walks – In the Woods

sculptures, flowers, creatures

11.10.26 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
38th Annual Sculpture in the Garden

This was the first time I visited the annual sculpture exhibit at the botanical garden without Tim. It was also later than usual, in November instead of once in September and twice in October when we went before. The sun was noticeably lower in the sky and offering a different sort of light for photography. It was good having Sally with me this time, though, and we had a good time identifying plants and commenting on the artwork. There were 74 sculptures but I’m only sharing 13 of my favorites. Even so, this post will be way too long! I just had to add some flowers, a couple of anoles, and a couple of adorable squirrels, too.

“Paperboy” by Stewart Beavers
Paperboy depicts a paper wasp drying its wings in the sun.
It is made from scrap metal including old tools, canisters,
and bearings with the head that spins 360 degrees.

“The Blue Lady” by Marc Chicoine
*A mosaic dedicated to the elusive blue lady, an abstract human form.*
(cement and glass)

“Friends in Low Places” by Mac McCusker
Growing up and traveling in the South, you cannot go far without seeing weird little creatures such as the opossum and the armadillo. These animals are so intriguing and fascinating in their movements, characteristic, and appearance. This piece enables the two to interact, socialize, and (of course) gossip about their observations of the selfish, preoccupied, and distracted nature of humans.
(stoneware)

“Genesis II” by Sam Spiczka
Inspired by industry and organic bone forms, Genesis II is a bridge between these seemingly opposed realms. The overall form radiates outwards from a singular core seed. The marks of my hammer and welding gun linger on the graceful steel form. Metal manufacturing techniques are paradoxically used to create a sculpture which feels fluid, natural, and timeless.
(cor-ten steel with railroad tie base)

“Lotus 1” by William Moore
*Outdoor totem reflecting on the nature of clay and its unique properties. The Nature of clay in the natural world.*
(ceramic, steel, cement)

My apologies to the creator of the sculpture that this anole (above and below, front and back) is sitting on. I neglected to get your name, or any other information off the sign, because I was so surprised to see this tiny creature sitting on it. It might be a baby. I’ve crossed paths with a few tiny anoles in the past week or two and AI tells me late-season anole eggs frequently hatch throughout October and November.

“Mushroom Family” by Michelle Fairholm
*I take great joy in spotting mushrooms that pop up unexpectedly along familiar hikes or garden beds. I hope these mushrooms elicit that same simple yet magical feeling.*
(stoneware)

“Rebel, the Revolutionary Rabbit” by Kathie Young

scrub titi, an extremely rare Florida native shrub

“Bess” by Carol Brainard
(ceramic and acrylic)

“A Tale of Vanity” by Julie Berkowitz
I was inspired to sculpt “A Tale of Vanity” after I heard the Cherokee story of “Why the Opossum’s Tail Is Bare.” In this traditional tale, Opossum once had a long, beautiful tail he loved to show off. Jealous of the attention, Rabbit plotted a trick and sent Cricket — the “barber” — to secretly trim off all the fur while pretending to prepare Opossum for a dance. When Opossum proudly stepped into the circle and unveiled his tail, the animals burst into laughter. Only then did he realize it was completely bare. Shocked and embarrassed, he fell over grinning — just as opossums still do when they are surprised. I hope you enjoy my visual interpretation of the shock the Opossum must have felt!
(clay, glazes, mirror, ceramic shards)

“Owl Nest in Rainbow Eucalyptus” by Meg Henschel
I started this piece by making the baby owls then realized they needed a mama owl and nest. I am amazed by the colors of rainbow eucalyptus, so much more exciting than brown, thus the colorful tree trunk!
(ceramic – wheel thrown and hand built)

As we were leaving I caught sight of this brightly colored maple sapling across the parking lot. A lovely ending to a perfect autumn day.

moderate drought by the creek

It had been seven months since Nina, Susan, and I had taken a walk down by the creek! Mostly because of the unrelenting heat and humidity that descended upon us before summer even began. And avoiding ticks was part of it, too. It was very nice visiting friends outside for a change.

I’ve learned to wait until November for the leaves to start changing their hues. On this day there was still plenty of green left on the trees, but with splotches of fall color here and there.

Not sure how the year-long drought has been affecting the leaves, but the water level in Bolin Creek is very low. Time will tell how long this drought will last. For now, the leaves already fallen looked so pretty floating on the water.

exposed rocks normally covered with rushing creek water

But each leaf too has a hue all its own: one of gold, of blood-red, of the slumbering clouds and the strident sun, purple, violet, lilac, we find it all there. And side by side, hand in hand go the quick, the bright, with the old and sere, just as in our world people go side by side, hand in hand, those who are still young and hopeful and those who are weary and sinking earthwards.
~ Sigbjørn Obstfelder
(Seasons)

To love life, really, must mean caring not only for the garden plot but also the wilderness beyond the fence, beauty and mystery for their own sake, because of how meager a world would be without them.
~ Barbara Kingsolver
(High Tide in Tucson: Essays from Now or Never)

fall flowers for ‘fall colors’

In the Walktober post time frame, fall colors in the Piedmont of North Carolina can mainly be found in the flowers. The leaves don’t begin turning in earnest until November. So, while my sister and her husband have been visiting me for a wonderful ten days, we decided to find a colorful walk at Duke Gardens in Durham. It was a lovely autumn day and I hope I get this post in before the deadline!

‘Ryan’s Pink’ chrysanthemums looked so pretty on the stone wall

this little lizard was climbing the steps ahead of us

and then decided to ditch us by going under a step

an oak leaf for my suspended leaf collection

Osage orange fallen from its tree
(I had never heard of this kind orange before)
AI says that while it is generally not poisonous,
eating it causes an unpleasant taste and can lead to indigestion

birdhouse with tatarian aster landscaping

stonecrop, a dose of more traditional fall color

painted lady butterfly hiding in the chrysanthemums

Mexican sunflower (not a true sunflower)

monarch butterfly feeding on a Mexican sunflower
(I hope it doesn’t think it made it all the way to Mexico already!)

This was my first Walktober without Tim. He died six days after our last one, and three days after I posted it. I wasn’t sure if I could find it in me to participate this year, but after the family had a memorial dinner to mark one year after his death I felt like taking this walk in his memory this year. I know he would want me to carry on and find some pleasure in the activities we used to share.

high surf

They all worship the sea. But not me. I like to be near it but I’m afraid of it. It’s so powerful.
~ Emma Freeman Thompson White
(Katie’s maternal great-great-grandmother)

As I watched my granddaughter contemplating this powerful sea my thoughts turned to these words my grandmother wrote to my mother when she was passing on her memories for the next generation. My grandmother’s father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all sea captains. (And many of her other ancestors were, too.) The “they” she was referring to were her ancestors.

My grandmother’s words resonated with me because I feel the same way she did about the sea. She always told me the sea was in my blood, but I never had the desire to sail the seas the way my ancestors did. Like my grandmother, I did want to be near it, but safe on land!

These pictures were taken with my cell phone Sunday morning before we left for our trip home. I haven’t seen such high waves in a very long time! My app said they were 4′-6′ high. I’m pretty sure the tiny birds were sandpipers and there were dozens of them darting quickly around between the crashing waves. They were only about 6 inches long. I zoomed the cell phone camera as much as I could but they came out fuzzy. Well, at least I have my memories!

If wrecked opon the Shoal of Thought
How is it with the Sea?
The only Vessel that is shunned
Is safe — Simplicity —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1503)

drizzly day by the sea

10.10.26 ~ Bodie Island Lighthouse
Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Outer Banks, North Carolina

The only full day of our visit to the Outer Banks was wet. I only took my camera out of its protective case once, in the afternoon when we visited the Bodie Island Lighthouse. There is a nature trail on a boardwalk extending out into the marsh from the lighthouse site. At the end there are stairs up to a viewing platform that had a roof overhead. So I took out the camera and got a great picture of the lighthouse and another one of a great egret that was hunting in the marsh below. The camera got wet anyway because a breeze blew the rain under the roof. I dried it off as best I could.

I was so glad I invested in a good raincoat earlier this year. (I had made good use of it before, as it rained all day when we buried Tim’s ashes.) Even though I couldn’t take pictures it was a joy to be able to watch my Katie be captivated by all the crabs she spotted in the water, skittering around on the mud between mounds of marsh grasses.

One goal I had when I was younger was to visit every national seashore. Life got in the way, but I was happy to add Cape Hatteras N.S. to the ones I have been to, Cumberland Island N.S., Assateague Island N.S., and of course, Cape Cod N.S.

In the morning we had visited the Wright Brothers National Memorial. I was awed to be standing on the grounds where those historic first four flights took place. They had markers where the plane landed, with the distance of the flight, how long it took, and who flew it. They took turns, Orville went first, so I’m guessing that is Wilbur watching in the photo below. They wanted this sandy spot so they could have soft landings. Each flight was a little farther and my Finn decided we would walk the distance to see all four markers. The fourth flight, with Wilbur, went 852 feet and lasted 59 seconds.

17 December 1903 ~ First flight of the Wright Brothers.
They were the first men in history to fly a controlled, powered airplane.
image credit: U.S. National Park Service

I’m relying on photos donated to Wikimedia Commons to remember the rest of the day. More walking, it was a half-mile walk from where the flights happened to the 60 foot tall monument that was built in 1932 on top of Kill Devil Hill. About 95 feet above sea level, the hill was a huge sand dune where the brothers conducted their glider experiments. What a view there was up there! And then half a mile back to the visitor center, which was full of interesting artifacts and historical information on the whole Wright family.

Wright Brothers National Memorial
image credit: Yuming Huang (2017)

After all that walking we returned to our vacation rental for lunch and then headed down to see the lighthouse. After the lighthouse we drove farther south, enjoying the breathtaking scenery. I had no idea that Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge was next to the national seashore! Driving over the bridge in the picture below (I think) we could see these spectacular dunes. (Again, due to the rain I’m borrowing someone else’s pictures.) It was getting late so we pulled into a road to turn around, and that’s when I saw the sign for the wildlife refuge. I have often heard birders raving about this place. According to AI, it is “a world-renowned birding hotspot that has recorded over 370 bird species.” Well, I hope I can come back here and explore someday!!!

sand dunes by Ken Lund (2014)
Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge, Outer Banks, North Carolina

And so another wonderful day ended with supper, working on puzzles, and enjoying some good conversations, followed by another good night of sleep.

awed and spellbound

10.9.26 ~ Ashville Drive Beach
Kill Devil Hills, Outer Banks, North Carolina

When we arrived at our vacation rental in Kill Devil Hills Friday evening we brought in our luggage and then walked straight down to the beach. Before we even got over the dune or saw any waves, grandson Finn spotted a little crab on the walkway, perfectly disguised in the sand.

Standing out on the beach was a sculpture someone had left. I’m guessing the 26 stands for 2026 but I can’t decipher the other bits. Katie couldn’t make sense of it, either.

the two dots on the right are my grandchildren

I spent a lot of time watching three willets hanging out somewhat close to me. The lighting wasn’t great, it being evening and cloudy with the outer bands of Hurricane Isaias over us. The sea was relatively calm, but a day and a half later there would be some impressive waves here.

The woods are never solitary — they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow, which shuts it up into itself for all eternity. We can never pierce its infinite mystery — we may only wander, awed and spellbound, on the outer fringe of it. The woods call to us with a hundred voices, but the sea has one only — a mighty voice that drowns our souls in its majestic music.
~ Lucy Maud Montgomery
(Anne’s House of Dreams)

It felt so good being by the sea again. There’s something about that salt in the air and the sound of the waves that is so healing. I slept very well that night.

every somatic sensation, every breath

10.6.26 ~ Sandy Creek Park (view from the bird blind)

The heat and humidity seem to have finally left us! For good, I hope. I put on my permethrin-treated anti-tick pants and socks and joined Sally for a good long walk at Sandy Creek Park in Durham. It felt so good to be outside at long last and to do some birdwatching. And I got to add another bird to my life bird list near the end of our saunter!

Thought can keep the storylines alive, and the body reliably hums along with its somatic accompaniments that seem to confirm the storylines and then re-trigger them, but every re-telling is actually slightly different in content and always fresh in the act of remembering, and every somatic sensation, every breath, is fresh and new, however familiar it seems.
~ Joan Tollifson
(Ungraspable Presence, October 7, 2026)

Joan Tollifson’s words spoke to me the other morning as my thoughts have been spinning, trying to come up with a story to explain a distressing somatic symptom. Is it psychosomatic, triggered by anxiety and/or grief? (plausible) Or maybe a side effect of a prescription drug? (equally plausible) Or both, or something else entirely? My doctor is investigating and running all kinds of tests. Hopefully we’ll figure it out soon.

red-capped brittlegill mushroom in a patch of partridge berry

Somatic worries aside, it felt amazingly good and healthy to be out in the fresh air with a wonderful companion, enjoying the perfect sunlight of this time of year.

nature trail through the dappled sunlit woods

Ever since I moved to North Carolina I have received repeated warnings and cautions about snakes. Well, after living here for three years I finally encountered one! A copperhead was lying very still across our path through a marshy area. We turned around and went back the way we came. (Yes, I used the zoom to get the pictures!)

And he who made kittens put snakes in the grass.
~ Ian Anderson
♫ (Bungle in the Jungle) ♫

Eight months later, and the for the second time this year, Sally spotted another life bird for me with her binoculars. Even though it was at quite a distance, and moving around at a fast pace, she said it was one of the best looks at one she’s ever had. As with the yellow-bellied sapsucker we saw in February, my camera’s zoom lens struggled to get these shots, which are cropped.

The gorgeous Red-headed Woodpecker is so boldly patterned it’s been called a “flying checkerboard,” with an entirely crimson head, a snow-white body, and half white, half inky black wings. These birds don’t act quite like most other woodpeckers: they’re adept at catching insects in the air, and they eat lots of acorns and beech nuts, often hiding away extra food in tree crevices for later. This magnificent species has declined severely in the past half-century because of habitat loss and changes to its food supply.
~ All About Birds website

Sandy Creek from the Kenneth R. Coulter Bridge

Sandy Creek was pretty low. In spite of the rain we’ve been getting sporadically we are still in a moderate drought. The pond and the creek look a lot different than they did back in January 2025, the last time I was here with Tim. It was interesting to see the difference in the pictures of the creek at the ends of that post and this post. The post from that walk was entitled three stents make a difference. Turns out that was wishful thinking. Tim kept getting worse as his lung disease was finally diagnosed later in the year.

wetlands, seashore, moraine

Here are the pictures from my delightful afternoon in Connecticut by the sea. Beverly, John and I took a long walk through the marsh and onto the beach, wandering along a side path first. Sadly, invasive phragmites have taken over and spoiled much of the view Tim & I enjoyed when we came here five years ago. See that post here: sunlight by the sea. And it wasn’t long before we found another invasive species landing on our clothing, the newly arrived spotted lanternfly. Sigh.

I have not included pictures of either of them, and have no pictures of the beach itself because it was covered with people! But we made the best of it and found many little treasures to appreciate.

on the John A. Scillieri, Jr. Overlook Wetlands path

On the trip up to Connecticut we came the “inland” route to avoid the city traffic, through the Blue Ridge and Poconos mountains. Lovely goldenrod was blooming in abundance along the highway.

John is a botanist so we learned a bit about the different kinds of marsh and dune grasses and how they occupy different zones, depending on if the marsh is receding away from the sea or staying in place for a while. It will be interesting to see how this marsh deals with climate change.

I miss my beach roses and was so grateful to see a few on this walk. Lots of berries for migrating birds.

To avoid staring at people we walked the wrack line and found a few interesting items.

AI thinks this might be a cluster of translucent squid eggs attached to bits of seaweed

And of course, Beverly is a geologist so we found ourselves spending a lot of time at the glacial moraine at the end of the beach. In our younger years we might have been found climbing all over these boulders but decided to play it safe and not risk slipping and breaking any bones.

Listening to the waves was soothing, and the more we looked around the more there was to observe.

On the way back we found more beach roses and a cute laughing gull standing on the sand far enough away from any person, making possible my only gull picture of the afternoon. There were some gulls flying overhead, but too fast for me to capture.

But, not to worry, we were headed for another beach after a couple of errands and refreshments. There were more than enough gulls there, with no people around, to keep me happy for a couple of hours.

whenever we’re not looking

5.11.26 ~ Race Point Beach, Provincetown, Massachusetts
photo by Jon

In May I took a whirlwind trip to Cape Cod and Connecticut to scatter and bury Tim’s ashes. Five intense days of sharing memories and enjoying the family and friends and activities that Tim used to love. It’s taking me a while to recover but I’ve decided to share a few pictures here to help me remember.

On May 11th, 27 of us headed out to Race Point Beach in Provincetown where I scattered some of Tim’s ashes on the beach where he spent many of the happiest days of his life. Tim’s brother Dan shared stories of their childhood adventures in P’town. And many in the gathering took turns spontaneously sharing their favorite memories. Moments after I scattered Tim’s ashes, we heard the particular call of a laughing gull flying overhead, gently reminding me of Tim’s wonderful sense of humor.

While we were there we took advantage of the opportunity, with all of Tim’s remaining brothers gathered, Dan, Matt, Jed, and Josh, to scatter some of their father’s ashes. Erik had died back in 2008 and also had close ties to Provincetown. And Tim’s cousin Allegra scattered some of her mother’s ashes there on the sand, too. Her mother was Tim’s beloved Aunt Delorma, who died in January, only three months after him.

We all have such happy memories of vacationing at the family home in Provincetown. The current owner of 180 Bradford St. was very gracious to allow us to leave two memorial blown glass hearts in the garden. Allegra sculpted them, with some of their ashes inside, the red one is Tim’s.

The next day, Fran, Allegra and I had an amazing family history adventure, locating 72B Commercial St., where Tim and Dan’s 2nd-great-grandparents, Elijah & Zipporah Rodgers had lived. When Tim and Dan were kids they were taken to the house and met the widow of his great-granduncle, Capt. Neadom Oscar Rodgers (1876-1953), Aunt Lil, and Neadom’s son Oscar. (Oscar was Aunt Lil’s stepson.) Allegra was also taken there, as a very small child, on a separate occasion. Tim showed me the place on our honeymoon but my memory of its location got very fuzzy.

As we were checking it out a man came down the grass-covered lane it was located on and, after explaining who I was, I asked him a few questions. One thing led to another and the next thing we knew we were sitting in the dining room of an elderly neighbor who has lived there his whole life and remembered Aunt Lil Rodgers and playing in the lane. Aunt Lil died in 1979. The information we got from him led me to find more information about the house and its occupants online.

That afternoon I took a walk on Beech Forest Trail with my sons and nieces and nephew and some of their spouses. (No one in my generation was up for the hike!) I told them the story of Tim & me taking this walk on our honeymoon, and how we took it again after getting our first digital camera in 2009. The picture of the squirrel on the sidebar of this blog came from that walk, and was my first taste of enjoying nature photography. Sadly, this time, I, and some of the others, came back with a tick.

I’m thinking the universe may be trying to tell me that fewer nature walks and more genealogy research will be my new direction in life…

At the end of this mile-long loop walk my sons discovered a poem by one of my favorite poets under glass on the top of a picnic table. They brought me back to see it and it seemed like a beautiful reflection of my mood about the changes in focus I’m going through in my life.

For example, what the trees do
not only in lightning storms
or the watery dark of a summer’s night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now – whenever
we’re not looking. Surely you can’t imagine
they don’t dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade – surely you can’t imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind,
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can’t imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.
~ Mary Oliver
(Can You Imagine?)

…to be continued