walks – In the Woods

life as it is

I can see this year is going to have a lot of first-time-without-Tim occasions, but I’m starting to embrace them with a little more openness, letting the feelings be. The grief isn’t as raw these days, the waves of it feel more gentle somehow. And so I had a nice time visiting the Coker Arboretum with Sally while the college students were away on spring break.

spring starflower (South America)
with small milkweed bug

I did not notice that bug when I was taking the picture – it often amazes what the camera finds for me. We lingered quite a while near this beautiful patch of starflowers.

This bunch of spirea bushes was breathtaking – the camera tried but couldn’t quite capture the beauty. We also lingered here.

I don’t see nondual spirituality as a path to perpetual bliss. From my perspective, being awake is about total intimacy with life as it is. It’s not about escape or turning away. And it’s not about trying to find an explanation either, because ultimately, we can’t. Everything is the way it is because the whole universe is the way it is.
~ Joan Tollifson
(Right Now, Just As It Is!, August 21, 2025, “The Play of Life”)

Our lives teach us who we are.
~ Salman Rushdie
(In Good Faith)

Every once in a while the energy of a certain tree will attract me. This swamp chestnut oak was huge! There was something wise and majestic about it. I couldn’t get far enough away to get all of it, so I tried to get half of it. Conversely, because there are signs everywhere warning us to stay on the paths, I couldn’t get close enough to touch it, which is what I very much wanted to do.

But then I thought of my old gull friend with the mangled leg, and how I fed off his wise energy even though I never touched him. So I looked up into the branches and with the zoom lens saw some new leaves and catkins. It made me think of the quote about being intimate with life as it is.

Japanese flowering cherry tree (Kwanzan cultivar)

The last two pictures were actually taken on the UNC campus as we were walking back to the car. These special cherry trees were presented to the university by the Class of 1929, making them almost 100 years old!

So many beautiful blossoms on such a lovely warm spring day. And so many peaceful thoughts to bring home with me.

a very muddy walk

We got a lot of much needed rain on Thursday and Friday so Saturday’s walk in the woods was very muddy. It was nice to see the creek filled with lots of water for a change.

It’s been said that one never steps onto the same path twice and I had that feeling when I spotted a huge boulder on the other side of the creek. It stood out like a sore thumb and I wondered how I had never noticed it before. It can’t be a glacial erratic because “there are no known, scientifically verified glacial erratics in the Piedmont of North Carolina.” I will have to ask my geologist sister about it.

It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen a new life bird so I was pleasantly surprised when Sally, looking through her binoculars, identified the bird we saw flying around the tree canopy with a flock of tufted titmice and other smaller birds. My camera’s zoom lens struggled to get these cropped shots of a yellow-bellied sapsucker!

On a walk through the forest you might spot rows of shallow holes in tree bark. In the East, this is the work of the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, an enterprising woodpecker that laps up the leaking sap and any trapped insects with its specialized, brush-tipped tongue. Attired sharply in barred black-and-white, with a red cap and (in males) throat, they sit still on tree trunks for long intervals while feeding. To find one, listen for their loud mewing calls or stuttered drumming.
~ All About Birds website

On our way out of the woods we found a patch of Lenten roses (aka Christmas roses, hellebores, winter roses) enjoying a little patch of late-winter sunshine. They’re not native and are not actual roses, but belong to the buttercup family. They are very popular in gardens here, probably because they are highly deer-resistant. Spring is around the corner!

weeds, benches, catkins

2.21.26 ~ Bolin Creek Trail
Jim’s Community Bench

The bench features red poppies, which were [Jim] Huegerich’s favorite flowers. The flowers, bench, and tubing have a “whisper” function: people sitting on the bench can whisper into one flower and listen on the other as the piping carries the sound. The bench was created by nationally known sculptor Jim Gallucci, based on input from the Huegerich family.
~ Triangle Blog Blog

Although I have been diligent about walking on my treadmill, due to weather and plans cancelled by winter illnesses, I had not walked outside in over a month! It rained Saturday morning and things didn’t look too hopeful for a weekend walk. But, the weather app promised a dry time slot at 2 pm and my friend Susan was willing to take advantage of it with me. The sun even came out!

I suggested Bolin Creek Trail, a paved greenway, so we didn’t have to get our shoes muddy. Paved trails might be a good idea in the summer, too, as a strategy for avoiding seed ticks. Maybe. We found lots of pretty little weeds along the way, passed by lots of other people enjoying the day, and saw lots of art work painted on concrete pipes and bridge underpasses.

Joe Herzenberg (1941-2007) Memorial Bench, 2018
by Mike Waller & Leah Foushee Waller
(bronze, concrete, aluminum)

Joe Herzenberg was a long-time resident of Chapel Hill and a historian. He served on the Chapel Hill Town Council from 1979-1981 and 1987-1993. After leaving the council, he continued to advocate for environmental preservation as chair of the town’s Greenways Commission and the Merritt’s Pasture Committee. Joe was also a champion for civil liberties. He was the founder and a decade-long board member of Equality NC PAC.

In spite of the gentle, dreary rains we’ve been getting lately after the snow and ice storms, we are still in a severe draught. The weeds seem to be all right, though, but Bolin Creek isn’t very full.

smooth alder catkins
(these shrubs like to grow along creek banks)

Alder Catkins
Male Catkins: Long, slender, and dangling (pendulous), these are initially reddish but turn yellow as they mature, reaching 2–10 cm in length. They produce large amounts of pollen, which is wind-dispersed.
Female Catkins: Smaller and initially reddish-purple, these are located on the same twigs as the male catkins. After pollination, they mature into woody, dark brown or black, cone-like structures that persist on the tree through the winter.
~ AI

There remains a hole in my world, a hole that my being futilely tries to fill in with memory flashes and pangs of heartache. Tim & I started to follow this trail the first year we moved down here, but we didn’t get as far along it as Susan and I did this day. Walking on the smooth pavement was too painful for him and thereafter we focused on trails with uneven terrain. It felt a little strange going past the point where Tim & I had turned around. At the time I was disappointed that we couldn’t continue down the path. Now I could. Part of me didn’t want to go on without him. Maybe all of me. Nevertheless, I did enjoy myself, even without him. It’s weird how both things can be true.

winter walk to elephant rock

Dima called out from behind me as we walked along Elephant Rock Trail. “Look up! Directly above you!” A beautiful red-shouldered hawk was observing us from a fallen tree suspended above the trail. We noticed it had one talon curled up close to its belly. It was a pretty cold day in spite of abundant sunshine so it was probably trying to keep warm.

It had been over two years since Tim & I took this long, hilly, walk out to Elephant Rock by Morgan Creek. This time Dima, Larisa and Katie joined me. (Finn was at camp.) It looked a little different out there without leaves on all the trees.

looking down to Elephant Rock, Morgan Creek, and my family from the trail

father and daughter decide the climb up to the elephant’s head

After conquering the rock they couldn’t resist the challenge of crossing the creek on a fallen tree trunk. They kept testing their balances while standing, but finally decided to sit and scooch over bit by bit.

Larisa and I started heading back down the trail while Dima and Katie came back over the creek and then caught up with us. Watching them cross the creek the one time was more than enough excitement for me!

by the lake

1.12.26 ~ Jordan Lake State Recreation Area
(Ebenezer Church Day-Use Area)
Apex, North Carolina

On a cold January day Sally drove me out to explore one of her favorite birding spots. When we got to Jordan Lake the first thing I saw was a solitary great blue heron. It didn’t seem to be fishing or doing anything in particular, so I took lots of photos before it finally decided to slowly saunter away.

Jordan Lake is a 13,940-acre man-made reservoir with 180 miles of shoreline. The Piedmont here in North Carolina has no natural lakes. There are plenty of rivers and creeks, though, and a few temporary, very small, beaver ponds.

There were some gulls flying around way out in the middle of the lake, and the one above bobbing along the ripples. Too far away to identify. But, much to my delight, when my eyes came back to the shoreline, they landed on a killdeer! Like the heron, it didn’t seem to be occupied doing anything. I finally stopped waiting for it to do something and continued walking along the shore.

late afternoon winter sunlight across the lake

Sally pointed out a clump of greenery way up in a bare branched tree. My guess was mistletoe and it turns out it was indeed American mistletoe. I had no idea there are 1500 species of mistletoe.

Way up in another tree a goldfinch was singing from its perch. A little too far up for my camera, even with the zoom.

After our long walk along the lakeshore we took a mile-long loop trail into the woods, hoping to see ducks in the ponds, but we were out of luck on that idea.

It was nice being around so much water even though it’s not quite the same as the seashore’s salt water and air, which I still miss! And I didn’t realize that some killdeer do live their entire lives far inland, thousands of miles from the ocean. Always more to learn…

hemlock bluffs

As many of my readers know, I grew up surrounded by hemlock trees in Connecticut and miss having them in my life very much. I heard of this place not long after we moved down here but Tim & I never managed to visit it. So, while my sister and her husband were here for eleven days over the holidays a good day arrived, we packed a lunch, and then headed out to see these remarkable hemlock trees.

galax (aka beetleweed, wand flower), an Appalachian mountain native

Hemlock Bluffs is a special place because the north-facing bluffs combine with cool air from a creek below to create a “mountain” microclimate which the hemlocks favor. Sadly, here too they are plagued by the hemlock wooly adelgid but they are being monitored and treated for this insect pest here in this protected preserve.

We headed for East Hemlock Bluffs first and soon found ourselves descending from the top of the bluff over 100 boardwalk steps down to the level of Swift Creek. It was exciting seeing the trees from different elevations, and reminded me of the way the trees looked as I was climbing them in my childhood.

evergreen Christmas fern also loves the moist shaded slopes of woodlands along streams

the most I could capture of a whole hemlock tree

After climbing back up those 100+ stairs we headed over to West Hemlock Bluffs. There weren’t as many steps going down this bluff, but the descent was steeper.

a portion of the steps at West Hemlock Bluff

We were surprised to see a huge holly tree down below. I was amazed to be eye-level with the crown and took a few pictures with the zoom lens. I wondered if this was an American holly which is common here, or a mountain holly, since we were in that microclimate. But I learned that mountain hollies are deciduous so it’s probably an American holly, and probably was about 60 feet tall.

Beech Tree Cove was at the bottom of this end of the bluff and there we noticed a huge fallen beech tree. (below) I also learned that older beech trees do lose their leaves in the winter; it’s the younger ones that keep them in the cold months.

a beech grove, the younger ones save their leaves over winter

Back at the park entrance and the Stevens Nature Center they had three hemlock trees in the courtyard, some with those tiny cones I adored as a child. And, while Beverly & John were still inside looking at the center’s exhibits, I waited outside for them.

That’s when a friendly squirrel approached me with a message from Tim. He stayed with me for a few minutes, looking at me intently, and then, comforting tidings delivered, took off.

It was wonderful having my sister with me for so many days. We took three very long walks, hosted three holiday gatherings, and even went to the movies and saw Hamnet. Of course, there were tears of grief at times, and it was good sharing those, too.

returning and going farther

The last time Tim & I walked here was in October, eleven days before he died. We had finally got our hands on a good map of the maze of trails in Carolina North Forest and were excited to be more sure of the names of them. The leaves were still green. (see here: suspended)

This time my sister and her husband were my companions, but I walked a little ahead of them on this leg of Tripp Farm Trail, quietly talking with Tim, telling him how much I missed him and how sad I was that we missed seeing the autumn colors together in November as we had anticipated.

When we got to the place where Tim & I had turned around to retrace our steps, the three of us decided to continue following the trail. Much to my surprise, we eventually reached an intersection with the OWASA Corridor at the same bridge I came to with my friends back in November. (see here: remains of a colonial gristmill)

And now I’ve learned that the path I often follow in the woods along Bolin Creek near my home is called the OWASA (Orange Water & Sewer Authority) Corridor. Well, we learn something new every day.

Bolin Creek view downstream from the bridge

Instead of going to see the colonial gristmill ruins we decided to take another route. We took the Glade Spur, which connects Tripp Farm Trail and Maytag Trail, which we followed back to the main road and the car. The three trails essentially made a big loop.

A couple of years ago, in November 2023, Tim & I found a little pumpkin sitting on a stone on the Wormhole Spur. (see here: moderate drought in the woods) I bet the same person placed another one here in this branch crook on the Glade Spur.

While on the Glade Spur a couple coming from the opposite direction said they had just seen a pileated woodpecker. It’s so hard to see so high up in these trees but a few minutes later I did hear one and then spotted it. The picture I got is cropped and basically a silhouette, but it will have to do.

Not sure how far we walked but we were gone for a couple of hours. We were exhausted when we got back to the car and wound up staying in to recuperate the next day, which turned out to be a gloomy day anyway.

overcast

“I’ve never seen this before!” exclaimed my sister Beverly, the geologist. It didn’t look like much to me but she was clearly excited by this apparently remarkable formation (above) she noticed here on her first walk in North Carolina with me. She explained to us that it is a pallid zone with a saprolite layer underneath it.

sweetgum branches and twigs under a covering of gray clouds

It was the day after Christmas, which had been “hot” with record temperatures in the 70s. But on this day it was back down in the 50s and very gray, raw and chilly. I took Beverly and her husband John down to walk at length up Bolin Creek.

the essence of marcescence (beech leaves)

I rarely find a bird to photograph on this walk because they are singing way far up in the tall trees. So I was very surprised to come across a feral muscovy duck sitting on a log in the creek, watching the world go by. He kept an eye on me, but didn’t move, as I photographed him from three different spots along the creek bank.

I haven’t seen too many squirrels this fall and winter and have been wondering why that is. This one was the only one I saw sitting still, although just a couple of others were later seen racing up the trees.

We went on to discover fungi, lichens, and unusual burls. (There are no loblolly pines in New England.)

unusual circular burl on a loblolly pine

on retracing our steps we found the muscovy duck in the water

beard lichen with apothecia
(a cup-shaped or saucer-like fungal fruiting body)

beard lichen growing with greenshield lichen (?) on a fallen branch

It was good getting out for some fresh air and a good long walk, and having the chance to show my nature-loving sister and brother-in-law a little bit of the different world down south here.

to live with loss

The reality is you will grieve forever. You will not “get over” the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal, and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again, but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to.
~ Elisabeth Kubler-Ross & David Kessler
(On Grief and Grieving: Finding the Meaning of Grief Through the Five Stages of Loss)

I have found these words to be true. It’s thirty-four years now since my mother died and I have healed and have learned how to live with that never-ending feeling of painful loss. After my father died twelve years ago, grief was much more familiar to me and I more quickly got used to feeling like an orphan. But now, to be a widow.

I miss my husband so much. How is this much pain even possible? The loss feels like it’s cutting even deeper than the loss of my parents because I intimately shared my life with this man for more than fifty years. My days are full of memory flashes, as if my brain wants to watch the video of our whole life together in bits and pieces. (I think in pictures.) So I pause whatever I am doing, recall the scene, cry a little, talk to him a little, and then try to remember what I was doing and carry on.

Sunday evening I took another very long two-hour walk with my friends. It was cold and the atmosphere felt like it was going to snow. It was magical. (It did snow the next day in some places nearby, but not at my place.) Very healing and I am so grateful for their love and support. We were still out there when the sun set. A good memory.