2020: Year in Review

This past year was certainly not the year that any of us hoped it would be. We all know why, so there’s no reason to get into it here. Point being, posts on Awkward Botany were a bit fewer and further between in 2020. My day job kept me busier than usual, and my motivation to do much else was pretty much zapped. Regardless, I’m still pleased with what I was able to put out into the world. I’m particularly excited about my new Weeds of Boise project, in which I attempt to catalog the wild urban flora of my hometown. Expect more of that in 2021.

Certainly the biggest news of 2020 is that Sierra (a.k.a. Idaho Plant Doctor) and I bought a house! We started looking in earnest late last summer and weren’t having much luck. Just as we were considering putting our dreams on hold for a bit, we came across a little house in a neighborhood we love. The house was perfect for us, with a big pollinator garden out front and a series of garden boxes in various locations around the property, along with a nice chicken coop (five chickens included!). It was a tiny urban farm looking for new owners, and we were the chosen ones! I like to think that we bought a garden, and it came with a house. This year will be a year of discovery as we watch the yard come to life and fulfill our dream of having a garden of our own. We will definitely keep you posted.

But that’s not all. On the 1st of January, Sierra and I got married in a tiny ceremony in our new backyard. We had planned on getting married in the fall of 2020, but the pandemic quickly put those plans to rest. Now, with a place of our own and a desire to put a tough year behind us, we started the new year off on a positive note. With a number of precautions in place, we were able to celebrate the start of our new lives together with some of our close friends and family. Despite it being the middle of winter, the weather was perfect for our little outdoor gathering. The love and generosity we were shown from so many people that weekend is something we will never forget. 

two nerds getting married

What follows are the usual items found in a Year in Review post – ways you can follow Awkward Botany on social media, links to donate monetarily to Awkward Botany (no pressure), and posts from 2020 that are part of new and ongoing series of posts. New in 2021 is the Awkward Botany Bookshop. Bookshop is a site that makes it possible to purchase books online and support local bookstores in the process. When you buy books through Awkward Botany’s page, we receive a small percentage of the sale, which helps us continue to put out more of the plant nerdy content you’ve come to expect. There is a small selection of books in the store now, and I’ll continue to add more, so check back often. If there are books you’d like me to add to the store, please let me know. 

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A Selection of Awkward Botany Posts from 2020

Botany in Popular Culture

Zine and Book Reviews

Weeds of Boise

Tea Time

Podcast Reviews

Awkward Botanical Sketches

Winter Trees and Shrubs

Tea Time: Lemon Balm Tea

Cooler weather has me thinking about hot tea again. This time around I decided to go with something I’ve already tried and know that I like. Despite the fact that lemon balm can be quite abundant and readily available, I don’t really drink it that often. Yet, considering claims made regarding its calming nature, this is definitely the year to have it.

lemon balm (Melissa officinalis)

Melissa officinalis is an herbaceous perennial native to the Mediterranean Basin and beyond. It has been widely planted outside of its native range and has become naturalized – some might say weedy – in many parts of the world. It self-sows easily and also spreads readily via stolons and/or rhizomes. It isn’t picky about soil type and grows well in both sun and part shade. Lemon balm is in the mint family and acts in a similarly aggresive way to some of its relatives, but luckily isn’t nearly as tenacious as mint in its tendency to dominate a garden bed.

The leaves of lemon balm have a wrinkled appearance, are triangular or wedge-shaped with toothed margins, and are arranged oppositely on square stems up to three feet tall. Small, white or pale yellow (sometimes pale pink) flowers are inconspicuous and produced in the axils of leaves. They are often sparse enough to be hardly noticeable. This plant’s aesthetic appeal is all about its pleasant and prolific green foliage. Yet, despite the simplicity of its flowers, lemon balm is known for being attractive to bees and is often propagated specifically to feed honeybees. In fact, the genus name Melissa apparently means honeybee in Ancient Greek.

lemon balm flower

The leaves of lemon balm can be consumed fresh or dried and have a number of other uses besides tea. They have a sweet, lemon-like scent and, like so many other herbs with a long history of human use, have a wide array of medicinal claims associated with them. Many sources agree on lemon balm’s ability to calm the nerves, reduce stress and anxiety, and fight off insomnia. According to The Herb Society of America’s Essential Guide to Growing and Cooking with Herbs, lemon balm “has been used as a relaxing agent and as an aid to restful, nightmare-free sleep.” Sounds like I could use more lemon balm in my life.

dried lemon balm leaves

Lemon balm tea can be made with either fresh or dried leaves, but fresh leaves seem to make a more flavorful tea. I had only tried tea made from dried leaves until recently and have decided that I prefer fresh leaves. Simply harvest a few leaves, cut or tear them apart to release the lemony flavor, place them in a cup, and cover them in hot water. Some recipes (like this one) suggest adding honey, while others mix lemon balm with additional herbs known for their lemon-like flavor or relaxing nature (lemon thyme and lemon verbena, for example). Sierra was immediately taken by lemon balm tea when she tried it – in contrast to her experience with violet leaf tea – and even said it was right up there with her preferred black teas. I’m not surprised, as it is one of my favorite teas as well.

lemon balm tea made with freshly harvested leaves

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A Few More Snags Near Ketchum

Nearly a year has passed since Sierra and I took a trip to Ketchum, Idaho and I reported on some of the snags we encountered there. After months without a break, we finally had the chance to get away for a few days, and since we were desperate for some time off and a change of scenery, we couldn’t turn it down. Plus, we were heading back to Ketchum, so I knew I’d get to check out a few more snags. I was stoked.

I’m obsessed with trees, and my preference is for live ones (generally speaking), but dead trees are certainly gaining in popularity. After all, a dead tree isn’t truly dead. As its corpse slowly rots, it continues to harbor and support life inside and out in a substantial way. Forests need dead trees just as much as they need live trees. Plus, ecology aside, dead trees are no less photogenic than any other tree.

Death isn’t all bad. New life springs from decay. Given our current state of affairs, we need this reminder, and snags offer it in spades. As Sierra and I pulled up to the Apollo Creek trailhead, we looked out onto a section of forest that had clearly been ravaged by fire in the not too distant past. Acres of standing and fallen burned out trees bore witness to this fact. Yet among the dead, life flourished, as dozens of songbirds actively foraged on and around the charred trees. They were there for the insects that were feeding on the dead wood, fueling themselves for fall migration. In the spring, when the birds return, some of them may even nest in the cavities of the dead trees. They will feed again on the insects and raise up a new generation of songbirds that will do the same. In and among snags there are myriad examples just like this, showing us the countless ways in which death supports new life.

What follows is a small sampling of the snags we encountered this time around on our trip to Ketchum.

post-fire snag among many other snags

a series of cavities in a post-fire snag

snag surrounded by live trees

three new snags

fallen snag

broken snag

new tree emerging from a nurse stump

not a snag, but one of many lupines we saw flowering along Apollo Creek Trail

Field Trip: Hyatt Hidden Lakes Reserve

May is American Wetlands Month, which I have written about a few times here. The way we like to celebrate is to find a wetland nearby and spend a couple hours exploring and learning about the area. Luckily there is a wetland a few miles from our house. Hyatt Hidden Lakes Reserve is a 54 acre, city-owned wetland and nature reserve that is open to the public. It features a series of trails designed for nature viewing and recreation. Along the way there is a series of interpretative signs with lots of information about wetlands and the flora and fauna that call them home.

One cloudy Sunday morning, Sierra and I ventured out to our neighborhood wetland. What follows is a photo diary of a few of the things we saw while we were there.

The southwest corner of Hyatt Hidden Lakes Reserve

One of the coolest features of the reserve is this bat house called HaBATat.

Seed head of teasel (Dipsacus fullonum); behind it are a series of bird nests designed for various species of cavity nesters.

Common yarrow (Achillea millefolium) with a view of one of the ponds behind it.

We visited shortly after the cottonwoods (Populus spp.) had dropped their fluffy seeds.

Interpretive signage like this teach visitors about the various features and benefits of wetlands.

Walkways like this one allow for a closer view of the wetlands and feature additional interpretive signage.

Sierra spots something in the shrubbery.

Perhaps it was this yellow-headed blackbird.

Or maybe this male mallard.

One strange-looking, yellow-leaved branch among the willows (Salix sp.); Sierra and I wondered why.

Some wrinkly mushrooms that Sierra discovered.

We kept seeing this interesting insect on the flower heads of the grasses.

The butt of a bumblebee on the flowers of yellow sweet clover (Melilotus officinalis), captured by Sierra.

What wetlands did you visit this May? Let us know in the comment section below.

See Also: Field Trip: Bruneau Dunes State Park