Enter the Edwin M. Griffin Nature Preserve from Woodburn, cross the field and take the left branch of the Cottonwood Trail. The path will take you through bushes and grasses growing taller than your head alongside a small stream. There will be the mailbox on a post with a sign that says, "Fish Show". The door has been broken off the box for a long time now. Inside there used to be a supply of Saltines in a plastic bag with instructions to crumble some and throw them in the nearby pool. Look at the place where the sun shines on the water and soon you will see minnows swimming up to the surface to nab the crackers.
Today I replaced the long absent crackers. I put them inside a plastic tube with instructions and put that inside the mailbox.
There are minnows in the wetlands water and there is a graceful tree with white blossoms at the very top of the Highland Trail.
It is still cold, high today 53. In the mountains, it is still snowing. Sunday will be Easter.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
March 22, 2013 The Disappeared and the Trickster
Outside on this cold rainy morning with the Bradford Pears huge white and fluffy as clouds in full bloom, the dogs are going wild. They can hardly stand still with their feet bouncing off the ground, their excited barking breaking the still morning.
With my eyes, I follow the direction they are pointing and there in the woods on the other side of a fallen tree is the red trickster. He has something behind that log. I have not seen Big Cat for a month now and Faded Glory has been gone since before Christmas.
I put on my boots and trek through the woods to that spot behind the log, but there is nothing there that I can see.
The Coyotes are here now. I have seen them race across the road. I have heard their hooting calls up and down the creek. They have come with the armadillos and the fire ants. They are a spirit animal of the Native Americans, the joker, the trickster, the one who stole fire from the gods and gave it to man. They are the mediator animal between life and death.
With my eyes, I follow the direction they are pointing and there in the woods on the other side of a fallen tree is the red trickster. He has something behind that log. I have not seen Big Cat for a month now and Faded Glory has been gone since before Christmas.
I put on my boots and trek through the woods to that spot behind the log, but there is nothing there that I can see.
The Coyotes are here now. I have seen them race across the road. I have heard their hooting calls up and down the creek. They have come with the armadillos and the fire ants. They are a spirit animal of the Native Americans, the joker, the trickster, the one who stole fire from the gods and gave it to man. They are the mediator animal between life and death.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
March 20, 2013 The Influenza Terrorists
My mother told me that in the great flu epidemic of the 1920's, she saw caskets stacked on top of each other at the Charlotte Train Station. You have to be aware that this virus kills people.
Sergay and Eliza performed as Patch and Pepper in 101 Dalmations Friday night and then on Saturday we went to the Charlotte St. Patrick's Day Parade.
The terrorists came secretly in the dark, dressed in black from head to their little steel toed black boots with which they kicked me in my ribs, behind my knees, in my chest. They stuffed cotton in my throat and taped my mouth with invisible duct tape. They poured poison in my ears as they did Hamlet's father. I was hit by a load of bricks they dumped from their land rover.
No matter, the doctor said, that I didn't take the flu shot. It worked in only 36% of the cases. And the swab from my nose which tested negative, works only 50% of the time. He gave me three kinds of medicine: tamaflu, amoxicillin and cough syrup with hydrocodone. I lie on the couch and drink orange juice and then I lie on the couch and drink orange juice. They say medicine is not a science; it is an art. As we learn more, it seems that science is not a science.
There is a new pope, St. Francis from Sao Paolo.
The Flycatcher is still sitting on her nest, warming her eggs.
There is snow in the mountains.
Tonight there will be a hard freeze.
Sergay and Eliza performed as Patch and Pepper in 101 Dalmations Friday night and then on Saturday we went to the Charlotte St. Patrick's Day Parade.
The terrorists came secretly in the dark, dressed in black from head to their little steel toed black boots with which they kicked me in my ribs, behind my knees, in my chest. They stuffed cotton in my throat and taped my mouth with invisible duct tape. They poured poison in my ears as they did Hamlet's father. I was hit by a load of bricks they dumped from their land rover.
No matter, the doctor said, that I didn't take the flu shot. It worked in only 36% of the cases. And the swab from my nose which tested negative, works only 50% of the time. He gave me three kinds of medicine: tamaflu, amoxicillin and cough syrup with hydrocodone. I lie on the couch and drink orange juice and then I lie on the couch and drink orange juice. They say medicine is not a science; it is an art. As we learn more, it seems that science is not a science.
There is a new pope, St. Francis from Sao Paolo.
The Flycatcher is still sitting on her nest, warming her eggs.
There is snow in the mountains.
Tonight there will be a hard freeze.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
March 7,8,9, and 10, 2013 Edisto Oh Edisto
The raccoons are fat this year, the crabs are crafty, the deer bound across the road, a group of ibis perch on the dock and the mysterious and kind dolphin glide below us. The dock is getting old and creaking, singing a song about the tide, the dolphins and the fish going in and out. There are white pelicans who usually live on the West Coast and Texas as well as the brown native pelicans we know so well. Purple finches chatter in the palms skirting the dunes. We walk the beach and build castles, gather shells. We walk to the Indian mound.
In our souls, we are home.
Frogmore Stew
Get a big pot (several gallons)
Add several inches of water and a bag of Old Bay Seasoning
Add a dozen red potatoes (or more) cut into pieces
Bring to boil and cook about 5 minutes
Add sausage cut into pieces (turkey for us)
Add at least a dozen ears of corn
In the last five minutes add a pound or two of shrimp in their shells (you can devein if you wish, but really not necessary)
Drain (it may take two people as it is heavy)
Pour onto newspapers covering picnic table
Serve with toasted french bread and cocktail sauce. Have plenty of paper towels.
Very good with beer.
P.S. The special tree in the marsh is decorated with primary colored Easter Eggs the size of small footballs.
In our souls, we are home.
Frogmore Stew
Get a big pot (several gallons)
Add several inches of water and a bag of Old Bay Seasoning
Add a dozen red potatoes (or more) cut into pieces
Bring to boil and cook about 5 minutes
Add sausage cut into pieces (turkey for us)
Add at least a dozen ears of corn
In the last five minutes add a pound or two of shrimp in their shells (you can devein if you wish, but really not necessary)
Drain (it may take two people as it is heavy)
Pour onto newspapers covering picnic table
Serve with toasted french bread and cocktail sauce. Have plenty of paper towels.
Very good with beer.
P.S. The special tree in the marsh is decorated with primary colored Easter Eggs the size of small footballs.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
March 5, 2013 Return to Sesquicentennial
Sesqui is located at 9564 Two Notch Rd., Columbia, SC 29223.
Last summer I was lost on the six mile Mountain Bike Trail on a very hot day when I met another hiker who was also lost.
Today I took the Sandhills Hiking Trail circling the 30 acre lake. The lake is owned by flocks of Canadian Geese who are permanent residents here. When I was a child, Canadian Geese actually lived in Canada and came down here and there to winter in the South. I remember traveling to a lake in North Carolina to see the geese who spent the cold months there. Now the geese have given up their Canadian citizenship and don't bother to travel anymore. Their honking is very loud. They are tame and even aggressive to picnicers who they expect to feed them. They may even hop on to your table.
Today there are three mallards on the lake as well.
There is a cold light rain but I am shaded by trees including water oaks and breathing in the icy air feels very good.
Fox squirrels and pileated woodpeckers live here as well, but are in their lairs, burrows and retreats out of the rain.
Last summer I was lost on the six mile Mountain Bike Trail on a very hot day when I met another hiker who was also lost.
Today I took the Sandhills Hiking Trail circling the 30 acre lake. The lake is owned by flocks of Canadian Geese who are permanent residents here. When I was a child, Canadian Geese actually lived in Canada and came down here and there to winter in the South. I remember traveling to a lake in North Carolina to see the geese who spent the cold months there. Now the geese have given up their Canadian citizenship and don't bother to travel anymore. Their honking is very loud. They are tame and even aggressive to picnicers who they expect to feed them. They may even hop on to your table.
Today there are three mallards on the lake as well.
There is a cold light rain but I am shaded by trees including water oaks and breathing in the icy air feels very good.
Fox squirrels and pileated woodpeckers live here as well, but are in their lairs, burrows and retreats out of the rain.
Monday, March 4, 2013
March 3, 2013 Bigfoot and Steel Butterflies
A sharp chill on the muddy Cottonwood Trail. The water in the wetlands and in the creek is a mix of green and burnt ocher and very clear.
I can see a ten foot sculpture of giant red, blue and yellow butterflies through the leafless trees at a back street entrance to the trail.
And here in the muddy path is the huge bare human footprint at least 12 inches long. When I return to the car, there is a youth in sunshades and cap sitting in the open rear of his SUV and on his feet are the running shoes shaped like human feet.
Outside my second floor bedroom window in the early morning, there was a small flock of cedar waxwings
(or Bohemian waxwings usually native to the Northwest) feasting on the berries of the privet.
I can see a ten foot sculpture of giant red, blue and yellow butterflies through the leafless trees at a back street entrance to the trail.
And here in the muddy path is the huge bare human footprint at least 12 inches long. When I return to the car, there is a youth in sunshades and cap sitting in the open rear of his SUV and on his feet are the running shoes shaped like human feet.
Outside my second floor bedroom window in the early morning, there was a small flock of cedar waxwings
(or Bohemian waxwings usually native to the Northwest) feasting on the berries of the privet.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
March 2, 2013 A Woodpecker After Snow
The temperature hovered around 32 degrees with wet snow falling. By mid morning, it had stopped. The sky was full of great puffed water color clouds, white and heavy with gray rain, the blue peeking through. A small Downy Woodpecker was hopping and pecking on branches by the trail.
At home I found a little notebook from the summer of 2001 in which I had written down the birds I had seen while sitting on the back porch at dawn drinking my tea. Here are a few of the notes:
"6-24-01: Clear, chickadees, tufted titmouse, cardinals, squirrel in bird feeder.
Rain in the night, ending at 6:00 am, constant low rumbling thunderstorms.
6-30-01 Fair, warm, blue jay at the bird bath, brilliant mountain bluebird.
7-20-01 Rain off and on, cardinals, chickadees, titmouse, yellow goldenshower roses, coral honeysuckle, trumpet vine, fushia
8-9-1 going to be hot. 25 to 30 geese honking loudly flying over
8-11-01 hummingbird, great blue heron flying squawking across the dead trees,
dead female cardinal in picnic shelter, American goldfinch
8-17-01 Amazing male cardinal (?), colored like a parrot, blue feathers on his back, at the bird feeder for a long time in the evening about 8:00 pm after a short rain storm and a beautiful rainbow: I could see both ends!
8-25-01 Last night I heard the hoot owl. A hummingbird only feet away at the butterfly bush
9--10-01 Cloudy, rain during the night, fog, 2 great blue herons, squawking at the moment of dawn, hummingbird, cardinal, chickadee, geese flying over down the creek
9--17-01 cool and clear before dawn, black dark, bright stars, the big dipper, titmouse, wisps of clouds
9-24-01 Rain, gentle all night. I have reseeded and put fertilizer on the lawn. Heron squawking and rising just before dawn. Heavy downpour at 7:00 am."
I remember that in the mornings, I would hear the squawking at the moment of the breaking of the light of dawn. A while later I would see one or two great blue herons rise into the sky and fly overhead. In time, I connected the squawking with the pair of herons.
When it gets warm again this year, I plan to go back to my little book and begin to record the events of dawn again. Perhaps the herons still cry and fly out in their morning ritual. Once I saw a red winged black bird and once a painted bunting.
At home I found a little notebook from the summer of 2001 in which I had written down the birds I had seen while sitting on the back porch at dawn drinking my tea. Here are a few of the notes:
"6-24-01: Clear, chickadees, tufted titmouse, cardinals, squirrel in bird feeder.
Rain in the night, ending at 6:00 am, constant low rumbling thunderstorms.
6-30-01 Fair, warm, blue jay at the bird bath, brilliant mountain bluebird.
7-20-01 Rain off and on, cardinals, chickadees, titmouse, yellow goldenshower roses, coral honeysuckle, trumpet vine, fushia
8-9-1 going to be hot. 25 to 30 geese honking loudly flying over
8-11-01 hummingbird, great blue heron flying squawking across the dead trees,
dead female cardinal in picnic shelter, American goldfinch
8-17-01 Amazing male cardinal (?), colored like a parrot, blue feathers on his back, at the bird feeder for a long time in the evening about 8:00 pm after a short rain storm and a beautiful rainbow: I could see both ends!
8-25-01 Last night I heard the hoot owl. A hummingbird only feet away at the butterfly bush
9--10-01 Cloudy, rain during the night, fog, 2 great blue herons, squawking at the moment of dawn, hummingbird, cardinal, chickadee, geese flying over down the creek
9--17-01 cool and clear before dawn, black dark, bright stars, the big dipper, titmouse, wisps of clouds
9-24-01 Rain, gentle all night. I have reseeded and put fertilizer on the lawn. Heron squawking and rising just before dawn. Heavy downpour at 7:00 am."
I remember that in the mornings, I would hear the squawking at the moment of the breaking of the light of dawn. A while later I would see one or two great blue herons rise into the sky and fly overhead. In time, I connected the squawking with the pair of herons.
When it gets warm again this year, I plan to go back to my little book and begin to record the events of dawn again. Perhaps the herons still cry and fly out in their morning ritual. Once I saw a red winged black bird and once a painted bunting.
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