Steve and I were talking the other day and I said "I just love magic." This totally confused him because he knows I'm not a huge fan of magic shows that involve disappearing people, disappearing and reappearing objects etc. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm a dud, but anyways - I had to clarify and said, "I love REAL magic." What is real magic? To me, it's fireflies, frog and insect song, the emergence of butterflies and moths, migration, trees from a tiny seed (any plant from a seed, I mean seriously), life, LOVE, the smell of Common Milkweed in full bloom and on and on I could easily go, but let's stop on Glades.
Glades are these dry, magical openings in the forest. (Really, if you've never been you must go. Let me show you why.) South facing slopes with shallow bedrock makes for a super hot place to grow that's often inhospitable to most trees so plants that can tolerate hot and dry grow there...think prairie plants. Here's a peak at the glade from the surrounding forest....
We emerged from the forest to witness this (pinch me, please!):
Yes, that is real magic folks: Pale Coneflower (Echinacea pallida) in full, perfect bloom, humming bees, fluttering butterflies, singing indigo buntings; it only gets better when shared with people you love. Here's Steve, me and our dear friend Beth - the Land Steward of these Harrison County Glades by job and by heart. She is a huge part of why these places are so well cared for and is completely bad *** in my opinion. She and Steve work harder than most everyone I know except for Steve and my Dads. More magic...two people giving so much of themselves for others and this beautiful land. Thank you both from the deepest part of my heart! As they both move onto new career & life paths, I know that new magic is in the making and I'm so excited to see where it leads. Congratulations to you both!
Not yet in bloom while we visited, Short Green Milkweed (Asclepias viridiflora) thrives in these glades. Look at that awesome umbel flower structure and it's a milkweed - of course we love it!
As we transitioned back into the woods...
we saw the super cool Climbing Milkvine (Gonolobus obliquus or Matelea obliqua), another member of the mikweed family.
Chestnut oaks shared their magical form and gift of shade with us and ...
with creatures like this beautiful mushroom (Michelle my mushroom guru - thoughts?).
Pure soul feeding MAGIC.
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query magic. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query magic. Sort by date Show all posts
Friday, June 17, 2016
Friday, December 18, 2015
Wow, Birds in the Yard!
This is our front yard (viewed from inside our living room) that we've converted overtime from lawn to native plants and shrubs.
While sitting by the fire this morning, preparing for the day with some coffee I looked out the window and abandoned my breakfast just to watch.
There were birds EVERYWHERE...feeding on the tree stump and in the sumac, scratching in the leaf litter, pecking on the plant stalks and seed heads. Magic!
Well, it felt like magic to me, but really it makes sense...we created habitat and planted food sources, but still - magic! What a simple action that made such a huge difference. I really am in awe.
Here's the morning list I noted in about five minutes, in our tiny front yard, right next to the road:
Red-bellied Woodpeckers
Downy Woodpeckers
Dark-eyed Juncos
Northern Cardinals
Blue Jays
Tree Sparrows
Fox Sparrow!
Song Sparrow
House Sparrows
Tufted Titmice
Carolina Chickadees
White-breasted Nuthatches
While sitting by the fire this morning, preparing for the day with some coffee I looked out the window and abandoned my breakfast just to watch.
There were birds EVERYWHERE...feeding on the tree stump and in the sumac, scratching in the leaf litter, pecking on the plant stalks and seed heads. Magic!
Well, it felt like magic to me, but really it makes sense...we created habitat and planted food sources, but still - magic! What a simple action that made such a huge difference. I really am in awe.
Here's the morning list I noted in about five minutes, in our tiny front yard, right next to the road:
Red-bellied Woodpeckers
Downy Woodpeckers
Dark-eyed Juncos
Northern Cardinals
Blue Jays
Tree Sparrows
Fox Sparrow!
Song Sparrow
House Sparrows
Tufted Titmice
Carolina Chickadees
White-breasted Nuthatches
Monday, September 23, 2019
And the nature magic continues...
The insect chorus hums as I write and I am keenly aware of the shifting of the sun southward. We are celebrating the fall equinox and it hardly seems possible. This summer filled us up with warmth and beauty and dried us up with drought. We are tired of watching plants wither before they normally would, but we remain steadfast in our hope that rain will return.
Some of the beauty we lived and loved on our little patch of Earth must be shared so here is my late summer post written for each of you and as a reminder for me. Thanks as always for sharing in our lives.
Eastern Wahoo (Euonymus atropurpureus) flowers wowed us with their purple color....a subtle prelude to their orange seeds and pink capsules.
Swamp aster or bristly aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum) is magnificent - probably my favorite aster, though how can I pick? The richness of New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) even amidst the drought drops me to my knees in awe. Her purple flowers opened up even as all her leaves fell off and the swamp aster said goodbye much ahead of time. This resiliency supports our spirits and the migrating monarchs in such an important and needed way.
Planting False Indigo (Amorpha fruticosa), an excellent bee plant, made me take an up close look at the nitrogen fixing nodules of leguminous plants. This bacterial/plant relationship is pretty freakin' cool. Plants always wow me, I mean really. I've said it before - chlorophyll, making your own food in your body - how do you top that?
This fascination and all the relationships is, of course, why we grow the plants we do...
and create the sacred space we do. Yes sacred. How can it be anything else? See for yourself:
Gray treefrog resting on cup plant...
Monarchs feasting on common milkweed in our lean-to greenhouse...
Carpenter bee nectaring on swamp milkweed...
Laurel sphinx...
Spined micrathena web and female...
American plum fruit (so delicious and the only one produced this year)...
Tiger swallowtail nectaring on obedient plant...
Large maple spanworm resting on native lettuce...
Spotted apatelodes caterpillar munching...
(For more on this sacredness, read Mary Oliver's Winter Hours page 107 and 108.)
stacking by-product firewood,
and this year, working with our cats to help them like one another and get ready to travel for a little winter journey to a warmer and sunnier land...
The summer magic culminated in the green darner migration through Ohio, which was absolutely phenomenal and landed us on our rear ends for hours amidst the plants watching the thousands of winged lives zipping about eating up mosquitoes, gnats and flying ants.
This pileated woodpecker feather we found on a hike reminded me, once again, there is so much life around, not always or often seen, but still there and breathing (or not) and living and going about life just like I am. The connection we all share with this world is deep and wide and to feel it, all we need to do is pay attention.
Some of the beauty we lived and loved on our little patch of Earth must be shared so here is my late summer post written for each of you and as a reminder for me. Thanks as always for sharing in our lives.
Eastern Wahoo (Euonymus atropurpureus) flowers wowed us with their purple color....a subtle prelude to their orange seeds and pink capsules.
Swamp aster or bristly aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum) is magnificent - probably my favorite aster, though how can I pick? The richness of New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) even amidst the drought drops me to my knees in awe. Her purple flowers opened up even as all her leaves fell off and the swamp aster said goodbye much ahead of time. This resiliency supports our spirits and the migrating monarchs in such an important and needed way.
This fascination and all the relationships is, of course, why we grow the plants we do...
and create the sacred space we do. Yes sacred. How can it be anything else? See for yourself:
Gray treefrog resting on cup plant...
Monarchs feasting on common milkweed in our lean-to greenhouse...
Saddleback caterpillar feasting on staghorn sumac...
Crocus geometer moth...
Carpenter bee nectaring on swamp milkweed...
Laurel sphinx...
Spined micrathena web and female...
American plum fruit (so delicious and the only one produced this year)...
Tiger swallowtail nectaring on obedient plant...
Large maple spanworm resting on native lettuce...
Spotted apatelodes caterpillar munching...
(For more on this sacredness, read Mary Oliver's Winter Hours page 107 and 108.)
Winter comes every year and is on the way so we prepared this summer by:
planting hardy greens,
stacking by-product firewood,
and this year, working with our cats to help them like one another and get ready to travel for a little winter journey to a warmer and sunnier land...
The light around us this time of year beams, twirls and swirls and lights us on fire. It's often in my daydreams and nightdreams; Steve says I am a photon. My dream, I say! I come to life in the radiance of that magnificent celestial being so I played with this photo and made it show the magic I felt in the light watching these sawtooth sunflowers (Helianthus grosseserratus).
The summer magic culminated in the green darner migration through Ohio, which was absolutely phenomenal and landed us on our rear ends for hours amidst the plants watching the thousands of winged lives zipping about eating up mosquitoes, gnats and flying ants.
This pileated woodpecker feather we found on a hike reminded me, once again, there is so much life around, not always or often seen, but still there and breathing (or not) and living and going about life just like I am. The connection we all share with this world is deep and wide and to feel it, all we need to do is pay attention.
Don't miss all our weekly You Tube videos highlighting this beauty.
Till next time my friends, we wish you much love, hope and resiliency!
P.S. Strange Trails by Lord Huron - I find I can't get enough of this music. I love it and for a folk music girl, it's an unusual allegiance. Also, this. "When the ocean drinks the sky and the city winks its eye." "I hear the river say your name." This language is what does it, I suppose. Do you love music too? Please share your favorites.
Labels:
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Tuesday, April 11, 2017
A Tribute to our 125 miles on the Arizona Trail, March 2017
What an adventure we experienced on the Arizona Trail! We are so grateful for the beautiful landscapes, new friendships, trail simplicity and life lessons learned.
Through serendipity and much generous help from new and old friends, we started at the southern terminus of the AZT, which is found at the Mexico border.
Steve celebrated with his classic pose:
After the odyssey to get to the trail from our home in Ohio, which was a fabulous journey in its own right, we both were so excited to finally just start hiking.
The Huachua mountains greeted us right away and offered us a steady, steep hike up, up, up with extreme buffeting winds. At Bear Saddle, the winds were so strong, so chilly and so powerful we had to concentrate just to keep our footing. It was this power and this weather that spoke to some inner, subconscious part of me and I could not quit smiling - the huge wide mouthed kind that makes sensitive-teeth people like me wince, but I simply could not stop - and then the giggles started in. Yes, giggles....crazy town giggles. I almost started yelling from some primal place inside me, but by this point Steve was watching me closely. 😄 I found such delight in the incredible power of Mother Nature and so this became one of those moments I tucked safely into a very sacred place in my memory and heart. The trip could have ended at this moment because I received immediately what I sought, but I'm glad it kept going a bit longer.
The wet AZ winter gave us precious, life giving water everywhere. Sometimes it was hard to trust if that water would be there so we always carried lots, but this year, it pooled and cascaded from the desert in all manners of springs, streams, rocks, and depressions. What a gift to witness this life changing force.
The water made every desert plant bloom this year and we got to savor the sweetly scented, blooming Manzanita, which bees adored.
The Arizona Trail goes up and over many mountain ranges, so it is a challenging trail physically and mentally, but traversing so many different ecosystems - thanks to changes in elevation and moisture - is very, very cool. We are still in the high country below as evidenced by the big pines.
Notice the change in vegetation with low junipers and scrub oaks as we descend...
Grasslands take hold in landscapes usually too dry for trees and in lands that are not overgrazed, the grasses persist and thrive and make for striking visual landscapes alive with so many grassland dependent animals.
The lower elevations meant no more post-holing and slipping and sliding on trail snow, but it meant hot temperatures (20 degrees above normal at times) and intense sunshine so we both utilized and appreciated our lightweight umbrellas.
The town of Patagonia offered us our first resupply, showers and non-trail food. It's an eclectic town well worth a visit especially when winter gets too much in the northern parts of the country.
Serendipity worked its magic on the trail too and a big piece, not yet mentioned, though through this whole time they were woven into our experience, are new friends: Deborah and Bill. We met Deborah in the Huachucas after she hiked in several miles with their friend Terri to send her boyfriend Bill on his way. She told us to watch for Bill and that he just had knee surgery five weeks prior. WOW. Knee surgery? You would never know; this boy can hike (and climb and design and fly and on and on and on)! He offered us, not only the amazing leukotape for blisters and knee pain help for me, but great conversation and an easy, comfortable, happy friendship....just like that.
Deborah met up with us off and on during our shared time and hiked with Bill and included us in all the support she gave Bill. (She would have been there the whole time if her knee hadn't told her no.) That meant, car lifts when coming into town, pack lifts, fresh, local vegetarian tamales (one of my most favorite foods on the planet), all sorts of food goodness (she is a fantastic cook as you would have to be to cook for oodles of hungry peeps on Colorado River trips), great conversation, excitement about life and nature and water. A fellow Cancer and hence, deeply drawn to water, look at the magic Deborah discovered...
We LOVE these people!
This sort of serendipity plus the simplicity of life on the trail is why we keep going back. Food, water, shelter and experiences...that's life distilled on the trail.
Kentucky Camp is magic. That's all I will say other than if you hike the trail, end your day here.
The caretaker welcomed us, made us laugh, made us feel at home and gave us such a wonderful break. Thank you.
Of course, Steve forgot his sun umbrella made him a bit wider than normal. ha!
Bill usually hiked with us for a while, then his quicker pace took him onward. Our longer hiking days usually reunited us with him at the end of the day. We won't ever forget one night at dark finding him in a dry streambed intercepting us, with his camp all set up a ways out and saying to us: "It's about time you kids got home." ❤
Ah, the desert, the blooms. Happy, happy.
Full Worm Moon, March 12. This night is forever in our memory too. The full moon and mountains and grasslands filled all our hearts with such gratitude.
Bill in the distance under the same big, beautiful moon....
Our sleeping mats and bags were the only things that separated us from Mother Earth. Imagine waking in the night and opening your eyes and seeing billions of stars and shadows of mountains and hearing contented, rustlings of critters and hootings of owls and not just thinking, but understanding deeply you are part of this whole huge connected web of life. My body responded in a very feminine way to this energy and this was moment two that I tucked away into my very sacred place in heart and memory.
We loved this hike...
and we also decided the full 800 mile hike on a timeline was not for us. We discovered we like to hike less than 15-20 miles a day so we have time to see, explore and savor. This trail showed us what we do and don't want in our backpacking trips and for that, we are forever grateful for all 125 miles on the AZT. Lessons in flexibility, resiliency and inspiration lay in our lifelong dream of long trail hiking and they of course, came in a way we didn't expect, but that is life and therein lies the importance of living dreams and not just dreaming dreams.
Next post we will share what we did next through a bunch more serendipitous moments that landed us in this van:
(Can you believe this giant van was our ticket to our car? It's wrong and right in so many ways.)
Steve made some great, short You Tube videos from the AZT that you don't want to miss:
Canelo Hills
Sky Islands
Water
Through serendipity and much generous help from new and old friends, we started at the southern terminus of the AZT, which is found at the Mexico border.
Steve celebrated with his classic pose:
After the odyssey to get to the trail from our home in Ohio, which was a fabulous journey in its own right, we both were so excited to finally just start hiking.
The Huachua mountains greeted us right away and offered us a steady, steep hike up, up, up with extreme buffeting winds. At Bear Saddle, the winds were so strong, so chilly and so powerful we had to concentrate just to keep our footing. It was this power and this weather that spoke to some inner, subconscious part of me and I could not quit smiling - the huge wide mouthed kind that makes sensitive-teeth people like me wince, but I simply could not stop - and then the giggles started in. Yes, giggles....crazy town giggles. I almost started yelling from some primal place inside me, but by this point Steve was watching me closely. 😄 I found such delight in the incredible power of Mother Nature and so this became one of those moments I tucked safely into a very sacred place in my memory and heart. The trip could have ended at this moment because I received immediately what I sought, but I'm glad it kept going a bit longer.
The wet AZ winter gave us precious, life giving water everywhere. Sometimes it was hard to trust if that water would be there so we always carried lots, but this year, it pooled and cascaded from the desert in all manners of springs, streams, rocks, and depressions. What a gift to witness this life changing force.
The water made every desert plant bloom this year and we got to savor the sweetly scented, blooming Manzanita, which bees adored.
The Arizona Trail goes up and over many mountain ranges, so it is a challenging trail physically and mentally, but traversing so many different ecosystems - thanks to changes in elevation and moisture - is very, very cool. We are still in the high country below as evidenced by the big pines.
Notice the change in vegetation with low junipers and scrub oaks as we descend...
Grasslands take hold in landscapes usually too dry for trees and in lands that are not overgrazed, the grasses persist and thrive and make for striking visual landscapes alive with so many grassland dependent animals.
The lower elevations meant no more post-holing and slipping and sliding on trail snow, but it meant hot temperatures (20 degrees above normal at times) and intense sunshine so we both utilized and appreciated our lightweight umbrellas.
The town of Patagonia offered us our first resupply, showers and non-trail food. It's an eclectic town well worth a visit especially when winter gets too much in the northern parts of the country.
Serendipity worked its magic on the trail too and a big piece, not yet mentioned, though through this whole time they were woven into our experience, are new friends: Deborah and Bill. We met Deborah in the Huachucas after she hiked in several miles with their friend Terri to send her boyfriend Bill on his way. She told us to watch for Bill and that he just had knee surgery five weeks prior. WOW. Knee surgery? You would never know; this boy can hike (and climb and design and fly and on and on and on)! He offered us, not only the amazing leukotape for blisters and knee pain help for me, but great conversation and an easy, comfortable, happy friendship....just like that.
Deborah met up with us off and on during our shared time and hiked with Bill and included us in all the support she gave Bill. (She would have been there the whole time if her knee hadn't told her no.) That meant, car lifts when coming into town, pack lifts, fresh, local vegetarian tamales (one of my most favorite foods on the planet), all sorts of food goodness (she is a fantastic cook as you would have to be to cook for oodles of hungry peeps on Colorado River trips), great conversation, excitement about life and nature and water. A fellow Cancer and hence, deeply drawn to water, look at the magic Deborah discovered...
We LOVE these people!
This sort of serendipity plus the simplicity of life on the trail is why we keep going back. Food, water, shelter and experiences...that's life distilled on the trail.
Kentucky Camp is magic. That's all I will say other than if you hike the trail, end your day here.
The caretaker welcomed us, made us laugh, made us feel at home and gave us such a wonderful break. Thank you.
Of course, Steve forgot his sun umbrella made him a bit wider than normal. ha!
Bill usually hiked with us for a while, then his quicker pace took him onward. Our longer hiking days usually reunited us with him at the end of the day. We won't ever forget one night at dark finding him in a dry streambed intercepting us, with his camp all set up a ways out and saying to us: "It's about time you kids got home." ❤
Ah, the desert, the blooms. Happy, happy.
Full Worm Moon, March 12. This night is forever in our memory too. The full moon and mountains and grasslands filled all our hearts with such gratitude.
Bill in the distance under the same big, beautiful moon....
Our sleeping mats and bags were the only things that separated us from Mother Earth. Imagine waking in the night and opening your eyes and seeing billions of stars and shadows of mountains and hearing contented, rustlings of critters and hootings of owls and not just thinking, but understanding deeply you are part of this whole huge connected web of life. My body responded in a very feminine way to this energy and this was moment two that I tucked away into my very sacred place in heart and memory.
We loved this hike...
and we also decided the full 800 mile hike on a timeline was not for us. We discovered we like to hike less than 15-20 miles a day so we have time to see, explore and savor. This trail showed us what we do and don't want in our backpacking trips and for that, we are forever grateful for all 125 miles on the AZT. Lessons in flexibility, resiliency and inspiration lay in our lifelong dream of long trail hiking and they of course, came in a way we didn't expect, but that is life and therein lies the importance of living dreams and not just dreaming dreams.
Next post we will share what we did next through a bunch more serendipitous moments that landed us in this van:
(Can you believe this giant van was our ticket to our car? It's wrong and right in so many ways.)
Steve made some great, short You Tube videos from the AZT that you don't want to miss:
Canelo Hills
Sky Islands
Water
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