Leaves in luscious moss

Leaves in luscious moss

Oh my, oh my.  Sometimes I just sit down at this computer and think “There’s nothing to write about, absolutely nothing to say”.  This is one of those nights.  I feel like I’ve been babbling every single night for seven and a half months.  What possibly could be left to say?  What story left to tell?

So then my job is to ignore the voice who insists there’s nothing to say…and start typing.  To see what comes out.  To see what the encounter with the outdoors wants to share.

Really need to buy Harvey's book to positively identify this.

Really need to buy Harvey's book to positively identify this. Think it's knapweed

So I started walking up the road this afternoon, planning to visit a woods I named Marantha many years ago.  I was going to share all about one of my favorite special places in the woods with you.  How she was razed, logged, scarred and cut many years ago.  How I agonized over her logging.  But then suddenly…it sounded all too familiar.  And finally it occurred that the blog about Marantha had already been written.  Remember the photo of the porcupine’s rear end quivering in his winter quarters?  Click here for a memory refresher.

So the story had already been told.  But the story of this summer day, August 3rd, 2009 had not been told.  And a new story is born every day.  Every minute.  If we but open our eyes to look.

Here is a summertime view of where the porcupine lives in winter.

Here is a summertime view of where the porcupine lives in winter.

The porcupine, of course, is nowhere to be seen.  Off cavorting in trees or raising babies or sticking quills in intruders, perhaps.  There were plenty of chipmunks dashing to and fro.  And chickadees, woodpeckers and other assorted songbirds.  Mosquitoes galore, although none biting viciously unless you sat lazily on a log in the sun for an extended amount of time, listening.  Lots of flies.  No wood ticks, though.  They’ve mostly disappeared from the woodland scene in early August. 

Red leaf green leaf

Red leaf green leaf

If you carry a jar or yogurt container, there are lots of raspberries in this woods.  After the forest trees fell, raspberry bushes grew up in the openings.  I picked at an easy pace, enjoying a juicy red berry in between collecting them for tomorrow morning’s breakfast.  The temperature actually reached 75 degrees today, so it felt hot again. 

Big hemlocks in Marantha (in a mostly unlogged area)

Big hemlocks in Marantha (in a mostly unlogged area)

When you return home after walking an hour or two in a special woods, letting your feet determine where they want to go, wandering here and there, you will feel so energized and alive.  As if the forest has taught you things in her silence.  The forest tells stories, but not in words.  She speaks in the language of moss, flowers, bark, mosquitoes, ferns and raspberries.

Tendrils of earth cling to the roots of an uprooted tree

Tendrils of earth cling to the roots of an uprooted tree

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