
Above: Stinging nettle (Utica dioica)
What a lovely plant, you may say. Lovely green, vigorous, great texture. Whatever you do, do not touch this plant... or you will regret it. That emerald beauty is
stinging nettle (Urtica dioica). When you touch the plant, the hairs break off and deliver a nasty mixture of the following:
The stinging hairs of stinging nettle contain the compounds acetylcholine, histamine, and 5-hydroxytryptamine. Acetylcholine is found naturally in mammals and is involved in firing nerves, whereas histamine causes swelling (Mitchell and Rook 1979).
What would be the ultimate revenge? Eat the nettles, of course. On my island, people rave about their nettle soup and last spring, I tasted nettle ravioli at the
Saturna Café. I liked it very much.
So, about a week ago, I went out with a pail, clippers and gloves, and collected some nettle tops. Very carefully. I rinsed them and blanched them (blanching is cooking very briefly in boiling water, then stopping the cooking by dipping the herbs/vegetable in ice water). Then I chopped them and incorporated them in a risotto. We shared the risotto with a bottle of white wine and everyone liked it.
For all you brave ones out there, here is a nettle risotto recipe from
Mariquita Farm, in California.
Moving on to other dangers lurking in the forest... Below, this little beauty (it's barely 6 or 7 inches tall) is the
Calypso orchid (Calypso bulbosa). A good number of them have been blooming on the forest floor for the past three weeks. Nice little flashes of hot pink in the abundant greenery of mosses and ferns.

But if you look closely, very closely, at the orchid, you'll notice the beginnings of a death trap. See those fine lines? The beginning of a web... Somewhere on that orchid, a spider is busy creating a trap to capture the unsuspecting insects that will visit this little jewel...

Above: Death from within?
And then we arrive a the really sad story: a
birdlet in the middle of a road. I don't think this little one flew there, or even fell out of its nest (the trees were too far away). I think it was kidnapped, and accidentally dropped on the way to the dinner plate of whichever bird kidnapped it...

Above: Poor little guy, didn't make it.
Over the past few weeks, I've noticed a lot of shrieking from parent birds. Commotions in the forest. Some birds chase the kidnappers and
dive bomb and attack them furiously. The size of the attacker doesn't matter, the parents take them on.
Maybe this is what happened here: the kidnapper dropped its prey because of the parents' furious reaction. But the little one didn't make it.