Showing posts with label Milkweed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Milkweed. Show all posts

Monday, November 9, 2009

Milkweed

Not as frosty-looking as yesterday's photos, here is Milkweed peaking in its seed dispersal behavior. These were taken Sunday in what turned out to be a wonderfully warm and sunny day--high sixties and clear blue skies.










Friday, July 3, 2009

Milkweed

I've often wondered, as I travel around the lake, if there are a myriad of names for water's many surfaces. White caps and smooth as glass come to mind, but perhaps one must be a sailor to know.


From The Farmer's Assistant:

"MILKWEED (Ascleiiiaa Syriaca.) Under Greens, we have mentioned the young stalks ot this plant, as an article of food. The plant is also called silkweed, on account of the pod it produces, which contains a vegetable silk. This, adhering to the seeds, is calculated to waft them by the winds in every direction.

This plant has been considered as a troublesome weed, in much of the northern parts of this State ; but perhaps the use which may be made of the pods, of the leaves, and of the milk of the plant, may be found much more than sufficient to counterbalance any inconvenience to be suffered from it.

We will first point out the use made of the pods, in France, as communicated by Mr. Genet:

' The silky substance collected from that plant (says he) is used in France, with great advantage, and is cultivated under the name ot houatte or wading. They card it, spin it, and manufacture it into velvets, cloth, and hose, with or without the intermixture of cotton or silk.

' It is also used for wading to stuff quilts and counterpanes; and for that purpose it is far preferable to cotton, being warmer and lighter. To card it by itself, they expose it in bags to the steam of water; but, mixed with silk or cotton, it does not require the intervention of the steam, to be made into rolls and spun. The velvets and other textures made of that vegetable silk, which I have seen in Europe, resembled, if not exceled, the brilliancy ot the silk; and, with proper mordants, had received the most elegant coloring.'

Mr. Genet subsequently adds: ' I have been informed that a French Gentleman, who attends the Dyers' department of the manufactory of Mr. Lynch, at Rome, has discovered that the leaves of the asclepias, and probably of all the apocinums, were an excellent substitute for the woad.'

See Woad.

' Dr. Low, of Albany, has also observed, that the.milky juices of the asclepias were equal, if not superior, in many respects, to the opium extracted from the white poppy.'

Thus it appears that this plant affords food, clothing, medicine, and matter for coloring. Probably its cultivation may yet be found a matter of considerable importance.

We have also seen the pods gathered, as a substitute for feathers, in making beds. We believe they might be most advantageously mixed with feathers, for that purpose."



The Mild-Weed Babies

Dainty milk-weed babies
Wrapped in cradles green,
Rocked by Mother Nature,
Fed by hands unseen.

Brown coats have the darlings,
Slips of milky white,
And wings—but that's a secret,—
They're folded out of sight.

The cradles grow so narrow,
What will the babies do?
They'll only grow the faster
And look up towards the blue.

And now they've found the secret,
They're flying through the air,
They've left the cradles empty,—
Do milk-weed babies care?

- Language Lessons


Nicholson, John. The Farmer's Assistant. Philadelphia, 1820. 232. Web. Google Book Search. 1 Jul 2009.

Wisely, John Benjamin; Griswold, Sarah E. Language Lessons. Chicago, Boston, 1906. Web. Google Book Search. 1 July 2009.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Milkweed

It's exciting to think about the prospect of capturing plants portraits throughout their seasonal cycles, seeing the beauty in each stage of growth.

Sometimes I have a bit of knowledge of the specimen, like with the Common Milkweed, Asclepias syriaca, so the ID is easy. No matter, there is always so much to learn about each creature.

As a kid, I've broken leaves to see the milk bleed. I've split the pods before they're ready to see the silk-like seed parachutes still forming. And of course, I've tossed the ready seeds to the wind.

I knew that milkweed always came back each year in the same spots. What I didn't know is that this perennial grew from horizontal underground stems. Oh, and notice the wisteria twining its way around the milkweed stalk. That's the same wisteria from yesterday's post. These plants were a few feet apart.

I'm reading fascinating accounts of the tremendous number of insect species that frequent this plant. At this point, that's about all I can say. If I thought the world of plants was complex, the insect word must be truly mind boggling! Plants first, bugs later...