One Of My Favorite Posts May 11, 2017 ~ shoreacres “Permission? I don’t need no stinking permission.” ~ Mother Nature Comments always are welcome. Share this:ShareEmailFacebookLike this:Like Loading...
40 thoughts on “One Of My Favorite Posts”
Here here! Ain’t it the truth!
I never thought I’d find a use for that famous line from Blazing Saddles, but it was the first thing that came to mind when I saw this. Everyone who’s tried to fight a vining plant knows how enthusiastic they can be. This may be the most amusing example I’ve seen.
Could you tell what the plant is? My first impression was poison ivy, but a closer look doesn’t seem to support that.
I confess that, in this instance, I didn’t even try to identify it. In my amusement, I think I saw it as the botanical equivalent of Everyman: Everyplant.
Good one. Reminded me of 2 things: 1) my kids 2) the sign at a horse farm I took that said “do not feed animals” and horses chewed the sign.
I laughed when you mentioned your kids. I’ve read enough about them to know they can be just as enthusiastic as a vining plant when it comes to expanding their reach into the natural world. The sign-chewing horses are great, too. It’s juxtapositions like these that add delight to the world.
Mother Nature found a perfect retort! Thank you for giving her message a larger audience..
Nature so often is described as peaceful, beautiful, nurturing, and sustaining. All of that’s true, but I just couldn’t help adding an example of another imagined attribute: sassiness.
That made me laugh! thanks! as did your comment about the hand — am still battling slow/no internet from Jama.
I’m glad you can make an appearance here and there, despite the slow/no troubles. I had to pause — I couldn’t remember “the hand.” Then, I did, and laughed again!
i’ll confess now, that i feel quite slighted — we were not taught all of the fun songs that you learned, and we were never given the opportunity to practice ‘how to milk a cow.’
So did I, Tina. The next time I’m down that way, I’m going to see how things have developed. The plant may have hidden the sign completely, or someone may have responded the way my dad used to when he saw a dandelion erupt in the lawn. If that’s the case, too bad for the plant.
Absolutely. To get permission to enter the preserve would involve numerous phone calls, talking to multiple people and, probably a written letter. The areas such as this belong to the people. We paid for it and continue to do so in the manner of salaries for folks that the government hired. I hope you continue to get many photos there.
Oh, heavens. I didn’t mean to suggest there are problems for people who wish to visit the refuge. There aren’t. All that’s necessary to visit the Brazoria Wildlife Refuge (or any part of the Mid-Coast complex, or any other refuge, like Anahuac) is to go there. Even on the prairies surrounding sections developed specifically for human visitors, there aren’t any problems. Some hiking trails only can be accessed when the headquarters are open, and some sections are open only during hunting seasons, but no one is opposed to visitors. Quite the opposite.
Even when I was photographing on the burned prairie, behind signs just like this one, the exchange of friendly waves was the extent of my interaction with the rangers. I think they figured out that a gray-haired woman in knee-high boots, carrying a camera, wasn’t much of a threat. The signs are there for precisely the same reason private property is posted: if action needs to be taken, warning has been given.
I’ve been stopped only twice over the years: once by a pair of workers who wondered what I’d found to photograph, and once by two rangers who wanted to warn me about alligators. The staff and volunteers are unfailingly helpful and welcoming — I’d hope it’s the same across the country.
In the meantime, the plants will continue on, creeping past the signs. :-)
Well it is the plants that will erase all man has built, given the undisturbed time to do their work.
Perhaps. Unless we do them in first, of course — or space aliens take care of us all.
No, it seems I got carried away. I figured you had no problems or you would not be going there. But for other folks, I think the sign might be interpreted as literal. :-) I know that at the dam in the town where I live, we birders had to get permission to go through a gate and had to get a key that was issued to us, We then turned the key back in to the office. It has been a long time ago and I can’t remember when we were required to return the key to the Corp of Engineers office. We did that for several years and eventually the Corp closed that area to us.
But please watch for alligators. Those things give me the heebie jeebies.
HA! Looks like a subversive attempt to put out a welcome mat by the rebellious local greenery.
Or this, perhaps?
There once was a sweet Texas vine
that wandered, and whorled, and twined.
When the sign said, “Don’t go,”
It decided to show
that a clamber far outshines a whine.
Love it. We’re gonna need a bigger sign.
Here’s a little tune for you, while I go look for my extra plywood.
Wait, was the sign meant to warn off undocumented Canada geese?
I never thought about that. I haven’t seen any big flocks for two or three years, so it may be working. On the other hand, they’re probably enjoying the rice fields down the road.
You should see my Virginia creeper. During spring one can actually watch it grow each hour. Right now it is turning a vivid purple in keen anticipation of a restful winter.
When I read “Virginia creeper,” I couldn’t imagine that it was “our” Virginia creeper, and apparently it isn’t. I added “Australia” to the mix, and found this interesting article that mentions the differences between our version and yours: as well as the pretty autumn colors, like your purple. Fast-growing vines are something to behold; it must be fun to watch.
It took me a moment to sort out another difference. In the comments, a woman asked if the plant would grow in full shade. The response was, “my parents used to have it growing on a southern exposed wall and it was very vigorous.” Here, of course, a southern exposure is the sunniest, and the shaded side is the north. I finally got my mind around our time difference, but I think reversing shady and sunny sides would disorient me for a while.
An obvious retaliation against herbicide — assassignation. (Sorry! Couldn’t resist . . .)
Alternately, “We are Vine. Resistance is futile.”
Beautiful! You never should resist those punny impulses. And even I know the source of “resistance is futile.” I’d say it’s quite appropriate for the Vines.
My brother lived in Meridian Mississippi for 20+ years and the kudzu nearly wore him out.
HaHa, so true! Kind of like those Deer Crossing signs they put on highways, right? Even a kid knows deer don’t read and will cross at will wherever they please!
Ditto ducks, geese, squirrels — everything has a crossing sign these days. My favorite one ever was one I found in Minnesota many years ago. It showed a person on a snowmobile and the word “crossing.” I suppose the marketers have gone into action by now, and every possible sort of crossing sign’s available. I wonder if they have a “Vine Crossing”?
Oh, yeah! :-)
I thought about coming back for a morning shot, to light up the sign, or at least a blue sky. But this was the second time I’d seen the vine working its way up the post, and the first time it was only about a foot tall. I decided I’d better not wait.
I’m finally back to enjoy your lovely posts. This one is wonderfully true!
Isn’t it, though? Unintentional humor is the best!
HAHAHAHA…Just loved this!xxx
I’m glad it tickled your funny bone. A little laughter’s good for the soul.
This is wonderful! You have such a good eye for catching the unique and quirky and this fits both!
One of my favorite Texas singer/songwriters — an entirely quirky dude named Ray Wylie Hubbard — once said, “The problem with irony is, not everybody gets it.” I worry about that sometimes, but not enough not to post my post. I’m glad you liked it!