rocky water path

2.4.25 ~ Confluence Natural Area, Hillsborough, North Carolina

The first thing to catch my eye as we started down Rocky Water Path was a patch of Christmas ferns (above) growing down the edges of a gully, hanging like drapes. They usually grow up in a fountain-like shape.

And then there was a large group of boulders, not something we’re used to seeing in the woods in these parts. Our trail was leading us sharply downhill to the West Fork Eno River. But just before we reached the river we encountered a box of walking sticks.

Need a stick?
Take a stick.
Return the stick for
another to use.

The sign on the box (above) and the sign next to it (below) had us scratching our heads. Why would we need a stick? We already knew what path we were on, why a sign in the middle of it? Why was there a lost and found, also in the middle of nowhere?

We soon learned why we might need a stick! Turning around towards the river we saw a sign for another trail, pointing across the river. But how to get across? Checking the map we found our location and noted that we were at the “River Crossing.” Hmmm…

We sat down to rest on a conveniently placed bench and after some time figured out that there were some stones going in a straight line across the river. (below) Apparently that was the river crossing. The stones were far enough part that we would not have dared to cross, even with two sticks in hand! Maybe if we were 20 years younger, but it’s hard to remember what having that sort of confidence feels like…

From studying the map it looks like there is no other way to get to Poplar Bend Loop. But if you crossed back over from that trail and happened to forget how you got there, at least you would find the sign and know you had made it back to the Rocky Water Path and could choose to follow it in either direction. As for us, we passed by the crossing and continued on our way along Rocky Water Path. Niste:kmani:hątkóx, means Rocky Water Path in Yesnechi, the language of one of the Sioux tribes who first lived in this area.

holly tree growing over the river
(a bit of green to go with the Christmas fern seen earlier)
Rocky Water Path along West Fork Eno River

Fresh air is as good for the mind as for the body. Nature always seems trying to talk to us as if she had some great secret to tell. And so she has.
~ John Lubbock
(The Use of Life)

the trunk of a very tall beech tree

As we were leaving we disturbed a flock of robins foraging for food on the trail. One of them was standing his ground, keeping a close eye on us.

I’m not sure if we’ll come back to this wonderful nature preserve because the cell phone reception wasn’t good. (Tim’s walking app wouldn’t connect to the cell phone towers.) It was remote enough that we were concerned about calling for help in an emergency. But I imagine it must be quite beautiful here in the spring.

southern light, a hawk, groundhog shadows

2.2.25 ~ Bolin Forest, Groundhog Day
(no shadows at first)

On Groundhog Day last year we took our groundhogs, Basil & Oregano, to the botanical garden to check on their shadows, so this year we decided to take them out into the woods. Our friend Susan joined us for a nice long walk down by our neighborhood’s Bolin Creek.

The weather was chilly, cloudy, damp and gray. It had been raining recently so there was plenty of mud along the path, making for some dicey footing. Susan spotted a red-shouldered hawk who visited a couple of trees before settling on one where I could get a picture.

Only the beech trees and their marcescent leaves, looking like sand or wheat, bring light to such dark, wet woods, standing out vividly among the dark-gray oak and hickory trunks and the cyanine green of the cedars. A few of our beech trees are large and well spread out, but many more are saplings, six to twelve feet high, present and proud and serving as fine, multifaceted reflectors.
~ Bland Simpson
(Clover Garden: A Carolinian’s Piedmont Memoir)

A funny thing happened after a couple of joggers passed by us. Apparently it took them some time to realize what their eyes had just seen. (A grown man carrying two stuffed groundhogs.) They stopped running, looked back around and one called out to us, “Wait a minute! Is it Groundhog Day?” We all had a good laugh.

Tim, Oregano & Basil bird-watching together

Bolin Creek was gurgling away, pleasantly full of water and sounding so very soothing.

The sky was so gray, but then, as we started heading back home, the sun made an effort to break through, lighting up the beech leaves…

“fine, multifaceted reflectors”

… and making the creek’s water sparkle in a few spots. So we had Oregano & Basil pose for a second Groundhog Day photo.

(shadows!)

Looking at pictures of our groundhogs’ shadows back in Connecticut I happened to notice that they were a lot longer than the ones down here.

2.2.19 ~ Eastern Point Beach
Groton, Connecticut

AI Overview tells me that “shadows are generally longer in the winter, especially in locations further north, because during winter the Northern Hemisphere is tilted away from the sun, causing the sun to appear lower in the sky and cast longer shadows; the further north you go, the more pronounced this effect will be.”
I find this so fascinating!

three stents make a difference

1.28.25 ~ Sandy Creek Park, Durham, North Carolina

It’s been a very busy month! I had a great time at the reception for the Birds of North Carolina: A Community Photo Exhibit at the botanical garden. In addition to appreciating my family and friends showing up for support, I met another photographer. She had several pictures of great blue herons I was admiring. She recommended Sandy Creek Park as a place to find lots of waterbirds. And so, when Tim was clear to resume strenuous activity, off we went to find the park.

Tim was recovering from two cardiac catheterization procedures this month. The first one was looking for the source of his worsening shortness of breath symptoms, and the second one was to insert three stents in his right coronary artery, which supplies blood to the right ventricle of the heart, which pumps blood to the lungs. What a difference those three stents are making.

Some of my readers may remember that Tim had a heart attack in 2007 and was flown by a medical helicopter to Yale New Haven Hospital in Connecticut where he had emergency triple bypass surgery. Those three arteries are still doing well, but this one had been narrowing.

Our “walks” in recent months were becoming shorter and progressively more difficult for him. In fact, we hadn’t walked in the woods together since early November and that one was very short. We’ve been spending most of our time in the botanical garden where he could sit on a bench while I took pictures. But on this lovely day it was like old times again, trekking through the woods with my sidekick pointing out many of the things he spotted along the way.

the uneven terrain Tim’s back appreciates
a bird blind

Even though everything was dull and drab for winter and we only saw three Canada geese, it was still a beautiful day, and we’re looking forward to coming back here to see all the scenery (and hopefully more waterbirds!) in the changing seasons.

view from the bird blind
it’s no wonder why blue is my favorite color
moss on wood sculpture that Tim pointed out
more blue
an original way to warn about ticks!
Sandy Creek from the Kenneth R. Coulter Bridge

❤️❤️❤️

across the railroad tracks

1.1.25 ~ Carolina North Forest

To celebrate New Year’s Day my friend Susan invited her friend Sarah and me to take a nice long walk on Pumpkin Loop in the Carolina North Forest. It was my first time on this trail in the dense pine forest. I remembered to wear my thermal leggings and enjoyed the brisk winter air, while the bright sunlight created sharp, dark winter shadows. We heard many birds and caught glimpses of a few of them.

long winter shadows

I have read that squirrels eat pine cones. They use their teeth to peel away the scales on the cone in order to extract the seeds inside. I’ve never seen one doing it, but on this walk I spotted some evidence of the process left behind on a stone.

remains of a squirrel’s pine cone seed feast
oak marcescence
post oak
(thanks to Teri for the identification)
a tiny cairn on top of a post
sunlit end of cut red cedar (?) log,
covered in moss and lichens,
resting on a bed of pine needles,
with some tiny mushrooms nearby

Leaving the loop trail, we then stopped to visit a labyrinth nestled into the woods.

Carolina North Forest has 750 acres of woodlands and countless trails. It would probably take a lifetime to explore all of them, but that means I will never run out of possibilities here!

on the quality of life

🍂

Given the ease with which health infuses life with meaning and purpose, it is shocking how swiftly illness steals away those certainties. It was all I could do to get through each moment, and each moment felt like an endless hour, yet days slipped silently past. Time unused and only endured still vanishes, as if time itself is starving, and each day is swallowed whole, leaving no crumbs, no memory, no trace at all.
~ Elisabeth Tova Bailey
(The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating)

It’s hard to believe it’s been five years since I received my radiation proctitis diagnosis on January 3, 2020. It’s been a difficult journey, learning how to live with a chronic illness. I feel like Sisyphus, continually pushing a boulder up a hill, with no reasonable hope for relief.

I’ve learned that radiation proctitis is called pelvic radiation disease by the medical system in the United Kingdom, a much more comprehensive description than we have here in the United States.

In the last few decades radiotherapy was established as one of the best and most widely used treatment modalities for certain tumours. Unfortunately that came with a price. As more people with cancer survive longer an ever increasing number of patients are living with the complications of radiotherapy and have become, in certain cases, difficult to manage. Pelvic radiation disease (PRD) can result from ionising radiation-induced damage to surrounding non-cancerous tissues resulting in disruption of normal physiological functions and symptoms such as diarrhoea, tenesmus, incontinence and rectal bleeding. The burden of PRD-related symptoms, which impact on a patient’s quality of life, has been under appreciated and sub-optimally managed.
~ Kirsten AL Morris & Najib Y Haboubi
(World Journal of Gastrointestinal Surgery, November 27, 2015, “Pelvic radiation therapy: Between delight and disaster”)

Quality of life — how on earth can it be measured?

The necessary low fiber, low fodmap diet is terribly restrictive and makes eating with others and/or eating out in restaurants very awkward. I need to bring my own food.

The unpredictable and painful flare-ups of symptoms keeps me from making too many plans and the plans I do make need to be tentative. It’s frustrating, but the alternative is to never go out and do anything.

In my darkest moments I feel like this steep price paid for cheating death is not worth it.


The Heart asks Pleasure — first —
And then — excuse from Pain —
And then — those little Anodynes
That deaden suffering —

And then — to go to sleep —
And then — if it should be
The will of it’s Inquisitor
The privilege to die —

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #588)


Coping mechanisms — there are quite a few…

Gathering information and helpful tips from my sympathetic gastroenterologists (both in Connecticut and North Carolina) — I’ve been lucky with that. (On the other hand, the radiologist and oncologist who dished out the radiotherapy were shockingly unsympathetic about the iatrogenic disease this cancer treatment caused.)

Finding the Pelvic Radiation Disease & Radiation Colitis support group on Facebook. It’s validating to know others who understand what it feels like to be living with this.

Working on my original 2020 goal “to take a walk in the woods.” Spending time with nature and capturing its wonders with my camera is very healing.

Reducing stress by practicing yoga, reading poetry and books, and listening to music. (I’m so grateful for the beautiful Chapel Hill Public Library and for my playlists on Spotify!)

Distraction = long hours of family history research.

Learning to say “no” (and trying not to feel guilty about it) when I need to rest and recuperate.

What a long strange trip it’s been these last five years, running concurrently with the pandemic in the beginning, and complicating our move to North Carolina. Most of all, I’m grateful for my husband. Tim lends a patient and supportive listening ear, bearing witness to my pain and struggle. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten this far without him!

🍂

black vulture, fall colors, a pond

11.4.24 ~ Anderson Community Park, Carrboro, North Carolina

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!

in the slanting light

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

sunlight on the sculptures

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!

a long garden stroll

9.23.24 ~ Sarah P. Duke Gardens
Durham, North Carolina

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.

ginger lily

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.

contrasts in color, size and texture

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.

Carolina anole
trying to bloom where it found itself planted

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.

wild petunia
the tiny leaves on this tree made it look like lace
looking out over the fish pool to the Italianate-style Terrace Gardens

After enjoying the view from the overlook we followed a path to the 18-acre Asiatic Arboretum.

fiery skipper on stonecrop (sedum mini joy)

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.

ruddy shelduck
view of Garden Pond
another view of Garden Pond
yellow-bellied slider
Japanese toad lily

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.