My Blog has Moved!

 My blog now resides within the revised Pleasant Valley Conservancy website:  pleasantvalleyconservancy.org.  The posts are under the heading “News and Blogs,” and you will see that I am nestled in there along with Tom’s old blogs.  Please visit that site from now on and do sign up to receive notification when I publish a new post.  My latest is “Leaf Stories,” which I uploaded on January 9, 2024.

Some trees keep their leaves into the winter.  Do you wonder about that?

Photos taken January 10, 2024

Cattail Control

“We stand at the edge 

of the marsh at day’s end, watch 

it swallow itself.”

(Found haiku inside the poem, Marsh, by Hans Ostrom)

“Even when you think the ground is solid, it probably isn’t.”  Amanda Budyak

Control of cattails in wetlands is important and hard work.  I do not have the stamina to participate, so I’ve relied on Tom’s blog, Amanda Budyak, Kathie Brock and Craig Annen to help develop this snapshot.  For some years now, we have been removing invasive cattails from our marsh.  Hybrid cattails (Typha X glauca) were showing up in increasingly spreading, dark-green clonal islands, all but eliminating a diversity of high quality species such as blue-flag iris, purple-fringed orchid (below, S. Slapnick photo), turtlehead, many native sedges, swamp thistle and more.

Cattails along University Bay In Madison (S. Slapnick)

Tom, in his August, 2016 blog, stated:  “Hybrid cattail is a highly invasive species that has become a major threat to wetlands in North America.”  He went on to point out that cattail clones can spread linearly as much as 18 feet a year and can take over whole wetlands.  The genus Typha has about 30 species.  They are monocots with flowering spikes.  The female flowers sit sausage-like below the more slender, short-lived staminate tip.  Seeds are tiny and wind dispersed.  If you’ve ever had a cattail bouquet in your house, you know the crumbly mess they make when they are ripe.  They spread by rhizome growth as well as by seed, and new areas can become populated by movement of rhizome pieces via birds and mammals, by floods, and by motor vehicles of all sorts.  The native, Typha latifolia, frequently forms hybrids with the narrow-leaved, non-native T. Angustifolia.  DNA studies of Typha hybridization are wanting.   Increasingly, wetlands, especially smaller marshes and fens, are rapidly degraded by unchecked cattail growth.  Over time, their litter smothers the native species the way mulching your garden smothers weeds.  Craig Annen calls them “litter-driven invasions.”  They also alter the hydrology and nutrient levels of the wetlands.  Our goal is wetland diversity - a supercharged carbon sink.

Cattail Control Methods

In 2016 Kathie and Tom hired Craig Annen’s company, Integrated Restorations, to begin controlling the hybrid cattails.  Our Amanda is part of that crew.  At left are Erin Green, Chris Knief, Amanda and Jared Bland.  Other members of the team were working elsewhere that day.  They are happy, clean, energetic, sweet-smelling-obviously at the beginning of their day. (Photo Amanda Budyak)

Their cattail chemical control methods look relatively easy on paper but are very difficult to carry out in real life by real humans in the heat and humidity of summer dog-day mornings and afternoons (mid June through August).  “And wetlands don’t provide much shade.” (Amanda)

Brush cutters and backpack sprayers are hauled to the cattail site over uneven and invisible ground, skirting hidden sink holes, through muck and ooze, and sometimes, suddenly, into deep pools.  The circular blades slice through the stems, making clean cuts, while at the same time, the litter is expertly directed away from the current active field of work (see Chris Knief above cutting a wall of cattails, photo Amanda Budyak).  Sometimes deadly hornet nests are narrowly missed by the cutting blade, sometimes bees and wasps are aroused.  Chest waders leak, workers fall in.  Sweat pools inside boots so that there is no dry anywhere, just marshy sog.  Always, laughing and colorful words and friendly rescues.  Always stories.

    “There was a huge snapping turtle in the water with us this summer.  I thought it was a beaver at first…We had a few snakes slither through the wetland while we were working…Our feet are completely under the water, making us all very nervous…Never know what’s out there…Always makes for interesting days….A nice change of pace”.  (Amanda)

The cut stems of the cattails are then carefully treated with the aquatic-certified herbicide Imazapyr (3.85%, Polaris) delivered via low output pressure backpack sprayers.  The herbicide mixture has been carefully formulated by Craig Annen to meet requirements for sticking and increased uptake.  I recommend he be consulted (and hired, IMHO) if you want the job done safely and effectively, with minimal collateral damage.

At right, Chris Knief treating cattail cut stems with backpack sprayer. (Photo Amanda Budyak)  Several sprayers usually follow behind one brush cutter.

After cutting and treating, it is important to remove the litter or burn it in the winter or early spring to help the native seed bank flourish.  One treatment like this has been shown to be about 90% effective in the long run (2 years), but a repeat visit (99%) and perhaps an evaluation visit in a couple years may be necessary, depending on the native plant response and the re-invasion threat from upstream.  

Amanda said, “this method, besides being good for solid stands, also works great in high quality areas where there is good stuff all around.”

Left, Turtlehead and Marsh Joepye (Photo Amanda Budyak)

Left, Swamp Thistle (S. Slapnick)

Interestingly, there is another, much simpler, way to control cattails if your site has the right conditions.  Some call it “cut and flood.”  At Goose Pond for example, predictable flooding/drought cycles allow cutting cattails when water levels are low, followed by drowning of the plant rhizomes when high water returns.  If you can control or predict your hydrology, this is a good method.  Some cut cattails in the winter, as low as possible, counting on Spring thaws and floods to do the deed.

Turtlehead (S. Slapnick)

Ruby-throated Hummingbird Stories

Arrival

I first spotted the hummingbird at our cabin on May 9.  It was flying in circles at the corner of the overhang, where, over many years, Kathie has hung the sugar feeder.  The feeder had not yet been hung, but the hungry migrant was reminding us where to put it.  The little jewels have been gracing the days, one by one, throughout the season of weeds and seeds at Pleasant Valley Conservancy.

Tiny Acrobatic Athletes

The ruby-throated hummingbird is more than familiar to everyone in Wisconsin.  It is our one Midwest hummingbird species.  The birds winter in South Florida, Texas, Mexico and Central America.  They fly across the Gulf of Mexico in one non-stop trip, losing half their body weight in the process.   That means they go down to the weight of a penny.  (There are 150 ruby-throated hummingbirds per pound.)   We see them fly backward and upside down, as well as forward at up to 30 miles per hour.  When feeding, they literally fly while barely moving so they can dip their long tongues into a flower and sip nectar.

Feeder with male and female Ruby-throats

Amazing Wrap-around

Hummingbird tongues are long (about 1.5 inches on average).  Flattened tubes within the tongue spring open when they touch nectar and thereby pump the sweet liquid in.  Picture about 20 licks per second (hummingbirds are well-known for their statistics). 

When not in use, the hummingbird tongue wraps under the jaw and then behind and over the head, completely around the skull, and over and under the eye!  See the illustration above right.

Manners 

After Kathie put up the feeder, I noticed the little hummers like to fight with each other for possession of the little entries to the sugar water.  In nature, flowers are usually spaced more widely, so I expect they don’t fight as much, but considering the vast amounts of fuel they burn with a heart rate up to 1,200 beats per minute, and wing beats uncountable, their fuel sources must be precious enough to battle over at times.  Their needs overcome their manners.  

Would distributing single-hole feeders, like those at left, throughout your yard help restore hummingbird civility?

Tubular Attractions

On August 31, while I was admiring the great blue lobelia and stiff goldenrod blossoms, a ruby-throat zipped by my ear and began sipping from a nearby old-field thistle flower (at right).  Then it hovered over several blossoms of Gaura.  I had never seen hummingbirds feed from thistles or Gaura before, so I decided to take a loser look at the flowers.  You’ll note that each flower has tubular elements ideal for long bills and tongues.  So, what kinds of flowers in the prairies and savannas and marshes are hummingbirds using?

Flowers Hummingbirds Visit:

Milkweeds, foxglove, cardinal flower, great blue lobelia, monarda, penstemon, verbena, columbine, phlox, coreopsis, blazing star, royal catchfly.

This list is not exhaustive.  And I’m not getting into relative sugar concentrations…

Gaura biennis, at left.

Giant Red Flower

On September 13, I drove the mule up the hill to collect purple hyssop and tall bellflower seed in our knoll savanna.  As soon as I got out of the 4-wheeler, a hummer zoomed to within three feet, hovered for a few seconds at eye level, then, deciding the red mule wasn’t the biggest nectar find of its lifetime, flew off for more modest, but sweeter, sources.  At right, Tom is demonstrating the mule in question, while Kathie is attempting to attract hummingbirds on her own.

The Colors of Feathers

Feathers do, of course, contain pigments derived in large part from a bird’s diet.  Think of flamingos and pink brine shrimp.  However, the iridescent feather colors of hummingbird throats and the ‘blue’ feathers of jays are not red or green or blue because they contain colored pigments.  They are colored because the ultra thin nanostructures in their feather barbules dissect and shape white light and then reflect their chosen palette back at the world and their mates.  In many birds, these nano tricks combine with diet pigments to paint the feathers in full.

Painting Feathers (a poem)

“With a generous palette

of waves of white light

feather barbs shuttle multiple hues,

more and more pure,

through laminates of bubbles and cells

that bend and blend, sort and shorten,

scatter with purpose

brilliant blues from nanolayered rooms.

     As sky becomes blue

     so jay becomes jay.

Hummingbird begins, spatters

carotene pigments from essence

of spidery yellows and nectary reds.

In feather chambers, light waves collide,

interfere, reinforce.  Primal hues emerge

from barbule matrices of mirrors.

Colors switch sharply, flash iridescence,

now bright green, now orange or crimson.

     In a bipolar wink,

     sun becomes bird.”

Susan Slapnick, March 2013

Pale Indian Plantain

 “Nevertheless, she persisted.”  Mitch McConnell of Elizabeth Warren, 2017

Pale Indian Plantain (Arnoglossum atriplicifolium, formerly Cacalia atriplicifolium*) has been variously described as “conspicuous but rare” by Iltis and Cochran, “a problem” by Tom Brock, “aggressive” and “perhaps not suitable for small plantings” by Prairie Moon Nursery.  Plants for a Future calls it “somewhat invasive.”  We call it PIP.  (Flowering head at left)

In his July 21, 2021 blog, Tom described a massive “wall” of PIP plants in the savanna that had “eliminated a prize purple milkweed site”.  Three truckloads of plants were removed from the area!  He advocated cutting the stems near the ground and treating with Garlon 4.  (See photo below). I quote him:  “It is a little disconcerting to have to spend all this effort to control a native species that is really desirable and is found in many savanna species lists.”  To this day, though our methods are different from Tom’s, we are still trying to control the spread of PIP at Pleasant Valley.  

Pale Indian Plantain doesn’t just grow in savannas.  This perennial does well in mesic forests, prairies, sand dunes, marshes, and on stream banks.  It grows to ten feet high on narrow stalks, and, to my eye, always seems to dominate a landscape, no matter how many individual plants there are.  The flowers (July-September) attract wasp, bee and fly pollinators.  The nectar is dilute and reachable by “short-tongued” insects.  The plants spread not just by seed but also by means of underground runners or rhizomes (Prairie Nursery says that there is a fibrous root component).

Here is a dried and pressed specimen of PIP from the University of Wisconsin Herbarium.  Note remnants of rhizomes at upper left. 

History of our PIP control methods:

Tom’s method involved cutting and removing the PIP plant material and treating the cut stems with Garlon 4.  This was done before full flower and on flowering plants.  The work began in 2011.  Below is his example showing treated stems.

Our current PIP control protocol begins a few weeks after a spring burn, when the plant leaves are emerging (ideally three to six inches long, but this varies).  We apply Escort (1 gram per gallon) using a three-gallon backpack sprayer (methsulfuron methyl 60% - MSM60 - crystals with about 50 ml surfactant and sometimes a pinch of Induce if the ground is moist).  Sometimes a given area is re-visited after a couple weeks to get later emerging plants.  Care is taken not to spray in wind and to limit the spray cone to the leaves.  We compared the relative effectiveness of Garlon 3a, Garlon 4, Roundup and Escort on newly emerged PIP leaves and found, after several years of experiments, that Escort does the best job of eliminating PIP with a minimum of collateral damage.

Lastly, in late summer and early fall, we cut off any fully-flowering or seeding PIP heads and bag them for disposal.  Our PIP population is very much reduced now (2023), though we still find unexplained “outbreaks” of several to a dozen (or more?) plants.

If you decide to control PIP, know that the effort will be costly and use management time for many successive years.  PIP resists being controlled.  We persist.  I wonder if the rhizomes may be stimulated by chemical control methods or disturbance in general.  At a minimum, if you want to do something, remove the fully flowering heads, or better, the seed heads before they start shedding seed.  Premature cutting may also stimulate a rhizomes response, so don’t be too eager to decapitate.  We also discourage annual burning of a problem PIP area.  Further studies are needed for sure, and might qualify as part of a PhD thesis?  Is PIP a pioneer species that will naturally diminish as your prairie matures?  Do you really have too many?  Can you count them?  Are they eliminating rare native species?  Do they resist yearly interseeding methods?  When you kill off a PIP area, what replaces those plants?  Nearby native species?  Canada goldenrod, ragweed, woodland sunflower?  Another aggressive native, or worse?  

At right is an area of Pale Indian Plantain in a prairie at Fair Meadows, the new (third) 2023 Madison Audubon sanctuary, donated and managed by Penny and Gary Shackelford.  It will be interesting to check in with them in ten years.

Bottom Line:  We have been successful controlling Pale Indian Plantain in our prairies and savannas.  As of this writing, our efforts continue.  We spray emergent plants in burned areas in the spring with Escort, and we collect seed heads in the Fall.

“I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.”  Invictus, by William E. Henley 

(A single PIP in the Valley Prairie at Pleasant Valley, 2023)

*Footnote:  the genus name Cacalia was used previously for a group of plants now belonging to eight different genera.  In 1998, the Committee for Spermatophyta decided to reject this name, declaring it “nomen rejiciendum” (rejected name) under the International Code of Nomenclature.  All former Cacalia now have other genus names.  For example, Cacalia tuberosa is now Arnoglossum plantagineum.  And Sweet Indian Plantain is now Arnoglossum suaveolens (sweet-smelling or fragrant).

Canada Goldenrod & Wood Betony

 “What is the greatest gift? …something else - something else entirely holds me in thrall.  That you have a life that I wonder about…” Mary Oliver

I want to update our methods of keeping Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) in check.  At right is a beautiful specimen surrounded by a diversity of other prairie plants (photo by Sandy Stark).

Some managers use a mowing or cutting schedule, either twice yearly or once a year when the plants are flowering.  Tom in his blog said mowing does not eradicate the goldenrod clones, but trichlopyr (20% garlon 4) does (August 31, 2011).  He described a “spritz” technique for killing the plants using a spray bottle of garlon 4 to very sparingly spritz just a few upper leaves.  Alternatively, Canada goldenrod can be cut, leaving a 12 inch stem that is then dabbed or sprayed with garlon 4.  We’ve found this latter method to be less messy in that walking through and around treated plants leaves fewer drips on our clothing.

The past five years or so we have been experimenting with two methods of Canada goldenrod control.  The first is to simply cut the stems in a flowering clone with a hedge shears once a year, not treating with herbicide, and repeating the cutting in subsequent years.  This is followed by burning yearly or every other year and then seeding with a mix collected from adjacent areas.  Seeds include but are not limited to woodland goldenrods, asters, black- and brown-eyed Susan’s, golden Alexander, ox-eye sunflower, monarda, showy goldenrod, hyssop, tall bellflower, milkweeds, savanna grasses, native thistles, bonesets, stiff gentian, and more, all generally fast-growing prairie or savanna species.  Wet-mesic species go into areas where the goldenrod is growing near the marsh.  These include lousewort (see below), Culver’s root, cup plant, mountain mint, dark-green bullrush, wool grass, meadow rue, gentians, great blue lobelia.  The rationale here is that herbicide, however carefully applied, always damages adjacent plants, eliminating competition.  In subsequent years, therefore, the goldenrod may rebound (see Chris Helzer - Prairieecologist.com/2011/08/19 - for support).  “Over seeding is a must,” and, to paraphrase, the vegetative spread of goldenrods increases with disturbance (Driftlessprairie.org). The Driftless Prairie managers also stress that goldenrod control be “multi-pronged” and will take years.  But they crucially remind us that this species sustains scores of important insects, so total elimination should not be a goal.  For us, this method has so far resulted in shorter, fewer and less robust goldenrod plants over the patient years.

Our second method of Canada goldenrod control is exactly the same as the first, with the addition of seeding the goldenrod clone areas with wood betony (Pedicularis canadensis) either shortly after collecting the seed, later in the season, or after spring burns.  At left is a wood betony specimen in flower (photo by Amanda Budyak).

Why are we trying this?  Several sources, including Luke Dahlberg, Citizens for Conservation, have written that wood betony helps control the prevalence of warm season grasses, such as big bluestem and Indian grass, as well as goldenrods and sunflowers.  The people at Prairie Haven say that “it seems to mostly affect Canada goldenrod” (5/25/2017), and use it along with mowing.  Tom also has weighed in:  “The role of wood betony in increasing diversity in prairies has been well established.”  It increases species richness (J. Torrey, Botanical Soc., Herbert et.al., 2005).  Richard Henderson has compared the function of wood betony to bison grazing (Proc. 18th N.A. Prairie Conference, 2003).  Wood betony has been shown to reduce the biomass of partridge pea and increase forb diversity and floristic quality where seeded (J.P. DiGiovanni et.al., Restoration Ecology, 2016).  We are now seeing wood betony flowering in amongst Canada goldenrod clones, and species diversity is slowly increasing with this method.

What is the secret?  Wood betony is hemiparasitic.  That means that is uses a host plant for nutrients, and also makes its own food through photosynthesis.  Not surprisingly, the plants it robs from are set back dramatically, allowing competitors to do better.  It has been shown to parasitize the roots of 80 species from 35 families (Piehl, 1968).  At right are areas of yellow-flowered wood betony in Toby’s Prairie in early spring.  Indian grass has been nicely tamed throughout this prairie through the years.  I’m sure that’s the result of many factors.

Hemiparasites do not take over an area, but tend to fade as their hosts weaken.  Or perhaps a balance of sorts eventually establishes itself.  You may be familiar with other hemiparasites such as bastard toadflax (Comandra umbellata) and lousewort or swamp betony (Pedicularis lanceolata).  We’ve been interseeding wetland areas dominated by Carex trichocarpa with lousewort for years.  Tom talked about this in his blog.  It’s also good for taming Canada goldenrod.  Somewhat like using a diversity paint brush in the marsh.  Toadflax has 40 different host species; we haven’t explored its potential as yet.  So much happens underground.

I’m wondering if we can use hemiparasites in our recipes for controlling woodland sunflower or pale Indian plantain, or?  I won’t mention using dodder, but…

“…your friend is your needs answered…” Kahlil Gibran, On Friendship

Blowing in the Wind

There is one pollinator and seed-dispersal agent as old as the Earth itself.  It’s everywhere:  the wind.  My symbol for the wind at left can be added to the hundreds easily found on the internet.  You might draw your own. 

Uplifting, breath taking, breath giving.  Breath:  our first act in life, and our last.  Inspiring and expiring.  We take it for granted.

 

Wind pollinated plants are called anemophilous.  Anemo, meaning wind and philous, meaning loving.  I like to think of it as the wind helping the plants in their love making, as opposed to plants just loving the wind.  Wind pollinated plants include almost all the gymnosperms (pine, spruce, fir) and also many of the grasses, sedges and rushes.  Others include oaks, pecans, pistachios, alders, hickory and walnuts.  Many of our food crops are also dependent on the wind for the spread of pollen:  rice, corn, wheat, oats, etc…..as many as 12% of plants in the world.  

Anemophilous flowers typically lack scent and are not showy or rich in nectar.  They usually produce lots and lots of pollen, most of which is smooth, light and non-sticky.  Some are flattened.  Some are winged for flight (pine, pictured above).  The stamens (pollen producers) are well-exposed to the wind, as are the large feathery pollen-catching stigma.

Insects sometimes do visit wind-pollinated flowers, such as oaks, grasses and corn, and of course birds come too to eat the insects.  Although lower in protein, sometimes bees have no other pollen choice.  Grasses are the most important producers of allergens in our area.  Many of us are especially allergic to reed canary grass pollen, whether we realize it or not.  Tap a seed head and watch in amazement the huge cloud of pollen issuing forth!  (I exaggerate.)

The wind is a very common and important seed-dispersal agent as well of course, not only in prairies, but also for tree species such as pine and maple.  The whirlybirds of the maple and pine are familiar.

Seed dispersal by wind is called anemochory.  Anemo, meaning wind, as we know, and chory, a suffix meaning to spread or disperse.  Plants using the wind produce lots and lots of seeds that are very light and often winged.  

Sometimes entire plants are blown around, like tumbleweeds.  Some seeds have hairy plumes, some have balloons, some fuzzy parachutes.  (Dandelion seeds can fly 500 miles, and the Javan cucumber seed, with five-inch papery wings, can glide more than the length of a football field - with no wind!)

Above are some of the anemochorous seeds we collect at Pleasant Valley, seeds we call the “fluffies.”  To name them and a few more:  liatris, goldenrod, asters, milkweed, ironweed, lion’s foot, thistles, joepye weed, ragwort, bonsets, pale and sweet Indian plantain, and on.  Grass and sedge “seeds” are small, light, papery fruits carrying one seed (achenes).  Of course, animals do eat and spread these seeds as well (zoochory), and the wind will even blow seeds around that have landed on water (wait for it…pleustochory, such as willows, and cattails).  Pleust means to sail or float.  And scientists must name things.  

At right are pine seeds liberated from their cones.  Below are seeds of big bluestem.  You’ve no doubt noticed that not everything that is blowing in the wind in seed dispersal is the actual seed.  In like manner, if you were to fly to New Zealand you would indeed be carried by the wind, but you would also undoubtedly be wrapped in an aircraft of some kind.  Similarly, seeds flying happily away from their parent plant are often surrounded by thin, papery ovary walls (grasses and sedges) and/or are attached to flower or leaf (calex) parts modified as feathery appendages, fuzzy parachutes, or wings.

Blowin’ In The Wind, by Bob Dylan (excerpt)

“…how many times can a man turn his head

and pretend that he just doesn’t see?

…and how many times must a man look up

before he can see the sky?

…The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.

The answer is blowin’ in the wind.”
 

There is a Season

 “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”  (Pete Seeger, 1959 and made famous as “Turn! Turn! Turn!” by The Byrds, 1965)

“A time to plant, a time to reap that which is planted….A time to keep, and a time to cast away.”  (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

Phenology:  the study of cyclic and seasonal natural phenomena such as migration, flowering, seed formation, spawning…repeated life cycle events.  Changes in the timing of these events from year to year reflect seasonal changes in temperature, moisture, disturbance, daylight and in the interconnections of the individuals living in an area.

I made this little table with its 2023 dates in order to inform this older person next year approximately when to collect some rare early prairie species and when to go after small areas of pesky weeds that I’m particularly suited to tackle (because focusing on smaller, picky tasks is sometimes better left to the slower moving).  You’ll note that some of the more “famous,” meaning in-your-face large, labor intensive weed problems, that even Pleasant Valley Conservancy still has, have been left out:  for example, garlic mustard, reed canary grass and the sweet clovers.  Amanda takes care, mostly, of the big nasties.  (This chart ends where July ends, but collecting seeds and weeding will be ongoing.)

Our website has a table of yearly seed collecting times for a much wider list of species: https://pleasantvalleyconservancy.org/seedcollectingtimes.html

At right are seed pods of Bird’s-Foot Violet (Viola  pedata) copied from Tom’s Blog.  I mostly missed the seeds this year, and noticed that Tom’s collecting time differs somewhat from my estimated times.  My chart is not his chart and these charts are not your chart.  You are making your own - to remind yourself to keep coming back.   Next year’s first wood lily blossom may be on June 5 instead of June 8.  I only hope I am there to see it, after a winter and a spring.  But if I miss it, I will not be so sadly at a loss as will the warbler who misses an early or late oak bloom, or the pollinator who emerges after the blossom wilts.

Asymmetric phenological shifts or mismatches, such as de-coupling of plant-pollinator or predator-prey interactions, are becoming more common as we warm the planet.  Hardly the comedy of my dog Luna not fitting (unexpectedly) through the cat door, but the misfortune of food spoiling before the guests arrive, of a bee waking up before the dandelions bloom, of baby birds needing insects that have already blown in the wind.

“In our sad mismatch, that unforgettable encounter -

that was never completed.”  (alkas poetry)

“…why, since these be changed since May, shouldst thou change less they they?”   (Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Change upon Change)