Dead Horse Bay surprised me. First, we'd forgotten to check tides, and were met by high blue water. If you are beach combing for old bottles that's not good, but our reason for being there had more to do with checking on the state of wild green things than old thrown away things. So the blue was beautiful, and no hindrance. The green that preceeded it, visible already from the bus that dropped us in the middle of nowhere, was good, too. You forget how nice green can be, when you live surrounded by sidewalks and streets.
Below, I have forgotten the name of this flower , a nemesia-, linaria-like little thing. Anyone?
The bay was choppy and foam was pushing ashore.
The innards of a long ago thing. Clock?
In the teeth of the wind we decided to head back inland to have our picnic.
I was looking for milkweed shoots. I did not want to pick many, as that would end the milkweed plant for this year, but did want to bring a sampling home to taste. Good thing I did. They are delicious.
Wild lettuce, Lactuca canadensis (probably), and a toothsome wild green. There is a very faint bitterness, a good crunch.
The Frenchie proudly identifies, with no help from me, pokeweed. Much earlier than last year.
My mom bought some candle holders from Crate and Barrel. I got the bag. I always use paper when foraging. Plastic makes plants sweat.
The bayberries had just begun to leaf out. Tender tips came home with us.
Pitch pine - not much of this around, and nice to see.
At last, off the path in a grassy field of bare sumac shrubs, we had our picnic. We could hear nothing but bird calls even though the busy road was not more than 200 feet away, hidden from view - the wind, from which we were sheltered, blew the noise away. Occasionally a jet from JFK passed low overhead. The sun shone.
I admired my spoils.
Later, home and tired but happy, we had a memorably good meal out of the tiny kitchen.