I am often at a loss for words these days, but a couple of hours of birdwatching with a new friend was a welcome interlude in the grieving process.
The beauty, variety, and unexpected behaviors of birds can inspire feelings of joy, awe, and wonder, which can be a powerful counterbalance to grief.
~ AI
Hard, hard it is, this anxious autumn,
To lift the heavy mind from its dark forebodings;
To sit at the bright feast, and with ruddy cheer,
Give thanks for the harvest of a troubled year.
From the apprehensive present, from a future packed
With unknown dangers, monstrous, terrible and new—
Let us turn for comfort to this simple fact:
We have been in trouble before . . . and we came through.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
(Thanksgiving…1950)
On Saturday my son-in-law came to my rescue and figured out how to get pictures from my camera onto my laptop, and then patiently taught me how to do it myself. My daughter spent most of her weekend organizing and updating my important papers, accounts and digital information, for which I am grateful because I am so brain-numb and overwhelmed these days.
On Sunday my friends came over for another long walk and this time I brought my camera along. Naturally I forgot to bring an extra battery but I did get a few pictures before the battery in the camera ran out. It’s a start. I’ll get the hang of things again eventually.
The change of the landscape’s prevailing tint from green to brown is not a cheerful one. Look wheresoever one may, he is pretty sure, in November, to drift into a brown study, and this is seldom exhilarating.
~ Charles Conrad Abbott
(Days Out of Doors)
I never noticed before this old abandoned car a little way off the trail. (above) It’s been completely filled with rocks. We wondered how long it’s been there.
Also on Saturday my granddaughter and I took a walk and she found three broken-off beech twigs with yellow leaves intact. She brought them home and put them in a vase for me.
This will be my third Walktober post from North Carolina; my first three were posted while living in Connecticut. Again this year Dawn, over at her Change Is Hard blog, will be hosting. There is still time to participate if you wish to share a walk or other experience this month, and you can find the simple instructions to do so here.
I decided to try a new location for the walk this year. The North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh is 27 miles away from home so it was a bit of an expedition getting there. (And due to rush hour traffic in the late afternoon it took us one and a half hours to get home afterwards!) The museum is surrounded by a lovely park with walking trails, so we picked the Upper Meadow Trail.
Butterflies and bees were all over the hillside meadow we explored, and we spotted two new-to-us kinds of butterflies. We even saw a honey bee with a pollen basket on her leg, filled to the brim. There was an interesting sculpture to ponder, and wildflowers and grasses as far as the eye could see. It was definitely worth the trip!
There blows the yellow crested reed,
The autumnal queen of flowers.
~ Samuel Alfred Beadle
(The Golden Rod)
To see my past Walktober posts select the Walktober tag in the categories below this post. When Dawn collects the links to everybody’s posts in November, and then posts them on her blog, it’s fun to take a look at all the different places other bloggers have visited, and read about the experiences they have had.
It’s been almost two years since we followed this trail in late December 2023. Tripp Farm Trail is part of the maze of trails weaving through the 750 woodland acres of Carolina North Forest. We finally got ourselves a detailed map of all the trails from the University of North Carolina.
As you can see, the woods are still decidedly green. Fall colors don’t peak around here until the second week of November. Which makes November less bleak than we were used to in New England, but makes October here feel more like a September up north.
We don’t see birds often in this forest, but the last time we did this trail I found a bluebird. This time Tim spotted a woodpecker, way high up on a tall snag. There’s a reason we never see birders here — or even people with cameras — but I’ll accept this small gift with gratitude. We’re there mainly to forest bathe in the phytoncides the trees give off!
The world of machines is running
Beyond the world of trees
Where only a leaf is turning
In a small high breeze.
~ Wendell Berry
(This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems)
So, we haven’t visited the botanical garden since the end of May, over four months ago. I wasn’t about to risk any more seed tick attacks. On this new try, I had Tim spray my shoes and pant legs with picaridin, giving up on previously tried deet and permethrin. So far, so good, but I’ve not been attacked in the month of October before so maybe I didn’t need it. Not taking any chances, though.
I didn’t get too many pictures of the sculptures this year. I guess I was starved for the beauty of flowers and berries!
When we got to the boardwalk going through the Coastal Plain Habitat we were amazed to find ourselves surrounded by a sea of black-eyed Susans, some of them quite tall, enjoying the sunshine.
Even though there were a lot of old favorites to delight my eyes, some new-to-me flowers presented themselves, sending me peeking into the greenery looking for id signs. If none could be located there was research to do at home. It felt good to get back out there and into the swing of things again.
You might also notice that leaves growing closer to the ground, where the forest is shady, tend to be larger and softer. This is because trees are trying to absorb as much light as possible with these shaded leaves. Understory trees such as dogwoods live their lives in low light. They not only have larger leaves to absorb all the light they can get but also grow their branches in flat tiers so their leaves are spread out in single layers to make the most efficient use of the light that filters down to them.
~ Peter Wohlleben
(Forest Walking: Discovering the Trees & Woodlands of North America)
Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night; and thus he would never know the rhythms that are at the heart of life. There is a time of sprouting, a time of growth, and a time of harvest, and all are part of the greater whole. There comes the time now to savor the harvest, to pause and know another year not yet brought to full finality.
~ Hal Borland
(Sundial of the Seasons)
An atypical lovely September day dawned and invited us to explore another wonderful nature preserve. There we were delighted to find a labyrinth and two new kinds of butterflies. Tim was pondering how to describe his current style of walking, coming up with strolling, but not entirely satisfied with that word. Thinking of Thoreau, I suggested sauntering to him. He tried it on and used it a few times. Looked it up at home. It’s sticking.
🍃
The butterfly obtains
But little sympathy
Though favorably mentioned
In Entomology —
Because he travels freely
And wears a proper coat
The circumspect are certain
That he is dissolute
Had he the homely scutcheon
Of modest Industry
’Twere fitter certifying
For Immortality —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1701)
🍃
We couldn’t get enough of the bright color of these red-spotted purples and couldn’t wait to get home to identify this butterfly!
There were hundreds of these satyrs flying around the labyrinth and nearby. They were tiny and didn’t stay still long enough for a good photo shoot.
To be honest, I forgot to think about ticks before taking this walk. Then, about half way through the walk we encountered three serious birders coming down the trail, carrying large camera lenses and binoculars. I noticed they all had their pants tucked into their socks, which jogged my memory and started me worrying since I had no tick repellent on.
Later that evening I felt a strong itch near my knee and the next morning saw the seed tick bite. Just one. Why do I never see an adult tick? Why do these invisible seed ticks get me every time??? (And never bother Tim…) But one bite is better endured than the 27 bites I got the first time this happened. I’ve got to learn to not let my guard down.