Tim – Page 6 – In the Woods

in the middle of things

It has been a difficult couple of weeks dealing with the side effects of vaccinations and an unwelcome osteoporosis diagnosis but we finally got out to enjoy some pleasant weather and a walk in the woods. We returned to Cedar Falls park to take a different trail and see if we could find a waterfall mentioned on a website. I think we heard the waterfall but could not see it from the path. The foliage was pretty dense and the terrain very steep so we didn’t dare go off-trail.

To pay close attention to the natural world is to exist in medias res. Life is an unfolding that responds to the cues of seasonal change, but for our purposes it is also suspended in an everlasting present. We can see some of the creatures we share our world with, or at least some evidence of their nearness, but we cannot know the full arc of their story. Every encounter in the outdoors is an episode with a cliffhanger ending.
~ Margaret Renkl
(The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year)

We definitely share our world with the squirrels and crows we saw and heard, and there was plenty of evidence of other creatures nearby, including deer scat deposited on the trail and countless cobwebs clinging to twigs and branches. I had to smile when I noticed once again, it’s that time of year when Tim is still in shorts and I needed my sweatshirt. Not quite time to pull out my gloves, though.

some of that uneven terrain that works so well for Tim

It felt so good getting out into the woods again!

as summer becomes a memory

I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.
~ Georgia O’Keeffe
(Letter to Russell Vernon Hunter, October 21, 1933)

It’s been a curious summer. Very little went as planned. As many of my readers know, I’ve long been trying to go through all the family history items we inherited after our grandparents’ houses on Cape Cod were sold. Before we moved to North Carolina I went through and discarded many of the things from their attics and closets, but still wound up transporting 14 boxes of stuff down here. My goal for this summer was to take advantage of being stuck inside to go through the boxes and organize all of it by family lines into my special acid-free notebooks.

Well, I only got through 4 boxes and am in the middle of the 5th! Each box is 12″x14″x18″ and is crammed full of pictures and paperwork! I’m still throwing a lot of things away, but I’m going through every piece of paper with a fine-tooth comb and in doing so have found many treasures. Reading every letter, every deed, every will, every newspaper clipping, every vital record and naturalization certificate. My notebooks are filling up fast. I’ve added a few more of them to the shelves. The pictures are being set aside to be sorted out after the paperwork is done.

I feel like a curator, managing this huge collection. I feel like I’m ‘being myself again’ after all. These summer days have been so enjoyable and a labor of love. I’m looking forward to sharing more of the stories about our ancestors that I’ve discovered, but am determined for now not to stop until finished. So this will be a year-round project going forward. There’s no way I’m willing to wait until next summer to start in again!

some of the 14 boxes waiting in the corner

The pictures are going to be more difficult to deal with because, sadly, so many of them are unidentified. But the paperwork is fun to read. The above letter was written by a lawyer (?) to Tim’s 2nd-great-grandfather, Delorma Brown Hubbard, advising him about a search for a will in England. It was written in 1869.

The oldest piece of paper found so far was a hand-written ‘article of agreement’ between Tim’s 4th-great-grandfather and two of his sons, signed by him in 1837! It’s quite something to be holding a document that was in his ancestor’s hands 187 years ago.

I’m also in the process of taking my ancestor blog posts and turning them into stationary web pages. The growing list of pages can be found near the left bottom of my blog’s sidebar.

And so my work continues!

garden pictures, more seed tick misery

8.23.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
old man’s beard (?)

rattlesnake master
2016 NC Wildflower of the Year

white prairie goldenrod (*solidago ptarmicoides*) (endangered)
aka prairie aster, sneezewort aster, upland white aster, upland white goldenrod

under the trees

8.21.24 ~ eastern tiger swallowtail
Cedar Falls Park, Chapel Hill, North Carolina

We are all woodland people. Like trees, we hold a genetic memory of the past because trees are parents to the child deep within us. We feel that shared history come alive every time we step into the forest, where the majesty of nature calls to us in a voice beyond our imaginations. But even in those of us who haven’t encountered trees in months or even years, the connection to the natural world is there, waiting to be remembered.
~ Diana Beresford-Kroeger
(To Speak for the Trees: My Life’s Journey from Ancient Celtic Wisdom to a Healing Vision of the Forest)

At last! A day arrived with low humidity and a chance for a walk in the woods. Though I was tempted to visit the botanical garden I was drawn here to visit a new-to-us park we had discovered some time ago while out running errands in the heat. We found lots of interesting things growing under the trees in this lovely park.

Asiatic dayflower (beautiful but invasive)

The trees at Cedar Falls Park are typical of an upland forest in the Piedmont, with oak and hickory predominating and here and there a pine tree. Second growth trees with a brushy understory line both sides of the trails near the northern part of the park.
~ This Way to Nature website

sweetgum seedling
(thanks to Debbie for the identification)

upside down indigo milk cap with a tiny snail

They would worry about wearing me out, but I could also see that I was a reminder of all they feared: chance, uncertainty, loss, and the sharp edge of mortality. Those of us with illnesses are the holders of the silent fears of those with good health.
~ Elisabeth Tova Bailey
(The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating)

The march of human progress seemed mainly a matter of getting over that initial shock of being here.
~ Barbara Kingsolver
(Animal Dreams)

a puddle of water left in Cedar Fork Creek

Finding the snail moving across the blue mushroom and then the patch of partridge berries simply filled me with delight!

close to overflowing

Tim recorded 5½ inches in his rain gauge from Tropical Storm Debby. We never lost power and I think the storm had technically weakened to a tropical depression by the time it reached here. (We never got a tropical storm warning here either.) All the same, it was good to be safe inside and hunkered down for a day.

We heard reports of tornados and flooding elsewhere in nearby counties so we were lucky. Today we drove down to Bolin Creek Trail to get a good look at the creek and it was close to overflowing. The pictures taken there last September show what the creek looked like when the water was low and the stones were visible in the streambed. See here.

Today the sky is blue with white puffy clouds and the sun is bright and warm. We already have a feels like temperature of 90°F and tomorrow promises to be even warmer.

picking apples

Sometimes it hits me how much I miss celebrating the seasons of the year in New England. Strawberry picking in the field and beach sunsets for midsummer, apple picking in the orchard and visiting the old-fashioned cider mill at the autumn equinox, picking out a Christmas tree at the local tree farm before the solstice, visiting a sugar house and stocking up on maple syrup for the coming year on the spring equinox…

This year my daughter Larisa hosted a wonderful feast for Lughnasa/Lammas, complete with a loaf of challah bread in honor of the first harvest festival. Katherine read the poem I posted on my blog that morning before we started eating. Later, as we were finishing up one of the guests suggested we go apple picking from a neighborhood tree. I was startled and found myself blurting out for the second time this year, “I’m having trouble adjusting!” And then added, as if to explain to the puzzled group, “Apple-picking is for the autumn equinox!”

The first time I blurted that out was back in March, when everyone down here was busy picking strawberries. I had to explain then that to me, picking strawberries happens in June and means the summer solstice. To me. This is proving to be a most difficult adjustment for my brain.

For Lughnasa we used to visit Buttonwood Farm, walk through their huge sunflower field, go on a hayride and stand in a long line for ice cream made right there on the farm. This year, I joined my daughter and her guests for a short walk to a solitary little apple tree. I watched my grandchildren climb it and pick some apples. On the first day of August. (Sadly, I had left my camera at home, missing a great photo op…) My brain is still perplexed but hopefully some day I will find a way to adjust!

buggy, but pleasant

7.2.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
eastern tiger swallowtail

Yesterday was a great weather day! We took advantage of rare low humidity and temperature and scooted over to the botanical garden. There were many bugs out and about, doing their summer thing. I’m suffering from another batch of spider bites on my legs and I have no idea how they’re getting there. (I now know they’re spider bites because my reaction rash is so bad it drove me to a dermatologist. She was mystified and had a biopsy done on the rash to see what was causing it. I hope I won’t need another round of steroids!)

eastern cicada killer wasp on lamb’s ear leaves

I hope you enjoyed the glimpse into the buggy summer botanical garden. Creepy crawlies go hand in hand with pretty flowers. I’m biding my time until autumn arrives!

three quick pics

6.21.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
Coastal Plain Habitat boardwalk in June

It was too hot for a walk but I had to get my summer picture for Karma’s “same location for all 4 seasons” photo hunt. And my coastal plain habitat boardwalk picture for June. I darted into the botanical garden, got them, and then took two quick pics on my way back out.

These Fevered Days — to take them to the Forest
Where Waters cool around the mosses crawl —
And shade is all that devastates the stillness
Seems it sometimes this would be all —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1467)

a midsummer day

6.20.24 ~ solstice sunrise in Bolin Forest

Living in a heavily wooded neighborhood I only get a peek through the trees to catch a sunrise. It happened at 6:00 am on the summer solstice here. Hours later, for solar noon I took my flower fairy out to the moss garden for a little photo shoot. There was a small patch of sunlight available to highlight the very short shadow she was casting.

1:17 pm, solar noon
shortest shadow of the year!

As I was photographing the fairy, mama deer brought her fawn by to check out the scene. It was so hot outside!

In the evening, for some reason, the dew point dropped and even though it was still hot, it became much less humid. Midsummer magic? We packed up the grandchildren and headed to the Piedmont Wildlife Center. None of us had been there before and they were having a summer solstice celebration. What a great time we had! We got a closer look at some of the birds and turtles in rehab.

Katherine showed a lot of interest in the raptors and Finn was enchanted with the turtles.

We were all delighted with Pumpkin, a sweet little opossum. She’s full grown but only about a third of the size of an average adult. She had a rough start in life. The kids asked all kinds of questions, like, does she eat ants? The answer was not usually, unless they happened to be on something else she was eating, kind of like pepper or another seasoning. And opossums only eat the ticks that are in their fur when they’re grooming themselves.

We had a little walk through the woods and saw a few more birds and animals tucked inside their enclosures. Eventually we got to the solstice campfire where the kids could make their own s’mores. A man playing his guitar gently on the side added to the peaceful mood.

Katherine displaying one of her perfectly roasted marshmallows

After a while we were invited to participate in a little solstice ritual: writing on a piece of paper what we wished to let go of from the old year and what we wanted to welcome into the next year. Then we burned our papers in the campfire. It was a meaningful way to pause and take stock of our intentions. I noticed Katherine took it very seriously while Finn, being four years younger, was naturally interested in other things.

The plan was to go to Maple View Farm next, for ice cream and to view the sunset. But, we finished our ice cream (sorbet for me) an hour before the sun was due to set, so we called it a day and headed home. It was wonderful celebrating the summer solstice for the first time with our grandchildren.