Oddly enough, today’s #stampoftheday, which features flora from four different parts of the US, captures a thought I had in the shower last night, not long after I posted yesterday’s #stampoftheday.

It occurred to me that in the “before time” (i.e the time before COVID), we would often travel and one of the things I loved about those trips was the opportunity to discover and learn about the odd nooks and crannies of someplace I never knew I was interested in. For example, several years ago, after we moved my mother into an apartment in a continuing care community, my wife and I spent a few days recuperating in the mountains of North Carolina, near Asheville. One day we decided to go to Carl Sandburg’s house because we read that it had a nice hiking trail with a good view. It did, and, as long as we were there, we decided to tour the house and the adjacent goat farm that his wife had started on the land. It turned out to be a wonderful and fascinating day. One of my favorite memories was seeing that Sandburg, like my mother, found it difficult to throw away newspapers and magazine. So while Sandburg died in July 1967, the floor of the living room, which supposedly was untouched after his death, had the same piles of older newspapers and magazines that we had just wrested from my mother as we packed her house up for the move.

Of course, such ephemeral experiences are less common in these times of semi-quarantine and careful travel (if we travel at all). Perhaps, I thought, the #stampoftheday is my replacement for those experiences. And, what’s really great is that unlike “normal” travel the #stampoftheday is not bound by space or time. So, unlike a road trip, it’s possible to go, as I have in recent days, from a naval battle off the coast of Nova Scotia in 1812 to Hawaii’s statehood in 1959 and then back across North America to Harvard Yard in the late 19th century. Moreover, I get to take this journey with a diverse group of people who include high school and college classmates; friends, colleagues, mentors, and acquaintances from Boston; my sister, some of my sister’s friends, some people who are connected to my former classmates, friends, and acquaintances as well complete strangers who have somehow decided to come along for the ride.

Bizarrely, that’s sort of the theme of today’s stamp which actually is four 6-cent stamps issued on August 23, 1969 in honor of the eleventh International Botanical Congress. This block is special because it was the first to feature flora from four different parts of the US. (It’s also special because it was the first stamp to the Latin names of the plants it portrayed).

So buckle in for a quick trip around the US, and, in one case, back in time as well. Let’s begin in the Pacific Northwest which usually found on the top left of a US map and is represented on the top left of this plate block by the Douglas fir. This tree, which is not a true fir, grows along the West coast from British Columbia to central California and can survive at elevations from sea level to 5,900 feet. This tree is the second-tallest conifer in the world and can grow to 250 feet or more and live for more than 500 years.

Now let’s drop down the map – and the stamp – to the Southwest where we find the ocotillo, which also is called candlewood, desert coral, or vine cactus. The ocotillo, which is found in the Sonoran and Chihuahuan Deserts of Southwestern US and Northern Mexico, can grow to 33 feet tall. In drier weather, it appears dead, but when it rains small leaves and bright crimson flowers appear and are pollinated by hummingbirds and carpenter bees.

Let’s jump cattycorner across the continent – and the stamp – to the Northeast, where we’ll find the lady’s slipper, a member of the orchid family that can grow from six to fifteen inches tall and live for over 20 years. In the past, its roots were used to treat nervousness, toothaches, and muscle spasms. Since the flower’s seeds don’t have an ample supply of nutrients, the lady’s slipper draws needed nutrients from the threads of a fungus found in the soil (which means it can only grow where that fungus is found).

Finally, let’s journey south (and back in time) to view Franklinia (also known as the Franklin Tree) that originally was found only in a three-acre spot along Georgia’s Altamaha River. The tree that became extinct in the wild in the early 1800s but still exists in cultivated specimans that exist because in the 1700s by botanist John Bartram, who is considered the father of American botany, and his son William, who was a talented artist, collected the tree’s seeds and sent them to England.

So, in one four-panel plate, I have traveled all over the United States and, in doing so, I also got to see a tree that is extinct in the wilds. Not bad for a rainy Sunday evening in Lexington, Massachusetts. I hope you enjoyed the trip as much as I did.

Be well, stay safe, fight for justice, and work for peace.