Weed Walks, Bug Season, and Animal Visitors

The good, the bad, and the magnificent

Viola odorata - Wild Violets

Ok, so I’m going to get it over with.

I said I wouldn’t complain this year.

I lied.

It’s Bug Season here in New Hampshire.

I’m going to talk about it first and be done with it. No photos of bugs will be used in this post. Especially not ticks. Don’t expect me to dig into their science. I just want them to go away.

I’ll bet they don’t advertise Bug Season in tourist information. The first spring I was here, in 2021, I asked my landlord when she would be up, and she replied, “I’ll be up after Bug Season.” I really didn’t know what she meant. Until I did.

I knew very little about ticks before moving here. In my first New Hampshire spring, they greeted me with a bang. They hung out on the door handle to my shed. Well, on every door handle, to be honest.

My first encounter was taking a gardening glove off to find one firmly attached to my hand. It’s a horrible sight, it really is.

They are disgusting little buggers. Tenacious. Sly. They usually like to go where you won’t notice them. I was lucky to see that one.

You can’t just flick them off once they’ve latched onto you. Oh, no. There’s a whole tick extraction process.

Everyone here has their own way of dealing. I’m still in being-a-baby-about-it mode. It’s the one time I wish I wasn’t single so someone else could do the removal for me, and I could just look the other way.

They love to burrow into warm moist areas of the body. Feel free to use your imagination. Yep. All of those places.

If you’re lucky, you’ll spot them before they attach. But it’s not good tick sense to just flick them onto the ground.

They will find you.

Maybe in your bed.

And so, even though I like to say I love all creatures - I let most of them go free and even escort spiders out of my bathroom - ticks get put in the rubbing alcohol-filled tick jar of death.

It is hard to kill a tick. Really hard. These tiny creatures were evidently around before the dinosaurs. They’re survivors.

Last year, I had the grass mowed around the house to keep the population down because they love tall grass. And I barely had any! Success, I thought.

But then this spring came, and, Oh My God.

They are EVERYWHERE.

I must have put at least twenty or thirty into the jar already.

They say they don’t jump. Yes, they do. I was writing my last post to you, and I literally watched a tick jump off the table and onto my hand. While I was typing.

Tick protocol says to take a hot shower every time you come into the house. Whether you need one or not.

One day I came in. Took a hot shower and washed and combed my hair. As I was brushing my teeth, I noticed a tick attached to my neck. Yep.

I refuse to let them keep me indoors. Or not walk barefoot on the earth.

Instead, I constantly check for them. Sometimes a strand of hair brushes against your neck, and you think, “It’s a tick!”

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, it’s just an ant. Or a mole. Or the best is if you actually feel it crawling on you so you can get it before it attaches.

If you’re someone who is terrified of them because of Lyme disease, here’s a great podcast that might help you.

Personally, I try not to let that fear enter my energy field. I’m just grossed out by them.

Maybe there are so many this year because we had a warm winter. Or lots of rain early in the spring. But, my new healthy skepticism has to wonder about the coincidence of a new Lyme disease vaccine being developed. Hmmm.

If you still think, “The government would NEVER do that!” check out this book: “Bitten: The Secret History of Lyme Disease and Biological Weapons.”

I’ve had several people who grew up in Maine and New Hampshire tell me that they never saw a tick growing up.

I have more horror stories. But I don’t want to give this little arachnid any more attention.

Instead, let me tell you about the blackfly. I think it’s considered a gnat. So tiny and lightweight that usually, you don’t realize they’ve sucked your blood until they’re long gone.

They start biting around Mother’s Day and last until Father’s Day-ish. How weird is that?

I have tried every remedy in the book for both the blackfly and the tick. Everything except DEET, which is where I draw the line.

The internet will say, “Just stay inside during the hours when they’re active.” Mid-morning. Dusk. Cloudy days. Etc. We pray for wind strong enough to blow the little blood-suckers away.

Their bite packs a punch and can last for days. Weeks. God help you if you get caught in a swarm of them.

Oh, the itching. It’s a painful kind of itch. You have no idea. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you live in the Florida Everglades. Or the Amazon. Or even Illinois, like my friend, Lisa.

Last winter, I was lying in bed thinking, “Oh my God. No bugs. No itching.” I love winter.

When the black fly makes its exit, enter the iridescent green bug-eyed deerfly. Holy crap. They take chunks out of your skin. They are big, and they are nasty.

Unlike the blackfly who likes to attack while you’re standing still, the deerfly likes your movement. I’ve had several deerfly bites get infected. They are no joke.

It’s kind of funny, though, that if they find their way into the house, they don’t know what to do. They just sit there, so grabbing them is pretty easy.

I know they all play a role on our planet. I do, I really do. But couldn’t they give us a warning sign? A buzz would be nice.

Maybe the bugs are teaching me tenacity. Endurance. Surrender.

And also, my moving mantra did include living on the edge of the woods, so what did I expect? I could be a Moose or a Deer and be ravaged by them. At least I can seek shelter inside.

And oh my goodness! The people who work outside all day. I really shouldn’t complain.

Don’t we have mosquitos? Yes, we do. But they don’t seem to bother me. I swear, when I lived in Michigan, I could go a whole summer without a mosquito bite.

Some good news is that the Dragonflies and Hummingbirds have arrived! And hallelujah! They love to eat bugs!

When I stop my whining long enough to think this through, I have to laugh at how the teeniest residents on this planet can bring us, holier-than-though humans, to our knees.

Ok, done! Thank you for letting me vent!

Now, onto my favorite thing that I’ve been doing this spring. Taking weed walks!

Except for the bugs, it has been a beautiful, cool spring. We had a deluge of rain early on, and I think the plants were really happy about that. They seem pretty healthy overall.

I have spent so much time just wandering the land here, getting to know the weeds. I’ll only mention a few because, oh my goodness, they are prolific!

This one needs no introduction, but most plant people would tell you that this often-maligned weed is indeed one of the most healing plants on the planet.

Taraxacum - Dandelion

If you’d like to learn about the healing properties of Dandelion, here’s a wonderful video.

When I first set eyes on this land, Mullein was everywhere. Last year, it all looked sick, so I didn’t harvest any at all. This year, I’m thrilled to announce she is thriving again.

Verbascum thapsus - Mullein

Mullein is most commonly known for her lung-healing properties. But, of course, there’s so much more to her than that. I’ll let the Herbal Jedi wax poetic about Mullein to you.

A plant that I’ve noticed is abundant this spring is one that you may never have heard of. Her name is Prunella vulgaris (which means heals all) or Self Heal. The little purplish-blue flowers haven’t appeared yet, but the leaves look super healthy.

Prunella vulgaris - Self Heal

This sweet little weed packs a punch of healing. They say that whatever shows up in abundance around you is a sign it could help with some healing. So, I will be spending extra time this year with Self Heal.

Mugwort, of course, continues to spread her magic near the barn and beyond!

Artemesia vulgaris - Mugwort

This morning on my weed walk, I saw my first Oxeye Daisies (Leucathemum vulgare). Who knew they’re edible and medicinal? I never did before moving here.

I’ll bet there are tons of you reading this who know way more about weeds than I do. I’m just a curious almost seventy-year-old who is passionate about plants and healing.

Leucathemum vulgare - Oxeye Daisy

And last, but most certainly not least, my beloved Yarrow is everywhere again this spring and just beginning to flower.

Achillea millefolium - Yarrow

You can read all about Yarrow here.

Oh, wait! I forgot to mention Plantain because I don’t have a photo of her. As common of a weed that she is, she’s very elusive here. I jump for joy when I spot her, usually growing near the driveway or on other disturbed soil.

When a scratch on my leg became infected recently, my first thought was of Plantain because she will help draw out whatever needs to come out. Fortunately, I had some in the freezer, thanks to a tip from my plant-loving friend,

Mj Pettengill - Angels' Lament

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I made a spit poultice (I love doing that!) with Plantain, Self Heal, and Yarrow and added a few drops of Echinacea and Usnea tinctures mixed with raw honey. I put it on my leg and wrapped it well. I’m happy to report that it’s healing, slowly but surely.

Here’s Yarrow, the Herbal Jedi, talking about Plantain, the People’s Plant:

I know I could pop a Benadryl for the itching or put on some over-the-counter remedy, but that’s just not my way anymore. I love investigating and learning which plants will help me to heal.

And let’s not forget the role plants play in feeding our animal friends. I noticed the other day that all the Milkweed that accidentally got mowed over last fall is up and looking healthy as can be, ready to house and feed the Monarch butterflies.

The reason I wanted to share about weeds is because they are so maligned. Think about how people pride themselves in eliminating every single Dandelion from their perfectly manicured lawn. Often when you do an internet search of some of these magnificent weeds, you will find articles about how to kill and eliminate them.

These plants are survivors. They’re drought resistant. Tenacious. And above all, incredibly healing to their human and animal friends.

They are food.

They are medicine.

Wandering around and getting to know the weeds growing has been meditative for me. The minute I get outside (bug protective gear on, unfortunately) and go into wander mode, I feel the stress melt away.

I try to eat a few leaves or flowers from the wild ones each day, grateful that there are no pesticides being sprayed where I live. I either nibble or gather enough to make tea or throw in my salad, or toss in a meal.

Of course, you always need to make sure you have properly identified any plant you put in your mouth.

I like to disconnect and turn my phone off when I’m out wandering, but I do turn it on briefly to take a photo and to use a wonderful plant ID app called PictureThis.

If you have made it this far in my ridiculously long post, I wanted to share some visitors I’ve had lately.

This guy thinks he lives here. Turkeys eat lots of ticks, so I’m grateful for his presence, but he comes three times a day now and eats all the food I put out for the birds. Well, he is a bird, too.

Yesterday morning he woke me up, loudly squawking from all sides of the house because there was no food out there. Does anyone want to suggest a name for him?

Last Saturday, around dusk, a friend called to tell me there was a Moose in front of my house.

And late afternoon on Monday, I heard a loud rustling on the edge of the woods and saw this guy or gal munching on my compost pile!

And then head over to check out my shed before lumbering back into the woods.

I really do live in Moose and Bear Country!

As always, thank you so much for reading or listening to The Quaking Poplar. I kind of rolled three posts into one this time.

Stay tuned for an Ayurvedic post about Pitta Dosha, as late spring and summer are Pitta Season.

Much Love,
Barbara