Frost Flowers

Nature holds so many surprises for those lucky enough to explore her daily gift shop. Darlene just happened to be a lucky voyeur one cold early morning at Grand Lake.  Outside, the normally brown grasses of fall and winter sparkled with tiny bouquets of flowers resembling cotton candy or spun glass.

With camera in hand she stepped out among these natural beauties that seem to be found where tickweed grows.  This tickly plant, known more as a nuisance because of its seed ticks, is sometimes called frostweed (Verbesinia virginica) or Indian tobacco.   Unseen and unknown by most of us, at a perfect time of weather changes these tiny little weeds create delicate ice sculptures we call Frost Flowers.

The science seems fairly simple. When the ground temperature is still warm enough for the plants root system to be active, with juices flowing upwards, and the air temperature drops below freezing, then the moisture in the plant freezes, and ice crystals push out through the stem. Nature keeps her gift shop open for these ethereal crystals

to grow, as long as the juices flow, the air temperatures remain low, and the plant is shaded from the sun. How ironic that the early morning sun which gives these frost flowers their glow and sparkle, also destroys the sculpture.

                                    Nature's Gift Shop is Open.

Other sites to visit for more information on Frost Flowers:

rare video of frost flowers

Wonders of Nature

Frost Flowers

Thank you Darlene Bowline for sharing your story and photos of these fragile creations by Mother Nature. 

Golf Gypsy: Getting Serious

Decorated carts for good cheer at Belmar.

Some things in life are worth getting serious about, but a game of golf is just another opportunity to play for a great cause (Susan G. Komen Foundation), to meet new golf gypies, to play scenic golf courses, to test our hand at hitting great golf shots, and to enjoy hours of summer fresh air.  Sometimes keeping score is painful, but honesty and facing adversity is just part of the game.

Two golf gypsies doing the math.

Dawn Stork, a new golf gypsy friend, and I began our week of golf on a Saturday in August at Belmar Golf Club in Norman, OK as many women gathered to raise money for breast cancer research, a serious cause because I have friends who know the importance of this research.  One special friend is traveling this path, and I'm sure with the help of great doctors, research, friends, and family will make a speedy recovery...Manon you are on my mind and in my prayers.

Although our score for the Charity event didn't merit a "Win" we all went home with good cheer thanks to the generosity of Toby Keith and Barry Switzer.

Dawn and I continued our golf journey with three days of golf at Shangri La Golf Course on Grand Lake.  This was our first time to play in the Women's Oklahoma Golf Association's Partnership Tournament.  Imagine being able to spend three days on a golf course where you can take a deep breath between golf shots and look out in the distance and see the waters of Grand Lake.  It was truly a grand setting.  What's more we stayed with friends, Josie Armstrong and Ellen Cantrell,  in a home nearby where we relaxed every morning and evening on a deck with cool lake breezes and some gray cloudy skies in August.


The practice round gave us an opportunity to seriously study the golf course and its contours.  Since putting is one skill I enjoy practicing and executing I found these greens to be filled with undulating challenges, some with three tiers, but all with trouble lurking way too close to the greens for comfort.  Day one we were thrilled to shoot a 78 (using Dawn's best ball or my best ball on each hole.)  I do enjoy having a partner with which to share the anguish and celebrations.  Day two began with a par on a hole that we had previously double bogeyed, so for a moment I thought we could wag the dog's tail.  Then the golf bitch arrived to slap us around and remind us to be humble.  Eight holes of chaotic golf challenged our patience and perseverance, but in the end, and with the thanks from our gallery, we pulled our games back together and finished with another 78.  Our two rounds gave us the honor of winning our First Flight.

There is a time to be serious, a time to laugh, and a time to be thankful for each day in our lives and the people who surround us.  To all of my golf gypsy friends across the country, I am abundantly thankful to have each of you in my life.  Be of good cheer dear friends.

Letty Stapp Watt
historian, golfer



Storm Clouds

The storm is brewing in the west, while I'm perched high on a bluff overlooking Elk River as it blends into Grand Lake with its calm waters, boaters,  fishermen and women, pelicans, gulls and other swooping chattering birds.  A

Lee's Resort, Grand Lake, Oklahoma

talkative blue heron searching for a fisherman's handout just landed on the dock below bellowing its arrival.  As the onlooker perched on a peak, I watch in silence as the heron stalks the pier.   Shouldn't that bird be in the marsh or on the bank, but if he were I'd not have this opportunity to watch.  I had to chuckle as the heron lifted his leg and scratched his head.  Does this bird have fleas?

Lucy's at my feet protecting me from stray dogs, squirrels, and children.  Sitting in the wild of changing weather makes it difficult to concentrate on writing because I'm so busy feeling the temperature drop, noticing the changes from calm to white capped water, and seeing the green splotches of water currents floating on the blue gray cast of the lake waters.   Watching UBB's (unidentified brown birds)  fly below me, white gulls floating on air like snowflakes against the green hills across the water, and turnkey buzzards soar above is fascinating and quieting for the soul.  At home I know my birds--cardinals, orioles, wrens, robins, grackles, juncos, nuthatch--and their seasons, but the waters edge of Grand Lake brings a whole new landscape into view, even a late season hummingbird on a yellow rose bush, or perhaps it was one of those gigantic insects that I have no name for.  Either way I'm intrigued.

Facing the East with blue bluffs on the right.

Ah, the smell of stink bait as the man sporting a yellow cap and a heavy belly slowly meanders down to the to fishing pier.  My daughter, celebrating her 42nd birthday, is down on the dock fishing this morning.  I've brought steaks for dinner tonight, but a fresh fish cooked on a grill would be such a treat.

Oh, my heavens,  a speeding boat with flashing red and blue lights, no siren, just raced by; I've never seen police on water.  I wonder with the massive increase in boaters, houseboats, and lake homes, and if the age of cell phones and immediate contact has created a place for law enforcement on the water's edge.  In my childhood on Grand Lake in the late 50's and 60's we sometimes felt like we owned a cove or river of water since we were the only boat out for the day.    I'm looking down to my right at the blue bluff area, retelling

50 years ago, we fished, slept, and swam from this old houseboat.

my husband of the time my parents and friends owned a houseboat that for a few years was docked near the cove to Blue Bluff.  Winds are shifting and cool chill hits me from behind.

A moment of sunshine through the clouds.

Two men in a fishing boat are drifting by, my husband thinks they're reading the sonar or radar looking for fish.  What happened to looking for shad, schools of fish, or old fishing holes?  Shaun and Katy are talking to the guys now.   I imagine the dialogue goes like this:  Men, "Catching anything over here?"  Shaun, "No but we've had a few nibbles.  You see anything out there?"  Men, "Yeah, looks like back there to your right might be a few fish."  Then Shaun casts his lines toward the open lake.  The clouds have calmed and darkened around us now, so what is coming in from my back or Southwest?

My nose sometimes sniffs like a dog, especially when rain is in the air.  I can smell the rains but the clouds are hiding behind us in the trees, and the lake view looks innocent.  Oops!

Twenty four hours later:  Without thunder or strong winds to warn us, rain drops hit my back yesterday.  I closed the computer, cradling it in my arms like a baby or a small grand dog; I ran between heavy rain drops with Lucy and Jack running alongside.  Katy and Shaun with their two dogs, threw their fishing gear together and hurriedly climbed the stairs and ran back to the cabin.  A cool wet day sent us all off in different directions.

My Miami High  School class of 1965 met here at Lee's for a 50th reunion planning meeting,

Jack scouted out the area casinos, and Katy and Shaun drove around the Horse Creek area reflecting on her childhood  memories of swimming and fishing on Grand Lake.  There was no fish for dinner, but the steaks and grilled fresh veggies were juicy and delicious.  A small sliver of Yoder Chocolate Cream pie  topped off the night, until the moon came out and our young fisherman, Katy and Shaun, determined to catch a fish on her birthday headed back down to the docks.   After hours of football and an OU win, Jack and I made our way to the docks to sit  and watch our fishermen in action.  With our senses scanning the air and water for a calming memory, we reflected on a great day.  Happy Birthday Katy.

A new day:  sunshine on our faces and a cool fall breeze on our backs.