10.21.24 ~ Stone Knoll, Calvander, North Carolina a glimpse of part of it from the road
Located less than three miles from our home in Calvander is a sacred monument nestled beside a large field, created by a housing developer for nearby residents to use for contemplation and connecting to nature. It was built 30 years ago, and even though it is on private property, belonging to a homeowner’s association, respectful visitors are welcome.
The reason people compare Stone Knoll to Stonehenge is because the spacious outdoor monument — like the one in England — is composed of giant boulders and stone slabs that spark curiosity about how they got there and what their significance is. At Stone Knoll, the stones are arranged in a spiraling pattern that is, by design, soothingly mesmerizing. Large, monolithic slabs mark the four compass points — north, south, east, and west — each adorned with animal footprints and thought-provoking poems by the likes of Maya Angelou and Carl Sandburg. ~ Jimmy Tomlin (Our State: Celebrating North Carolina, November 2024, “Sacred Respite”)
South ~ Coyote ~ Noontime
the waning gibbous moon was not to be overlooked
East ~ Eagle ~ Sunrise
the center of the spiral
The stones closer to the center of the spiral were progressively smaller and more closely spaced than the stones father out from the center. I climbed up the step seen on the center rock (above) in order to get the picture of the flat plaque in the picture below.
the words were difficult to make out
North ~ White Buffalo ~ Old Age
the adjacent field was full of these grasses, making for a purple haze effect
pretty grasses and orbs
West ~ Bear ~ Sunset
this was my favorite poem
a peaceful setting
We had the place to ourselves and appreciated very much the quiet moments spent there.
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
October Skies Aster 10.8.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden 36th Annual Sculpture in the Garden
For this year’s Walktober post I decided to walk through the outdoor sculpture exhibit at the botanical garden. I’ve been wary about returning to my favorite garden after enduring three episodes of seed tick bites after walks there this summer, but this time I sprayed permethrin on my shoes and pants, crossed my fingers, and hoped for the best.
part of “Elegant Dance” by Holly Felice
part of “Elegant Dance” by Holly Felice
There were 86 sculptures by 66 local artists to see and we found all of them. My favorites are included in this post. Enjoy!
“Guardian Frog” by Sue Estelle-Freeman
“Baba Yaga” by Jenny Marsh
“Ellie in the Flower Garden” by Helen Seebold
“Athena” by Tinka Jordy
“American Bullfrog” by Mac McCusker
“Emergence” by Sam Spiczka
“Lonesome George” by TJ Christiansen
“Tranquil Ocean” by Greg Goodall
“Urban Forager” by Anna Schroeder
“Kasike” by Nana Abreu
“Emerging Star-Nosed Mole” by Courtney Cappa
“Enchanted White Barn Owl” by Amy Jo Gelber
“Gift from the Ground” by Laura Harris For millennia, humankind has dug clay from the earth and used it to produce both functional and decorative ceramic pieces. This totem represents all aspects of that ageless process. The clay used was dug in North Carolina and fired in a raging ‘pit fire’ bonfire in Chatham County, NC. The colors are representative of the colors of North Carolina soil and the totem is a tribute to the ceramic heritage of our state. ~ Laura Harris
Black-eyed Susan
I voted for Urban Forager to win the People’s Choice Award. The winner will be announced after November 21. Something playful and endearing about a raccoon enjoying a fish sandwich!
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!
mama deer and her fawn
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.
Piedmont Wildlife Center barred owl
red-shouldered or red-tailed (?) hawk
Katherine showed a lot of interest in the raptors and Finn was enchanted with the turtles.
box turtle
another box turtle
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.
Pumpkin on her running wheel
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.
Finn roasted a marshmallow for me, too
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.
a small painted rock along our path
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.
Counting one’s blessings has a particular poignancy at this festival because, as we mark the longest day, we are reminded that from this point the year will begin to wane and the days will gradually shorten. Transience is a reality for all of us and so we learn that our capacity for joy and happiness — like an inner sun — must radiate from within. It’s worth taking a moment to ponder the mystery that at the height of summer winter plants its own seed. ~ Maria Ede-Weaving (The Essential Book of Druidry: Connect with the Spirit of Nature)
5.31.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden common yarrow
May ended on a very pleasant note, with lots of sunshine, mild temperatures and no humidity! Since we knew these conditions wouldn’t last we went out for a walk, in spite of us both being sick with colds. Who knows when such perfect weather will come around again?
bronze fennel
And of course, it being ten days since our last walk, different things were blooming. It’s never the same garden twice.
golden tickseed
bee visiting English lavender
purple coneflower
When I watched the sun rise this morning, due east, I felt that the universe, the solar system, the earth, the year, the season, the day, were still in order, no matter what stupidities man might achieve today. It is good to know such things about the place you live. It is good to know that there are certainties. ~ Hal Borland (Hal Borland’s Book of Days)
hemlock cones
woodland pinkroot
crow poison (poisonous to humans and animals)
common sanddragon dragonfly
phlox
The single greatest lesson the garden teaches is that our relationship to the planet need not be zero-sum, and that as long as the sun still shines and people still can plan and plant, think and do, we can, if we bother to try, find ways to provide for ourselves without diminishing the world. ~ Michael Pollan (Food, Inc.)
5.21.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden sun-drenched female northern cardinal
It was a borderline-humidity morning, between comfy and muggy, and Tim was still coughing from the cold he caught in Italy, but we decided to chance a walk anyway. This is the time of year when the sun feels too bright and my camera sometimes responded by turning the blurry bokeh effect into solid black.
pipevine swallowtail butterfly
We forgot the bug repellent and I came home with two mosquito bites, one on each forearm. But the pretty (and non-biting) insects were out enjoying the sunshine, too! I’m not 100% sure of all my identifications here, but I’m giving them my best guess. Some of the butterflies, dragonflies and damselflies seemed new to me.
fire pink
common whitetail dragonfly
oakleaf hydrangea
dusky dancer damselfly on hemlock needles
Summer, for the cold-blooded, represents the Elysian days. Warmth brings life and animation. Their blood responds, literally, to every rise and fall of the mercury. Chill is synonymous with sluggishness, cold with immobility. The sun directly regulates the intensity with which they live. ~ Edwin Way Teale (Grasshopper Road)
white waterlily
ebony jewelwing (aka black-winged damselfly)
grass pink orchid
mating silver-spotted skipper butterflies
tulip prickly pear
variable dancer damselfly
stokes’ aster
chamomile
downy wood mint
Coastal Plain Habitat boardwalk in May
Even though it isn’t technically summer here yet, either meteorologically or astronomically, it can now be called summer for all intents and purposes!
Six months ago, in the autumn, we visited this gorgeous nature preserve for the first time. It turned out to be equally enchanting in the springtime. It was so green! We started at the other end of Robin’s Trail. It was cold out, however. After days in the 80s on this morning I was back in my winter coat and wore my gloves the whole time.
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by ~ William Blake (Laughing Song)
lots and lots of beech leaves
wild sage
New Hope Creek
Nature is ever at work building and pulling down, creating and destroying, keeping everything whirling and flowing, allowing no rest but in rhythmical motion, chasing everything in endless song out of one beautiful form into another. ~ John Muir (The Wilderness Essays)
sunlit ripples in the creek
wildflowers and orbs at the forest’s edge
zephyr lily
As it was last time we visited, a very pleasant spring morning ramble along the creek and in the woods. 🍃
4.8.24 ~ Sandhills Horticultural Gardens Pinehurst, North Carolina
By coincidence, exactly six years ago on this day, my sister-in-law and I visited this lovely horticultural garden near her home. (spring blossoms) We had a great time exploring it again. It was quite different than my local botanical garden. There were lots of huge, vividly colored rhododendrons, azaleas and camellias, and very few identification signs.
We found these in the Hackley Woodland Garden:
a busy bee
We walked the boardwalk in the Desmond Native Wetland Trail, a little nature conservancy and bird sanctuary. It was filled with birdsong and lots of new greenery. Looking up for birds I spotted the only thing blooming in there, a wild azalea. So delicate and pretty:
wild azalea
The Margaret H. Ambrose Japanese Garden was calm and peaceful. We paused a lot, reflecting…
And we finally took a quick peek at the formal Sir Walter Raleigh Garden:
It’s interesting how each garden had a very different mood to it. There were ten other gardens there we didn’t have time to see. I think a lot about the differences between preserved natural land conservancies and cultivated gardens. Each have their value and place in the world.
In the afternoon the four of us took Dan & Fran’s dog Biscuit for a walk in their neighborhood and enjoyed watching the solar eclipse with our special eclipse glasses. They seemed pretty flimsy but worked very well. I had also obtained a special filter for the camera lens. Tim had to hold it in front of the lens while I tried to find the sun without getting it in my eyes. When I fiddled with the zoom it would get fuzzy and we didn’t have a lot of time to figure out what worked best! It was very awkward but we managed to get a few shots.
near the beginning
I almost forgot to check the ground for crescent shadows…
crescent shadows
at or near the 78% peak we got in our area
We went back to the house to enjoy a meal and then I took one last peek outside to see the last of the eclipse from the porch. The moon was near the top of the sun and some long leaf pine needles way up in the trees got into the picture, too.
