#fall phlox

Above is my haul of local treasures from a Sunday morning bike ride on the Deckers Creek Trail in Preston County. This trail is a fanastic ride any time of the year, but especially in July when the masses of summer wildflowers spill over into the margins of the bike path.

From top: Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis); tall thimbleweed (Anemone virginiana); American bellflower (Campanula americana); starry campion (Silene stellata), also known as widow's frill; wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa); common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), which is the host plant of the red milkweed beetle (Tetraopes tetrophthalmus); downy skullcap (Scutellaria incana), also known as hoary skullcap; summer phlox (Phlox paniculata), also known as fall phlox; bushy St. John's wort (Hypericum densiflorum); swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata), also known as rose milkweed; pale Indian plantain (Arnoglossum atriplicifolium), a grand summer aster with a long history of medicinal and culinary use by Native Americans; and black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta).

Some places are haunted by their memories, good and bad, more than others, especially those unfortunate places that have been cleansed and purged of their memory anchors, the abandoned haunts and artifacts of long-lost communities and their industry. In the places where those anchors remain, memories settle on the land as a bitterweet residue of sadness and hope, a byproduct of tragedy, deprivation, exploitation, and renewal. They provide a running commentary on who we are and where we came from, what events brought us to our current states. I can't help but be drawn to these places and selfishly absorb their memories before the combination of progress and time inevitably removes them from our collective consciousness. The lower section of the Mon River Trail, from Opekiska to Pricketts Fort State Park, basks contentedly in its memories for now; take a few footsteps into the quiet woods along the path, and you will find them persisting in a state of slow decay. Yet even in the shadows of long-forgotten beehive coke ovens and their poisonous waste rises a beacon of hope - the extraordinary cranefly orchid (Tipularia discolor), a pioneer plant of successional forests that thrives in the detritus of our industrial past.

Yet more gifts of Appalachian summer.