Blow your horn for the trumpet-shaped flowers of jewelweed!

These pretty petals do more than just beautify the wet woodlands. Along with the flower’s stem and leaves, this plant can irk the itch and stop the scratching. It is perhaps one of the most practical prescriptions from nature to relieve skin conditions of all types.

September is for the birds.

Now, Soo Whiting, don’t get your feathers ruffled, I won’t tread on your turf (see column to the right). These birds of September are in the sky but won’t fly away or be found in a Sibley Guide. My birds live in the autumn night sky, immortalized forever by the stars.

Although escargot was not served, somehow a snail found its way to a dinner party that I attended last weekend.

The marauding mollusk crashed the party with an invited guest who brought it to be identified. She had found it hitchhiking on a Comcast truck.  

Some like it hot.

The recent heat has gotten almost everyone down. Everyone, that is, except the cicadas. Hear them singing from the tree tops, and notice that, as the temperature increases, their song becomes louder and stronger, reaching a heat-enhanced crescendo of lust. 

Go deep. Not for a pass, but for a clam.

Razor clams — those skinny, sleek clams of the coast — are down deep below the surface. They are able to burrow up to a few feet deep. And although they generally live far underground unnoticed by many, they were not safe from a desperate clam digger last week. Having been unable to catch our fill of hard clams last week at Katama, Jean-Marc Dupon and I decided to live (and dine) on the edge.

There will be no puns, amusing bits or fun facts this week. Instead, a solemn warning and public service message to remind us all about the power and deadliness of Mother Nature.