By Katherine Hale - Forget peak oil. Right now, I’m more worried about peak acorn. There are five large white oaks outside my door and the acorns are falling with vigor. Every few minutes, they tumble to earth with a clatter—muffled if they hit the ground, with a thud or clang if they encounter patio… Continue reading Acorns Keep Falling On My Head
By Katherine Hale - “When I die, bury me in a plain pine box six feet under in the backyard,” I announced to my family at Sunday dinner. “Nothing too fancy, please.” My father paused, momentarily distracted from his spaghetti. “I think there are laws against that,” he said, with diplomatic aplomb. Surprisingly, no. It's… Continue reading Six Feet Under
By Katherine Hale - There are no graceful ways to mention extinct species in casual conversation. Years ago, on a visit to San Francisco, a local friend asked what I thought of Golden Gate Park. “You're a naturalist, right—isn't that just your thing?” I made the mistake of answering honestly. “It's very pretty,” I agreed,… Continue reading A Tale of Two Butterflies
By Katherine Hale - I fall in love the way some people drink coffee—quickly, all at once and at the slightest opportunity. This time, the object of my affection was a tiny tan moth, fluttering among a haze of purple tick-trefoil flowers in a power-line clearing in early evening. Every now and then it… Continue reading Learning to Love the Corn Earworm
By Katherine Hale - Grasses do not have a reputation for sexy among gardeners. In May, a chance encounter left me with dozens of leftover plants in need of a home, rejects from a sale at a local organization. It was immediately clear to me why they hadn't sold: they were scraggly bits of green… Continue reading A Prairie Home Companion
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