New Day 60 – Lost and Found

It’s been a long time since I blogged. But today I got the bug again, and headed out into the woods in search of mushrooms. I did not take Oliver with me as the last time I headed into the woods with him, I got lost, and we walked for several hours before I found the road again. We’d gone in a U-turn.

I did think briefly of taking my compass, but decided since I was taking a route I’d taken many times, there was no need. (You know what’s coming, don’t you.)

It’s a grey and damp day, but warm, with no real rain.

Heading out into the woods at the back of my property.

Some beautiful dead trees on the way to the stream.

I’ve found the stream, and will now follow this to the pond. No mushrooms yet.

Look at those lovely velvet rocks.

With the stream at my right, I know the pond is up ahead. Still no mushrooms—at least not the edible kind.

Here We are at Hodge Pond. It is a reassuring and beautiful sight.

Another view of the pond. This pond is in the middle of the woods, with no houses, and no people except the rare person like me and the occasional hunter.

One more view of the pond before I head off for the old logging road that will take me back home.

I’ve decided, rather than heading straight ahead to where I know the road is, I will cut through the woods at an angle. I’ll either hit the logging road, or the road it runs into. I can’t get lost because I’m surrounded by roads on three sides, and the pond on the other. Here I have run into a stone wall that is typical of NH woods—they are scattered throughout all the woods here, as this was all pasture land once.

Okay…so I’m lost. I’ve been walking for some time now—don’t recognize anything. Here’s a hunter’s old ladder. The tree platform has gone—probably rotted away along time ago. But I’m encouraged—if a hunter got in here, I can get out.

At this point I’ve stopped looking for mushrooms. I’m looking for anything that might lead me out of here. I come across boundary markers, so I start following them. But then I notice they are all over the place, and not in a straight line. Which way to go? I don’t know. Then I hear gun shots. It’s hunting season. At least I was smart enough to wear my red and yellow reflective vest. I decide to head towards the sounds of the gun.

But then I come across a straight stone wall. I think this will help me stay in a straight line. I follow it. I tell myself that even if I have to sleep in the woods for the night, I’ll be okay. But then the wall just ends. So I say a little prayer and head off in what I think might be the right direction. Then suddenly I can see what looks like an open area, in the distance. I head for that.

As I approach, I can see that it’s a body of water, but I’m so confused. I cannot think of another body of water in the direction I believed I was heading. As I draw near, I see that it’s Hodge Pond. I have been going in a big circle (or circles—for all I know.)

I decide not to be stupid this time, and I walk keeping as close to the pond as I can without getting my feet wet.

As I walk, and remember how large the pond is, I realize I’d taken my “short cut” way too soon. But I’m taking no chances this time.

After taking that last pond photo, I turned around and saw at my feet, the mushrooms I’d been hoping to find. These are Oyster mushrooms and they are delicious. I took this cluster. A little gift from Mother Earth.

These I left, to seed themselves for next year.

At the bottom of the tree was this little fairy house. I knocked, but no one seemed to be home.

And there’s the road—between those two stone walls.

I’m heading home.

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New Day 13 – Moving On

Max sitting on Buddy's grave stone

I glanced out the kitchen window yesterday and discovered Max sitting on Buddy’s grave stone. It made me smile. Only a few feet away the chickens were scratching the ground under the bird feeder. When I collected the eggs I found one tiny egg sitting in the clutch. I had read that this is what happens when hens start laying  Small eggs come first. I have no idea how old my hens are – I assumed they were all pretty old. I guess I was wrong.

Three and one half eggs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chickens at the bird feeder

Today I wandered around the yard with Bo. It is interesting how different Bo’s behavior is without Buddy around. Buddy never wandered when we walked. He would run ahead, but would turn around to make sure I was following along. When Bo joined the family he followed along pretty much as Buddy did. Now I discover that Bo was following Buddy, not me. Twice I turned around today only to discover Bo was no where in sight. He gets distracted while we walk and once I’m out of sight, he’s lost. He doesn’t seem to follow his nose the way Buddy could. Before Bo live here he was never off the leash. I’m learning that Bo was tethered to Buddy – not so much to me. I’m sure this will change in time. When I retraced my steps and called, Bo came running, clearly out of breath from dashing around looking for me. He was happy to be reunited.

Grandmother's lace

We wandered down to the water where the ice was forming. The ice looked so much like a lace table cloth I have that I had to dash back to the house for my camera. Then Bo and I made our way along the stream taking photos. It’s been a while since I did this. I’m glad I made the effort to get outside today.

 

 

 

 

 

Bo having a bad hair day

Ice Image 1

 

Ice image 2

 

Ice image 3

 

Ice image 4

 

Ice image 5

 

Ice image 6

 

 

Ice image 7

 

 

Ice image 8

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Day 1 – Commitment

Today is Buddy’s birthday. Buddy is a white toy poodle and he is eleven today. I’ve been telling people for a year or so now that he’s twelve going on thirteen. Thanks to starting this blog and my desire to be accurate, I discover that he’s younger than I thought. This pleases me very much since he developed a heart problem this year and is on medication. He also developed asthma which made breathing difficult for him (and nearly gave me a heart condition every time he had a gasping-for-breath episode). Thanks to various drugs, everything seems to be under control. And now that I find he’s only eleven, I can shed my fear that he’s about to expire, and start manifesting some good years ahead for the two of us.

Actually there are quite a few more than two of us. I live with seven cats, and in addition to Buddy, I adopted another toy poodle about 16 months ago – Bo. Bo’s owners moved to a  no-dog-allowed apartment (it was the only one they could find), and with that plus other dog-incompatible issues, Mr. Bones found his way to my house, and is as happy as an old dog can be. I’m his forth owner, and according to our local pet psychic, I’m ‘his person.’ He certainly acts as if I am. He makes no attempt to leave despite numerous opportunities to run off (as I was warned he would do). I abandoned the dog run I set up on day two of his arrival. It was clear he wanted to stay. I live in the woods and his first time running completely free was a joy to watch. 

Yesterday dawned with a distinctly autumn feel. Buddy, Bo [I couldn’t hack the name Mr. Bones, so Bo he has become], and I headed down to the edge of the stream at the north end of my property to continue sawing up a fallen Ash tree before winter sets in. A year ago I bought a wood stove. I have oil heat, but when the ice storm of 2008 hit and I was without heat, electricity, and telephone, for three weeks, I was determined to avoid a reoccurrence. So I got myself a Jøtul. Thanks to the huge maple tree that came down on the house, I had enough insurance money for the stove, and plenty of wood for several years.

Every hardwood tree is potential heat, so I salvage what I can myself. The ice storm brought down dozens of trees in my yard. I’ve been cutting up the hardwoods ever since. I use a hand saw I bought from Lee Valley in Canada years ago. It’s a portable wood saw, and it works like a charm. I’m afraid to use a chain saw. The obvious reason being – I’d probably cut my leg off.

I spent some time clearing away debris and undergrowth around the fallen tree, and then started cutting off 18” lengths. Most of this summer I have spent outdoors. The weather has been hot, but glorious. Between tending the vegetable garden, cutting the lawn (a.k.a. weeds), and piling up ice storm debris to allow negotiating the property again, I have barely been indoors. My passion for being out in the open has become an obsession. So much so that I’ve taken to getting up at all hours of the night and early morning just to stand out under the stars. A few days ago I awoke to a cacophony of crows out by the pond across the road, so I raced out in my pajamas and slippers to see what the hullabaloo was about. I didn’t discover the reason, but I was bathed in the deliciousness of having the freedom to run outside at a whim with no neighbors to see or care. I am so lucky.

While sawing away at the fallen tree, the idea for a blog came to me. Ideas often come to me when I am doing hard physical labor, or asleep. I suspect they are related, but with no ability to turn on whatever happens that brings up the ideas, I simply take them as they come with gratitude. In any event, I was mulling over how passionate I had become about being outside, and was already bemoaning the fact that winter was coming and my days outside were numbered. Then it hit me – why stop? There was no reason winter should slow down the drive to be outdoors, or the ability. All that was needed were some warm clothes and boots, and a commitment.

So…I begin today as day 1 of my commitment to heading outside every day for a restorative recharging and balancing. Tune in tomorrow for more.

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