Susan Palmer's Exquisite Now

A writer takes a minute for a closer look

recent posts

  • Dinosaurs probably ate them

    They are huge, OK? When I slip by them at night to run the garbage out, they loom well over six feet tall. Spiny tough. Love a good swamp. That’s gunnera.

    Rumor has it they date back to the Cretaceous period 100 million years ago. And by rumor, I mean scientists have found their fossilized pollen dating back that far. I can just imagine hadrosaurs — the duck-billed dinosaurs — chowing down on these guys.

    They die back to nothing in the winter. In spring, they shove furled leaves up that are tender enough to attract slugs. That doesn’t last long. They get tough fast. Imagine rhubarb on steroids. Rumor also has it that the shoots are edible. But that’s not a rumor I’d trust.

    Gunnera aren’t some weird little fetish of mine, either. All the best botanical gardens have them: Butchart up near Victoria BC; Shore Acres right here on the Oregon Coast.

    I don’t know why I love them. Walking under their sweeping leaves in the summer dark, I sometimes feel the yard is older than old. And, of course, it is.

  • Yes, I’m floating

    This arrived in the email today. The galleys for my book. I know you kids call them ARCs, advance reader copies, but I love the old-school term. It’s piratical and an ocean of excitement, which I will enjoy for a day or two before getting down to the nitty gritty of one last copy edit.

    I expect sometime in the next few weeks that the cover will arrive for additional scrutiny. And I’ll be floating again.

    Sometime in November (Okay, specifically Nov. 20), this little ship will launch.

  • Hummers sip from nasturtiums

    Hummers sip from nasturtiums

    I should have done it sooner. Should have known why sooner. For all my devotion to nasturtiums–bright, messy, self-seeding, edible–I had no idea that the little spur coming off the back of the flower is full of nectar. I’ve had them here and there in the garden, but this year I potted them up on the back deck so I could see them every morning.

    Imagine my surprise at noticing on a recent morning an Anna’s hummingbird at the bright red blooms. The hummer compounded my joy by pausing briefly, maybe 20 seconds or so, less than 2 feet from my face, hovering then circling around me, hovering again then zinging off.

    I use the word magical too much, but what’s the word for when a tiny sparkling winged creature takes an interest in your face?

    Back to the flowers. I first fell in love with them when reading The House at Pooh Corner. Winnie-the-Pooh calls them “mastershalums” in that book and won’t be corrected by Piglet. “No… Not these,” Pooh tells Piglet. “These are called mastershalums.” And that’s what I call them when no one else is listening.

    Want more on these “feeds everyone” flowers? The University of California Master Gardeners will deliver.

    Photos by Susan Palmer