Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

 

This photo was taken at my home by my good friend Kris Holmes after a special event.

This is the time of year when dust bunnies cavort wildly and multiply exponentially in the corners, under the couch, behind the kitchen stools, and anywhere else they can hide. 

Crumbs of damp dirt and tiny rocks follow us into the house and drop out of the treads in our shoes, little bits for me to find when I walk barefoot across the floor. I find them with my feet, but rarely find what I've stepped on.

After a few days I can barely bring myself to walk barefoot in the house, and the dust bunnies start creeping out of hiding. 

Poppies popping.

But who has time to clean? 

Vegetable beds must be cleared of henbit or cover crop before I can plant tomatoes and sweet potatoes, lay soaker hoses, and mulch. A basket of seeds waits for me to scatter them in the ground -- zinnias, sunflowers, marigolds, nasturtiums. Like the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland I'm muttering, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late," already too late for some things. Some of the seeds must wait until next year.

But then, too, roses are blooming, poppies are popping, and luscious red strawberries fill my basket daily. Those aren't late. In fact, they're early. 

And the rabbits -- the real ones with long ears and brown fur -- are multiplying. At least, I presume so.

The other day, as I crested the hill in our driveway after taking a walk, a rabbit hopped cautiously from under a large red cedar tree. It (she?) paused, keeping a wary eye on me. I stopped, looking straight at her. Unlike other times when I've surprised a rabbit on the path, this one did not run, but remained still, watching. 

"Do you have babies under that tree?" I asked. "I hope they're doing well." I continued to chat for a few moments. She remained motionless. She definitely has babies hidden beneath the low branches and tall grass. "Good day," I said and moved on. 

I've seen her a few times since, near the tree, hunched and munching grass. She doesn't cast a wary eye at me anymore, but neither does she run when I'm near. I'm certain this isn't the first, or the last bundle of baby bunnies she'll have this spring and summer.

Rabbit sightings used to be common here, but have gotten more and more rare. At one time we'd see a few rabbits in the clearing "playing" in early spring. Later we'd see more, then more. Often we'd go out in the morning and see half a dozen rabbits or more grazing near the house. I would find nests of bunnies in the garden, and relocate them. I once found nestlings under the low leaves of a large cabbage.

Rabbit sightings aren't so common now. Usually it's just an occasional sighting of just one. Perhaps we'll see a few more later this summer.  

I am always happy when I see a rabbit these days. They really aren't much of a nuisance in the garden, especially since I've learned which things will need protection. It's a little extra work to put up the chicken wire fencing to keep them out. However, some things only need protection until they're too big to be considered tasty by the rabbits. The rabbit (rabbits?) sometimes get a weird tasted for something, like the radicchio that came back from last fall. That is a pretty bitter plant... but then, I've seen them eating dandelions, including the stem. So bitterness doesn't deter a rabbit. Bitter is good for digestion.

So rabbits are smarter than humans in knowing they need to eat bitters. 

Welcome rabbit. Just don't raise your babies in the garden.

Bane or Boon?

 

Another name is "fairy horns." Take one of the purple flowers and blow into the pointed end for 
nature's miniature kazoo. It works; saw a video of a woman doing just that.

For years I've considered this plant the bane of my gardening existence.

Henbit, Lamium amplexcaule, pops up everywhere. While it's considered a winter annual, germinating in mid- to late winter and growing and growing and growing through the spring, I continue to find little seedlings all over, usually where it was cleared just days earlier. So frustrating. 

In April, whole fields cleared of crops are awash in purple with the mass blooming of henbit. While this may seem like a problem, it doesn't seem to affect crops that will be planted later. As the henbit dies, the purple fields turn golden. Both phases are beautiful.

It completely covers some of my growing beds that didn't get a heavy mulch last fall or where I didn't get a good stand of a fall/winter cover crop established. Some even pokes up through mulch laid last fall. 

It's frustrating and lots of work to clear it away... But also lots of work to take down any established cover crop as I prepare to plant the vegetables.

Henbit seems like a mixed bag -- a frustrating weed on one hand, a free cover crop protecting the soil on the other. I've decided to look on the positive side, a free cover crop that deserves a little bit of respect and appreciation.

Respect for its hardiness and ability to germinate in winter to grow through the remaining cold. Appreciation for its beauty and the fact that it's edible and nutritious.

I had eaten it a little in some past years, but decided its flavor wasn't exciting enough to continue eating. This year, though, I decided that since it is so abundant I would add the tops to my lettuce salads. It's the first thing I can forage in late winter and early spring, other than dandelion greens. So I snipped off the tops and tossed them into my daily salads by the handful. The flavor adds an earthiness to the salads and when it blooms, perks up the look of the salad. You can also cook it. I haven't tried that, but there is still plenty out there, so I just might toss some in with some lambs quarters, which is growing rapidly now.

Making a tea from the flowering tops was one suggestion I did try. Not bad. It won't be my first choice, but I'll make tea with it occasionally. I like eating things that grow here, whether I planted them or they pop up of their own accord. I think that the wild, foraged foods are particularly good to eat for the different nutrients and enzymes they provide. I also believe that their hardiness in might rub off on me.

Apparently, henbit is rich in vitamins and minerals (particularly vitamins A, K, and C) and has for generations been used as a medicinal plant to treat fevers, body aches and joint pain, as well as to induce fever. 

Who knew?

My ancestors, probably.

Henbit originated in Europe, Asia and Northern Africa and was brought here as fodder for chickens -- hence the name hen-bit.

One of its nutritional/medicinal properties, some claim, is that it boosts energy. Who couldn't use some of that.

Bring on the henbit!