suspected could be the rare northern spleenwort (Asplenium septentrionale), a fern I desperately hoped to come across while out west. The fern looks very frustratingly similar to a simple tuft of grass and requires a close look to see its 'leaves' contain the characteristic small forks at their ends. My problem was the crevice was too far away to see clearly or photograph, so I slid out onto the ledge and scooted as close to the edge as I could with a several hundred foot fall to my assured death just a few feet and quick slip in front of me. I thoroughly scared Kara half to death and truthfully myself as well. I'd been pretty upset had a worthless clump of grass tricked me into taking such a risk. My palms are a bit sweaty just thinking back on my stupidity BUT it was indeed the northern fern and worth the risk to me! It was the only time I ever saw any and walked away with my life and a good story. I've already accepted that botany could very well end up being the end of me...

Water Marigold (Bidens beckii)

Water Marigold (Bidens beckii)

Shifting back to the the Adirondacks of New York finds us at life plant number four on our countdown. My early August visit to New York produced many life plants but few meant more than finally coming face to face with the golden blossoms of water marigold (Bidens beckii). Like some of the other plants listed above, this unique wildflower has been extirpated from Ohio's borders for over a century and was a delightful sight in the calm shallows of a bay in the Hudson River during a paddle with friends. It's a hard plant to miss when flowering with its single terminal flower suddenly emerging from the water's surface. The simple, stalkless emergent leaves are a stark contrast to the water marigold's finely filiform, fan-like submerged leaves that run the length of the underwater stem, sometimes nearly ten feet to the substrate. Looking at the whole thing makes it seem like two completely different plants merged together in an experiment gone awry. It also reminds me of an iceberg with so little of the plant visible and the bulk of it unseen below. Water marigold was once widespread and common in the Northeast and Great Lakes region but is becoming increasingly more rare throughout its range due to the negative impacts on its aquatic habitats.

Gunnison's Mariposa Lily (Calochortus gunnisonii)

Gunnison's Mariposa Lily (Calochortus gunnsonii)

Before heading out to Colorado this past summer, I spent many weeks leading up to our trip daydreaming and researching what members of its diverse flora I wanted to see. I came up with far more than I ever reasonably imagined I'd find but the mariposa lilies (Calochortus) were an instant must-meet. As luck would have it I'm able to happily list life plant number three on this countdown as the Gunnison's mariposa lily (C. gunnsonii). During the long, remote drive to the Devil's Head Lookout trail head, I spotted a tall flash of white in my peripheral vision that caused me to slam on the brakes and put the Subaru into reverse. Good thing I did as that curiosity turned out to be the only mariposa lily I'd see the entire trip. It was in perfect condition and speckled with water droplets from the ever-present rainstorms we dodged most of the week. I've marveled at this genus' beauty for years and to finally see one's floral perfection in person was pure botanical bliss!

Rocky Mountain Bristlecone Pine (Pinus aristata)

Rocky Mountain Bristlecone Pine (Pinus aristata)

Those that know me personally or have followed this blog from the beginning know that trees were my first botanical love and remain a passionate favorite to this day. So it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that number two would end up being one of, if not the coolest tree species this tree hugger has yet seen in the Rocky Mountain bristlecone pine (Pinus aristata). Their ancient, gnarled form made each individual tree a work of art and unlike anything I'd seen before. Some trees from this grove in the Mount Goliath Natural Area at about 11,500' have been dated to over 1,600 years old and definitely looked the part! It's hard to fathom thriving, let alone surviving for over a millennium at the tree line in the cold, harsh and windswept climate of the subalpine that few other trees can tolerate. My time among these primal trees was an emotional experience and I came away with a newfound respect and fascination for my beloved woody plants. Even Kara completely understood and grasped the impressive nature and importance of these trees and loved every second among them as well. I'll make a genuine tree hugger of her yet! It's worth mentioning that another species of bristlecone pine (P. longaeva) found further to the west in California, Nevada, and Utah is known as the oldest living individual organism on Earth with some specimens confirmed to be over 5,000 years old! Incredible...

Clustered Lady's Slipper Orchid (Cypripedium fasciculatum)

If you've been following along on this countdown and been wondering, or perhaps even worried about when the first orchid would make its appearance fear no more! It took awhile but I naturally saved the best for last and present to you the number one life plant from 2016. The clustered lady's slipper orchid (Cypripedium fasciculatum) was easily my most wanted botanical item during Kara and I's week long trek out to Colorado. I didn't have much in the way of solid leads or ideas on where to look for this elusive orchid other than its affinity for cool, shaded fir/spruce forests around 9,000-11,000' in elevation. I figured my chances were slim-to-none and wasn't holding my breath on coming across any, especially in prime blooming condition. Little did I know how lucky I would get!

Clustered Lady's Slipper Orchid (Cypripedium fasciculatum)

Clustered Lady's Slipper Orchid (Cypripedium fasciculatum)

Everyone know's my obsession and addiction with wild orchids and after seeing so much of the east's wonderful diversity, I was really excited at my chance to gain a few new life species while out west at a favorable time of the year. I ended up seeing a half dozen or so species of orchid but none had the same inebriating effect as the clustered lady's slippers. Kara and I were on a long hike in the depths of Rocky Mountain National Park when I caught a glimpse of them blooming in the sparsely vegetated spruce needle duff along the trail and could barely contain my shock or keep my heart in my chest. I ended up finding a lot of them spread throughout the area in a range of colors, from deep maroon to a more yellowish orange-green. The flowers were smaller than I'd imagined and distinctly clustered as the name would suggest. One might argue they aren't all that aesthetically pleasing, especially compared to other members of its genus but they were ineffably gorgeous to me. My time with them was too short and the drizzly conditions didn't make photographing them easy but in the end it didn't really matter to a beggar like me. Just reminiscing on such an incredible experience has me on cloud nine all over again. I can't wait to get back out to the mountain west and hunt down the rest of the continent's lady's slipper orchids.

I hope you've enjoyed this look back on my favorite finds and life plants of 2016. I'll be curious to hear from you, my readers if any of these are on your life lists or plants you've had the honor of coming into contact with before. If anything I hope I've warmed your spirits even a wee bit as the reality of another wildflower season come and gone sinks in. If 2017 is anything like my 2016, it will be full of fantastic finds, exciting discoveries and more memories made soaking in the natural world's beauty and diversity. I certainly hope to find some time this winter to look back on my trips out to Colorado and New York in greater detail. I'd certainly like to and know the few dedicated readers still hanging around for new posts would too.

- ALG -

Top Ten Life Plants of 2015

It's hard to believe yet another year has come and gone. Spring and summer flew by in a blur your narrator can hardly comprehend, with autumn currently in its own hurry as well. Despite its rush, the 2015 field season was one to remember. There's never enough time to see and do everything on your list during a calendar year but then that's what makes each and every new experience you do have all the more memorable. For a botanist, or at least this botanist, one of the most rewarding tasks at the conclusion of the growing season is updating the life list. As time goes on and I become more and more acquainted with my local and regional flora, the frequencies of making new floral friends decreases. This makes each additional life species marked off the list feel just a bit more gratifying than the last. All the more reason to travel further outside one's botanical comfort zone, I say.

With our first frosts already in the past, I'd like to reminisce on my personal top ten favorite "lifers" from 2015's botanical forays. Just about all of them came outside Ohio's borders this year from places like Ontario, Wyoming or West Virginia. All ten plants were species I'd never had the pleasure of seeing in the flesh before; many only dreamily through a computer monitor or from the pages of my extensive botanical library. Some I specifically set out to see, others I came across by complete chance. Each one aroused emotions of excitement and disbelief, often erasing years of anxious desire. Many a tear of joy was shed while looking upon these featured wildflowers, which only served to reaffirm my passion and ambition for seeking out these often-times rare and magnificent wonders.

All that being said, let's begin the countdown of my favorite life plants from an unforgettable spring, summer and fall of botanizing throughout North America...

Rocky Mountain Fringed Gentian (Gentianopsis thermalis). Wyoming, Early August

Starting off the countdown at number ten is the Rocky Mountain fringed gentian (Gentianopsis thermalis). Its electric blue petals graced many wet alpine meadows, fen-like stream sides and groundwater seeps during my time out in the Wind River Range of western Wyoming this past August. I've seen two of its closely related and equally stunning brethren (G. crinita and G. virgata, respectively) back in Ohio, but the surrounding scenery for these delicate beauties put them on another level of spectacular.

Northern Comandra (Geocaulon lividum). Bruce Pen., Ontario, June.

Northern Comandra (Geocaulon lividum). Bruce Pen., Ontario, June.

The criteria for how a plant species ends up making this most esteemed of lists goes much deeper than physical beauty. If that was the lone requirement, I hesitate to think lifer number nine would have even sniffed the final cut. What northern comandra (Geocaulon lividum) may lack in showiness, it more than makes up for in rarity and uniqueness. It's only known to occur sparingly in less than a dozen states; all bordering Canada, where it's much more common. It grows in cold coniferous forests on stabilized dunes and on rare occasions in bogs/fens in the Great Lakes region. It's much more conspicuous in fruit when it trades its small green axillary flowers for a striking orange-red drupe. When I came across this while up on Ontario's Bruce peninsula back in June, I was ecstatic to finally makes its acquaintance. I instantly recognized its unusual appearance and giddily wrote its name down on the day's plant list. Even better was the lush carpet of moss and reindeer lichen it emerged from, often times side-by-side with ram's head lady's slippers (Cypripedium arietinum).

Linear-leaved Gentian (Gentiana linearis). Dolly Sods Wilderness, WV, October.

The linear-leaved gentian (Gentiana linearis) comes in at number eight on the countdown of 2015's best life plants. It was just a couple weekends ago during an autumn backpacking trip to West Virginia's Dolly Sods Wilderness that I finally got to see this procrastinator of a wildflower. The Sods plateau's boggy meadows and muskegs contained hundreds upon hundreds of these gentians but only a literal few still held corollas exhibiting their sky blue color. The pair photographed above were the best to be seen, glowing like sapphire beacons among a sea of browning vegetation and overcast skies.

Green Spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes-ramosum). B.P., Ontario, June

Limestone Oak Fern (Gymnocarpium robertianum). B.P., Ontario, June

The decision making process in putting this list together can be as difficult as it is fun. And since I make the rules, I decided to call number seven a tie between two ferns that were growing literally only yards apart. The aforementioned Bruce peninsula in Ontario is a true botanical wonderland known the world around for its plethora of odd and disjunct ferns. The two celebrated spore-producers seen here are the green spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes-ramosum) and limestone oak fern (Gymnocarpium robertianum). Both are well outside their normal, albeit already limited distributions on the Bruce's narrow spit of limestone. Their high-quality alvar habitat was full of other fascinating plant life but more on that in a future post.

Great Lakes Iris (Iris lacustris). Bruce Peninsula, Ontario, June

Moving onto life plant number six has us staying on the Bruce for one of the most dainty wildflowers I've yet seen. The Great Lakes iris (Iris lacustris) was one I missed during my initial visit to the region four years earlier and managed to catch still in flower upon my return this past June. This tiny iris' size is lost without scale in the photo but each blossom is the size of a silver dollar! They are a globally rare, federally threatened species endemic to northern Lake Michigan and Lake Huron's cobbled, sandy shorelines. These occurred just about everywhere the habitat was suitable along our section of Lake Huron, even blooming just outside the cabin's door.

Hart's Tongue Fern (Asplenium scolopendrium). Bruce Pen., Ontario, June

If it's not broke, don't fix it. I think that's a good line of advice and since the Bruce isn't broke, let's stick with it for life plant number five. As I mentioned earlier, the Bruce is widely known for its abundance of unusual fern taxa, with perhaps none as sought after as the hart's tongue fern (Asplenium scolopendrium). While somewhat common across the pond in Europe, it only occurs as a local anomaly in a handful of places in the entirety of North America (AL, TN, NY, nMI and Ontario). I made sure to visit the cool, moist, rocky terrain beneath gorgeous Inglin Falls outside Owen Sound for this phenomenal fern and was not disappointed. It was yet another missed lifer during my first stint up on the Bruce I was proud to check off.

Southern Monkshood (Aconitum uncinatum). Scioto Brush Creek, OH October

Ohio is only represented once on this year's list but what a plant it is! Number four was one of my most unexpected discoveries, as well as one of the most breathtaking. Southern monkshood (Aconitum uncinatum) is one of the state's most imperiled and endangered of wildflowers; growing only in a select few locations along Scioto Brush Creek, arguably Ohio's finest and most intact waterway. Southern monkshood typically blooms from late August into September, so I wasn't expecting much when I gave one of the known sites a hike through earlier this month. As luck would have it a single plant still bore a few blossoms in superb photogenic shape! A species of the southeastern US, this location marks one of only a handful of known sites north of the Ohio River. Long may it persist along this spectacular stretch of water.

Southern Small Yellow Lady's Slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. parviflorum).
Lewis Co., Kentucky, May.

Back in May, I posted on here an account of arguably the most serendipitous orchid find of my life thus far in the southern small yellow lady's slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. parviflorum). Myself and good friend and very knowledgeable botanist, Roger Beadles were poking around in northern Kentucky for the rare Kentucky lady's slipper (C. kentuckiense) when we stumbled across this small patch of 2015's life plant number three. It was a complete surprise and the last of eastern North America's lady's slipper orchids I needed to see. You can read all about that experience by following this link here. Later in the year, myself and some others came across an intriguing patch of pretty darn small lady's slipper plants on a preserve in Adams Co., Ohio. It was late August and the plants essentially vegetative only but they definitely sparked my interest and have earned a future visit this upcoming May. I have my hopes they could be the first documented occurrence of the southern small yellows on Ohio soil. Adding a new orchid to the state's flora is a dream bucket list item to be sure! Stay tuned...

Hooded Ladies'-tresses (Spiranthes romanzoffiana). Green River Lakes, WY, August

Speaking of orchids and bucket list items, it brings me a lot of pride and joy to have this next wildflower be number two on my countdown of 2015's best lifers. For those that know me personally and/or follow this blog with any regularity assuredly knows I'm obsessed with wild orchids. It's been a major life goal to see and photograph all 47 species indigenous to Ohio, and I've been sitting painfully close at 46 for over a year now. Not any more! The hooded ladies'-tresses (Spiranthes romanzoffiana) was the last to elude me and was a complete and utter surprise find while out in the mountains of western Wyoming this August. Dozens of them lined the banks of pristine rushing mountain streams and their adjacent meadows, glistening like a jewel in the bright sunlight. It's incredible to think I've now seen all 47 species, even if some haven't been within Ohio...yet. Just seeing them regardless of location has been special enough. More on these and this trip later!

Calypso (Calypso bulbosa). Bruce Peninsula, Ontario, June

If orchids won silver and bronze in this countdown they might as well make it a clean sweep with the gold as well. 2015's most exceptional and emotional life plant was none other than the elusive calypso or fairy slipper (Calypso bulbosa). If I returned to the Bruce to see any one thing, it was this reclusive orchid of the northern woods. I could barely contain my excitement on the hike back to its known location on Flowerpot Island with butterflies in my stomach. Was it still blooming? Would I even find it? What if I was too late like last time? I needn't worry as a dozen or so calypsos were in pristine flower under the dense shade of its coniferous haunt. I spent a long time sitting in front of them in silence and stillness, admiring their miniscule appearance packed with delicate detail and color. It was a moment nearly a decade in the making from the first time I saw this species in one of my first wildflower books. The calypsos were still wet from the previous night's rain, or maybe it was from the tears that fell from finally laying eyes on these most astonishing orchids. Much, much more on this trip and moment in future posts!

I hope you've enjoyed this look back onto my favorite finds and life plants of 2015. I'll be curious to hear from you, my readers if any of these are on your life lists or plants you've had the honor of coming into contact with before. If anything I hope I've warmed your spirits even a wee bit as the reality of another wildflower season come and gone sinks in. If 2016 is anything like my 2015, it will be full of fantastic finds, exciting discoveries and more memories made soaking in the natural world's beauty and diversity. As I mentioned earlier, many of these plants/moments have their own blog posts forth coming, so I hope you'll look forward to that as winter sets in and we all begin anew the dream of spring.

- ALG -

Find "The Buckeye Botanist" on Instagram!

Sunrise over Flat Top Mountain and Green River Lake in the Wind River Range, Wyoming. August 2015.

Hello, everyone! It's been a while since I was last able to post on here but rest assured I'm still among the breathing and with more material and topics than ever to share. It's been an incredibly busy growing season for your narrator. Exciting trips to the Bruce peninsula, Ontario back in early June; Wind River Mountains of western Wyoming in August and the Dolly Sods Wilderness region in West Virginia just last weekend were unforgettable. Rest assured, I will be bringing those tales and more to you in the near future with three photos here to whet your appetite. With winter on the not-so-distant horizon, I expect to have more time at the keyboard.

Blackwater Falls, Blackwater Falls State Park, West Virginia. October 2015

All that being said, I'd like to take a quick moment to say I'm now on Instagram! (@The_Buckeye_Botanist). The move is long overdue but better late than never. The reason I'm taking the time to share this is it's an extremely easy and fun way to keep up with me in my day-to-day work and travels. I post nearly every day, many of those days with multiple photographs. It takes only a few minutes time out of my day to toss up a photo or two with a short paragraph to accompany it; rather than sit down and write up my notoriously long-winded posts on here. Just envision them as bite-sized blogs you can digest in a matter of seconds.

Limestone shorelines of Flowerpot Island, Fathom Five National Marine Park, Bruce Peninsula, Ontario, Canada. June 2015.

For those not already following me on Instagram, you can find me on there @The_Buckeye_Botanist. If you enjoy my rambling on here, as inconsistent as it can be, you're sure to savor a much more steady diet of the natural wonders of Ohio and beyond on Instagram! I hope to see you on there and feel free to like/comment/share any of my material. Don't be shy to interact with me on there personally either! So be sure to check out and follow @The_Buckeye_Botanist on Instagram today!

It Looks Like Rain...

I've been an admirer of Mother Nature's artwork for as long as I can remember and few pieces leave me more breathless than a raucous thunderstorm looming on the horizon...

Please click the photo to see it in a large, higher resolution

Growing up on the glaciated till plains of west-central Ohio, I got my seasonal fill of them every spring and summer.  The flat landscape of agriculture country allowed for a straight view west with little to get in the way.  You could watch a super cell's anvil-like thunderhead pierce the atmosphere and roll in for miles and miles before having to finally duck for cover.

Southeastern Ohio has plenty of summer thunderstorms as well but the rugged topography offers little chance at visually enjoying the building anticipation of their arrival.  I love living down in the hills and hollers but storm watching is one aspect of my home area I often miss.  So while back there this past weekend I was beyond pleased at the opportunity to reacquaint myself with that treasured feeling of awe and calm before the storm.  I was mowing the family farm when I saw this storm approaching from the southwest and knew we were in for a doozy.  The clouds churned and lightning danced from the bottom of the cell with the reverberating bass of thunder following.  The torrent of rain and blowing winds that came with it were equally impressive.

It felt good to experience my first quality storm of the season and hope there's more to come.  We could really use the rain as it is and I'd welcome an all-day steady soaker just as much.  It's fascinating to think of the energy that comes together to create these monsters only to dissipate to nothing shortly after.  Nature never ceases to amaze me.