It may seem silly but sometimes a simple thing like the morning dew can get a person raptured in thoughts of nostalgia.
Since dew is a constant aspect of nature — also the primary focus of Angelkeep Journals — it seems quite fitting for some research results from past publication lead the way of a column focusing on dew. Angelkeep begins by giving Webster and his dictionary its due, pun intended.
Dew can be correctly pronounced “dü” or “dyü.” The definition by Webster, conforming to most dictionaries, primarily comes from the meteorology purpose for dew. It is the moisture condensed upon the surfaces of cool bodies, especially at night.
Angelkeep, desiring to be nonpolitical, and wishing to offer alternate points of view on dew, also ran across a seriously written, but somewhat suspect, use of the word as published by one of the forerunners of News-Banner, namely Bluffton Chronicle, on November 6, 1901.
“A school boy was asked the other day to give the formation of dew, and here is his answer; ‘The earth revolves on its axis every twenty-four hours, and in consequence of its tremendous speed at which it travels, perspires freely, causing dew.’”
It was the final paragraph at the bottom of the final column on the final page for that Wednesday edition. The intent was likely to leave the readers laughing, but in reality the school boy’s confusion turned into a joke, held much truth.
To give the school lad his due, a return to Webster’s dew definitions confirms the perspiration properties of dew. As a third definition option, Webster duly notes that moisture, especially when appearing in minute droplets such as tears or sweat, can be referred to as dew. At this point the study of dew for Angelkeep hit a goldmine with a botanical dew def. Do you know that dew can be droplets of water produced by a plant? It’s scientifically known as transpiration, not perspiration.
Angelkeep is proud to pass on the nature knowledge that plants can actually be involved in the passage of watery vapor through membrane or pores of the plant, the result much like the sweating a human does pulling all those transpiring weeds in the Angelkeep veggie beds on a warm June afternoon.
Angelkeep readers are due the duce (second) definition of Webster. “Something resembling dew in purity, freshness, or power to refresh” is followed by an example written by William Shadespeare, “…the golden dew of sleep…” Angelkeep often enjoys a bit of a blissful golden dew of nodding off in the patio rocking chair after a round of weed wrangling among the Angelkeep tomato plants, who in their turn are transpiring in the hot June sun. They do not know what’s due them when July hits.
A barefoot walk in the morning across the lawn provides a sensual experience with dew. Ideally, pick a morning after a clear night. That’s when exposed surfaces tend to lose heat by radiation turning them into objects cooler than the air itself. It does rely on a bit of humidity, well known in Indiana, because the cool surface cools the nearby air, and due to the ample humidity, the water vapor cools below its dew point onto the surfaces. This provides barefoot dew walkers a morning of bliss, nearly equal to a barefoot sunrise stroll on a deserted ocean beach.
Dew worms were first designated as such in 1599. Fishermen know them as night crawlers, and they do love the dew. Dew worms can be gathered as they stretch across the lawn at night basking in their own barefoot dew stroll.
Of course this knowledge leads Angelkeep to wonder about the origin and/or contents of Mountain Dew. When a can of Dew sweats, is it perspiring, transpiring, or moonshine-like distilling? The musical group Mountain Dew Boys, from days of yore, cause more pauses of pondering. Did Angelkeep readers know that mountain dew, when not capitalized, is a common name for moonshine, white lightning, bootleg brew, or that dew of the hills?
DEW fully capitalized refers to the Distant Early Warning system, a cold war DEW Line of radar stations of 1954 construction. Ah, the 1950s when this Angelkeep writer would stroll barefoot through the barnyard dew toward the tree-hung rope swing eating an egg sandwich slathered with tartar sauce without a June care in the world. ‘Tis true, that’s what transpired.
Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their backyard and have named it “Angelkeep.”
