We found a lovely little walk around Anderson Pond in Carrboro’s largest town park. The fall colors were very pretty but I was disappointed to not see any waterbirds.
Trees don’t simply maintain the conditions necessary for human and most animal life on Earth; trees created those conditions through the community of forests. Trees paved the way for the human family. The debt we owe them is too big to ever repay. ~ Diana Beresford-Kroeger (To Speak for the Trees: My Life’s Journey from Ancient Celtic Wisdom to a Healing Vision of the Forest)
This is not our world with trees in it. It’s a world of trees, where humans have just arrived. ~ Richard Powers (The Overstory: A Novel)
Carrboro has been recognized as a Tree City USA for 39 years by the Arbor Day Foundation. It’s one of 3,577 tree cities found across the nation. Every time we leave the house I love seeing all the trees in our densely wooded neighborhoods. And I love looking out our windows and seeing almost nothing but leaves!
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.
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.
There were 86 sculptures by 66 local artists to see and we found all of them. My favorites are included in this post. Enjoy!
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!
One warm, humid, and lovely midday, we spent a couple of hours meandering around this botanical garden with our son-in-law’s parents, who were down here for the week of Katherine’s birthday. What an amazing time we all had! The last time I had visited Duke Gardens was in 2014, ten years ago, when Larisa & Dima were living in Durham.
There are 5 miles of pathways through this 55 acre garden so there was no way to see it all. We started with the historic curated terrace gardens. There were all kinds of bees visiting the many flowers still blooming.
Tim spotted the little lizard on a leaf and we all started jockeying to get a good picture of it. We couldn’t figure out what it had in its mouth and it seemed just as curious about what we were doing.
There was a large patch of wild petunias with bees going in and out of each blossom, acting as if there was no more pollen to be had. Apparently these are also a favorite of the hummingbirds, too.
After enjoying the view from the overlook we followed a path to the 18-acre Asiatic Arboretum.
This very beautiful Ruddy Shelduck from Asia is not native here and because its wings are clipped it cannot fly, which I find upsetting. I’m not going to count it as a life bird because in essence it is living in captivity.
And soon we found ourselves in the Kathleen Smith Moss Garden, which felt very cool and woodsy.
When we decided to head back to the parking lot we got a little lost but eventually found our way. I hope someday we will go back soon and see the Garden of Native Plants. In the days following our visit we got to go see Finn perform in his Taekwondo class, and the whole family went out for a sushi birthday dinner for Katherine.
This is the first post I’m writing from my new laptop. Whatever version of Windows I had on the old one will no longer be “supported,” whatever that means, so my computer wizard has been setting me up with my new friend here. So far, so good. He had to purchase an updated version of Adobe Photoshop but I have been adjusting to the changes quite well. My old laptop lasted me for over nine years. I hope that’s considered a good run.
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.
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.
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
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)
Finding the snail moving across the blue mushroom and then the patch of partridge berries simply filled me with delight!
The periodical (every 13 years) Great Southern Brood of cicadas are fascinating creatures and they are everywhere! Walking in the woods we found the one (above) sitting on a sign post. When inadvertently disturbed it flapped its wings and landed down on the leaf litter with its wings spread out.
Returning home, we noticed our dogwood tree was covered with the empty nymph cases, still clinging to the twigs and leaves.
We wondered about the noise they were supposed to be making, but in a few days we started hearing a faint buzz outside which got a little louder each day and soon could even be heard from inside the house. The buzzing is constant. To me, it sounds like a lawnmower in the distance, not at all like the jack hammer some folks were suggesting. But who knows? Maybe they haven’t reached their peak yet.
A few days later we stopped by the botanical garden to check out the American columbo and to take a May Day picture of the trees at my eight seasons spot. It was a very bright and sunny day and for some reason my camera decided to give me a black background for this sun-drenched iris.
Much to my delight the mountain laurel is starting to bloom!
When we got to the American columbo plant the flower stalk looked like it was about three feet tall now. It’s kind of hard to make out in the third picture here, with all the other greenery surrounding it. It looks top heavy, with the bundle of buds bending way over.
The next picture is my scene for Karma’s “same location for all 4 seasons” photo hunt. I made it an 8 season endeavor, including Groundhog Day, May Day, First Harvest and Halloween, which fall between the solstices and equinoxes. If you want to join in please see her instructions at the end of this post HERE at Karma’s When I Feel Like It Blog.
I can’t believe the difference from the first two pictures I took and this one. It will be fun to post them all together at the end of the year. And I will keep on checking the American columbo! It’s getting hot. It was almost 90°F that day, above the average mid 70s, and Tim didn’t last too long. (I was finally in a short sleeve shirt with no jacket!) And the drought monitor officially has us at abnormally dry. It should be an interesting late spring and summer.
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)
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)
As it was last time we visited, a very pleasant spring morning ramble along the creek and in the woods. 🍃
On the last day of March the temperature got up into 80s and the sunshine was abundant. It was the perfect setting for my first walk of the year without wearing even a jacket. Two friends came by and the three of us headed down to the neighborhood creek for a little adventure.
Two days earlier Tim & I had explored a bit and found a few bluets making a tentative appearance. What a difference two days made! There were bluets everywhere, clump after clump at every turn on the path. And the leaves on the trees were starting to leaf out in earnest.
As we wandered up the path following the creek we soon encountered a challenge, a steep bank on one side of the path and the swiftly flowing creek on the other. And the narrow path became a stretch of jagged rocks. There was a discussion about how or if we should continue and then, one friend took the lead and proceeded, saying, “we can do this!” And so we followed, hugging the hill, practically crawling, grabbing saplings and roots for support.
When we finally got past the steep bank and had a flat place to stand my adrenaline was pumping and I was shaking like a leaf. But I turned around, and took a picture (above) of the route we had taken. We had started down near where that tree is lying across the water so some of the “path” we took was behind the curve…
Our reward was a chance to walk around on some flat land and enjoy seeing more spring flowers. We saw some stairs leading up to a neighborhood and decided that would be our way home, and we saw a little bridge over the creek, too. So we crossed over and walked some more. There are so many paths in this forest!
There were birds singing everywhere, but they were hard to spot. I probably wouldn’t have included the following blurry pictures but I had to share my newest life bird! Although I’ve heard phoebes calling before it was a delight to actually see one!
One of our most familiar eastern flycatchers, the Eastern Phoebe’s raspy “phoebe” call is a frequent sound around yards and farms in spring and summer. These brown-and-white songbirds sit upright and wag their tails from prominent, low perches. They typically place their mud-and-grass nests in protected nooks on bridges, barns, and houses, which adds to the species’ familiarity to humans. Hardy birds, Eastern Phoebes winter farther north than most other flycatchers and are one of the earliest returning migrants in spring. ~ All About Birds website
Retracing our steps to the bridge I was able to get a nice picture of it (above) from a little bank elevation. After crossing the bridge we climbed the stairs up to the road and walked home through the neighborhood. Tired and thirsty, but feeling wonderful!