For the person who would know the wildflowers or understand plant connectedness or embrace plants as majestic, we have a special holiday.
Those first wildflowers of spring, the tundra in July and our aspen groves in September: they all present plants as especially appealing to our aesthetic selves.
They encourage us to behold plants as things of beauty.
That cliffbush growing from the fissure in the rock, the forked spleenwort emerging meekly from the crack in the granite and the Bell’s twinpod that prefers the slate-rich soil: they all present plants as biological components of the ecological world.
They invite us to regard plants as things of intellectual worthiness.
That bristlecone pine still growing more than two millenniums after it emerged from its seed, those cottonwoods that rise like monarchs from the floodplains to the sky and those ponderosa pines that survive the bite and sting of wildfire: they all present plants as durable creatures in the march of time.
They dare us to accept plants as things of majesty.
Thanksgiving is the botanist’s delight.
Consider all the plants that contribute to the Thanksgiving dinner, and the numbers and diversity can be stunning.
From the hops in your beer or the grapes in your wine, from the coffee or the tea you drink with dessert, you get four plant species in four plant families.
Depending on your tastes and your effort, that relish tray — olives, carrots, pickles — could offer a dozen species representing a half dozen more families.
That tossed salad probably holds lettuce from the sunflower family, radish from the mustard family, carrot and celery from the parsley family, cucumber from the squash family and tomato from the nightshade family.
Your vegetable side dishes offer a grand diversity. Sweet-potatoes from the morning-glory family and yams from the yam family resemble each other in appearance and taste, but they are strongly different species. Some broccoli from the mustard family, green beans from the pea family, corn from the grass family extend the list as do potatoes and beans and asparagus.
Dressing needs wheat from the grass family and various seasonings, many from the mint family. And the best dressing includes chestnuts from, of all things, the oak family.
Dessert can fatten the list. Chocolate from the mallow family and apple from the rose family make pies fabulous creations. A bit of cinnamon, a little nutmeg, some allspice and ample sugar from beets elevate those pies from mere desserts to gifts from heaven to the palate.
Everyone has his or her own perception of the perfect feast. Peanuts and cranberries and figs may be on or off the list. Spinach and oats and okra might be included or excluded depending on personal preferences.
A simple tally of plants at the Thanksgiving table easily reaches 50 species in two dozen families. Add the floral arrangements, cotton and linen in table cloths and placemats, wood in the table and chairs plus all the other details, and the list can nudge 100 species and three dozen families or even more if you seriously work at the tally.
So here we are a few days past the holiday. The dinner may be over, but the leftovers remain. Don’t just eat that Thanksgiving dinner again, but embrace it for the botanical wonder that it is.