Philosophy Road

a bit of time in PA over the holidays

2012-01-05T17:15:00.001-08:00

snips of Florida holiday warmth

2011-12-29T12:12:00.001-08:00

excursion to Highland Hammock State Park.

Quick visit to St Pete's Beach at sunset on our way to Tampa.

grateful

2011-12-06T18:07:00.001-08:00

A few final snaps from the sit spot challenge month.

Grateful today for full moon nights, branches crossing blue skies, wind-chilled face, the smell of earth.

neighborhood pranks

2011-11-06T15:36:00.001-08:00

This is what Paul & Kathy found in their basement last night.....

This is what we found in our bath-house this afternoon....

some sit-spot snaps

2011-10-31T16:58:00.000-07:00

They're in backwards order - can you tell?

sitting

2011-10-24T13:35:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, going to my sit-spot each day has been more fulfilling than I expected, as well as being not as difficult as I had expected. I am totally loving it.

I don't mean to double-post, so I'll just link to my challenge blog. And if any of y'all out there want to sponsor me, I'd certainly appreciate it.

Take a stand and have a seat!

2011-10-12T13:53:00.001-07:00

Primitive Pursuits is partnering with Peaks Over Poverty, and this month I'm taking on the 30-day sit-spot challenge, starting Saturday. I'll post be posting blogs about my sit-spot experience.

My goal is to raise $600 for children to attend Primitive Pursuits programs, and foster their connection with nature. If you'd like to sponsor me (I'll be out there, rain or shine!), follow the link below.

Want to know more? - read on here!

News from the Field & Forest

2011-10-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

Primitive Pursuits news here.

Cistern installation

2011-10-09T14:11:00.000-07:00

Cross Excavation installed our new concrete 500-gallon rain-water cistern underground, so we'll have a non-frozen water supply for the cold months. This weekend we ordered the hand-pump to extract the water from the cistern.

Next we'll hook up the gutters from the bath-house and the wood-shed to fill the cistern.

We already have a Sawyer water filter to make the rain-water potable, and have been drinking the rain that we collect in our above-ground barrels.

Bioluminescence all over

2011-09-24T16:26:00.001-07:00

Read a post by me on the Primitive Pursuits blog.

also ready for adventure

2011-08-08T15:21:00.001-07:00

They are partners in crime.

ready for adventure

2011-07-16T12:38:00.000-07:00

spread the word

2011-07-16T12:33:00.000-07:00

Calling all songbirds!

It's going to be a bumper-crop of beautiful wild cherries at Yurtlandia this summer.
Come see for yourselves.

new toys

2011-07-12T17:19:00.001-07:00

New bike for Phil.

New box for Toby.

Paul & Kathy's Pre-baby party

2011-07-04T07:41:00.000-07:00

Chicago visit

2011-07-04T07:34:00.000-07:00

some summery snaps

2011-07-04T07:19:00.000-07:00

content

2011-04-05T16:56:00.000-07:00

A basket and two catnip mice, plus on a bed in a sunbeam, doth a happy cat make.

Spring doings

2011-04-03T13:53:00.000-07:00

Spring has been slowly emerging, and taking the Spring Field Ornithology class through the Lab of O is one of the springiest highlights of life for me right now.

Below, Great-horned and barred owl specimens from the museum collection at the Lab.

Below, a Black-crowned Night-heron I photographed through a scope while with our field-trip group on Saturday. He was gorgeous - first I'd ever seen one. East end of Dryden Lake.
A possum skull - gift from bro-in-law, GK. Thank you George, for this gift, and for knowing how happy it would make me.
Three feline skulls - two domestic cat skulls (each found by friends and given to me), and one serval cat skull, which I cleaned from a head given to me by friends.

That's it for now.

Stay tuned for pictures to be posted soon of all the lovely yurt-furniture that Phil has built recently.

some DC, some Asseteage, welcome 2011

2011-01-21T18:12:00.000-08:00

You can probably guess which is which.

cabin fever

2011-01-19T17:33:00.000-08:00

Fire & Ice

2011-01-18T06:39:00.000-08:00

To read about how I spent the coldest day of the year,
click here.

some mustelids, and 2 birds

2010-11-01T16:22:00.000-07:00

Each caption refers to the photo below it.

Mink

Mink (the post-it is 2 inches square, for scale)

mink

skunk

skunk - note very warn and broken canines

skunk - note the holes above the canines. This indicates severe sinus scarring from infection. According to M. Elbroch, this is common in skunks.
Skunk

Woodcocks. The end of their beak is prehensile, to feel for critters in the mud.

Woodcocks
Woodcocks

Fisher - thanks to Justin and Estelle

Fisher, and Angelica.
These fierce weasels are known to hunt cats and other domestic animals.
fisher

You will never guess what two skulls I am cooking down right this very moment.

Go ahead.

Try.

neighbor-friends

2010-10-25T17:44:00.000-07:00

I love these two.

We were throwing tomahawks at an apple-pressing party.

Autumn snaps

2010-10-25T17:23:00.000-07:00

A few photos of Yurtlandia, as of late....

Sprouting shitake logs! Thank you Tim RedBeard!

My lovely asters - thank you Kathy!

My cozy bath-house. So many thanks to dearest Phil, who knows how I love a warm shower.
(Currently , we heat it with a portrable propane heater, and to shower I heat a 3-gallon pressurized water-tank on our propane stove, then carry it out. Eventually we'll get the wood-fired hot-water heater totally up and going.)

The lovely wild apples, thanks to this amazing land that we are so blessed to call home.

Collected this bagful by just wandering around.

new post

2010-10-25T13:58:00.000-07:00

There's a new post from me on:

http://earthmentoring.blogspot.com/

In case you can't get enough here....

I am kneeling low on the ground

2010-10-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

I am kneeling low on the ground, palms up in front of me, the backs of my hands touching the ground. My face is inches from the forest floor, and I am waiting. Rustling in the dry leaves to my right, I see a line of feet – sneakers, brightly colored rubber boots, gym shoes, and hiking boots. The children, elementary school students, are lined up, quietly and anxiously awaiting their turn to step on my open hands.

How did we get here?

Fox walking, we sometimes say, is the act of stepping lightly on the earth. I teach this skill as an essential wilderness skill – equal in importance to learning wild plants or tracking. We go over the basic logistics of it: relaxed and balanced stance, laying a soft foot on the ground starting with the little toe, rolling to big toe, then setting the heel and whole foot against the ground before shifting your weight. Simple and elegant, yet there is so much more to it than that. Asking them to relax their eyes, and expand their peripheral vision (owl eyes), I tell them to imagine they are stepping on someone’s face – the face of the earth. Can we soften our steps, and quiet our minds enough to actually leave lighter tracks?

As a test, I offer to let each of them walk on my hands. Which brings me to where we started: kneeling low on the earth, hands open, ready, and waiting. I tell them that I trust them, and that I know they won’t hurt me.

I notice several patterns in their steps: some step stiff and awkward, yet the soft earth still cushions my hands. Some fully press on my hands, and I feel the gentle roll from toes to heel on my palms and fingertips. Some, however, are afraid to commit – they lay a foot on one of my hands, then quickly hop to the next foot so their weight never fully lands on me.

I realize another thing: after this brief lesson, they trust me more. It is as if my willingness to trust them, this most simple vulnerability of hands on feet, has somehow won a little bit of their trust.

So my question to them, to each of us is: which are you? The earth is open to us all, palms up and ready to accept a myriad of awkward footsteps. Areyou striding blindly forward, and ignoring what she is willing to teach? Are you stepping carefully, no matter how awkward and unbalanced, but at least trying to feel her face through your boots? Or, if after seeing her laid out before you, are you so afraid to make a mistake or hurt her, that you will not let yourself fully step in?

How to we move from a place of fear, to a place of exploration? I told them I trusted them, and to you I say the same. I knew they wouldn’t hurt me because they were walking out from a place of intention. As you leave this page, you are now walking out with intention. Walk in awareness and you will know which steps you need to take. You will know where to lighten up, where to step higher, where to stop and listen quietly.

So, I welcome you on this journey. Walk with me. Or, when the time comes, kneel down, put your face near the earth, and lay your palms open upward. We have so much to learn together.

a few bits of St. Regis

2010-10-03T15:34:00.001-07:00

King Cabin visits

2010-03-06T12:29:00.000-08:00

Look what I found in the woods!

I think I'll keep him.

In the photo above: That object that Young Stanley is holding, which is being carefully inspected by those two curious fellows? A set of muddy dentures that little Phil found in the cemetery. I love this picture for so many reasons. (Pensive Emiley is strolling by in the background.)
Valley of the King Cabin
Flying squirrel
old bear claw marks
chagga - a fungus that grows on birch, can be used for tea or tinder.

another day at work....

2010-03-06T12:24:00.000-08:00

Shindagin Hollow
Lick Brook
Somewhere off Piper Road
Just a couple reasons I love my job.

holiday snips

2010-01-06T12:44:00.000-08:00

Big gator. This was as close as I'd let Phil paddle the canoe.

Turtles, with feet sticking out. For balance, I wonder?

Childlike wonder can't be beat.

Sandhill crane.

Take a walk on the boardwalk. It bounces.

A stolen moment, showing Clara a duck. This was the only time she stopped running.

At Wekiwa State Park, from the canoe.

It was warm in Florida. As hard as one tries not to acclimate, one does. Then at home, it feels cold. But after a few days of snow and lower 20's the spike to mid-20's feels luxious. I guess I'm back to normal.

Gemma, chillin' with Uncle Phil.

home in winter

2010-01-06T12:17:00.000-08:00

Toby in favorite basket.

The *NEW* wood-fired hot-water heater, awaiting installation in the *NEW* bath-house.

Yes, its name IS AguaHeater.

Angelica in favorite basket.

Names, with *NEW* penny, forever in the *NEW* bath-house footers.

Inside yurt. Same old.

Another view, from the doorway.

*NEW* SNOW! One view of *NEW* bath-house.

Another view of *NEW* bath-house. Is this getting old yet?

Interior of yurt, facing woodstove from kitchen area. New shelves, and snapper-turtle shell hanging beneath. A tad bit messy in there. But cozy and warm.

Ooo! I like this view - it shows the one side of the bath-house that has siding - it's larch. So pretty, eh?

out and about and South

2010-01-05T08:31:00.000-08:00

I was visiting family on Apopka Lake in Florida over the holidays. Although immersed in suburbia and holiday festvities, I still sought out areas of wilderness to walk and visit an away-from-home sit-spot.

As I walked along the lake, I stopped to watch a pair of red-shouldered hawks above in a Live Oak tree (a southern oak species). I fox-walked closer, not wanting to disturb them on that chilly morning. Ruffled feathers and sideways glances informed me that they were aware of my presence, but allowed me to approach.

As I stood and watched them, a HUGE bird came crashing through the branches and landed in the same tree with them. To my amazement, it was a bald eagle!

I stood, amazed and amused. This large, regal bird let out a series of squeaky, baby-sounding cries. I chuckled, and he flapped clumsily.

Over the next several days, I continued to visit that spot, and saw the same hawks, eagle, and many osprey. Having this secret spot away from home made me feel so much more at-home while being way.

First published on the Primitive Pursuits Earth Mentoring blog: http://earthmentoring.blogspot.com/

It's been a while.

2009-10-09T13:59:00.000-07:00

The yurt, getting dressed in her new spot.

Silly canoe campers, giddy with fresh air and beauty all around.

Us. Happy.

some springtime views

2009-07-10T08:42:00.000-07:00

Partridgeberry

Digging for the mailbox.

We are blessed with many wild srawberries.

Final adjustments.

Ruby approves.

Maples and serviceberry.

on the Hill

2009-07-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

A few cold weather snapshots of the homestead-to-be.

View down the hill toward Speedsville.

One of several seasonal springs.

The cleared yurt-spot with a stack of firewood from the largest ash tree we cut down.

Us.

Did I say 40?

2009-07-10T08:30:00.000-07:00

See post below for another view.

Maybe I underestimated the weight.

Shindagin Hollow

2009-07-10T08:27:00.001-07:00

Give a squirrel something to climb, and this is what he'll do.

final tracks

2009-07-10T08:13:00.000-07:00

I love tracking. Some say an animal's skull is the last track it leaves behind. Maybe that is why I love skulls so much.

This is a skunk skull we found on the banks of the Conestoga river in PA. It was an old guy - teeth worn down, and evidence of severe infection above the canines. This one lived long, but its last years may have been difficult.

This skull I cleaned up from a roadkill beaver we found in Freeville, NY. It was a huge animal - probably over 40 pounds of rodent power.

The photos don't do it justice. This guy was huge.

Lucky 77

2009-05-02T09:08:00.000-07:00

In the flow of natural cycles, I remind myself that Spring is naturally the busiest time of crazy growth and endless motion. I wake early, and retire late, moving in between from project to project, all the while feeling my way toward whatever step should come next. Sometimes it feels like I am moving blindfolded along a trail, with the occasional tangle in brambles to indicate I've veered too far in one direction.

But, each step moves toward growth and dreams come true.

So, here, something nearly concrete: We are landowners. Which is only real in a certain form of reality.
What feels more real, is that now we have been given permission to steward and care for a little bit of earth, and to make our home there.

A brief description: We bought 11 acres in the town of Caroline, which is about 20 minutes from downtown Ithaca. The land is all wooded: near the road, it's a lot of old apple trees, hawthorn, and multiflora rose. That area is also pretty wet, and more recently disturbed, possibly old pasture. Farther back, the land slopes upward, and it's mostly sugar maples and ash trees, with a few serviceberries, black cherry, beech, and one big red oak. I'm sure there's more to discover, but that's initially what we've found.

Oh, and one of the best parts: the neighbors. Our dear friends Paul, Kathy, Ruby and their chickens live next door. We're excited to collaborate with them on projects and adventures. I can't wait to become a part of the community there.

We've cleared a spot for the yurt, and hope to move it there in the next month or so. I tried uploading pictures, but for some mysterious reason, the library computer won't let me. So you'll just have to come for a visit.

headed toward closing

2009-03-20T07:16:00.000-07:00

Happy first day of spring!

Just a dose of quick news:

I've been through my first full week as an official Field Instructor for Primitive Pursuits. I love it, although I've been spending more time in the forests than in the fields. And probably more time playing than instructing, as well. Go fig.

Through many roller-coaster ups and downs (and not to say we're clear of those), we're headed on Wednesday to sign many papers to officially purchase and close on 11 acres of wooded land in the town of Caroline!

Stay tuned for further tales.

to ether

2009-03-10T07:08:00.000-07:00

http://www.nuvo.net/news/article/memoriam-ethan-runnels

I don't have any words to add to this.
My heart just aches.

Happy Solstice

2008-12-22T07:21:00.000-08:00

We trolls would like to remind you that you've just passed through the darkest night.

you want more pictures?

2008-12-01T19:46:00.000-08:00

Well, okay. A springtime yurt at the Plantsmen.

What?!? Who?!?

Yes, my beloved as the Maker of Mischief at Primitive Pursuits day back in May '08.

My furry yin-yang.

Treetop view of the yurt, photo by Squirrel.

bits and pieces.

2008-12-01T19:13:00.000-08:00

After a season of a little type, and few photos, I will keep my words short, and offer these below.

Enjoy.

When days were warmer.

A visit from some very special creatures. (We found about 7 around the yurt this fall.)

We offer evidence that Ithaca is gorges.

Our new old "Tiny" truck.

An old Sequoia gets a hug from a squirrel and me.

In Yosemite, CA.

Dieter and Jen's beautiful wedding.Some beautiful people I know and love.

Us, gussied up.

Autumn

2008-10-06T12:25:00.000-07:00

Sesonal postings, eh? Maybe I can do that.

Projects are underway, while others are thwarted. This weekend (in preparation for the visit of Kings), Phil made steps up to our deck (replacing the stack of two cinder blocks), a rainwater cachement barrel with spigot (to function as handwashing station), and a new compost bin with opening front (made of wooden pallets). Phil has also invested in his first ever motor vehicle (unless you count the old Vespa): an old Toyota truck. I can't wait to be able to post pictures again, and introduce you to "The Tiny Truck," named after the cool guy we bought it from. (His name is Tiny, not "Truck" or "The," you sillies.)

Our offer on the lovely plot of land in Caroline was rejected, hence the mention of thwarted plans and projects. It seemed perfect in so many ways, and so hopeful that we'd get it. But now we're prayerfully transitioning into looking for what is next. It is a great blessing that we have our spot at the Plantsmen, and no rush to leave its comfort and beauty.

I've been teaching a homeschool program with Primitive Pursuits. I love it. I love the kids, love my co-instructors, love the woods we explore and play in. We've played games, are working on a great water-tight shelter, made Sumac "lemonade," sweet goldenrod tea, fire-roasted day lilly tubers (yum.). We've scaled cliffs, crossed streams, slid back down other cliffs, found feathers and other treasures and mysteries, and we tell stories and work on fire skills. And it's only been a few weeks. Did I mention how fun it is?

My feather and skull collection grows, and my bird-sighting list gets longer.
The world is beautiful enough for a thousand lifetimes.

I'm also still working at the nursery, and Phil is usually doing landscaping. I'm getting better at identifying plant families, and learning my way a little more around the Latin names. I also dare to hope that I may be learning a little about caring for plants and trees, but I'm generally stumped by any quesion a customer asks.

Last night we stayed up listening to a fox barking for a long time. A pileated woodpecker has seemingly moved into the woods nearby, perhaps for the winter. I love hearing his laughter, then looking around for the slow flapping shape overhead.
I've been running (actually jogging, but I like to call it running). I see deer and vultures, squirrels and bluejays, and sometimes a Cooper's hawk or kestrel. We live in such a beautiful area. The sweet tangy autumn-olives came and went, and the ash- and maple-trees are showing their vibrance.
All our wood is stacked and ready for winter, and I feel myself turning inward, in that Autumn way.

Thank you for reading.
Blessings.

eighteen minutes

2008-07-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

After checking my e'mail and printing out necessary papers, I have eighteen minutes remaining at the library computer to tell you what I've been doing these past days.
I hugged a few sequoias in Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks. I hugged a new sister-in-law on her wedding day to my beloved brother, who I also hugged. I met my second cousin Clara, who is perfect. I have lost my dearest great Auntie Mary, my closest extended Chicago relative, a woman who always encouraged me in the pursuit of all my dreams. I'm at the tail-end of a week of camp, preparing for our camp-out in the National Forest. In the past week, we've had weather in the upper 90's, and evenings in the 50's, and while I was in the woods playing games with kids, there was a torrential downpour, which taught me more than the heat or cold.
Phil and I are excitedly and dazedly pursuing a piece of land in the town of Caroline - 10 acres with 2 creeks and woods that include a line of sugar maples (and much more). I turned 29, and bought cheese with truffles to celebrate, and decided I like dill havarti better.
The yurt is good, cats are well, Phil is wonderful, the garden growing plump tomatoes. I'm teaching camp again next week, and will be with a small clan of 5 and 6 year olds, amid a tribe of other older kids.
Blah. Six more minutes. I can't think.
I like trees and creeks better than computers. But I am grateful.

check

2008-06-16T16:45:00.000-07:00

Life is full and rich.
Blogging doesn't fit in right now.
Blessings and beauty, however, are abundant.
I wish the same to you.

times changing

2008-05-19T09:54:00.000-07:00

This is my final week taking care of the twins.
I want to savor every moment, but right now I am suffering from the vicarious agony of their binkies being retired. Sleep is difficult now for them, but just as essential to all of our sanity.

Here is a track. And my hand.

I'm wondering how I'll keep up with this blog once I'm working at either the nursery or in the woods with kids during camp.

Below is a trout lilly blooming.
Our apprenticeship also winds down in a month from now. I'll really miss gathering with these fellow seekers. Here Phil is on a steep hill, pausing on a break of looking up wonderful spring flowers.
Here are Nicole and Steve, who will move here soon. Yea!

Living at the nursery has a lot of perks - flowers everywhere being one of them. This little cultivar found its way into the woods behind the nursery. We don't know much about it, except that it enjoys its wild new life.
Phil. My constant.
After the red maples bloomed, they dropped their vibrant little fireworks in a carpet beneath their limbs. They're often the first to bloom, but this is the first year I ever really even looked at them.
Me.
That's all for now.

Phil turns 24!

2008-05-15T11:15:00.000-07:00

We had a great weekend of celebrating Phil's birthday. Steve and Nicole came up for a visit, and we had a slacklining picnic with bonfire and hot dogs by the pond.

Phil preps the one-match fire.

Solomon gets serious with rock-throwing.Picnic fun!

Here Phil is enjoying his novelty beer from Steve. Yes, folks, it's called a PorkSlap, and Phil insists that it tasted like Sweet Tarts. I also especially like this picture because of Paul's smile in the background.

Joel with Kael, young master of the flirty eyebrows.
On Sunday we went to Salmon Creek Falls. We wanted to swim, but it was still a little cold for that.

Cute Nikki:Phil watching the fishermen below.
Phil in the tempest below.
And here, my mayapples opening up.
There's more! See below, all out of order.

fishfry

2008-05-15T11:06:00.000-07:00

Here Paul and Phil are cooking up some fish from Jeff.

Kathy, relaxing after work with her good dog, Ruby.
These are the Mayapples, back when they were just little green fingers reaching up from the soil.
Toby enjoys some freedom now and then. Actually, now that we've been letting him out, he's gnawing on the door and yowling to go out anytime it's not pouring out. And since it's been a dry spring, that's a lot.

snippets from a vacation day

2008-05-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

Pretty Amy.

Orange hats unite! Winona matches Ithaca very well. We want her back.

Ben, your face is going to stick like that.

The Farmer's Market. Or, if you want to bug Ben, just "Market."

Orange hats looking at Ithaca Falls.
Orange hats on the suspension bridge.

bioregionality

2008-05-15T10:44:00.000-07:00

In Ithaca, Spring is certainly a time of emergence. We now refer to our Saturdays as "vacation days," due to the fun we keep finding. Now, we go to the Farmer's Market, bump into people we know, go somewhere for coffee, pick up the milk share, go hiking, et cetera.

Recently we went on a walk near Cornell along Cascadilla Gorge. There, right next to campus, is a series of several waterfalls. We walked along, exclaiming all along, "I can't believe we LIVE here!"

Phil also took me to Meyer's Point, on the east shore of Cayuga Lake.
Phil explores the driftwood:

I found these stones imbedded in the driftwood roots, lodged there when the tree was upright and growing, now following the wood in its watery travels.
I posed by a lighthouse and thought of Holly Z, and our mutual admiration for all things lighthousey.

skulls & bones

2008-05-14T10:32:00.000-07:00

A while back we went with the apprenticeship to Ithaca College to see a collection of mammal skulls and learn about mammal dentition.
Is it hippsodont or selenodont?

Big eyes, sharp teeth.
Tim holds the mystery.

An array of bones
Comparing tooth wear in two racoons.

Comparing saggital crest and sutures in the same two raccoon skulls.

This trip confirmed to me that I am a nerd for this stuff - I loved it, and couldn't stop talking about it, even to those uninterested. So here, I am posting probably more pictures than anyone cares to see.

Oh well!

lost in the archives

2008-05-09T17:19:00.000-07:00

Some are born great,

some achieve greatness,
and a few...

have greatness hazardously arranged all about them.

(Photos thanks to Nusha)

i guess i was wrong

2008-04-30T10:19:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to say we got a dusting of snow this morning.
So, the snow may be gone again, but it's never that far from us in the Finger Lakes.

I hope all those peepers and blooms did okay in the frost. However, I won't miss the blackflies if they all happen to have expired in the cold.
We tried to do a little fishing in Hammond Hill last weekend, and found ourselves under attack. One friend found some duck eggs, one friend got a black fly in his eyeball, but no one left with any fish.

what IS she doing?

2008-04-24T09:48:00.000-07:00

Since I like posting photos, and lack much computer technology in life, my posts recently have been a lot of past review. I thought maybe I'd write a little here of what is actually going on NOW - although I have no photos to prove it.

The snow is gone. Really gone.

I miss the tracks everywhere - the perfect evidence of our co-inhabitants and neighbors under our noses. Now, I explore every muddy bank and dusty spot for clear prints of passers-by, and I am sometimes rewarded with a baby-hand pawprint of Raccoon, or monkey-thumbed Opossum, or any number of others, identifiable or not.

I have never before been so aware, and so in love with, tree flowers. The ground now is dusted with exquisite red shadows under the red maples, and what looks like little grey squirrel tails under the aspens. Norway maples suprised me with puffball explosions of fragrant green starbursts. The willows are soft and yellow, weeping into ponds and unfurling green.

In front of the yurt, a small forest of umbrella-shaped Mayapples have popped up, and I talk to them every morning and night, and they make me SO happy. I daily nibble trout-lilly, leeks, onion grass, coltsfoot, dandylion, sedums, yum-yum-yum. And that which doesn't delight my tastebuds, delights other senses: trillium, bloodroot, hepatica, snowdrops, and again, many others yet unidentified.

My dwindling days with the twins have been full of sunshine and exploration. Up on Beam Hill, the days seem to be flying by. I realize what a blessing I was given when I linked to this family, and this lovely woodland where they live. I want to remember the backdrop of blue sky, green-tipped tree branches waving overhead, and two wind-whipped blonde heads bent over a babbling creek, watching stones plop into ripples, all the while serenaded by the Pileated woodpecker's laugh.

It's wild - Spring moves in my blood, changing my appeteite, making my legs want to run. At the same time, it stirs in my imagination, gracing nighttime with vivid dreams, and daytime with inspiring daydream adventures. All I want to do is lay in a hammock by the pond all day and be able to hike the whole Finger Lakes trail at the same time. Spring makes it seem like this is possible.

Okay, here's just one outdated photo for this post:

Phil turned 24 last Saturday. We had a hot-dog cookout by the pond, a bonfire, a slackline, and friends. It was so fun, it felt like it was my birthday. I am very grateful for Phil's birth and life. He makes me laugh at everything.

That's all I can think of for an update now. When I try to say what I'm up to, I still tend to write what's going on around me. I guess that means that all the Spring stuff that's going on around me, is the same as what is going on inside me. This is life.

at the cabin

2008-04-23T10:59:00.000-07:00

Near the King cabin in Potter County, northern PA.

A bear went across the valley.

We were blessed enough to see her tracks.

And see where she scratched.

And touched her fur.

tracking is...

2008-04-10T10:43:00.000-07:00

(complete this sentence)

faces I love

2008-04-10T10:21:00.000-07:00

whoopie!

2008-04-10T10:17:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, Ben made whoopie-pies from scratch for all his friends... Suddenly, everyone was overcome by the sugar-crazies!
The end.

they come from a sheltered past

2008-04-09T10:31:00.000-07:00

apprenticeship

2008-04-03T11:01:00.000-07:00

A gathering of stones

At Hawk Circle:

shelter in progress
lashing detailshelter
inside

basswood basket detail

bark canoe

contents of a bird (owl? hawk?) pellet
Phil up a grapevine

a tree of imcomparable beauty

2008-04-02T11:14:00.000-07:00

snips of home in cold

2008-04-02T10:50:00.000-07:00

Winter umbelsthe back pond

iced teasel
middle pond

more umbels and teasel

wood waiting to be let inside.

checking the houses.
yurt interior

a drying rack that Phil made, for over the woodstove
Angelica getting warm and dusty beneath the stove.

Nuts and seeds drying.

rock-boiling tales

2008-03-31T10:20:00.000-07:00

On Saturday and Sunday, Phil and I volunteered at the Cayuga Nature Center's MapleFest. We were stationed at the "Primitive Camp," demonstrating primitive ways to boil sap. We used a large coal-burned log to show the visitors rock-boiling. It was a fun two days, and I think I learned a lot about group-presenting, and rock-boiling. I heard fun stories and great questions that I still ponder.

Initially with rock-boiling, my main fear was exploding rocks. Thankfully, I was well guided in my rock hunt (thank you Tim and Jed), and the rocks held up well. The day went smoothly, the sap boiled on. But, when I got in the car to leave on Sunday afternoon, I glanced in the mirror and saw that I had burned my left eyebrow and eyelashes! And I hadn't even noticed! Although it made me glad I had not let any of the eager kids in the audience attempt to fetch the rocks, it also made me realize (at least on one level), how oblivious I had been all day.

How can I trust myself to stay calm in the face of a real survival situation, if I lose awareness just when eyes and expectations are turned upon me?

signs arriving

2008-03-27T09:10:00.000-07:00

This morning on the drive to work, I saw my first groundhog of the season. (No, I'm not counting the tame one plucked from his stump in Punxatawney.) I was so excited - were it not for morning work time, I would have stopped to welcome the fellow back to sun-side.

At my 6am rising this morning, a robin was singing his little heart out, so loud and close. Other bird voices were in the chorus, although I don't know the composers by the tune.

The red maple buds are swelling.

We made slings recently at Primitive Pursuits. They're real slings (not to be confused with Y-stick slingshots), in the style that David would have used to slay Goliath. So I keep mine in my coat pocket, and toy with my techniques when I spot a tempting stone (or pinecone, or snowball, or hickory nut). There are moments I think I'm getting better, and I think if I had a Goliath-sized target within 12 feet, glued to the spot in fear, he might get a good dent somewhere on his body.

clearing

2008-03-26T10:38:00.000-07:00

For the past week or so, I've been praying and waiting for clarity. In these times of emotional purgatory, I tend to exist outside of the present, still addicted as I am to the demons of Worry and Guilt. Each step ahead in faith leads to sacrifices, and moments of clarity lead us into the unknown. And, often the winds of change are bittersweet.

But, here it is - my update.
(And this I type, and plan for, be it God's will.)
May will be the last month I will be nanny for these lovely children I have been following around for what will be 2 1/2 of their almost 3 years of life.

Then, for a week Phil and I will go on a modified survival camping trip, accompanied by some friends. We'll practice and learn.

For June I will work under sun and clouds, alongside Phil, doing landscaping or nursery work. I'm looking forward to the excercise and fresh air and plants galore.

Then in July I will be a part of the Primitive Pursuits staff. I feel deeply honored by this opportunity to run around the woods with kids and practice fire-making and learn awareness together.

So there's excitement and uncertainty, leaving some people I love to do some things that I love.
This is such a tiny crumb of all that has been percolating in my head, but it is also such a relief to have the choices now made, and the plans as official as they can get.

Spring, the First

2008-03-20T10:43:00.000-07:00

Spring is unfolding slowly this year.
Despite a new inch of snow today, the evidence is still there for those who look: vultures and red-winged blackbirds returned 2 weeks ago, and cardinals have varied their tune. In the Ithaca valley by Cayuga Lake, day lillies are sprouting en masse, hidden beneath the leaf litter. Sap is running. Days are delightfully longer and longer.

a tisket a tasket

2008-03-03T11:30:00.000-08:00

Phil had this basket under the porch. It contained various bones, antlers, and fibers for cordage and crafts. A mouse found it a perfect site to construct a nest.

But, because we're mean (and scared of hanta-virus), we evicted him. But not without first telling him how cute he is and what a nice house he had made.

thaw

2008-03-03T11:12:00.000-08:00

Here we are in central New York, amidst the melting snow, giving way to the budding palm trees...

Just kidding. (ha ha) These are of course pictures from our Florida visit in December. Actually, here in NY it is in the upper 50's, and we've been working on building snow shelters, and the neighbor's igloo is still strong enough to play in with the twins (which we did all morning).

Mischief a'brewing.

Spanish moss.

Manatee skull.

Cute cuz, just 'cuz.

Dieter and Emily.

Phil very excited about wild citrus fruit. We thought they were oranges, but tasted horrible. Maybe just lemons, but they even seemed too sour for that.

Manatee!

Me & Dieter.

I'm starting to make a list of all the things I want to do when the whirlwind of Spring begins. That was nearly damaging, however, as I got really fixated on the idea of opening the windows (which I can't really do fully yet).

I feel too scattered to write much. Maybe later.

EEEclipse!

2008-02-20T10:17:00.000-08:00

That's right.

Tonight: FULL LUNAR ECLIPSE.

Look to the heavens, and pray for clear skies.

don't ask...

2008-02-20T10:14:00.000-08:00

...don't tell.

(thank you, dears.)

to build a fire...

2008-02-18T11:30:00.000-08:00

A cold winter day...
Organize your tribe:

Two-person bowdrill:

Tag-team hand-drill (note the tipi of kindling ready to go):

Solo hand-drill:

Tinder-bundle blowing team:
Precarious cookpot warming our tea:
Let's linger a little longer.

Shindagin Hollow

2008-02-13T11:36:00.000-08:00

These pictures are from a tracking excursion with the apprentices a few months back. The blizzard today inspires me to post these.

Adrian taking measurements.

Jed - totally baffled.

Jason collaborates with Benjamin.
Tracking makes Ben happy.
Tim explores the hole. Non-sequitor of Phil climbing a tree wearing an awesome pack-basket (borrowed from Tim RedBeard) And now, it's time for me to go.

fooding

2008-01-30T10:13:00.000-08:00

Where does your food come from? Who grows your food? Who IS your food? What does your food eat? What kind of life did it have? What kind of death did it have? How far did it travel to get to your plate?

These are questions I consider more and more, the closer I get to the source of my food. Pictured above is a beautiful wild trout gifted to us a while ago, from Jeff.

This past weekend Phil and I helped process 3 fresh roadkill does that Phil had found with our friend, A. We skinned and gutted them Thursday night, cleaned, quartered, divided and packaged their 12 legs on Friday (with the help of several friends), then finished cleaning, de-boning, grinding, and rendering fat on Saturday (with help from others still). It was such a huge task, and we still have so much to learn. At moments we felt drunk and giddy with excitement, and at other times we were angry and depressed with frustration.

The physical process helped begin all the mental and emotional processing necessary. So many questions. How I feel about an animal that I eat changes after I go through the steps of touching its warm blood and thick fur, all the way to seeing the flesh simmering in my cast-iron skillet. It was such a long journey, but it leaves me wondering about the deer's life journey before I met it as a glassy-eyed body.

Yesterday I helped out with the urban program with Primitive Pursuits. It was a great afternoon, and I'm learning to love the kids there. Afterward, A. and I stopped at the Aldi dumpster. We found 2 pineapples, 2 bags of oranges, tomatoes, mushrooms, green peppers, a bouquet of roses, and more. In the trash.

Again, I cook my meal, feeling joy at my discovery and proud of what I'm learning. But then there's also that bitterness at what we're all losing. We're throwing food away. We're throwing lives away.

How do I process this?

The Great Trinity Sycamore

2008-01-16T10:56:00.000-08:00

It's hollow in the center, all the way to the top, where it branches into three living trunks. If you can fit any part of your head through the hole at the bottom, you can seen the light coming through the top, filtered through her branches.

turkey tails

2008-01-16T10:38:00.000-08:00

I love lists and listing. I'm a compulsive to-do lister, and sometimes I write things already done just so I can cross it off. So satisfying.

Our Primitive Pursuits mentors encourage us to make lists of all kinds: lists of questions, lists of observations, lists of possibilities. So, just the other day I decided to start listing each month the birds that I see around the yurt. I'm already up to a species count of nineteen! I think the practice of starting the list and the desire to add to it has even opened my awareness to the birds around us. Exciting recent additions have been a pair of ruffed grouse, a brown creeper, and Phil saw a kestrel this week, in the act of killing a junco! Apparently our attraction to the smaller birds is attracting attention from some of the larger ones as well. I'm grateful for the diversity.

Another mystery solved: The other night Phil and I both woke suddenly, hearing a crash and feeling the yurt shake a little. We were both startled, and Phil looked all around the yurt, inside and out, for the source of the shake and rattle. After a while, with no answer, we started to question the next option: "Are we going crazy?" We'd almost convinced ourselves that it was our imagination, or else a very localized earthquake. Then, just last week, Phil went under the deck to check on some storage. He found that the recent frost and thaw had heaved the posts a little (which are now set on concrete footers, as opposed to sunk into the ground below frostline), pushed them crooked, which had popped a 2x12 plank out from underneath, breaking it off its screws. Hence, our midnight shake and crash!

Thankfully, yurts are relatively light, so even a full collapse couldn't really damage anyone or anything. As it is, we can probably push the deck straight using some brute strength and leverage, and we'll get some bigger lag-bolts to hold it tighter this time.

Now, an ode to my car. Oh, Saturn of plastic blueness! You began a life with me in Chicago, then to the rolling green hills of Lancaster, ferrying me to horseshows and lessons. I drove you to Colorado, pushed the speed limits, returned home with my only ticket ever. I've slept in your trunk, sung loudly out your windows. Now with studded snowtires, you cheerfully start in the sub-zero morning temperatures, and climb the steep and snowy Hammond Hill, getting me to work safely and on time. Out to Florida for your second time, you're now boasting 163,000 miles. I must say, I'm pretty impressed. You share the road with many unworthy.

another treasure

2008-01-14T10:21:00.000-08:00

Out on an adventure with my apprenticeship, my mentor Jed found an owl pellet. Later, I pulled it apart and found this.

The back of the skull is missing, so the creature's head itself would have been a little longer than what we see here. From the black teeth, which are actually able to inject a poison (our only venemous mammal), I can tell this is a short-tailed shrew.

come back!

2008-01-10T10:27:00.000-08:00

c'mon!

SNOW!!!!

(please?)

Longwood Gardens

2008-01-10T10:23:00.000-08:00

My favorite were the tree-sized ferns, and the centuries-old bonsai. Maybe I just like plants in unusual proportions.

FL christmas

2008-01-10T10:18:00.000-08:00

At Auntie Lilla's. At Highland Hammocks State Park,
where we saw a red-shouldered hawk,
and a 1000-yaer-old Live Oak.

lovebirds

2008-01-10T10:12:00.000-08:00

A very heartfelt congratulations to the adorable duo on the right:

Dieter and Jen will be tying the knot in Yosemite this June!

HIP HIP HOORAY!!!!

a favorite revisited

2008-01-07T10:27:00.000-08:00

We really love Salmon Creek Falls. It was starting to freeze up, but with temps in the mid-50's this week, I doubt we'll see solid ice again for a bit.

yurt move, part three and thanksgiving

2008-01-07T10:10:00.000-08:00

Our snow has come and gone. All the glorious white is melting away, so these pictures from November closely resemble what our place looks like now.

From our porch, the greenhouses, although now they're covered.

Nestled amid white and red pines, the birds own this spot.
Getting the feeders up and aquainting ourselves with the neighbors was on the top of our move-in list.
Phil hanging feeders with Aaron.
Now through the dome I see white pines waving in the wind, often with chickadees or goldfinches peering in.

Another step in the experiment, and another angle on the learning curve! Yes, the master composter now has a composting toilet! It's a nice little frame with an oak seat, and a bucket. The human deposits are layered between either peat moss or dry sawdust, and then allowed to decompose for 1 to 2 turns of the seasons. As you can see, Phil and Wil enjoyed the construction project together.

We have an outdoor solar-shower tent, which is too cold to use in the winter (for my taste). But it's perfect for housing the composting toilet.

Instead of a Christmas tree this year, I got a lovely wreath which I covered in nearly all of my ornaments. I loved it, and how it looked and fit into the circular shape of the yurt.

That's also our propane light, last year's Christmas gift from the Kings.

yurt move, parts one and two

2008-01-03T10:32:00.000-08:00

This move of the yurt was in many ways much easier, and in many ways much more difficult. Each chapter of the experiment is humbling and teaches us so much. Each step makes me so grateful for our loving community of friends.

After we took the yurt down (easily managed by a team of five), it took all our human- and brain-power to move the deck. We slid this huge piece down the hill path. And loaded it onto a trailer. It can be done.
And this is the new site, pre-yurt.
Reconstruction in progress.

Decks are much more difficult than yurts. I am so grateful for ours, but daydreamily wonder what we'll do next time.

I'm praying for clarity.

(Stay tuned for pictures of the new site next week.)

a year in clarity

2008-01-03T10:18:00.000-08:00

I put on my wedding dress for our one-year anniversary this past September, inspired probably by Abigail and other lovely brides.

Phil also put on his wedding clothes, though he's fond of wearing them for most special days. My dress is still grey and dirty at the hem from wearing it over the wet and muddy grass on our wedding day. Since then, we've also both had pieces from our special amber necklaces break and crumble, but we still wore them, now held with some gorilla glue.

Phil tried to convince me to wear the outfit to breakfast, but I insisted that no, I'd look too funny. He continued to argue, "But c'mon! You'll look so funny!" No.

My only request was a breakfast and a mimosa. Phil found the place nearly by accident: The Carriage House in Ithaca. It's lovely and small and brick, the furniture being novelities like cast iron stoves covered in glass to be tables, among other antiques. It was really too nice a place to be taking so many pictures, so I shut the flash off and got these blurries.

Phil is delighted with his cappucino art.

Not being one to entertain many New Year's resolutions, but feeling deeply the weight of potential and excitement of a New year, I usually choose a word or mantra for my year. Sometimes it unfolds in the months, sometimes I set it up as my intention.

My prayer is for 2008 to be the Year of Clarity, and my patron will be the Flicker bird, whose voice calls to me from the treetops, "Clear! Clear!"

insulation

2007-12-20T10:56:00.000-08:00

We've been doing a lot of cold-training with our apprenticeship. At least, that's how I think of it. Often, it's just staying outside for a 6-hour stretch, following tracks or identifying trees. Other times, it's more intentional.

One day we shed some of our bulky layers and added as many leaves as we could under our top layer of clothing. These leaves worked well for insulation. There seemed no limit to the amount of leaves you could keep stuffing under your shirt and down your pants! Finally, we had to move on.
Everyone felt like sumo-wrestling scarecrows.
A lot of it is just about learning to be comfortable with all the things outside in the natural world. Sometimes it means familiarizing yourself with the trees or hazards, bugs or elements.

But we knew we were waiting for the next challenge.We played a modified version of the ancient game of lacrosse, and then we were ready for our next step.

cold-training baptism

2007-12-20T10:42:00.000-08:00

We ran and played, and stuffed ourselves with leaves for insulation between two layers of clothing.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Perhaps true, I don't know.
We each dumped a 5-gallon bucket of ice-cold creekwater on someone in the apprenticeship, and in turn each had a bucket dumped on us.
It was snowing a mix of sleet and slush from above.

It was one of those experiences that makes you feel alive, because of a choice you made. We were safe. We knew we would probably not die, or even get hypothermia.
Oh, but it was COLD. For a moment I thought I couldn't breathe and would maybe get up and run away.
This is partly what it is like to really feel the cold, to embrace it and tell it you are trying to KNOW it, to meet it without fear, but with respect.
Since then, I've really enjoyed wearing fewer layers. I find the freedom of movement easier, and so much more comfortable without all that bulk. Also, to simply feel the cold, to acknowledge that it is there, really isn't bad at all. We are getting aquainted.

Then, if I start to shiver, it's a reminder to move along and keep choosing to live. Don't just stand there - look at some tracks, listen for a birdsong, run and feel your legs moving.

to study and hold

2007-12-19T10:39:00.000-08:00

who was it?

Feathers designed for silence.

Eastern Screech.

stoic

2007-12-19T10:34:00.000-08:00

Greg, Phil, and Tyler refused to acknowledge love.

They just kept walking.

!!!

2007-12-19T10:21:00.000-08:00

Phil and I were in Lancaster PA this past weekend for the infamous "King Christmas." Driving around the backroads one afternoon, to find a raw milk farm, I spotted a Bald Eagle (!!!) sitting in a farmer's field, eating a Canada goose!!! We pulled over to watch, and the huge bird took off. As we watched the huge bird winging away, a Sharp Shinned hawk showed up and started dive-bombing the eagle!!! (Sorry for all the exclaimation points, but I was and am still really excited about the encounter.)

It seems late for both the Baldie and the Goose to be still on their migration south.

As we drove away, a gaggle of Amish schoolboys were released from their one-room schoolhouse. They ran across the field toward the goose. When we later returned, the goose was gone.

Sadly, I missed photographing both the eagle and the hawk.

lick brook preserve

2007-12-10T10:04:00.001-08:00

Follow the tracks off the trail,

where ever they may lead...

(thanks to Bex for photos)

letters, journals, blogs

2007-12-06T10:02:00.000-08:00

I'm not writing enough. That is, not as much as I used to. I often blame this blog for distracting me from my journal writing, and thus my thinking. Either way, I am inclined to share here. So here is some thoughs from journals and letters.

I loved the movie, "Into the Wild," and the story, and Alexander. Each time I engage in a discussion about it, and Alex, I am so overwhelmed with just WISHING he had lived. Not to answer our questions, not to settle the mystery, but just to keep loving life and feeling its pains and joys. I really do wish he had lived, even if it had meant we'd never hear his story. But, that said, it brings me to something else. Phil and I are apprenticing with a group called 'Primitive Pursuits', whose mission is to basically introduce people to nature, to show them their connection to all of it, to somehow help them find how much they love it already. So there's that, and there is also the idea of voluntary simplicity, which I have been searching out for myself down wandering roads and amidst outsiders' confusion.

It's true - we need mediums to communicate that not only is the wilderness wonderful, it lacks definition because it is everything. Simplicity isn't just normal (as opposed to crazy), it is lovely and rich. Buying "green" still gets you more stuff, but letting things go can be freeing.

So now i'm rambling. More and more these days my only prayer is telling God that i'm waiting for clarity. I guess I'm trying to tell him that I'll keep fighting what I think is the good fight, keep following my convictions, but I can't see what's next. But really, that's okay. I trust what he says in (i think) Isaiah - Whether you turn to the left or the right, you'll hear a voice behind you saying, "This is the way. Walk in it."
No matter what choices I make, he'll keep nudging me along toward the next step. He'll be there. I wholly believe that.

text only

2007-11-28T11:20:00.000-08:00

The only, and I mean the ONLY thing, that I didn't get checked off my to-do list over the weekend was downloading photos at the library. Oh, that and taking the car to the shop.

Which is to say that it was a very productive, although unusual Thanksgiving weekend.

By Tuesday we had the yurt up at the Plantsmen Nursery, at our new spot nestled amid red and white pine trees. But with cold weather around the corner, we made the decision to stay home for the weekend to get the woodstove anchored and the fires stoked. So, Turkey Day found us out in freezing rain, listening to the "Into the Wild" soundtrack, putting up oodles of bird-feeders, but mostly putting up the woodstove-pipe and flashing.

The Waldens invited us for dinner, but we cancelled at the last minute (stove still wasn't ready), but finally started a fire at 4:30pm, and the outdoor temp was around 20 degrees. Oh, the comforts of home! We got cozy for a bit, then headed to town around 8pm to see where we could find turkey.

Unconventional holidays are always such an adventure. Usually, there's the predictable itinerary of traditions: mom makes dinner, you chat with the folks, you stuff youself silly, etc. But last week held the exciting uncertainty of: WHO will feed us? WHAT will we do?

The answer: After a bit of wandering, Kilpatrick's Irish Bar downtown. Free range turkey, and all the gourmet fixin's! We were giddy, then we were tired.

Since then, all the picures are hung, the curtains are up, the furniture is newly arranged, and it feels settled. We don't have our freezer any more, but the cold weather suits food storage just fine. There's a tap in the heated greenhouse (so it shouldn't freeze) where we can get water for washing. It's well water that smells and tastes sulfuric, but loses that quality when left open overnight. We've been making treks 5 miles toward town to the YMCA for showers and saunas and swimming. When we rented our lockers for the year, we felt pretty well moved in.

We still need to purchase or scrounge firewood for the winter, but since we only burned 3 face-cords (I always forget what that equals in real cords) last year, we should be able to find good sources. We got a tip for another lumber miller that will probably sell small untreated board ends. That's also where we hope to get our shipment of sawdust. Why sawdust? For the upcoming composting toilet! Stay tuned - it's going to be great.

Last weekend we also found that the new Lansing Gimme! Coffee shop was opened. Gimme is a local coffee roaster, and that's a treat that's hard to pass by.

minding our manners

2007-11-15T11:30:00.000-08:00

Excerpted from: Traditional Yurt Etiquette, by Paul King

When entering the yurt it is considered impolite to step on the threshold or to hold onto the ropes.
The traditional greeting offered by the visitor consists of four questions: "Are you well?"
"Is your family well?"
"Are your cattle/sheep fat?"
"Is the grass good?"
The answer to each of these questions is "yes," whatever the reality.

There are a number of rules which guests should follow.
All weapons should be left outside.
Do not step on the threshold,
do not point your feet at or put rubbish on the fire.
Do not sit with your back to the altar,
do not whistle,
do not write in red pen,
do not step over older people
or point a knife at anyone.
One should take at least a little of any food or drink offered.
When offered arak or vodka, flick a small amount to the sky, the wind and the earth before drinking.

primitive camp-out

2007-11-12T10:40:00.000-08:00

It was probably about 25 degrees Saturday night. Our apprenticeship group had converged in Enfield to practice primitive shelters, and put them to the test overnight. Everyone made debris huts, comprised of sticks, boughs, and leaves.

This is partway through the building, Phil's on the left, mine on the right.

Throughout the night, I pondered over what I was to learn, what I was to carry away. In fact, I still am.

Tim challenged us to consider our roles as we carry these stories away. He said that we are the representatives for a lot of the people we know, some who will never do these things.

Around 2am, after shivering in my shelter for only an hour, I went to the fire with Phil to try to warm up. In an hour of testing, I learned that 7 hours of shelter-building in the wrong spot with wet leaves had been useful for holding very little of my body heat. It's true - inside my debris hut was warmer than the 20-something temperature under the stars. It was a good structure. But it was still very cold. I sat out the rest of the night tending the fire.

Some from our group lasted longer, a few even sleeping until sunrise.

Every shelter is different, every night out is different. I am eager to try this again, although I know that conditions will never be exactly the same, and thus I can't really correct the mistakes I made. I wish I had had more success, and I admit to being disappointed in myself for my bad decisions. I am grateful however, for all that I learned from the weekend. I am grateful for the fire, and for the first robin who sang to greet the sunrise, and for the ones who have come before us and those who pass on their wisdom.

Here's Phil with a roadkill faun we picked up in Trumansburg a month ago. We'd tried to defrost it for the weekend, but the cold temperatures didn't thaw it as quickly as we'd hoped. Tim carved some neckmeat out for us, but the coveted backstraps were frozen blocks of muscle.

(Thanks to Bex for photos.)

yurt, anyone?

2007-11-08T09:58:00.000-08:00

Dear friends,

Greetings and salutations!
Phil and I have accepted the invitation to care-take the land at the Plantsmen Nursery for the winter season. We're really excited about the opportunities there, and also about taking another step in the yurt experiment.

So, the big move is scheduled for Saturday Nov. 17th and Sunday the 18th. This is all hands on deck - literally, as we'll be trying to move the yurt and the deck under the yurt. Anyone that wants to come lend a hand will surely receive their rewards in heaven. And our eternal gratitude, of course. And it'll be fun, c'mon!

E'mail me before the 15th, or call our cell for details.

And of course, stay tuned for updates.

salute goodbye to the green...

2007-11-07T11:11:00.000-08:00

...and welcome the white season with an embrace.

blast

2007-11-07T10:51:00.000-08:00

This is from a hike earlier in the summer, obviously.

Today it is snowing. Balls of wet snow in varying sizes are falling to earth at equally varying speeds. Last night the wind whipped past the yurt so fiercely, I'd almost expect it to blow down, had it not withstood other storms of greater gustings. Phil and I walked uphill along the blackberry trail. From up there, we could look down at the glowing warmth emanating from the yurt.

"We're so lucky that that's our home."

This is Tyler and Greg (our herbalist friends) with Phil, also during warmer times. Soon they'll be headed to warmer places, and I'll miss them much.

I want to show you how grey and November-ish it is here right now, but I don't have any recent photos.