Anxiety pulsed through my body today. When this happens it’s hard for me to stay present. My mind takes over and I get stuck in my head, unable to see what is right in front of me, to hear what’s going on around me.
So I went to the woods, to try and walk off the anxiety. I looked for the small things, because the small things, like a whisper, demand my attention. The demand focus.
They help bring me back to the moment and out of myself.
These are some of the things that I found in the woods today…
The weather-worn insides of a dead treeMoss and lichen growing on a fallen branch
Sap around a fresh woodpecker hole in a pine tree.
It was right there just over the break in the stone wall that leads to The Orphaned Woods. A small branch on the ground to the left of the footpath. And on it was growing the most beautiful little mushrooms. By little I mean a quarter inch for the bigger ones and the smaller ones, no more than a sixteenth of an inch.
But even being so small I could see how unique they were with all their soft lush folds and furry edges.
The two kinds of mushrooms were growing so close together I wondered if the smaller ones just hadn’t blossomed yet.
I still don’t know even after taking close-up pictures of both. But they do have similarities. I can imagine them growing underwater. They remind me of sea urchins or coral.
After finding the mushrooms, I followed Fate and Zinnia as they ran out of the woods and into the fields bordering the Orphaned Woods. It was the exact opposite of these tiny mushrooms as the land opened up to low bushes, big sky, and long views.
I cannot walk in my Orphaned Woods, the ticks are back. I do admire them though. Being small myself, I find it inspiring to know that such a tiny insect can keep me from walking through the woods I love so much.
Though they may stop me from wandering the woods, I still have paths in my neighbor’s woods to walk on.
It’s been raining all day, dark and gloomy, but cozy and warm too. Just as it started to get even darker at the end of the day, I decided it was time for a walk. I haven’t been to my neighbor’s woods all summer, but this evening, they called to me.
Fate and Zinnia came along. Caring about getting wet as much as I did.
I love working with my wool. The rhythms of shearing, processing and selling it. But after a while, I begin to feel the effects of not working in my studio. Of not being creative. I’d had enough of my office/guestroom by this evening.
That’s when I went back to the woods.
One of the many mushrooms I saw on my walk.
I didn’t realize just how soothing the rainy woods would be.
Walking on the path through the trees was like being emersed in a warm bath. The sound of rain in the woods is very different than the sound of rain on a roof or road. The rain in the woods was drenching but soft. It made the sound that a drummer makes when brushing cymbals.
Every time I thought to take the short path back to my car, I found myself turning in the opposite direction, going deeper into the woods. It felt too good.
Even the looming darkness didn’t deter me.
In the past, the thought of being in the woods as it grew dark would have frightened me. But I’ve come to know these woods so well. Walking through the dripping trees felt like being held. Even when we passed through a strong musky smell and Fate and Zinnia ran in frenzied circles trying to track the scent, I only breathed more deeply to take it in more completely.
It does help to know that at any time I can turn back and be no more than a half-hour from home, where I can change out of my wet clothes and have a cup of hot tea.
Although I did daydream about setting up a small tent, taking off my wet clothes, crawling into a warm sleeping bag and falling asleep surrounded by the swish, swish of falling rain.
I was taking a picture of a group of mushrooms growing in the soil and leaves between the split tree when Fate jumped between them, knocking over the mushrooms. She was all but begging me to take her picture.
Fate and Zinnia keeping me company while I did my shipping.
Sometimes Jon and I take the holidays off in an obvious way. We’ll stop working early and go to a movie or take a drive and get lunch or ice cream.
Today’s holiday was just about taking it a little slower.
After I fed the animals, I went back to bed and read for a while before getting up. (I’m reading Francine Prose’s new book TheVIxenwhich keeps me thinking has me in its grip).
Then Jon and I brought some hay bales, flowers and gourds to The Mansion and set them up outside. We also fixed the “Heroes Work Here” sign which sags over time.
Jon and I visited with our neighbors Fanny, Lena and Sara Miller, who were cutting up pears for canning. Then I sat with Jon as he cut flowers from his Zinnia garden and made them into a bouquet for me. After that I took a walk in the woods with Fate and Zinnia.
All this happened in between doing my shipping. I sold out all of my potholders and have my Checkerboard Quilt to put in the mail tomorrow. I did design some more potholders on Friday. As you can see they were directly influenced by my Checkerboard quilt….
My new batch of Potholders
After dinner, I’ll have my weekly Zoom studio chat with Emily.
This week I want to work on my “Forest In My Livingroom” fabric painting, maybe even finish it. And I got the idea to make some mushrooms on fabric when I was walking in the woods. I’d used the photos I’ve been taking of mushrooms all summer to work from. I can already picture a few. I’m not sure how I’ll use them yet once they’re done, but that will come.
“The modern world worships the idea of the self, the individual, but it is a gilded cage: there is another kind of freedom in becoming absorbed in the little life on the land.” from Pastoral Song by James Rebanks
Overcast and breezy, wearing long sleeves and socks, I made my way back to The Orphaned Woods. The mosquitos are gone, the mud drying, and the tall grasses tickle instead of tug at me as they did in the damp heat a couple of weeks ago.
A wildflower that I’ve never seen before greets me just over the Gulley Bridge. Later I find out it’s a Turtlehead, traditionally used as a medicine for digestive issues.
Turtlehead
Over the fallen stones and into the woods, the footpath is overgrown and the White Snakeroot blooming. The earth is welcoming beneath my feet, and I breathe in the trees feeling once again that this is where I belong.
I look around me to see what has changed.
A dead branch, the size of a small tree has fallen on a tall thin Hickory, bending it to the ground. I remove the branch and the hickory springs up reaching way over my head. Still hunched from the experience, I push the thin tree with both hands and all my body weight, trying to straighten it. I imagine it eventually finding its place again in the canopy.
A well-camouflaged Tree frog. I only saw him because he hopped out of my way.
There are more fresh leaves on the forest floor than the last time I was here. But also, hickory nuts in their bright green outer shells, deep red Hawthorn berries, and acorns in more shapes, sizes, and colors than I knew existed.
A Hawthorn berry
There are fewer and smaller mushrooms, but more puffballs. Textured yellow ones with long oval openings like a cartoon mouth, the spores cupped inside waiting to be released.
A tiny mushroom growing in a moss forest on a dead tree.
Since the fallen maple has blocked the path I’ve been walking for a couple of years, I’m finding new paths. Mostly ones made by deer. Fate leads the way, looking back to make sure I’m following her. The new path does not go by the little waterfall, or under the Japanese honeysuckle with the Robin’s nest.
So I’m becoming familiar with new places in the woods, finding new favorite spots to visit and watch as they change with the seasons. Although it’s still months away I can already picture the forest covered in the snow, the trees bare, the sky finding its way into the Orphaned Woods.
Zinnia found every bit of water and mud hole to run through. There’s still a little pool where the Shagbark Hickory uprooted in a windstorm.
Fate and My New Potholders for Sale in my Etsy Shop
It’s the perfect time of year for my Frog and Insect Potholders. They are all over the farm. Just yesterday a toad found a place to hide on the big maple hang my potholders on to take their pictures. This morning A big yellow and black garden spider had a web just out the backdoor.
So here are the frogs, dragonflies, and bees. Along with a couple of Sea Turtle Potholdersfor anyone who wanted one and did get one. The whale and rooster came out of my scrap bin. It’s a week of animal potholders I guess.
Each of my potholders is $20 + $5 shipping for one or more and you can see them all close-up and buy them here.
It grows all over the farm, up the fences and along the ground, but I didn’t know what it was called until Margaret told me. We were walking on a shaded path at her house yesterday when she pointed to it and said it was Virginia Creeper.
I was happy to know the name of another plant that grows around the farm and it came up again after I saw the caterpillar.
About three and a half inches long, bright green and very plump, almost juicy. It was impossible to miss.
I saw it as I pulled an egg out of the roosting box in the chicken coop. I wasn’t sure which side was its face and which it’s rear. Its white spots were so well defined, but I didn’t see the subtle details till I enlarged the photo I took of it.
They reminded me of the growth rings on one of the mushrooms I took a picture of the other day.
Back in the house I googled, big bright green caterpillar and found Pandorus Sphinx.
My Pandorus Sphinx actually has a red “horn” that grows from the top of her head. But I apparently frightened her, which is why she pulled it in and her face looks flat. She hatched from an egg that her mother laid on the Virginia Creeper that was growing up the fence. The leaves of that plant are gone, just bare stem sticking up now.
Pandours Sphinx ate them all which is why she is so big and green. But she’ll change many times before her final transformation into a moth. As she molts she’ll turn a darker shade of brown and lose her horn.
The photos I’ve seen of the Pandorus Sphinx moth look like their wings are made of green and brown suede. Their wingspan can be up to four inches wide. (You can see the moth here)
I’m going to keep an eye on the Virginia Creeper growing behind the barn. I’d love to be able to see the caterpillar’s transformation and I’ll be sure to share it with you if I see her again.
It was the first mushroom I saw as I stepped into the woods. It looked to me like it should be living underwater, a place for fish to hide in. I’ve never seen such a purple mushroom and one so unusual.
It was a sign of what to expect on my walk.
There were mushrooms everywhere, and so many varieties, I took over twenty photos of the most photogenic ones.
Some were so brightly colored they were impossible to miss.
Others blended in growing close to the forest floor.
Some were tiny mushrooms that grew so close together they created a mushroom carpet.
Others stood big and alone classic in their bearing.
Some were so unusual, I wasn’t sure they were even mushrooms.
The sun lit the way. It lit up mushrooms as I walked as if turning a spotlight on them, pointing them out to me.
This one, conical and luscious held water like an offering.
I focused on their stems as well as their caps. This one had a ruffled collar and a moire skirt.
The stream is flowing right over the Gully Bridge. My boots have a hole in them so my feet get wet, but the cool water feels good. Over the bridge, mud sucks at my feet till I get to higher ground.
Moths flutter furiously like an early-winter snow flurry. I can’t tell if I’m disturbing them or if they’re just constantly in motion.
My path to the little waterfall is blocked by the top branches and leaves of a maple tree that came down in the last windstorm. It’s too hard to climb over, and I wonder if I will come back with a clipper and bow saw to clear it away or just make a new path. So many trees are down, dead ones mostly.
I detour up the small hill and when I look up I’m faced with a dark archway of earth.
A Shagbark Hickory toppled over roots and all. Where the tree once stood there is a depression in the earth with about six inches of crystal clear water in it. I wade in the water to get a closer look at what used to be under the ground and is now visible. Earth, rocks, roots, insects. The mosquitos biting.
A small birch toppled over by the stream and I pulled it back up, hoping it will stay. I wish I could do the same with the hickory. I begin to wonder what it and the area around it will look like as the season’s change.
The uprooted Shagbark Hickory with Zinnia.
Mushrooms are everywhere. I take a few pictures of the most interesting then spot the Indian Pipe.
This mushroom looks like coral to me.I’ve never seen a black mushroom before.
Ghost pipe (also known as Indian pipe) isn’t a mushroom. It’s a flower that gets its nutrients from the fungus in the ground instead of through photosynthesis. That’s why it’s white not green.
A close up the Ghost plant flowerI believe these are Ghost pipe seed pods. But I may be wrong about that.
Fate led me out of the wood on a different path than usual. The ground cover was low and I didn’t have to duck under the arch of the Japanese Honeysuckle. This new way also took me past the Witch hazel tree which I’ve been watching with each season. I now has the seed pods which will burst into little yellow flowers in the fall.
Witch hazel seed pods and leaves, with a Daddylongleg on them.
I was searching. I had the need to see something I never had before in the things I look at every day. So I put the macro lens on my iPhone and wandered the farm, inside and out.
It felt like hope to me, the idea that I could find something wonderous where I didn’t expect it. I took picture after picture, but not finding what I was looking for finally gave up.
Instead, I went to the big maple behind my studio, a place I spend little time, and leaned against the tree, soaking in its slow calm.
But the thick chunks of bark were filled with life. Moths fluttered from their hiding places behind the bark, like tiny bats emerging from their sleeping place. A big black ant scurried in and out of the crevices as if looking for something it had lost. A spider feasted on her catch in her small web.
Water dripped off the branches and soaked the bark in a deep crevasse where long ago two trees had grown together to create one. Distracted by the bright green lichen, it took me a moment to see the mushrooms. The largest one was a sixteenth of an inch at most. They grew up and down the crevasse so small I had no idea what they really looked like till I focused my lens on them.
Others stood big and alone classic in their bearing.
The sun lit the way. It lit up mushrooms as I walked as if turning a spotlight on them, pointing them out to me.
