Appalachia Wildflowers & Trees Of Appalachia

Goldenrod According To Blind Pig Readers

goldenrod in Appalachia

 

Goldenrod according to Blind Pig Readers:

Carol: It’s been a good year for Golden Rod around here. My honeybees are enjoying it. Packing it in for the winter.

Miss Cindy: This time of year my mother used to always quote a poem….”The Goldenrod is yellow, the leaves are turning brown, the trees in the apple orchard with fruit are bending down”….and that’s all I remember of it. I always notice the goldenrod, how can you not notice it this time of year when it blankets the fields. I know frost will soon be with us and we’ll have to rake leaves.

Ron Banks: I use to help an aunt in-law gather Goldenrod so she could make an herbal tea from it. I don’t remember exactly what is was used for but I think it was for stomach problems and that she would swear by it. If you had an ailment or affliction she had a remedy for it. She was a true Appalachian woman who I admired tremendously. I always think of her when the Goldenrod blooms and what a treasure she was to the people who knew and loved her. R.I.P Punkin!

Tom: Goldenrod is certainly in abundance here in My Old Kentucky home.

B.Ruth: Tipper, Beautiful photo….I think that Goldenrod is the Fall example of Springs (golden bells) Forsythia. There seems to be a contest of yellows…I believe Goldenrod is winning…don’t you? When we were out gathering the “Scuppernongs” last Sunday afternoon, we passed a field, slightly on a hillside. It was a wash of yellow. Actually very breathtaking..not in an allergy sense either…By the time I yelled at the driver, grabbed my camera, we were too far down the Interstate to turn around…I am so glad that I have the picture in my minds eye…such a blessing it was.

Kay Keen: My mother, said when the goldenrod blooms winter is just around the corner.

Hope you enjoyed the Goldenrod comments as much as I did!

Tipper

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14 Comments

  • Reply
    Melissa P (Misplaced Southerner)
    October 8, 2014 at 10:00 am

    I have to let y’all know that the goldenrod is STILL blooming some up here in Michigan. I think this may be the latest I can recall it still here. Funny thing, we still have a few late hummingbirds, too. Must be something to that. I’ll have to make a note to keep that in mind in coming years. If the ‘rod is still bloomin, are there still hummers around? Not really scientific, but not completely un-scientific, either.

  • Reply
    Leslie
    September 27, 2014 at 9:29 pm

    The British call it
    farewell-to-summer.
    I just love that.

  • Reply
    A H Shew
    September 27, 2014 at 7:42 pm

    THOSE BLOOMING GOLDENRODS!
    I knew of the poem ’bout Goldenrod,
    but my memory has flickered and gone.
    When I looked in my head,
    it was withered and dead.
    So I had to write one of my own.

  • Reply
    Sheryl Paul
    September 27, 2014 at 2:49 pm

    It is beautiful when blooming

  • Reply
    Gus N Tiatt
    September 27, 2014 at 1:03 pm

    Speak not herein of Goldenrod
    Alluring fall paramour of bees
    Flaxen flashes foretell its delights
    Its dander oft elicits a sneeze

  • Reply
    Ken Roper
    September 27, 2014 at 12:51 pm

    Tipper,
    I enjoyed the comments about the
    goldenrods. Those are probably the
    last of new life we’ll see before
    all the leaves start falling.
    Hope you all are having a good time
    in Gainesville today. Wish I could
    be there lost in the audience, but
    my woodpile is calling…Ken

  • Reply
    DOUG BISHOP
    September 27, 2014 at 12:39 pm

    From the PoemHunter.com
    September by Helen hunt Jackson
    The goldenrod is yellow;
    The corn is turning brown;
    The trees in apple orchards
    With fruit are bending down
    The gentian’s bluest fringes
    Are curling in the sun;
    In dusty pods the milkweed
    Its hidden silk has spun
    The sedges flaunt the their harvest,
    in every meadow nook
    And asters by the brookside
    Make asters in the brook
    From the dewey lanes at morning
    The grapes sweet odors rise
    At noon the roads all flutter
    With yellow butterflies
    By all these lovely tokens
    Septembers says are here
    With summers best of weather
    And autumn’s best of cheer
    But none of all this beuty
    Which floods the earth and air
    Is unto me the secret
    Which makes September fair
    ’tis a thing which I rember;
    To name it thrills me yet
    One day of one September
    I never can forget
    Helen Hunt Jackson

  • Reply
    b. Ruth
    September 27, 2014 at 11:16 am

    Tipper,
    Were your ears burning yesterday afternoon and evening? I was talking about the Blind Pig Gang wishing I could be there seeing you all! At the same time wishing you were here with us at the 22 Annual Fall Heritage Festival and Old Timers Day at Townsend, TN. foothills of the Smokey Mountains. There were little groups of string bands on every corner of the porch (really) of the Visitor Center, in tents in the fields and bluegrass and country bands on the main stage changing every hour. All these old timers were flatfootin’, buck dancing and clogging! Just your regular mountain folks got up and buck danced, clogged etc. Some with taps, some not! I thought boy oh boy those Pressley gals could have danced up a storm for this crowd, when “Down Yonder” and “Orange Blossom Special” was played! A wonderful Fall Heritage event, fried apple pies, story telling, corn dogs, contra dancers, BBQ, fiddles playin’, funnel cakes, old men in beards flatfooting’ and children learning from the old fellers’, kettle korn, Bill Monroe music, did I mention bloomin’ onions’, m gospel music, old noisy antique machine-made ice cream like the olden days! I keep going back to food, when all I had was homemade squeezed lemonade and kettle korn! What I wish also, would be for all those, and there will be many, as it goes on thru Sunday, to see and hear The Blind Pig Gang play, sing and dance!
    I talked about you and the Blind Pig Gang every chance I got, telling about your heritage blog and music!
    We were home by 10:00 PM, since the foothills are just a hop, skip and jump from home.
    We hope to see you soon at one of your events, and who knows some of those folks that I met last night may be there as well! Thanks Tipper,
    PS…By the way, the Goldenrod was blooming, but beginning to fade some in the foothills and as evening wore on, it got a bit chilly!
    |

  • Reply
    Mary Lou McKillip
    September 27, 2014 at 10:14 am

    Tipper. dry them and use in a large churn jar for attraction of onlookers;Mixed with others wild flowers in the fall.

  • Reply
    Ethelene Dyer Jones
    September 27, 2014 at 9:58 am

    Your beautiful photograph of the bee on the blooming goldenrod stalk, and Miss Cindy’s remembering lines from Helen Hunt Jackson’s poem, “September” made me want to look up the poem and refresh its lines in my memory. Here it is, all 7 stanzas and 28 lines! It was published posthumously (She was born in 1830, died in 1885) in the book, Poems, by Helen Jackson in Boston by Roberts Brothers, Publishers, in 1893. Here is the poem. Go on the walk through all she sees in September’s panoply, beginning with the goldenrod! But you will learn that she’s really enjoying September because it is a special month, an anniversary, of something she remembers and marks as very important in her life. But she does not share what is so special about September. We have to guess what she meant! But you can be assured she knew! Enjoy Helen Hunt Jackson’s poem:
    September
    (Helen Hunt Jackson, 1830-1885)
    The golden-rod is yellow;
    The corn is turning brown;
    The trees in apple orchard
    With fruit are bending down.
    The gentian’s bluest fringes
    Are curling in the sun;
    In dusty pods the milkweed
    Its hidden silk has spun.
    The sedges flaunt their harvest,
    In every meadow nook;
    And asters by the brook-side
    Make asters in the brook.
    From dewey lanes at morning
    The grapes’ sweet odors rise;
    At noon the roads all flutter
    With yellow butterflies.
    By all these lovely tokens
    September days are here,
    With summer’s best of weather,
    And autumn’s best of cheer.
    But none of all this beauty
    Which floods the earth and air
    Is unto me the secret
    Which makes September fair.
    ‘Tis a thing which I remember;
    To name it thrills me yet:
    One day of one September
    I never can forget.

  • Reply
    Shirla
    September 27, 2014 at 9:21 am

    The Goldenrod is supposed to have medicinal benefits, but when it blooms, it sends me looking for medicine. My allergies are always worse this time of year. My doctor must be a Goldenrod fan, as he blames the sneezing and wheezing on Ragweed.

  • Reply
    dolores
    September 27, 2014 at 8:38 am

    I enjoy seeing the fields of goldenrod as I drive through a rural area. Such a pretty shade of yellow.

  • Reply
    Carol Stuart
    September 27, 2014 at 8:35 am

    A little tune from my elementary school days: “Asters are here and goldenrod too, heap up the cart with yellow and blue.”

  • Reply
    Miss Cindy
    September 27, 2014 at 7:45 am

    Yes, it’s that time of year. The Goldenrod are glorious and lethal to sinuses. LOL!
    I would know they are blooming even if I couldn’t see them. I’m really not complaining, it’s just part of living in the mountains and I love living in the mountains!

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