In the Woods

weeds, benches, catkins

2.21.26 ~ Bolin Creek Trail
Jim’s Community Bench

The bench features red poppies, which were [Jim] Huegerich’s favorite flowers. The flowers, bench, and tubing have a “whisper” function: people sitting on the bench can whisper into one flower and listen on the other as the piping carries the sound. The bench was created by nationally known sculptor Jim Gallucci, based on input from the Huegerich family.
~ Triangle Blog Blog

Although I have been diligent about walking on my treadmill, due to weather and plans cancelled by winter illnesses, I had not walked outside in over a month! It rained Saturday morning and things didn’t look too hopeful for a weekend walk. But, the weather app promised a dry time slot at 2 pm and my friend Susan was willing to take advantage of it with me. The sun even came out!

I suggested Bolin Creek Trail, a paved greenway, so we didn’t have to get our shoes muddy. Paved trails might be a good idea in the summer, too, as a strategy for avoiding seed ticks. Maybe. We found lots of pretty little weeds along the way, passed by lots of other people enjoying the day, and saw lots of art work painted on concrete pipes and bridge underpasses.

Joe Herzenberg (1941-2007) Memorial Bench, 2018
by Mike Waller & Leah Foushee Waller
(bronze, concrete, aluminum)

Joe Herzenberg was a long-time resident of Chapel Hill and a historian. He served on the Chapel Hill Town Council from 1979-1981 and 1987-1993. After leaving the council, he continued to advocate for environmental preservation as chair of the town’s Greenways Commission and the Merritt’s Pasture Committee. Joe was also a champion for civil liberties. He was the founder and a decade-long board member of Equality NC PAC.

In spite of the gentle, dreary rains we’ve been getting lately after the snow and ice storms, we are still in a severe draught. The weeds seem to be all right, though, but Bolin Creek isn’t very full.

smooth alder catkins
(these shrubs like to grow along creek banks)

Alder Catkins
Male Catkins: Long, slender, and dangling (pendulous), these are initially reddish but turn yellow as they mature, reaching 2–10 cm in length. They produce large amounts of pollen, which is wind-dispersed.
Female Catkins: Smaller and initially reddish-purple, these are located on the same twigs as the male catkins. After pollination, they mature into woody, dark brown or black, cone-like structures that persist on the tree through the winter.
~ AI

There remains a hole in my world, a hole that my being futilely tries to fill in with memory flashes and pangs of heartache. Tim & I started to follow this trail the first year we moved down here, but we didn’t get as far along it as Susan and I did this day. Walking on the smooth pavement was too painful for him and thereafter we focused on trails with uneven terrain. It felt a little strange going past the point where Tim & I had turned around. At the time I was disappointed that we couldn’t continue down the path. Now I could. Part of me didn’t want to go on without him. Maybe all of me. Nevertheless, I did enjoy myself, even without him. It’s weird how both things can be true.

freedom within

“Portrait of a Little Girl” by Jahn Ekenæs

They shut me up in Prose —
As when a little Girl
They put me in the Closet —
Because they liked me “still” —

Still! Could themself have peeped —
And seen my Brain — go round —
They might as wise have lodged a Bird
For Treason — in the Pound —

Himself has but to will
And easy as a Star
Look down opon Captivity —
And laugh — No more have I —

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #445)

what bird did you see

My dear sister-in-law, Fran, and I attended a Dar Williams concert on Tuesday, February 10, at the A. J. Fletcher Opera Theater, in Raleigh, with Seth Glier opening. We had such a great time listening to her wonderful story-telling melodies. The little anecdotes she shared between songs were very amusing and heartwarming.

The words to one tune in particular, from her new Hummingbird Highway album, resonated with me deeply, especially at this time in my life:

In the parking lot the dark becomes two panes of light
There’s a charcoal slash of ocean and a smoky plank of sky
Now they’re changing colors
Laurel green with alabaster,
Agate blue with snowy aster.
And as the blues are brightening and the cars are coming in,
You see a seagull weave a path upon the wind,
Like a thread that can begin and then begin
While the world just goes about its day
As the ground beneath you falls away
In this time when there’s no time, there is no place to be,
What bird did you see?

You think a goldfinch is enchanting and you know you told her,
Now a goldfinch lands above you like it’s on your shoulder,
Yesterday you saw a red-tailed hawk
Around a corner proud and still
Out of place, a sentinel.
And at the window when sparrows flew away,
A single cardinal seemed to know he had to stay,
He had to be the bright vermillion in the gray,
While the world just goes about its day
As the ground beneath you falls away
In the presence of this absence, was there one bright flash, a simple song, a revery
What bird did you see?

And You will feel the summer sun and autumn rays,
You will return to busy friends and busy days but now,
In this time between the here and the hereafter there’s a feather at your door,
Love will find its way,
In the very life you have today,
You’ll go back to what you understand,
Maybe unbelieve
But tell me now, what bird did you see?
It’s okay to know it’s me.

~ Dar Williams
♫ (What Bird Did You See) ♫

violete

Within my reach!
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft sauntered thro’ the village —
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected Violets
Within the meadows go —
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago!
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #69)

at the suet feeder, after the snowstorm

On the last day of January a snowstorm arrived in North Carolina, covering every one of its 100 counties with snow. We got about four inches and I had evacuated my place to get snowed in with my daughter and her family. The next day I put on my boots for the first time down south here, and walked across the yard to Sally’s for a brief visit. We had a lovely time there birdwatching outside her windows. We saw a couple of kinds of birds I hadn’t seen in quite a while, along with the regular backyard birds.

(female) purple finch, with an atypical yellow throat

A female Purple Finch with a yellow throat is an uncommon, atypical color variation of the species, often described as having a pale, yellow-tinged patch on the throat, breast, or rump instead of the usual white and brown, likely due to plumage, diet, or developmental factors. These sightings are rare compared to the common white-eyebrowed, heavily streaked brown plumage of typical females.
~ AI

Following the ice storm of the previous weekend, this is the first snowfall, since I moved down here, that has been more than a dusting or a coating of ice. When Larisa drove me home two days later the roads were passable but still dicey in spots. It’s been so cold, with many nights dipping into the teens. It feels like New England and I can’t say I’m happy about that. If I have to live down south I want it to go back to its normally mild winter temperatures!

within the grip of winter

Within the grip of winter, it is almost impossible to imagine the spring. The gray perished landscape is shorn of color. Only bleakness meets the eye; everything seems severe and edged. Winter is the oldest season; it has some quality of the absolute. Yet beneath the surface of winter, the miracle of spring is already in preparation; the cold is relenting; seeds are wakening up. Colors are beginning to imagine how they will return. Then, imperceptibly, somewhere one bud opens and the symphony of renewal is no longer reversible. From the black heart of winter a miraculous, breathing plenitude of color emerges.
~ John O’Donohue
(To Bless the Space Between Us)

Groundhog Day was one of our favorite holidays. We had a tradition of taking our groundhog stuffy outside to see (or to not see) his shadow. We named him Basil (Wasyl) after my grandfather, who was born in Ukraine on February 2, 1882. By 2014 Basil had a companion, who was at first named Basil, Jr. At some point Tim, with his endless sense of humor, started calling the little one Oregano, and it stuck.

I cannot bear to continue this tradition without my beloved. So I decided to dig up some of the pictures I took of it over the years, in memory of Tim. I am definitely within the grip of winter, the one outside and a winter of grief. I still can’t imagine how a future without him will ever feel like spring.

Tim, Oregano & Basil bird-watching together (2025, Bolin Forest)
this turned out to be our last Groundhog Day together

definite shadows (2024, North Carolina Botanical Garden)

Tim waiting for the parade to begin with Basil & Oregano
(2023, Essex Ed Groundhog Day Parade)

fun in the snow (2022, Haley Farm State Park)

2.2.14 ~ Essex, Connecticut — Tim waiting with the Basils
(2014, Essex Ed Groundhog Day Parade)

Basil, Oregano and I will stay inside and light a candle this year.

apricity

“Brook in Winter” by Edwin Ambrose Webster

What fire could ever equal the sunshine of a winter’s day, when the meadow mice come out by the wall-sides, and the chickadee lisps in the defiles of the wood? The warmth comes directly from the sun, and is not radiated from the earth, as in summer; and when we feel his beams on our backs as we are treading some snowy dell, we are grateful as for a special kindness, and bless the sun which has followed us into that by-place.
~ Henry David Thoreau
(A Winter Walk)

winter walk to elephant rock

Dima called out from behind me as we walked along Elephant Rock Trail. “Look up! Directly above you!” A beautiful red-shouldered hawk was observing us from a fallen tree suspended above the trail. We noticed it had one talon curled up close to its belly. It was a pretty cold day in spite of abundant sunshine so it was probably trying to keep warm.

It had been over two years since Tim & I took this long, hilly, walk out to Elephant Rock by Morgan Creek. This time Dima, Larisa and Katie joined me. (Finn was at camp.) It looked a little different out there without leaves on all the trees.

looking down to Elephant Rock, Morgan Creek, and my family from the trail

father and daughter decide the climb up to the elephant’s head

After conquering the rock they couldn’t resist the challenge of crossing the creek on a fallen tree trunk. They kept testing their balances while standing, but finally decided to sit and scooch over bit by bit.

Larisa and I started heading back down the trail while Dima and Katie came back over the creek and then caught up with us. Watching them cross the creek the one time was more than enough excitement for me!

by the lake

1.12.26 ~ Jordan Lake State Recreation Area
(Ebenezer Church Day-Use Area)
Apex, North Carolina

On a cold January day Sally drove me out to explore one of her favorite birding spots. When we got to Jordan Lake the first thing I saw was a solitary great blue heron. It didn’t seem to be fishing or doing anything in particular, so I took lots of photos before it finally decided to slowly saunter away.

Jordan Lake is a 13,940-acre man-made reservoir with 180 miles of shoreline. The Piedmont here in North Carolina has no natural lakes. There are plenty of rivers and creeks, though, and a few temporary, very small, beaver ponds.

There were some gulls flying around way out in the middle of the lake, and the one above bobbing along the ripples. Too far away to identify. But, much to my delight, when my eyes came back to the shoreline, they landed on a killdeer! Like the heron, it didn’t seem to be occupied doing anything. I finally stopped waiting for it to do something and continued walking along the shore.

late afternoon winter sunlight across the lake

Sally pointed out a clump of greenery way up in a bare branched tree. My guess was mistletoe and it turns out it was indeed American mistletoe. I had no idea there are 1500 species of mistletoe.

Way up in another tree a goldfinch was singing from its perch. A little too far up for my camera, even with the zoom.

After our long walk along the lakeshore we took a mile-long loop trail into the woods, hoping to see ducks in the ponds, but we were out of luck on that idea.

It was nice being around so much water even though it’s not quite the same as the seashore’s salt water and air, which I still miss! And I didn’t realize that some killdeer do live their entire lives far inland, thousands of miles from the ocean. Always more to learn…