A Sourlands slope, dappled with ramps.

Ramps. Warmth and refuge on the south side of a diabase boulder prompts lush, early growth.

Tornado, I've seen one, or what I thought was a tornado, along the Route 80 corridor, across Ohio's expansive corn fields. A local, certainly could have told me, tornado, yes or no, and most likely given it a more subtle name. Northern Ohioans are, no doubt, familiar with weather. It seems that there are hardly trees or rocks to stop the plows or the wind from traveling unimpeded for miles. I wonder what grew on those flat plains.

A woodland sedge pierces an American beech leaf.

Last night's heavy rain found its way into our basement through a small hole near the steps. Water poured as though from a faucet. The sump pump and the long ago dug drainage ditch that surrounds the yard worked well. The trees, shrubs, and herbs did their work, too, holding leaves in place, slowing the rain's flow, and drinking well. Everyone has grown.