11.27.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden northern mockingbird
November ends. I come across a poem by my favorite poet — she describes the sense of loss and disconnect I had been feeling all month.
She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at last And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a Knell For either Duke or Robin ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1535)
I’m grateful for and encouraged by nature, poetry and my books, and family and friends, as I imagine most of us are. This squirrel came up to me on our last visit to the botanical garden, as if to say, “I’m here, too.”
The poorest experience is rich enough for all the purposes of expressing thought. Why covet a knowledge of new facts? Day and night, house and garden, a few books, a few actions, serve us as well as would all trades and all spectacles. We are far from having exhausted the significance of the symbols we use. We can come to use them yet with a terrible simplicity. It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (The Poet)
hemlock cones
looking up
mountain witch-alder
spotted cucumber beetle on a New England aster
sweet-gum
simple healing in watching a mourning dove feed on the forest floor ~ Barbara Rodgers (In the Woods)
10.18.24 ~ Pritchard Park Chapel Hill, North Carolina
There’s hardly a spot of color on the hardwood trees in our yard, but the light is glorious, as it always is in October, and the signs of fall are unmistakable. ….. Always, when nature works as nature must, there are joys for every grief, a recompense for every sorrow. ….. Night falls earlier with each passing day now, but the recompense of shorter days is the glorious light of October. I wish you could see what happens to the magnificent colors of berry and bird and flower in the slanting light of October. ~ Margaret Renkl (The New York Times, October 14, 2024, “Growing Darkness, October Light: A Backyard Census”)
These pictures were taken on Friday morning, the day we stood in line at the Chapel Hill Public Library to vote. Afterwards we took a walk on the trails in the woods surrounding the library. North Carolina has early voting, something new to us. Before we left Connecticut we had voted in favor of bringing early voting to our old state. I wonder if it passed. Our habit was to get up early on election day and get to the polling place before it opened. We were always near first in line.
Something new for the citizens of NC is having to show a photo ID when they check in to vote. We always had to do that back in CT. It’s so interesting getting to know the different ways the governments of different states run things, something I never thought about before, having lived in only one state my whole life.
As I stood in line I reflected on how encouraging it was to learn that our 39th President, Jimmy Carter, made the effort to vote while in hospice care at the age of 100. He was the first president I ever voted for. My thoughts also returned to the sacrifice so many of our ancestors made for us in the Revolutionary War, so that we could have the right to vote today. As the granddaughter of Ukrainian immigrants on one side and the descendant of several Mayflower passengers on the other, my complex place in American history has always fascinated me. While appreciating the myriads of reasons Europeans have crossed the Atlantic over the centuries to make better lives for themselves here, I also feel deep regret for the harm they have caused to the original people who lived, and still live here.
When we moved down here I started looking for southern nature writers who might help me get acquainted with my new environment. I’ve become a big fan of Margaret Renkl, who lives in Tennessee at the same southern latitude as we do. Her lyrical writings resonate with the seasonal observations I’m experiencing here. I’ve read three of her books, checked out from the same beautiful library where we voted, and enjoy her occasional editorials in the New York Times.
I tried to capture some of the slanting light of October to match Renkl’s words. This is our second autumn down south and the way it is unfolding feels much more familiar now, it’s starting to feel more like home.
sculpure at Chapel Hill Public Library parking lot
At the Autumn Equinox, as with the spring, we take this moment of equal day and night to focus on a point of balance. In the mellowness of early autumn, we can quietly observe this brief stillness. There is a certain relief in letting go of the hectic growth of summer. With the slowing that autumn brings comes a certain restfulness and acceptance. ~ Maria Ede-Weaving (The Essential Book of Druidry: Connect with the Spirit of Nature)
On this botanical garden visit we were totally captivated by a new life bird. We couldn’t get over how tiny it was! How could any songbird possibly be smaller than a chickadee? I couldn’t stop taking pictures.
Ruby-crowned Kinglet, #88
A tiny bird seemingly overflowing with energy, the Ruby-crowned Kinglet forages almost frantically through lower branches of shrubs and trees. Its habit of constantly flicking its wings is a key identification clue. Smaller than a warbler or chickadee, this plain green-gray bird has a white eye ring and a white bar on the wing. Alas, the male’s brilliant ruby crown patch usually stays hidden—your best chance to see it is to find an excited male singing in spring or summer. ~ All About Birds website
Of course there were other things to notice on that beautifully sunny day.
the frog egg embryos are looking more and more like tadpoles
snails presumably climbing a rock (we didn’t actually see them move)
Alabama snow-wreath (rare)
eastern redbud
Nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, is but a succession of changes so gentle and easy, that we can scarcely mark their progress. ~ Charles Dickens (Nicholas Nickleby)
red-shouldered hawk (might be the same one we saw five days earlier)
‘finch’s golden’ deciduous holly
wild columbine (aka eastern red columbine)
We enjoyed seeing all the redbud trees, promising spring, with their vibrant blossoms appearing to accent the gray landscape well before any leaves come out. So many delightful changes are in the offing. It will be fun noticing as many of them as possible!
“Chestnut Trees, Louveciennes, Winter” by Camille Pissarro
This is the season of the long night and the leafless tree. The cold seeps into our bones and life sleeps beneath the soil. ….. We know that the worst of the winter is yet to come, and we must endure this, but the solstice sun is reborn and, with it, our hopes for growing light and warmth. In the depths of winter, summer plants its seed and the dark stillness explodes with starlight. ~ Maria Ede-Weaving (The Essential Book of Druidry: Connect with the Spirit of Nature)
..we take another walk 8.2.23 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
When I woke up yesterday morning the dew point was only 61°F and the temperature was only 65°F (18°C)! Surprise! I couldn’t believe my eyes!! Perfect walking weather. Where on earth did it come from? Canada, the TV meteorologist informed, and it wasn’t going to stick around. So off we went, determined to make the most of a seemingly rare opportunity.
In the rush to get out the door I was so focused on not forgetting my hat that I forgot my camera! (How was that even possible???) So I made do with my cell phone’s camera, which I found very awkward to manipulate, especially since I couldn’t hang it around my neck with a strap and have my hands free whenever I wanted them. But it didn’t matter — I was OUTSIDE and enjoying every precious minute.
The flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day. The light, creation’s mind, was everywhere, and all things owned its power. ~ Charles Dickens (The Old Curiosity Shop)
I couldn’t find identification tags for many of the flowers and plants we saw, but some of the ones I matched up had very curious names.
American bladdernut
yellow pitcher plant (carnivorous)
I found this specimen of eastern hemlock, my childhood spirit tree, in the Mountain Habitat section of the gardens. Looking at a range map I see they do grow in the mountains of North Carolina, but not naturally here in the Piedmont region. It seemed scraggly but trying its best to grow in this locale. Notice the tiny new green cones growing above the brown ones.
♡ eastern hemlock ♡
plumleaf azalea
eastern tiger swallowtail
stokes’ aster
this large patch of oregano smelled yummy
It was such a refreshing morning saunter. And the low humidity stuck around for our afternoon visit to the farmers market, adding another pleasant outing to our day. Last week, when we went to the market for the first time on Wednesday, it was in the 90s and very humid. Two days later, when we picked Katie up on Friday, her last day of camp, it was 95°F (35°C) with a heat index of 105°F (41°C)!
Contained in this short Life Are magical extents The soul returning soft at night To steal securer thence As Children strictest kept Turn soonest to the sea Whose nameless Fathoms slink away Beside infinity ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1175)
Paradoxically, life is long and brief at the same time. The more we know, the more questions we have. At some point we come to accept that there will always be limits to what we know and that no matter how long we get to live so much will remain beyond our grasp. After many years of searching for something I couldn’t name, I am at peace with not knowing. Magic is everywhere, as all children know, and science keeps almost-finding explanations for it.
This week our granddaughter is going to a Woodland Fairies & Elves day camp and we get to pick her up every afternoon and hear all about it. Recently this delightful little eight-year old, formerly known as Kat, changed her nickname to Katie, the one I began calling her when she was born. (Longtime readers of this blog will remember this.) But, when she was about 2 years old, we noticed her parents were calling her Katherine so we followed suit. A couple of years ago Katherine started calling herself Kat and now she has chosen to go with Katie.
Katie showing us the location of a future fairy amusement park right next to her fairy house, featuring a fairy landing pad near the front of the stump
At camp the children got to choose a moniker, too, so when we go to pick her up, “Snail” is called on a walkie-talkie to come to the pavilion to collect her belongings and then Katie/Snail shows us around the fairy village the kids are creating. Katie was very excited about an exoskeleton she had found and incorporated into her fairy house design. In my clumsy attempt to get a picture of it I accidently knocked over one of the little structures! But my granddaughter was very gracious and reassured me that no harm was done as she carefully reassembled it. Phew!
heading for the garden gate to look inside for fairy cucumbers
One day we got a tour of the garden where Katie picked a fairy cucumber for us. It took her a while to find one because most of them had already been harvested. That day a counselor had brought in homemade fairy pickles for the campers to enjoy.
tiny fairy cucumber aka cucamelon (thanks to Katie for the identification)
We’ve been so busy that keeping up with blogging has proven almost impossible. I am happy to report that we now have North Carolina drivers licenses and the car is registered with a NC plate. There are still things left to take care of on the “to-do” list but I am hoping by the time the hot weather relents we will have settled enough to get outside for our nature walks once again. Even the small amount of time we spend outside picking Katie up is very taxing for Tim. One day the “feels like” temperature was 98°F. Tomorrow the forecasters are calling for the hottest day of the year so far…
On this twenty-first of June, the hinge day of the seasons, the yearly tide of light reaches its flood. Tomorrow, it will begin the long rollback to the dark days of December. … And so this longest day in the year comes to an end with silver mist and low-lying land and the smell of the sea. Twilight here is doubly impressive for we are face to face with twin mysteries — the mystery of the sea and the mystery of the night. We, as diurnal creatures of the land, are looking into foreign realms, into worlds other than our own, into the mysterious dark and the mysterious depths. ~ Edwin Way Teale (Circle of the Seasons: The Journal of a Naturalist’s Year)
4.26.23 ~ Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center mama goose still sitting on her rock island nest
hairy woodpecker
skunk cabbages are getting huge
swamp near the pond
more skunk cabbage
Many young leaves are dotting the trees now, spray and foliage both showing. The woods are quite green; the rapidity with which the leaves unfold between sunrise and sunset, or during the night, is truly wonderful! ~ Susan Fenimore Cooper (Rural Hours)
it’s feeling much more like spring, even it it is still chilly
red maple seeds
the essence of springtime
crabapple tree
We got our second covid bivalent booster on the 25th, recommended to those of us over 65. This will make me feel a little safer traveling to North Carolina and being around more people in the coming months. We had our first bivalent booster back in September. I wonder if we’ll be getting one every six months from now on…
