It's late, but I finally found wild asparagus this week.
The good news is that I actually found two new patches of wild asparagus, near the area where I found a patch last June.
The bad news all the asparagus I found was branched out and, despite much searching in the area of the woody, branched out asparagus, I could not find any eating shoots. Even after I enlisted my eagle-eyed kids.
But I have the new spots on my internal GPS.
As a matter that matters in Chicago outdoors, finding wild asparagus is pretty far down the list. All the same, I am sort of proud of myself. I have been looking for a month.
The true bad news is that I don't get to eat any of the fresh wild asparagus.
Steamed, salted and buttered. Goodness.
In cases like this, it's always worth recalling that life is a marathon, not a race. That patch may yield succulence for years to come.
True enough. The only problem is the really good spot I found nearby the two new spots did not produced a stalk this year that I could find. But I feel much more confidence heading into next year knowing I have three spots to keep an eye on. And one of the new ones stretches for a good bit, so it gives me much hope.