Shortest Day, Longest Night
Posted: 12/21/2011 Filed under: Motherhood, Nature, Photography, Reading 4 Comments »
Gray, rainy Winter Solstice
Happy Solstice, everyone! As I type, winter is stepping into our town’s parlor with a warm hug and a gentle shake of droplets from her gray raincoat. A very cozy beginning to the season!
Darkness will come early tonight, and if the skies are clear, our little family will celebrate winter’s arrival with a bonfire by the lake. By the Yule log, we’ll warm our hands and faces, reflecting with gratitude on the many blessings of the last year, and setting our intentions for the next.
Once inside, we’ll be starting a new Solstice tradition: the gift of winter-themed books for the youngest readers in the family! This year, we picked three sweet titles for our baby boy: The Tomten (in honor of his Swedish heritage), Grandmother Winter (in honor of his German heritage), and Flannel Kisses by Linda Crotta Brennan. All are stories that celebrate the traditions and simple pleasures of wintertime itself, and all are readable the whole season long (not just December 25). At bedtime, we’ll read them alongside A Child’s Calendar by John Updike, a favorite book for marking the progression of the seasons year-round.
Enjoy this shortest day and longest night of the year, everyone! Wishing you peace and light this holiday season!
November Moon
Posted: 11/09/2011 Filed under: Motherhood, Nature, Photography 1 Comment »
In recent days, the wave of fall color has crested. The leaves — once awash in brilliant warm tones — are paling to subtler hues. And their languid, beautiful dance to the earth has begun. Yesterday on our walk, B and I stood entranced by the falling leaves, loosened from their branches by a gentle breeze, fluttering to the ground in drifts of gold. Fall is called fall for good reason.
Mother Nature and all her creatures — ourselves included! — are settling in for the crisp, cold months ahead. Wrapping up the harvest, laying in for winter. Taking stock, making note. Turning inward, breathing deep. Readying our hearts and our homes for the season about to unfold. It is a glorious one, if we are prepared for it!
Tonight is the eve of the November full moon. In the late afternoon, don a favorite sweater, step outdoors into the autumn dusk, look for its glow above the russet treetops! Happy full moon, everyone!
Murmuration
Posted: 11/04/2011 Filed under: Nature, Watching | Tags: murmuration, Sophie Windsor Clive, starlings, video Leave a comment »Starling season is approaching… Breathtaking!
Thanks to Christina Birdsong (how appropriate!) for the link!
* * *
P.S. Walking In Season photos for October and November are waiting to be shared. They are just as excited to show themselves to you as so many of you are to see them! Soon, I promise!
Autumn Glow
Posted: 10/30/2011 Filed under: Nature, Photography Leave a comment »
This afternoon, Matt and Bennett went out for a walk about the yard.
They came back in with this reminder that a sight needn’t be perfect to be beautiful. To glow.
These leaves! Just looking at them, my heart expands.
Wishing you many bright and joyful moments this autumn!
On the Kindly Moon
Posted: 10/11/2011 Filed under: Motherhood, Nature, Photography Leave a comment »
For us, life is full of many good things these days. So many good things, in fact, that the days can’t hold them all, try as they might. When we find ourselves in such a situation, often a pause is warranted. A rest. A quick mental catnap, so to speak. A little time to retreat, recharge, re-evaluate, re-calibrate, and re-prioritize. And then resume.
I’m taking a bit of that time this month. Rest assured, however, that the October Walking In Season photos are ready and waiting, and will find their way here when once again life moves from pause to play.
Tonight’s moon is the Kindly Moon. What a beautiful image! Bask in its benevolent beams, friends, and see you here again soon!
Autumnal Equinox
Posted: 09/23/2011 Filed under: Nature, Photography, Poetry | Tags: autumn, autumnal, equinox, fall, Lisel Mueller, One More Hymn to the Sun, season, seasonal change Leave a comment »
The long wait is over — autumn is officially here! The new season swept into town in a shower of raindrops under cover of soft gray skies. The trees have yet to flash autumn a warm greeting of color, but the mushrooms? Oh, the mushrooms! They are welcoming autumn with all their might, much to the delight of the deer, who have been eagerly dining on the delicate morsels springing up throughout the yard and woods.
So many beautiful forms! Rounded and smooth, ruffled with fringe, embossed with dots. Buttons, cones, discs. Red, yellow, and tan against the bright green moss. And, of course, stark white against the fallen leaves, black with rain. Perfect on this day of balanced light and darkness.
Each year on the equinox, I return to a beloved poem by Lisel Mueller. By now it is an integral part of my life’s yearly cycle. Favorite excerpts are below. Happy Fall, everyone!
One More Hymn to the Sun
You know that like an ideal mother
she will never leave you,
though after a week of rain
you begin to worry
but you accept her brief absences,
her occasional closed doors
as the prerogative
of an eccentric lover . . .
You like the fact that her moods are an orderly version of yours,
arranged, like the needs of animals,
by seasons: her spring quirks,
her sexual summers,
her steadfast warmth in the fall;
you remember her face on Christmas Day,
blurred, and suffused with the weak smile
of a woman who has just given birth
The way she loves you, your whole body,
and still leaves enough space between you
to keep you from turning to cinders
before your time! . . .
She never gave up on you
though it took you billions of years
to learn the alphabet
and the shadow you cast on the ground
changed its shape again and again
- Lisel Mueller, The Missouri Review, 2.1, Fall 1978
Hurricane Hiatus
Posted: 09/01/2011 Filed under: Nature, News, Walking in Season 1 Comment »
Hello, everyone! Walking in Season will be a little late this month… Our city — and especially our neighborhood — were hit pretty hard by Hurricane Irene. Thankfully, we three weathered the storm safe and sound.
However, a giant oak tree crashed onto our roof during Irene, and our neighborhood is still without power — downed trees and downed powerlines are everywhere!
So, life is in a bit of a tizzy for now. When the power is back on (the prediction is that it will return by early next week) and things have settled, we’ll make our monthly trek around the Greensprings loop and bring you photos of the post-Hurricane trail.
Until then, have a wonderful Labor Day weekend! And, to those of you who still working through Irene’s aftermath, stay safe and hang in there — our hearts are with you!
Harbingers of Fall
Posted: 08/21/2011 Filed under: Nature, Photography 2 Comments »
At the edge of our lake stands a lone Black Tupelo tree. Each year, its leaves are the first to don autumn colors. They are our harbingers of fall. Yesterday, we looked up and saw that their green had gone red-tinged.
Yesterday, too, we walked to the edge of the woods and watched the deer gather in the field at twilight. Fawns, does, young bucks with new antlers. In small groups, they emerged from the forest’s margin, convening in the dusk in the center of the field. Their nightly ritual.
As we stood in that mellow light, watching, a mild wind blowing steadily against our bare arms, our bare legs, our bare heads, it was so evident:
Summer is departing, and autumn is on her way.
Though the hot bright days of summer may have worn us down, the crisp cool days of autumn will restore us. It’s a wonderful time of year, so full of bounty and promise. How I love it!
A Smoky August Moon
Posted: 08/13/2011 Filed under: Nature, Photography, Science | Tags: August, August Moon, dog days, dog days of summer, fire, full moon, Great Dismal Swamp, smoke, Virginia, wildfire, Williamsburg 2 Comments »
Smoky sunrise on the morning of the August full moon
The Great Dismal Swamp in southeastern Virginia and northeastern North Carolina is on fire. An acreage the size of Williamsburg is burning, and is likely to continue to burn for weeks or months. The smoke is so voluminous that it can be seen in satellite photos from space. And this morning, in the early hours, the winds brought that smoke to our town.
In the night, we awoke to the smell of it: campfire and peat, filling the house. At dawn, we saw it at last, blanketing the lake, encircling the trees and houses, and screening the sun, which shone red from behind. Shepherding breezes have prodded much of the smoke onward over the course of the morning, though some haziness and much of its scent still lingers.
We wonder what tonight’s full moon will be like.
The August moon is often known as the Dog Days Moon. The name has origins with the Greeks and Romans, who termed the summer days when the dog star, Sirius, and the sun rose simultaneously in the sky as the Dog Days of Summer, since the event typically occurred between July and September and coincided with the hottest part of the season. It’s interesting to note that this simultaneous rising of Sirius and the sun no longer comes at summer’s peak due to shifts in the Earth’s axis of rotation – and, hence, the dates of the equinoxes – that have occurred since Roman times.
Enjoy the full moon, and remember to kick back to breathe easy on this Code Red day, southeastern Virginia friends!
Wow! Slime Flux!
Posted: 08/04/2011 Filed under: Nature, Science 2 Comments »
A couple weeks ago, walking past an oak tree by our driveway, I smelled vinegar, strongly.
“Huh. Weird,” I thought as I walked into the house. ”Is something fermenting?”
That afternoon, Matt and I noticed a fleet of yellowjacket wasps hovering, landing, and crawling across two lightened spots on one of the tree’s roots. ”Are they nesting?” we mused, but didn’t get close enough to inspect.
A couple days later, we did look closer, and saw not only yellowjackets but also carpenter ants and other wasps visiting the spots, sometimes tussling with each other. ”Could yellowjackets be raiding an ant nest, or vice versa?” we wondered.
We looked even closer and realized that the light patches on the tree root were oozing a white liquid, which was apparently the insect attractant. ”I’ll bet you that white stuff is the source of the vinegar smell,” I thought.
So I consulted Google and got an answer right away: my bet was right!
Turns out, our tree has a case of a plant disease called, sexily, slime flux. It is caused by a bacterial infection often associated with heat stress. (And what U.S. plant — or person – hasn’t been experiencing heat stress recently, really?) The infection usually begins in a natural crack or in a damaged area of the tree.
There are two types of slime flux — alcoholic and acidic — and the acidic type results in a vinegar odor as the bacteria ferment the tree’s sap.
Some sources say there’s nothing to be done to help the tree; others say to wash the wound with diluted bleach. Maybe my horticulturist father can offer advice (hint, hint)?
[Update: Originally, we identified the tree as a sweet gum. There are sweet gum branches hanging down all around at eye level. There are sweet gum seedlings sprouting up at its base. But if from the start we'd taken two seconds to follow the trunk upward to double- check its own true leaves, we would have seen that it was instead an oak, and that all that sweet gum evidence was from the real sweet gum tree growing right beside it. Whoops. Apparently, our natural history observation skills have become a bit rusty since Bennett was born! *blushing*]
