Author Archives: Leslie Schultz

April 22, 2025 Happy Earth Day! & Context for Poem “Earth Day, 2025”

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Full Rainbow Outside of Northfield, Minnesota
Afternoon Rainbow on Our Kitchen Floor

I associate outdoor light and shine with Earth Day, and I have every since I was sitting on our porch swing on Earth Day in 2000, with a nine-month-old Julia on my lap. The light rainfall ceased and a double rainbow appeared across the street. “Julia, Julia!” I said, “The Earth loves us back!”

Today’s poem, “Earth Day, 2025,” echoes that emotion for me.

These photos of sedums in our front garden were taken yesterday. They are “glazed with rainwater” in a way that I think that William Carlos Williams would appreciate, and we are thrilled that these robust, low-lying plants are coming up again, vernicose and welcome.

The prompt word that I chose today from Rosendahl’s glossary, “vernicose,” was not known to me before. I was quite taken with its definition, “shiny, as though varnished,” especially when applied to growing plants. As I sought to learn more online, I was questioned repeatedly about the spelling–did I not mean “varicose”?–no, I did not! I conclude that vernicose is not a commonly used word. I did, however, learn that vernicose leaves, especially in houseplants, are a sign of radiant health.

Wishing you a day of brightness and brilliant health, and the same to our beloved planet, Earth! LESLIE

April 21, 2025 Context for Poem “Bayfield Revisited”

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Bayfield, Wisconsin, 2023

The poem that resulted today is a bit of a stretch from the prompt word found in Rosendahl’s glossary, “unarmed.” What, I wondered, does this adjective have to do with plants? I learned that “armed” plants are those with thorns. From there–with a hop, skip, and a leap–I thought of the anniversary trip that Tim and I took two years ago to the place we serendiptiously found on our honeymoon, then later returned to as first home-buyers, but had not seen for many years. This time, the little house we had briefly owned was not to be seen from the street due to overgrown vegetation, and this reminded me very strongly at the time of the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty, of the impentrable barrier of thorny brambles that repelled visitors.

From there, I thought of images from that summer–sails that remind me of thorns and, conversely, the statue of the unarmed woman, called “Flower in a Crannied Wall,” beloved by Frank Lloyd Wright and reproduced in several locations in his Spring Green, Wisconsin home, Taliesin.

Wishing you a fairy tale happy ending to a magical day, LESLIE

Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, Chaska, Minnesota

April 20, 2025 Happy Easter! & Context for Poem “Vines”

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Painted Easter Egg Tucked into Labyrinth Stones & Scilla (Photo: Leslie Schultz, 2007)

Today, the words “trailing” and “twining” seemed a natural pair to me, and “tendrils” fit right in with these sororal twins both in terms of sound and sense. The accompanying photos from our garden show three plants: a Grandpa Ott morning glory, a winter squash, and a California poppy. The morning glory climbs, just as reliably as the sun does each morning. The squash, Tim finds, does better with a short trellis or fence to climb, too, rather than trailing on the ground in a more traditional garden plot, because then the fruit does not rot. The California poppy is not a twiner or a trailer by definition, but…its tendrils are so thin and flexible that it sometimes appears to be both.

Once I had selected the words, the title suggested itself, as did the long, skinny shape.

Wishing you a splendid Easter Sunday! LESLIE

California Poppies (Photo: Leslie Schultz, 2024)




April 19, 2025 Context for Poem “On Color”

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(Photo by Gisela Fotografie; Pixabay)

I have heard it said that Minnesotans go mad for color in spring. It might be true. Tim and I have just purchased some terra cotta pots, glazed a deep cobalt blue, for the garden. I am envisioning them holding pansies and bright green sweet potato vines, but they cannot safely be planted yet because, well, it is Minnesota. Only the foolhardy plant tender annuals before May 15. (I know this from sad experience 🙁 .)

In any case, those pots alone, resting on the soft red bricks of the patio Tim made for me on our 10th anniversary, next to the now-greening grass and the sea of deep-blue scilla blooms, are a welcome pop of color all on their own.

Perhaps that is why one of the Rosendahl glossary terms for the letter “S” caught my eye this morning: “Sordid.” It is a word I know, of course, but in the metaphorical context of dirt: “sordid details” or “sordid deeds.” Here is Rosendahl’s gloss: “dirty in tint, chiefly applied when of a impure white.” That got me thinking about the subtle sophistication of such hues–not soiled but chic–and how I am missing that opportunity in our garden. Next time I plant tulip bulbs, I am going to seek out some with this lovely shades.

(Photo: margaret_1974 Pixabay)

Wishing you a spectacular day!

LESLIE

April 18, 2025 Context for Poem “Rhubarb”

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Rain Clouds Yesterday to the West

It has been a long time since I have attempted an acrostic, but this rainy grey morning seemed like the time for it. (Doesn’t the pale line of cloud above look like the graceful edge of a leaf?) My inspiration was the kind and neighborly sharing–along with Tim’s gardening skills–that have led to a new border of rhubarb on the north edge of front garden. Tnak you, Tim! Thank you, Rich and Raymonde!

Our healthiest plants are those shared from the gardens of our neighbors. Perhaps this is true for you, too? A vigorous transplant is a great joy, and every time we see these gift plants we see the love behind them.

And thank you all for joining me on this April botanical journey!

LESLIE