July 3

Queen Anne’s Lace is starting to go to flower, with its broad nest-like cluster of miniature white atop a singular stalk. Seeing this invariably reminds me of my mother describing to me its namesake. As a child, I believe Queen Anne’s Lace was the first wildflower to which I became familiar, no doubt on account of the story.

The common version is that the queen was embroidering lace when she accidentally pricked herself, drawing a single drop of blood. This is represented as the small cluster of deep red petals in the center of the field of white. Look closely over the next month, for the red develops as the white unfolds.

St. John’s Wort is also proliferating now. There’s a nice grouping in the undeveloped fields at the top of Highland Street, and I’ve also seen it growing along the roadside at the lower end of Grove, just before it meets Pond Street.

St. John’s has tight clusters of yellow flowers, sitting on stalks that have small leaflets coming out from each axial node, giving the green an almost feathery look. The petals are a brilliant yellow, nearly an inch across, with dozens of stamens protruding from the center point.

Its distinguishing feature almost requires a strong lens or loupe. I use a 30x loupe, which is easy to carry and hold just above the petals. On the outer petal edge is a remarkable line of small black dots, nearly invisible to the naked eye (and surely indistinguishable to the middle-aged eye), and they remind me of the small blue eyes of the scallop, which are visible in the margins between its shell halves.