To the Forest

The local

 I have not been hiking/walking in the woods much since Jasper died. It's been 11 months. Every walk I take, even with John, just makes me miss him so much. He would trot along, go smell this or that, glance back at me occasionally if  he got ahead, wait for me at turns in the trail.

Protection

 

 

 

 

Today was an odd choice to walk out the door to our woods. It's been raining like crazy, and while we had a break in the downpours, it was still cloudy, a little threatening, and very humid. To be fair, it is only in the 60's so the humidity actually feels just fine.

And I, of course, am wearing the protection trifecta: Wellies, an umbrella, and a healthy dose of insect repellent. I just realized that Jasper would have made that a. . . Quadfecta? I always felt so protected walking with him, or any dog that we've had the good fortune to live with.

Beech Leaf Disease

I feel like I've lost my faith. . . the faith in the power of a long walk in the woods. I regained some of that today. These walks (though they have to be long-ish, and unhurried) provoke reflection and inspiration for me.

Beech Leaf Disease is heavy on my heart and mind. It's hard to get a good image of an entire tree that's affected (the background trees tend to drown out the image), but these leaves are infected. The small trees die quickly, the larger ones take a longer time. But all of the beeches in the forest will die unless some resistant genotype is found.

Deepest Darkest

But. Artistic inspiration. I've been using leaf imprints in some of my functional pottery these days. So I found some unaffected beech branches, and will "immortalize" the species in my pottery. Of course, pottery itself is somewhat ephemeral, so it really won't immortalize it.

These Maine woods have such a fecund, almost tropical, feel after this much rain. All of the seasonal streams are full, the ferns are large and wild, and it feels like I could be hiking in Deepest Darkest Peru. Ha. Thank you, Paddington.

Jungle!

While a lot of the small low flowering plants, like Trillium, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, violets, so many, are done for the year, there is some flowering going on. The daisies are coming up in the sunnier areas, and the black berries (so abundant in this ecosystem) are blooming.

 

Future food

The cockle burrs are getting ready. I need to pay attention to their blossoms. I usually only notice them when I have to dig their seed heads out of dog fur. 

 

 

 

 

Daisies blooming

I close with a thought about loop trails vs there-and-back trails. Many hikers disdain the latter type. The thinking is that they're already covered that ground, see what you can see there, and they don't want to back track.

My own experience is that things in the forest, or in the mountains, or anywhere really, look different when one approaches it from another angle. Sounds like a metaphor, and I guess it is. 

Cockleburr

The mess not taken

 

I didn't make a loop today because it includes a rough road along the power corridor that was full of mud puddles where motorized vehicles had made a mess of the trail. (Folks: Don't ride on it when it's muddy. . .) 

 

 

 

 

So I turned around to walk back home, the trail I had come in on. I was really struck by this. I passed along an open field area that led to the forest trail. Where the trail began, two hemlocks seemed to form an entryway to the trail. I hadn't noticed them when I had come from the other direction. They reminded me of the huge statues of kings marking the way into Gondor in the Fellowship of the Ring. If you're a Tolkien reader, that will make sense. If not, sorry.

Welcome to the land of your forefathers. And Mothers.