Wild bergamot weeds sing citrus-speak in spring by the cool, cool water of Great Lake Superior.
I was walking upstream in wellies in a brook somewhere up north. Cold water rushed from the lake downstream through the woods. I came across little island worlds in the brook—pristine, covered in plants fed by fresh water. Gnarled roots of trees intertwined with rocks and mosses to create a landscape like the those enticing commercials for action figures in the 80s (but I digress).
A stand of wild plants grew in spots where the sun broke through the canopy.
I found wild bergamot—bee balm—the stuff called Oswego tea that the tea partiers (the OG ones not the current) drank in defiance of Britain’s tea. A member of the mint fam, bee balm smells of distant bergamots with a fuzzy green minty snap.
You are in the cold north but smell distant Mediterranean citrus. Unexpected exotic beauty in the far North by Lake Superior.-D.S.