Showing posts with label pride of place. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pride of place. Show all posts

Saturday, December 20, 2025

Traditions

Well friends, hi! It's that time of year again where I write and I can hardly believe it...it's a strange life we live if you think about it too much, isn't it? 

That's when I find joy in showing up on a wildlife cam like this. United with another human. Sharing love. Sharing time outdoors.

In the same spot, but at a different time, this buck found the staghorn sumac and made his presence known with significant scent marks.


Others came to read the message.

We smelled them too, but we don't communicate the same way and cannot understand what he said. We know part of it is to mark territory or alert others of his presence, but might their be more?

Before the land became covered in white we savored a mild end of fall. Frogs found our lamp lit windows and dined on moths attracted to the brightness.

We explored with friends and found incredible caterpillars. 

Checkered-fringe Prominent:

Spiny Oak Slug:

Oval-leaved Ladies' Tresses made herself known at Persimmon South: 

Our traditions are minimal or so I believed until I thought through our days, our weeks, our months. Some folks could definitely pass off our activities as habits, but given that we are repeating human patterns, we will call them traditions.

Musclewood seeds (good cardinal food we learned this year):

As I thought through this year, not in a nostalgic way, but in a practical, logging type of way, I realized our traditions are mostly defined by plants and by sunlight and all who depend on them. Shortening daylight correlates with seed gathering and dormant planting so that is what we did.




Persimmon Pilgrimaging is a bonafide annual tradition and the 2025 late fall exploration took us on the road headed southwest from Ohio towards Missouri for multiple quests.


Hunting swamp chestnut oaks for a friend was first on the agenda. Little bits of information and plant discovery (or not) is exciting! The thrill of the chase is real!



Though we didn't find the trees where he wanted us to look, we did find a monster at Big Oak Tree State Park in Missouri.


As we look for plants we don't know as well, we learn to look for certain clues. Like the way Quercus michauxii has distinctive flared scales on the acorn cap. 


Our second quest was the FOREST grown, not open grown, state champion American persimmon tree in MO. The height was draw dropping and the fruit SO VERY delicious. This tree is in decline, but there are sprouts coming up everywhere around the mama that are getting mowed; we think it's time to let them grow.


Magnificent!


We also found many wild grown American persimmon trees in Tennessee and Missouri and as wild trees do, they exhibited so much interesting variability. 


The bark is always a give away. Chunky, dark, blocks. This boy scrounged around the ground like a mad man after gold. Definitely a man after my heart!

With the abundance of acorns and American persimmons, we decided to try a new tradition I read about long ago: persimmon ash cakes. How to do it, I couldn't remember fully, but I remembered enough so we gave it ago. We mashed persimmons and chopped white oak acorns as best we could with a tiny knife:



formed patties and put them in the ashes first:


then moved them to the coals and let them roast. Our first attempt ended up burnt, but you can bet we will try again next year with a little more knowledge than this year. 


We are grateful for the traditions in our lives, for noticing what happens daily in the nonhuman world, for always witnessing this is a shared planet, not just with other Homo sapiens, but with the estimated 8.7 million other species on Earth. The very end of November brought us into contact with:

Jumping Bush Cricket (male) on our porch:

Orange-banded Checkered Beetle on the Kamelands Trail in the Highlands Nature Sanctuary:

Red Flat Bark Beetle on the Jungle Brook Trail at Malabar State Park

Wheel Bug on the north side of our garage: 

Wheel Bug laid to rest in the leaves...


The last of the big migratory flocks of turkey vultures:


And before the wild December snows of Morrow County, Ohio...into the presence of beautiful autumnal forest.


As the snow fell and blanketed the Earth, we said so long to our insect friends and to easy tread on trail and embraced the next season of 2025. What else can we do, but be here now?

Alvin said ok:

Luke said no way:

Minnie Pearl said I don't care:

Happy (almost) Winter Solstice! What a joy to say! I do believe this is our most favorite day of the year - we made it to the darkest day and we are only brighter from here. Bring back the light! Take care friends. Please let us know your traditions.  


Soundtracks:


Thursday, June 26, 2025

A Little Bit of Us All

Hello dear friends! The longest daylight of the year is here and the sun is out. Whoop! We are grateful for the heat that arrived with the Summer Solstice. This spring was too cold, too insectless, too quiet. A catbird celebrates in his own way, singing. Beautiful, beautiful singing. The sun and warmth always bring song. Bird, insect, tree. Have you noticed how the cottonwood sings too? How they dance? How they sing the music of water and wind?


What beauty there is in this world!

When insects couldn't move because of the chill, we helped. I imagined this moth's "thoughts" - I opened my wings in May. I lived in the forest. I felt the rain. I felt the cold. I wondered. We wondered: did they accomplish their mission? 

Polyphemus moth


When the flowers bloomed and the insects weren't present. We mourned. We despaired. And yet, we also still loved. It's easy to look away from the pain, the wrongness, but if we do that, how do we change? Move forward?

Willow


Eastern Redbud


American Plum


Little precious lives live everywhere, even in nonabundant times and those lives we sought ardently. 

Harvestman sp. (spectacular!!!)

American Mink near the compost pile

Beaver tail


We hiked along floating bridges made by incredible humans so we could witness the lives of beaver up close and personal.



We quieted our minds and exercised our bodies healing land, adding diversity back. 

Winterberry Holly and Bladdernut

We pilgrimaged to witness the early wildflower blooms in Eastern Deciduous Forest. A not to be missed event. 

Shooting Star


Wild Leek, Spring Beauty, Cutleaf Toothwort, Trout Lily, White Oak


We marveled at the return of woodland wildflowers to these 3.5 acres in Morrow County, OH all because of our commitment to share space and plant it back.

Twinleaf, Trillium, Stonecrop, Mayapple, Wild Leek


The rain created the perfect conditions for beautiful fungus.

Dead Man's Fingers


Dyer's Polyphore


We excitedly awaited the emergence of periodical cicadas in parts of Ohio in May and we traveled to live amongst them and their song for a bit at Persimmon South, in Highland County, OH. We rejoiced in their resiliency in the coolness and wetness. 

We insect watch. We bird watch. We plant watch. We continue to work to learn the language of others - to understand, to learn, to appreciate and to marvel.

17 Year Periodical Cicadas Brood XIV



We imagined their "thoughts" - I lived underground for 17 years feeding on tree roots. In sync with my relatives and friends, I crawled out of the Earth and sang. My babies are now burrowed in the soil to start the cycle anew.



We observed their favorite singing and sleeping spots at Persimmon South close to the sun in the tops of a lingering white ash and a tall tulip tree - where they felt the first heat of the day and the last heat of the day.


Recently we learned Persimmon South is loaded with native sedges and grasses and were reminded that so many diverse plants are already there. We need to observe and learn and listen before we use a heavy hand on this land that is already handling the return of the biological community.

Twisted Sedge (maybe)


Fowl Manna Grass


Less than a month ago, as we sat in long sleeve shirts and pants day after day we sought any and all signs that the 20 degree below average temperatures would go away. This feather, right by my chair told me life was still happening. Keep going. Other feathers told me life was around. Keep going.

Red-shouldered Hawk 


Barred Owl 


Eastern Bluebird


On warm and warming days, the insects started to show up in small numbers.

White-striped Black


Swift Feather-legged Fly


Lettered Sphinx caterpillar


Isabella Tiger Moth Eggs


Speckled Sharpshooter


Amidst the challenge of spring weather, a mama stray cat had her kittens in our south facing window well under a slanted board. She did alright until the south rains came and the board fell on two of her kittens. We got the board off much to her displeasure. Were we there to help or hurt? She moved the kittens that night and we didn't know to where. We put food out for her and she relied on us immediately. 


It took us awhile to find where Bibs, the mama cat, moved her kittens to and we finally found them in a south facing spot under a large clump of grass. A tree was to the northeast of this spot. Very good...close to us for protection and food and very hard to find.


We knew they needed help so we helped and eventually got the family moved into the chicken coop minus one kitten that must have died.




We imagine mama's "thoughts" - I am Bibs the cat and I have three kittens. I am only 1 year old and I am thin as a rail. I had a hard start to life, living outside in polar vortexes, eating potatoes and anything else in the compost pile I could find. I sheltered under the chicken coop when opossums and raccoons and mink weren't under there. I trust humans now. I am so grateful for shelter, food, water, play and this amazing thing called love from my human allies. I am a good mom and I need a home. My babies need a home. I need you. Jennifer and Steve need you.


Amidst the cat chaos, more plants began to bloom and we showed up to revere them and thank them and tell them to not give up on the insects. Three bad springs in a row is hard to recover from.

Four-leaved Milkweed

Common Milkweed


Wild Yam


During all the coolness of spring, native fruits grew. Some way less than normal due to lack of cross pollination or pollination at all, but others grew abundantly.

American Plum


Lack of a late freeze let a persimmon at our place put fruits on for the very first time. You read that right, an American Persimmon at Persimmon North is FRUITING. 

American Persimmon 'Yates'


After the cool, and before the hot, hot heat, the rain turned off, the smoke haze arrived and the soil dried. Leaves turned red, leaves dropped and we began watering. It's a disrupted, unsettled climate. One we've played with far too much and one we can still play with again (in a very different way!) and restore to a good friendly system for all. Don't look away. Engage with us, with your human and nonhuman community. You matter.


And please never forget, because it's the one thing that will keep us all going...we are united! 

Amidst everything, we explore, we love, we heal land.