On the trail: Sumac seeds

[ Originally published on: Thursday, July 29, 2010 ]

Bluebirds sang from the dense periphery of Sunken Meadow Wednesday morning as I walked the dogs and explored, focusing on the staghorn sumac stands that tower over the lush, impenetrable multiflora-rose border.

A few active, feeding bluebirds were out in the field, vibrant blue glowing in the bright sunlight as they flew from one tiny fir to another, sometimes swooping low to the ground and landing briefly before fluttering up to low perches. The grasshoppers were out and I think the little birds were hunting them as well as airborne bugs, some flying in swarms that looked like little, black, horizontal clouds coming at you.

But, back to the sumac, which I have known since a foot-free boy wandering aimlessly through overgrown pastures and power lines along the western base of North Sugarloaf and elsewhere. The salient memory of sumac stands from my wayward youth in South Deerfield is partridge flushes, many of them, more than you'll find today; I took them for granted back then, knew even when quickly crossing a narrow power line that grouse would burst from the sumac, young and old, tall and short; sweet, fragrant blackberry patches and wild grape vines nearby.

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