More Gold

Yes, it’s a goldenrod. Likely because I am not allergic to this plant, I find them quite pretty. Golden colors seem to follow me everywhere on the mountain right now. Goldfinch, goldenrod, even the withering leaves are at least temporarily golden. The longer shadows of the early September mornings are taking on a golden hue. After the whiter, harsher light of summer, the change is both noticeable and welcome.

It is beginning to feel like fall, or at least it no longer feels like summer to me. It’s odd, too, in a way because today’s temperature and tomorrow’s will be near 90 degrees, rather warm for this time of year, rather warm by the standards of this cool summer. And yet, it simply no longer feels like summer. Perhaps it is the warmer, more golden light. Perhaps it is something else, something I can sense, though it is not something I can pinpoint intellectually and describe precisely what it is.

I have learned and continue to learn to value my senses and the things they tell me. Not always being able to explain what my senses tell me doesn’t diminish the value of their lessons. Some things are so primal that words aren’t necessary. Like the coming of fall. I can smell it. I can feel it. Deep within that primal part of me, I know it.

Danger: Invasion Underway

I believe this flower is purple loosestrife, yet another of those invasive plants that take over when they arrive. I found the plant this past weekend at the nearby state park. As the years go on, I am ever more surprised at how many of the flowers I'd always assumed were native turn out to be invasive species from someplace else. So many of these invasive plants are also pretty ones, which I'm sure contributes to the difficulty of eradicating them. No one minds pulling up some ratty-looking little weed, but a pretty purple flower? That's a lot more difficult, isn't it?

Right around the cabin, the dry weather continues, with ever more trees turning a not-quite-bright yellow. It really does look like autumn, and every now and again I have to remind myself that it's not. Perhaps tonight, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps I will see some rain.

Last night I heard the foxes barking down near the old pond. At least the local animals don't have to worry where they will find water. The snowmaking ponds hold plenty. Animals on the next mountain over or further away are less lucky. Now, I'm starting to see the smaller streams dry up, too. We need an invasion of rain here, or at least a mini-invasion.

August 31, 2005

"I found myself looking more closely at what went on around me." - Colin Fletcher, The Man Who Walked Through Time

Wild grapes – I found two small, poorly formed bunches were laying on the hood of the truck when I walked outside this morning.

I can remember asking my father when I was young if they were edible and got “Fox grapes?!?” as an answer, which suggested to me that they could not possibly be edible. And naturally, it never occurred to me at the time that my father, who knows quite a lot about the outdoors, could possibly be wrong about such a thing. In fact, for years after I knew wild grapes were edible, I still assumed that “fox grapes” were some kind of sub-species or different variety that were not edible simply because of my father’s offhand comment from about 40 years ago. (This is yet another example of the dangers of assuming. You’d think by now I’d learn not to do this, but apparently I’m not trainable in such matters).

Even after finding the phrase “none are poisonous” when doing a little research about this plant, I was still hesitant to eat one. Animals certainly don’t have that same hesitation. Virtually every local animal and most of the birds are fond of them.

And I'm afraid I must admit that I still haven't eaten any. At this point in my life, I would be willing to try them should I ever find a bunch that is ripe and reachable. But usually when I find them they are in the state they were in when they were on my car hood--dried up little stones of what used to be grapes.

I’ve made wreaths from the vines on occasion, but it’s not as easy to do as it seems. The worst part is gathering the vine, the easiest part is making it into a circle, so if you can make the wreath without finding and gathering the vine itself, it might not be too bad to do.