This is what happens after spending hours and hours hunting for invasive European naiads (Najas minor) in the shallows on the lake ... on the drive back home, all the trees by the roadside start looking like enormous naiads to my exhausted mind! I thought I was losing my marbles, imagining I was driving along a pathway overhung with tree-like naiads, which in real life are currently about 6 inches tall. Oh my! "When trees become naiads" should be the title of my memoir, written from an asylum.
I need help! Maybe a break from naiad hunting is on the cards!
It's amazing how focused and tunnel-visioned one becomes when on the lookout for foreign marauders.
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