Fifteen
She walked with the family dog, Simba, like so many times before, but Fifteen felt little interest in the trees and waving grasses, or the calling of birds and hum of insects. The woods and fields had become invisible, and she moved through it all without touching or being touched. Simba disappeared in the tall grass, and vanished from sight and mind until there was a surprising flash of orange-red.
Basking In The Rare
I’m prepared with a basket and paring knife to cut the mushrooms off, leaving some stem so they will return next year. However, even with that care, there is no guarantee I’ll see them here again. They are mystical, finicky, and I’ve seen bumper-crop years at this location and then visited another year to find hardly a one. This year is average.
Big Red-Belly
We’d scanned that area at least a thousand times before, Jamie squinting his dark eyes at water bugs skating across his reflection.
“Look,” I authorized, and pointed at the shadowy figure making his way through the deepest part. He wasn’t like the minnows we chased. Instead of darting, skinny-brown and terrified, he was nonchalant.
Eye to Eye
As I drove to work one day, I noticed a single osprey perched on a weathered log jutting out from the fetid marsh waters. That evening, I saw him again in the same spot. My commute the next morning revealed the osprey still there. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.
The Pond
My dolls languished in the closet, but the doll carriage came outside so I could push it gleefully around the yard, offering free thrill rides to frogs, turtles, or sometimes even snakes I found from lifting sun-baked rocks. The frogs were my biggest challenge. I kept tabs on how many I would catch on a given day, constantly trying to best my own record.
Along the Logging Trails
The first time I walked the logging trail, I held my mother’s hand as we entered. A field edge harbored the mouth to the trail, not far from our house. Tall grasses waved in the wind, streams flowed in curves and surprises, and the line of trees between field and forest kept vigil.
BEAUTIFUL BOUNTY
There’s been an explosion in vegetable gardening since Covid, and with the rising cost of groceries (and living in general) not to mention the fairly frequent food scares, it isn’t a surprise. I too want to know what it is I’m eating, where it comes from, and what goes into producing it, and I began a new way of looking at growing food at least a decade ago.
When You Can’t Beat Them, Eat Them
I don’t recall when I learned how you could eat them, but the information crossed my path. I watched some videos and read articles on the topic. The day came that a gent from the UK shared a social media post in a cooking group I’d joined.
A Sweet History(That’s a Little Squirrely)
Red squirrels are one of a tiny percentage of the entire world’s animals that stores food for winter. Humans are part of that small percentage. They place their stores in piles called “middens” or stuff their stashes under logs or in hollow places.
What Remains
There were granite blocks my mother said were once the foundation to a barn that had burned, as the original house had too. Raspberries grew alongside the house; Mom and I fought through them on hot days, getting sticky red fingers. Our dog went too and delicately picked her own. We’d share some of our berries with her, but she seemed to delight in showing us she could pick too.