The Pace of Christmas Morning: a poem

 

The Pace of Christmas Morning

 

The only sounds I hear
are the creak of my boots
on the layer of snow atop the sidewalk
this Christmas morning

and the squeak of my hood
against my winter hat,
a child’s multi-colored knit beanie with
double pom-poms sewn on top like ears. 

A small crabapple leans in towards me
as I walk south to the end of the street,
its branches reaching barely above my head,
berries clinging in the slight wind. 

As I reach the end of the street and
turn around, I face my own boot prints.
I walk where my own feet have trod. 

My toes touch heel prints,
my heels press where my toes
once met the snow over the concrete. 

My pace is less than my usual two-foot length
toe-to-toe, the small patches
of snow and ice keeping me cautious.   

This specific length is one I know because
my boss the soil professor had me measure

the distance of my regular pace
during my freshman year of college
in order to mark out his research plots, 

two feet being the same length
my son nearly stretched
from head to toe the day he was born. 

But today he stretches far above me,
far above every member of the family
nestled back at my parents’ house 

where I am headed. He is almost as tall
as this crabapple tree I greet a second
time as I walk beneath berry-laden
branches now covered in snow. 

The flakes, bright fat clusters falling happily,
cling to everything they touch, whitening the
landscape, tapping me on my shoulders, my glasses, 

saying oh happy day, happy morning, today
is a day to gather as I reach the door behind which
my family sits, our own cluster of happy celebration,
feet tucked in socks, hands wrapped around coffee cups, 

Christmas the easy pace of the day.

 ***

 by Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle Paschold

written 12.25.23

*****

If you liked this, check out my book Horizons!  Found on Atmosphere Press website or email me at jpaschold @ gmail.com for a signed copy 

 Come to a poetry reading if you are in the area!  Schedule found on my post here. 

One More Time: a poem

 

One More Time

 I hope you know
when I deleted your messages
it was not me deleting you;
that I still see your eyes
and remember your words
and feel your hands and lips
and body, still smell
the smell of you on my couch.
That I wish we had one last
pleasant moment after the pain,
that we could have spoken
words of closure, that I
could reach back and show
you why I did what I did,
and it wasn’t because of you
but what others have done
to me that broke and scarred
who I am today, that I am
trying, that you matter to me,
that I believed what you
said and I thought we were
headed somewhere other than
off a dead-end cliff,
that when I didn’t hear from
you it felt as though you had
disposed of me and that I
was garbage to you, and now
when we see each other you
will act as if we are
strangers, that I meant
and mean nothing to you.
I want to tell you in the quiet
when it is only us two
that I am sorry, oh, just
one more time, to see you
and tell you to your face—
I still care, I’m still here,
I still miss you—
each and every blessed day.

 ***

Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle Paschold

12.17.23

 

Revising and Editing Poetry

 

Revising and Editing Poetry

“The way to stay fresh in poetry is to do something that makes you uncomfortable” –Julie S. Paschold, to a graduate poetry class at the University of Nebraska-Kearney

 

I recently consulted an Advanced Poetry class for graduate students at the University of Nebraska at Kearney.  They were interested in the subject of editing and revising their poetry.

Here are some considerations and things to think about when sitting down with one of your poems, or a collection:

Things to Consider for One Poem:

·         Is this a form poem, or free verse?

o   for form, are you rigidly following the rules, or breaking some of them?

o   for form, does the poem still make sense and flow?

·         Read the poem aloud

o   How does it sound?

§  choppy, smooth, rhyming, flowing

o   Does it make sense?  Is it supposed to?

o   What is the message? Who is the intended audience?

o   Do you repeat words—intentionally?  Too much? Do some of them need to be replaced with a synonym or deleted?

o   Is it too descriptive, not enough?

o   What can you remove and still maintain the message?

o   What needs to be rephrased?

o   Is it too long or short?

o   How does it end—abruptly? Surprise? Are you satisfied? Do you leave them hanging at the end? Are you trying to upset them?

·         Have someone else read the poem aloud

o   How does it sound?

o   Does anything stand out…is it supposed to?

o   Do they stumble on anything?

o   Do they question something?

o   Is something missing? Or repetitive?

·         How does it look?

o   Justification: Center, Left, Right?

o   One solid mass? Verses? Indented lines?

·         If you have quotes: Use quotation marks or italics?

·         If you have dialogue: Do you use justification for the speakers (one right, one left)? Or verses? Or fonts? How to distinguish between them.

·         What is the tone? Horror, humor, sorrow, political, social/society, grief, romance….are you successful?

·         Does the “voice” or tone change in the middle of the poem?

·         Line breaks

o   Are they natural breaks, when someone would take a breath?

o   Do you intentionally break in the middle of a phrase or thought, jolting the person into paying attention, so the poem is jolted, too, breaking the poem or thought?

o   Are lines long or short?

o   Is there a rhythm to them?

o   Is this more narrative?

o   Do your sentences dictate a line break, or do you have sentences end in the middle of a line, indicating flow throughout the poem?

·         Can you split the poem into two?

·         Can you merge two shorter into one longer poem?

·         Is this a chapter poem?

·         Can you change a form poem into free verse, or a free verse into a form? 

·         Can you add a random line into the middle of the poem to change the tone or message or add distraction?

Things to Consider for a Collection:

·         What overall meaning or message are you trying to get across?

o   How does the title help do this?

·         Are there sub-groups within the collection?

·         As the message moves along the collection—what order does this take? How you place the poems regulates how you create the message.

·         What length are you looking for? Full manuscript? Small selection for a submission? Chapbook? Chapter in a manuscript?

·         What does it have to have, be, or sound like in order to “fit” what you are looking for?

o   Do you have to change anything in order to do this?

o   Do you have to remove or add a poem in order to do this?

o   Do you have to edit a poem in order to do this?

If you are too close to a poem, and have trouble emotionally separating yourself from the subject, either read the poem to another person, or imagine yourself as another person. Edit as though you were in their shoes: it is a bit of a dissociating tactic.

I usually take a break between writing a poem and editing it. I write by hand first, wait at least a day, then type it up.  While typing, I edit.  Then I read it aloud, and type further.  If I am still unsure, I have someone read it to me and edit again.  I will caution, however: YOU CAN EDIT A POEM TOO MUCH. There is a point when you need to put a poem away. If you are unsure about whether you are done or not, put it aside for a while.  Or try one of the last five bullet points in the above list for single poems: breaking it up, merging, adding a line, changing form, etc. Or accepting it as it is.

In the above quote, I closed by stating that remaining stagnant in a form or method that keeps you comfortable keeps you from growing.  Try a form you haven’t before. Use prompts that get you out of your normal thoughts. If you write sad poems, write a humorous one. Write a prose poem if you normally write short poems. Write collaborative poems with another poet. Share poetry with others. Get up and try a poetry slam, or just try reading in front of an open mic. Do something you normally wouldn’t. This keeps you fresh, keeps you growing and improving and developing as a poet and as a person.

I hope this helps!  Let me know if you found this useful.

Thanks for reading,

Julie S. Paschold,

    author of Horizons (Atmosphere Press)

jpaschold@gmail.com
https://jpaschold.blogspot.com
https://medium.com/@jpaschold

 

12.7.23

Extra Protein: a poem

 

Extra Protein

 

I declare to you:

I do believe
that I just drank a fly.

The insect, that is.
You know, like the song…
I know an old lady
who swallowed a fly
I don’t know why…

Only I think I know
why I swallowed this lump
that floated down my throat
just a minute ago.

I left an open can of energy drink,
half full,
on my work desk at the office
yesterday, and this morning
as I hastily guzzled a sizeable gulp
of the sweet caffeine,
I inadvertently partook
of a small unfortunate creature
whose curiosity last night
was the death of him,
drowning instead of swimming
in a dark aluminum cave of sugared liquid,

soon to spin
in a sea of acid.
I can feel him headed there now,
a lump of chitin with curled legs—
causing me to suppress my gag reflex,
but still be able to ponder his journey.

Alas, as they say,
I needed a bit of extra
protein, anyway!

*** 

Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle Paschold

11-10-23

Introducing My First Poetry Book, "Horizons"

 My first poetry book, Horizons (Atmosphere Press) 

Winner of the 2024 Nebraska Book Award
(Design Honor Category)

AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK AND AUDIOBOOK as of December 1, 2023!!

SEE BELOW TO ORDER!!!!

Embark on a captivating journey through the vibrant world of living soil, where new horizons await under the very ground we tread and the tapestry of human experience unfolds.

This is an invitation to delve deep into the bonds of family, to explore identity and the spectacular essence of beauty, and to discover the marvels of Mother Nature's cyclical dance. Horizons pays homage to the richness of soil, a precious nonrenewable resource, blending the art of poetry with the wonders of science and everyday life.

So come join us on this expedition, those of you from all walks of life, starting from the bedrock of soil and venturing forth until we reach the breaking of the earth, to bask in the sun.

Order Here:

Barnes & Noble (paperback & audiobook)

Amazon (paperback, ebook, audiobook)

Target (paperback)

**Of course, the best way to order a paperback (and get a signed copy) is through the author at jpaschold@gmail.com or come to a reading ($18 + postage)**

See below for schedule

Other Places to Purchase the paperback Horizons and support local owners:

Francie & Finch Bookstore, 130 S 13th Street, Lincoln, NE 68508

Norfolk Arts Center, 305 N. 5th Street, Norfolk, NE 68701

Your Forte, 415 Chestnut St, Atlantic, IA 50022

***AUDIOBOOK INFORMATION ****
If you need or prefer this version...HERE ARE ALL THE WAYS TO ORDER!

This is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Spotify, Libby, and pretty much everywhere audiobooks are sold.  Here are some links to help you out:

Google Play

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Libro

Storytel

 

Author Events:

• Tuesday, December 3, 2024; 6:30 PM @ FREE online through Nebraska Poetry Society

Lament of a Burning Hollow: a poem

 

Lament of a Burning Hollow

The tree that perches in the soil of me
and fondles all my cares
is empty
save one
and I have left it ripening
for you.

Take it, this orb of flesh and feeling,
this fruit of yearning and hope.
Palm it, my years of untouched skin
until you are ready to feed your desire.

If I could, I would wash my hands
of my shame, gather my crazy from
the tendrils of your memory,
each day a pebble rustling.
I would leave this crusted-over
sagging heavy load in the midst
of burning thistles,
all thorns aflame,
leaving roots ready to stretch,
a soil refreshed anew.

Some say desire is a fire
but all I have is the shape of emptiness,
of missing you;
the thread of silence
coils around this heart.
The hole within grows as it clenches;
when I am near you, the ache enlarges
into the hollow shape of your touch.

It is as if you are no longer real;
no one’s life exists until it is shared.
You are no one now.
No one loves me.
No one wants to touch me.
No one fills my heart.

No one fades to a whisper.
No one is in the wind.
No one has seen it
blowing the tears I do not cry.

 

Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle Paschold

10.14.23

written in Norfolk Library’s Writing Lab, pulling words and ideas from various poems and stories

Once, Again: An old poem revisited

Posting an oldie but a goodie.  I wrote this for my sister, who was a state officer in the Order of Rainbow for Girls.  But the symbolism in this can touch so many other people at this point in the political and cultural scheme of things.  If you have reached out and fallen; rest.  But don't stay.  Find a rainbow, and reach again.  You will indeed find a friend. 

Once….Again

Once I tried to
                        touch a star
                        reach a constellation.

I  s t r e t c h e d
my hand way up there,
            but I couldn’t
                        touch the stars.

Once I tried to
                        touch a star
                        reach a constellation.

I struggled, hanging on to nothing
Hoping for my life.

But they  t h r e w  me back
            and I went hurtling
to the ground
where I began.

 Yes, once I tried to
                        touch a star
                        reach a constellation.

But instead of getting everything—
                        the heavens and unknown—
            I ended up back on the ground.

The stars were not my own.

 Yet later,
            in a cloud
            I found a ladder made
                        of a rainbow, arched
                        and to take step by step.

So, daring once more to
                        touch a star
                        reach a constellation

My hands grasped the edges
and my feet found a rung.

I began my climb once more. 

 ***

Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle Paschold
June 1994

Just Fishing: a poem

 

Just Fishing

Something fishy this way comes
or he wants it to
standing on the edge of the riverbank,
a new spot he’s found now that
he’s moved away after high school,
feet standing in the tall grass
remembering days of chasing
popcorn frogs and water bugs
by the sandy rim of the lake
when he was knee high to a
grasshopper and too excited to
concentrate on his own fishing line.
Now he straightens his cap and
recasts, reflecting on the bird
quietly watching him from the tree
branch across the water, wondering
if it’s one of the few wandering in
from the south, visitors from the
warm climates who can’t handle
the midwestern winters; an example
of each immigrant species laying
with wings folded and feet clutching
invisible twigs, their backs pressing
against glass shelves in the University’s
new exhibit in the museum, colorful
feathered bellies rounded, facing up
in the case he walked by on the way to
the mounted insects, pointing out
each one he has encountered in his
short two decades here on this planet,
now listening to the water trickle
by against small stones as the fish
he waits to hook create rings on the
small still surface of a pooled outcrop
beside him, and the time, the sun,
this afternoon, for once seems to
almost stand still, as still as the
moment before his pole bends and
his bait yields a bite and his shout
sends the startled bird off flapping,
tree branch waving goodbye, goodbye.

Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle Paschold

 

1971 to 2023: Have We Really Changed?

1971 to 2023: Have We Really Changed?

I was perusing the discards of our local library’s book sale, and came across some issues of LIFE magazine from 1971. Interested, I picked up a couple to read later. 

Scanning through the issue for May 7, 1971, I was encouraged to see the things that have changed, and depressed that so many haven’t in the 52 years that have passed.  

You’d like to think that we have progressed, but I’m not so sure. On the front, in bold huge white letters, proclaims there exists a feminist that even men like. Our culture is still very reliant on the prejudices that define the binary genders of man and woman, even though some of us are trying very hard to step out of that limiting world. But here are some of my observations while reading this magazine:

Something that hasn’t changed: the alcohol ads, especially whiskey. We are still addicted to our chemicals, and like the feeling it gives us, or need the feeling it gives us.  We keep it legal because some of us can control our intake, and only socially drink the liquid, while more and more of us have developed into alcoholics, where it dictates our lives.

Something that has changed: the cigarette ads.  There were so many in this magazine, it amazed me. We still have tobacco as legal, but we stamp the warnings all over the packaging, and you don’t see advertisements for the cancer-sticks in every other page that you read.  One of these even implies that you don’t have to light it, just keep it in your mouth, because smoking makes you look cool and sophisticated. Does anyone else miss the Marlboro Man?

In 1971, they were still getting used to the Civil Rights Act of 1964.  It was still relatively new, and especially in the southern United States, some areas were having trouble adjusting. Now, you would think we would have had time to fully integrate our neighborhoods and lives and cities and businesses.  That isn’t the case.  Some neighborhoods are still not desegregated or treated equally; we are still dealing with racism and healing from wounds due to treating “different” people cruelly. We can put a law on paper, but you can’t force a person to stop handing their bad attitude down to their children.

Technology changed drastically in 52 years.  There were cameras with film, window air conditioners, a “new” concept in whole house air conditioning, the new toaster oven to try. Now, we take digital photos with our cameras, you can’t find window air conditioning because every house comes with central air, and who uses a toaster oven? We have air fryers and hot pots.  You would almost think their minds were primitive.  At least they weren’t scared of a vaccine. An article reminded us that, starting in 1923, they proudly came together and rid the world of diphtheria.  That disease is extremely rare today because everyone possible got vaccinated. Ditto with polio; every person bared their arms for the vaccine to eradicate the disease.  What do we have today with COVID-19? A situation like the flu.  When the flu epidemic hit in 1918, they didn’t stop it with a vaccine; it ran its course until everyone either died or became immune. That made the virus able to survive, and mutate into variants that still hit us today.  It keeps on mutating, so we are unable to eradicate it (there are too many variants now), we just fight it the best we can with the few antibodies we have in the flu shots you get each year.  This is what happened to the COVID-19 virus.  Because not everyone was willing to get their vaccine, it survived to mutate again and again, and lives among us to kill again and again. We are so hung up on our individual rights, that we can’t see what is better for the human race.  It is all about me, me, me. 

In 1971, they had a photo of a child playing with a gun to demonstrate danger.  You would never see that ad today.  What you saw then, and still see now? Complaints of city crime and overcrowded, clogged prisons, and varying opinions on how to solve that.

In 1971, people wanted the Vietnam War to end, even to the point of running against Nixon in the election (Paul McClosky).  We know how that went.  Now we are arguing over gun policies. Should we regulate guns, make you apply and pass a series of tests, and wait for your gun, thus handing out less guns to fewer people; or should we let anyone own a gun to fight their own crime in their own home; put the law in their hands?  Which one would lessen the violence? Again, is it about what is better for everyone, or is it all about me?

Other things that have changed:

·         Station wagons are no longer cool, especially the ones with the fake wood paneling

·         Cars no longer cost only $2174

·         Automatic transmission in a car is no longer a novel thing

·         Music is available on other medium than records

·         Water and ice dispensers are standard now on refrigerators

 

Some things still haven’t changed:

·         We have a fascination with death and hell and gore (then, The Exorcist was just coming out in book form.  Now, we have everything from IT to The Walking Dead to the creatures that you can kill in video games)

·         We use comedy to cover trauma; we laugh to change something painful into something that is funny (Neil Simon said this is why he wrote comedy instead of drama).

·         We are more concerned with political parties: Republican or Democrat: with how we differ than how we can come together to get along. Our politics and the outspoken on the soapbox are the rich, old, and extreme governing the masses, who fuel our anger, catch us off guard, and gather the vulnerable and uneducated under their wings.

·         The average person is ambiguous in their true beliefs on social issues. They are sorry for the downtrodden blue-collar worker and the hard-up person who can’t get ahead, but they blame them, too. They don’t want to hate anyone different, but they don’t want them as friends or living next door, either. They are frustrated and fearful, and this is what leaders feed on.

·         Feminism is still fighting. Germaine Greer’s big issue in 1971 was speaking out against marriage and abortion. Roe v. Wade hadn’t happened yet (1973). Who knew we would be back there again, running 52 years backwards? We need feminists even more than ever.

·         We are still hurting the environment. The Clean Air Act had just been written in 1970, and the government was still figuring out how to regulate it.  It went through a big change in 1990. We are getting better.  But. In 1971, there were wilderness fires that occurred because of draining wetlands. Now, we are still affecting global warming, and we are fighting wildfires and forest clearings, lowering native fruit tree yields that kill wildlife and melting ice, increasing global temperature and our continued use of coal.

 

Something I have learned from reading 52 years into the past: it’s an old saying….

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

 

Time moves so fast—sometimes, though…it doesn’t move fast enough. And sometimes it seems to be moving backwards.

 

Thanks for reading

 

May 30, 2023

Tansy Julie Soaring Eagle Paschold

Water: Diving into Fear

 

Water: Diving into Fear

Most of us love water. We float on it, we swim in it, we cleanse ourselves in it, we make love in it, we fight in it.

We gravitate towards lakes and oceans to relax on vacations, baring our skin in colorful suits of strings covering just the essentials to not embarrass our neighbors. We stand in front of rivers, holding poles with hooks to catch animals with fins for fun just to be near the wet substance. We build floating vehicles to travel on top of water; we build tanks that will take us deep into the dark, past the light, to see the creatures that swim and live beyond our land.

We use it to wash the grime and stink off our bodies, the dirt and smell of everyday living; we scrub the surfaces of our houses and cars with it to rid our belongings of the evidence of time and use and age. We stand under cold sprays to wake us up, our kids run through sprinkles with glee for fun, we sit in it to refresh ourselves after a hard day.

We are made of it. Our brains are 85 percent water, our whole bodies are 55 to 60 percent of the basic liquid that supports this life. We are walking water bags on bones. We need to take in 2 ½ to 3 ½ liters of liquid a day just to stay alive. The planet needs it. We give water to our pets, we water our plants, we wish for rain in the drought so our lawns don’t dry out and our gardens don’t fail. Elephants walk for hundreds of miles in search of it. Deserts dry out because of it; rainforests thrive because of it. Each living thing needs water. It is an essential part of every living being here on earth.

So why would you fear water?

Ever hear that you can have too much of a good thing? Even water can kill.  Even something that is so good for you, can kill you.

Yes, you can drown in a body of water. We humans can’t breathe underwater with our mouths and lungs. But it is possible to drink too much water as well. Heathy kidneys can handle filtering about 20 liters of water a day, but if you have any health problems, or don’t intake enough vitamins or minerals or electrolytes, you can drown your body in the amount of water you drink, because your kidneys won’t be able to keep up, and your body will be holding too much water. You can kill yourself with a life-giving substance.

You can have a fear of water. Why would someone fear such a beautiful thing?  Imagine the ocean waves lapping over the sand, or a lake, the sun glinting off it, or the smell of a swimming pool, ready for your toes dipping in, your arms swimming laps back and forth. Beautiful, right? What if you were a previous drowning victim?  In a wheelchair? What if you had a prosthesis, a limb loss or difference? What if a physical disability didn’t allow you to walk confidently along the shoreline or the slippery tile around the pool?  What if you never learned how to swim? What if you watched your friend drown in front of you, and there was nothing you could do to save them? If your home was lost in a flood? What if you were in a boat that sunk, left you stranded out in the open water, drifting, helpless? I would fear the water as well.

How does one get over the fear of water? Do you throw them into the great wide open ocean, let them figure out how to swim on their own? Seems unkind, scary to me. When something lifegiving turns cruel and foreboding, when life-giver turns into murderer, what do you do? Can you stay away from water forever? I doubt it; it is a part of us; we are literal walking water bags on bones, remember? Are we scared of ourselves, then? In a way, yes, scared of too much of ourselves. Do we start gradually, one glass at a time, one pitcher, one bathtub, one kiddie pool, moving up until we can crouch at the edge of something larger than us? Can we grasp another’s hand along the way? Can we be brave enough to admit our fear to someone else?

Wait, brave enough to fear—does that make sense? How are you brave if you fear? It takes courage to admit you are fearful. It takes courage to stand up and do something about your fear. It takes courage to stand up against what makes you afraid, to change something, anything about yourself that you feel may need changing. It takes courage to stay open to the world around you, open to change. But we can. One drop at a time, we water bags on skeletons, we brainy calcified oceans, we lung-filled air breathing liquid earth walkers can challenge what we fear, can appreciate what we are made of, if we only learn to lean on one another, dip our arms, dip our legs, dip our torsos into the very substance of which we need to cleanse the dirt that clings to us, coming out not necessarily brand new, but refreshed and cleaner, somehow more whole, more ourselves, better for taking the dive into the unknown.

Tansy Julie Soaring Eagle Paschold

5-4-23

Thresholds in Crop Scouting

 We are quickly entering the spring season, when planting is on the mind, and we start thinking about weeds and pests. Our anxiety rises when considering treatment options for the critters out there who want to eat or crowd out what we are trying to grow for our livelihood.  I thought it was a good time to review just why it is a good idea to have a professional out there looking at your fields, and why, sometimes, they don't recommend doing anything, even when you think you see something that worries you.  Read on! 

Thresholds in scouting

Why we don’t always treat when we see a problem

When I scout a field, I look for anything out of the ordinary during the growing season.  Each part of the season brings a new set of challenges.  Early on, there are weeds to consider, emergence problems, and seedling diseases.  Later in the season, I look for nutrient deficiencies, insect feeding, and root and foliar diseases.  I look for damage from wind and drought. 

When I do see something that is out of the ordinary, I don’t always recommend acting on it.  I’m not just looking at insects for the opportunity to spray insecticides, and I’m not going to tell the producer to find a fungicide whenever I see a disease. 

Why is that? 

There are several reasons. 

First, there isn’t always something we can do about the problem.  For example, if there’s a water shortage or a drought in a dryland or rainfed field, I can note the leaves curling and plants wilting, but there’s no pivot to turn on.  All we can do is hope for rain.  In another case, there’s a relatively new pest haunting soybeans in my area called the soybean gall midge.  We have a couple years of research on this the little fly-like creature, but the adults spend their time in the ditches and woods surrounding the fields and only come into the fields to lay their eggs.  Once they hatch, the larvae, which are barely visible to the naked eye, quickly find cracks in the stems to hide away, burrowing into the interior of the plant.  Neither the adults nor the larvae would be affected by an insecticide treatment in the field—the adults aren’t in the field for very long, and the larvae are too well protected by their burrowing habits.  So alternate and preventative treatment considerations are being discussed.  For now, we observe and report. 

Second, it isn’t always the right time of the year to treat the problem.  I recently saw some corn plants with yellow whorls and interveinal chlorosis.  This definitely could be the sulfur we had yet to apply to the field, but more likely it was due to a pH problem.  When the plants are in the field, it isn’t the right time to be applying lime to correct the pH.  So, again, we can apply the sulfur, but have to schedule the lime for after harvest in the fall or next spring before planting.  Alternately, the problem could be larvae that had eaten their way through much of the vegetation, but most of them were already in pupae—they won’t be eating anything as adults, so it doesn’t warrant treating pupae who won’t respond to the insecticide.  Also, just because you see evidence of feeding on plants, doesn’t mean you see the critter that has been feeding on them—you may be treating a critter that isn’t even there anymore. 

Third, the problem isn’t always at the economic threshold to be able to warrant treating the problem.  No field is going to be perfectly pest-free, and no plant is going to be perfectly free of some sort of feeding or disease.  Universities come out with what they call “economic thresholds”, or the point at which a pest is going to create enough harm to the plant that yield will be adversely affected, and the extra expense of treating the field is worth it.  Not only are you paying for the chemical, but there’s the application fee if someone else does the application, and equipment cost, fuel, and time spent driving in the field if you do the application yourself.  The potential income from yield lost has to outweigh the cost to treat the pest.  In the case of insects, it may be number of insects per plant or amount of total feeding on the plant (percent of defoliation), in which every leaf on the plant is considered for total loss.  In the case of diseases, it may be percent of the field affected by the disease or number of lesions on each plant. 

Sometimes, scouting a field is more of an art form than a cut and dry numbers game.  Just because you see the critter out there—or even the evidence of it, doesn’t automatically mean there is something that can or should be done about it.  But that also doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be out there watching things grow, and keeping an eye on things.  Because the moment that threshold is crossed, and the season is right, timing is of the essence.  It helps to have someone that knows what they are looking for, and knows what they are looking at. 

It helps to have someone outstanding in the field.  [Yup.  I had to throw that pun in there.] 

Who’s looking out for your crops?

Thanks for reading.

Julie S. Paschold

originally written June 16, 2020

repost April 17, 2023