(8/1) When the state stay-at-home order hit, our program was in its peak busy season. I was in the middle of a landscape design class, we were gearing up for our Buzz, Blooms and Beyond initiative for the season, our Propagation Series was about to begin, not to mention the day camp, Farmer’s Market, Plant Help Line and in-school programs that were ready to roll.

But, just like that, everything was cancelled. While planning and implementing our programs, I hadn’t known or realized that we were on the cusp of a pandemic that would affect everything we do – work, family, everything. I was angry. I understood what our nation had to do, I got it. I still get it. Safety for my family, my coworkers and friends were the most important thing, and eliminating outbreaks of the virus through cancellation of programs had to be done. But I was still angry. My life, as everyone’s life, had taken a different path, fast. And change was expected and imperative. The we way we work and interact with everyone changed and continues to change. But inside this cloud of fear and uncertainty is indeed a silver lining.

I struggled to find my way the first few weeks with my work. Interpreting what we can do, what we can’t do, how do we do it, and learning new technology. The emails came in at a rapid rate from the University, from the county, and from the state. Determining what programs were important and what could be managed at a later became everchanging.

My work schedule suddenly looked very different. Typically, March through the end of June is one of my busiest times of the year. Lots of evenings and weekends were filled with work related activities. This year has been quite different.

My days, not evenings, became filled with meetings, trainings, and presentations. As everyone was adjusting to staying at home, my job responsibilities adjusted to meeting the needs of those at home. Presentations through a computer has become the norm, instead of in the meeting room or in the garden.

But as the days filled up, the evenings opened up. What this meant for me was a realization of what I’ve been missing on our own property for years: the birth of spring.

Every evening my husband and I walked our property. I experienced things I haven’t before. I discovered the many plants that I had no idea were living among us. My husband introduced me to bird sounds I never listened to before. We saw insects that I didn’t realize were active so early. Spring became a time of discovery, instead of a rush to complete one task and another.

On one of our walks I saw a pileated woodpecker, my first ever, on the forest floor. A rose breasted grosbeak visited our feeder. Never saw that bird before. Rusty pointed out a ruby crowned kinglet in the tree tops. And warblers? Yes, I saw a common yellow throat warbler and a golden winged warbler for the first time. Not because they were new visitors to our property, but because I never took notice.

But plants are my thing. And I always thought of myself as someone aware of what is growing around me. But I’m not. This spring made me realize how unconnected I really am. On our walks, we discovered plants that I never knew grew on our property. We found false Solomon’s seal growing by a rock outcropping. Woodland geraniums were blooming lovely purple flowers near the false Solomon’s seal. Wild ginger is prolific in a far corner, where the soil is moist, with its dark green foliage and hidden flowers beneath the leaves. We found ragwort along the pond, enjoying the shade of the river birch. Not to mention the many of plants of jack-in-the-pulpit and mayapple that is found here and there. Blue-eyed grass was blooming, a tiny lavender flower on top of a grassy-like foliage. The cool thing about our discoveries is the connection we made, or at least I made, to our manmade environment. What we can create around us really does have a direct influence on our wildlife.

A few years ago I started a new garden bed. This bed is in the shade most of the day. The soil is moist most springs. The garden can manage to have some taller plants in it, so I planted "stuff". As a landscape designer in a past life, I chose plants that would provide texture and a little color throughout the growing season. And the plants grew and looked pretty good. This year, I decided to expand that bed. After experiencing the spring plants, I have introduced some of those in the expanded bed. Ragwort lines the front of the bed with a few crested iris. Three goatsbeard will grow to cover a 12’ x 4’ area to the rear of the bed. The middle consists of some blue stemmed goldenrod, cinnamon fern, and solomon’s seal. Although I believe these plants look good together, I know these plants will grow well together. I am looking at plants as communities, instead of just colors, textures, and bloom time. And I’ve seen these very plants growing together in their natural environment.

As the summer has progressed, so has the changes in the forest. The grasses are all high now, the meadow rue is tall and finished blooming, and a new plant to our forest (at least to me) is the Canada lily. We’ve been watching these plants grow all spring and debating what it was. It looked like a lily, but was it? One bloomed, others were food for the deer, but a cool find for sure.

Fringed orchids finally bloomed about mid-June. We were watching the plant that had tulip-like leaves all throughout the spring. We had guessed it was some type of wild orchid but never saw it before. Then it bloomed. What a find!

Narrowleafed mountain mint bloomed for a good bit this summer. Its tiny, delicate greenish-white flowers were what allowed us to identify ut. As the plants grew this summer, I thought for sure it was a threadleaf coreopsis, but the flowers were not yellow. A friend identified it and another new plant for our list.

Other plants of note were Salvia lyrata, growing almost as a ground cover, and blooming this spring with purple flower spikes. Penstemon digitalis, with its white flowers were blooming in early June. False sunflower, Helianthus, with its yellow, daisy-like flowers on top of five foot stalks are blooming and putting on a show. Bergamont is now in full bloom, with its lavender flowers, and fresh, minty fragrance.

If you are not familiar with some of the plants I mentioned, look them up and see if you can find these in your travels and walks in the forest. If you are familiar with them, see what else you can find. Learn new flora in your environment.

Yes, this year has been a year of change. Change in ways we never would have guessed. But with change comes awareness. And in my case, awareness of the natural world that I have overlooked for so long, even though I knew it was there. It has brought a calmness to the craziness. It’s brought meaning and a new set of priorities. As we continue to make changes in the way we live for our safety and others, take joy in the things that have always been there for us, and will continue to be there, as long as we take care of it.