I am enjoying a few days with my family in South Jersey. One morning this road sign caught my eye. I never noticed it here before so I think it is new since the last time I visited in early Sept. The sign made me think about my family's presence here in the Pine Barrens. Gatto is my paternal grandmother's maiden name. My great-grandfather, Francesco Gatto has been here since he and his wife, Cecelia came from Italy in 1882. He cleared the land, by hand and planted black diamonds, a blackberry with large thorns, and dewberries. My grandfather Thomas Neil came back here from Waterford, NJ after marrying my grandmother, Amy. So here is the intersection of Gatto and Neil Roads and a slice of our history on this land. I am not sure who owned the land before my Gatto relatives, but for thousands of years, the Lenni-Lenape Native peoples lived in what we call New Jersey. They were hunters and agriculturalists. Unfortunately, they were driven off by European settlers. My dad would fi
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Showing posts from 2020
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Yesterday I went snowshoeing with a friend at a local preserve- the Lisha Kill. The woods was deep in snow- over three feet of it. Whiteness spoke from everywhere - the towering hemlocks, the leaf-bare oaks, and every fallen tree. Blue sky broke in among the topmost branches. Sunlight filtered down, dancing on the white boughs. But it was a cold, white world. Silence blanketed the woods deeper than the snow. Everywhere we looked we were "whelmed- over" by the beauty of this winter woods. At times like these, I know that poetry suits me better than prose. I was reminded of a poem I wrote on another winter hike and I share it here: Silent stories in the snow of mice and men and creatures in between. Common tales of tiny prints, seeking shelter, seeking food. Long shadows cast: tree and bush weave their yarns. Snows drift in flowing waves- voiceless myths embrace the land. Ice holds council with rock in hushed whispers, shares the lore of eons pas
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On a hike in the Bozen Kill Preserve, we came across a Rhododendron plant. I was surprised because these shrubs are cultivated and not usually found in the woods. Their cousins, the laurels, are found in wooded places. These flowers are stunning - bundles of white cups trimmed in pink. Their scent is absolutely heady and I have been transported on many June hikes to Nirvana by just standing and taking in the delicious smell! Well, here is new learning for me - it seems that rhododendrons and laurel are " Often mistaken for one another, mountain laurel and rhododendron are flowering, evergreen shrubs that share more similarities than differences. These plants are often found growing side-by-side in wooded, mountainous areas throughout the eastern United States." ( https://homeguides.sfgate.com/difference-between-mountain-laurel-rhododendrons-67203.html) So there goes my theory of cultivated and wild! But the wonder of this plant was its green leaves in the midst of a blea
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Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Prayer: Gratitude Is Eternal. (adapted from https://indiancountrytoday.com) As this day of Thanksgiving dawns, the words of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Thanksgiving Prayer can echo deeply within us. Beginning with all people and progressing to the Earth Mother, Grandmother Moon and Big Brother Sun, the prayer pays homage to everything that sustains us. It reminds us to take care of these things and through that, ourselves and each other. The address is very long. It is used not only for Thanksgiving Day but at Native gatherings. When the people gather, they begin with gratitude. “Today we get together to remind ourselves that we were given a responsibility to live in balance and harmony with one another and with all the living things of Mother Earth,” the prayer begins. “We think of the people we met and the ones we haven’t met as yet. We remember that all of the people who live on every part of Mother Earth are all connected, related and bound toge
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This morning I took a walk in Central Park which is close to my home. It is a "poetry" morning - I can see Haikus everywhere in the lowering clouds and trees giving forth their last bit of color. The feel is soft- warm; Fall wants to be gentle today until the rain comes in later. I walked past a few Sycamore trees and my eye caught the underside of a huge leaf. I walked by. But then the leaf called out to me, "Come back, pay attention, I want to tell you something!" It is a huge leaf (20" across!) and I thought of the story it could tell, so I picked it up. The first story it told was about what we share in common. The veins in the leaf were so distinctive, they bulged up and fanned out. I looked at the back of my hand- my veins too are bulging as they fan out. A sign of aging hands. The leaf told a story of color - green and yellow had given way to brown. There is blessing in this process of budding leaf, to summer bright green, to Fall yellow. There is bles
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Last weekend a friend of mine and I went to the Adirondacks. I haven't been there for a while, but it always feels like a homecoming, like visiting the house of an old friend. No matter what is happening in the world, Giant Mountain guards the Keene Valley, the Ausable River runs from the Lake under Route 73 and Chapel Pond is more glorious than any cathedral I have ever visited. We decided to hike from South Meadow to the Marcy Dam, which actually was wiped out by Hurricane Irene, but will always mark that spot which is the gateway to many of the high peaks. It is a very modest hike, but my friend is very patient and I am ecstatic to be hiking in the Adirondacks. The path is really along a road of sorts. I say of sorts because it is probably just enough road to accommodate emergency vehicles and trail crews. The path is lined with woods - deciduous trees that have given up their leaves and sturdy conifers who stand in green hope all year long. The road is crisscrossed with some
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Today I took a Sunday walk through the Reist Preserve that is about five minutes from my home. It is the perfect Fall day. Gentle sunlight was filtering through the trees and touching the leaves making them shimmer in yellow, red, and orange. That light seemed to be the very fingers of Creator reaching down to remind me of the love and care that fills creation. Leaves carpeted the forest floor giving color and texture and the dear crunch that comes making music under my feet. Then I saw one of my favorite trees - witch hazel. I usually make a pilgrimage to these woods in Autumn to see this flowering tree. Today, I had forgotten about it until I got on the trail. Last year I found a few trees and now I couldn't remember where I had spotted them. But now I was in awe before a whole stand of them right in front of me! The flowers are so delicate- they look like small yellow stars at the end of each branch and twig. To get under the limbs and look up at the flowers with the backgroun
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I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted! In the meantime, summer has slipped into Autumn, the moon has been full, birds are migrating and leaves are changing. Nature is always in flux, always working, always resting, always Being. This Fall seems to have such vibrant colors! It seems that the cold snap we had set the sugars and is helping to really make the colors pop! I went for a hike in the Albany Pine Bush on Sunday and I was amazed that the understory was a blaze of reds, orange, copper and yellow. The sumacs are such a deep burgundy! Virginia creeper is a lovely red. The Asian bittersweet (a really terrible invasive) is awash in yellow and soon its berries will be a vibrant orange. The maples are beginning to turn- there are some striking ones that are tri-colored now! I will have to wait a while for my favorite - the copper oaks that hold their leaves til the very end of winter. Sumac is another favorite of mine. The leaves are so incredibly scarlet and t
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Hiking in the Albany Pine Bush has been fascinating! There are so many species of plants. Yes, some are invasives and they need to be cut and weeded out. This is a terrible job considering that things like Asian bittersweet are choking out native plants and smothering bushes and even trees! But the battle to stop the invasives so that native plants can thrive continues and it is well worth it! For example, we found Dotted Horsemint. Just a couple of plants by the side of the trial. I emailed the Albany Pine Bush Commission to find out what it was because I couldn't find it in my wildflower book. The woman who responded described it so well, she said, "I really do love the pale purple color of the modified leaves around the flower whorls." Yes, it was amazing! On another hike, we saw whole patches of the horsemint. The open fields were covered with so many varieties of plants and the horsemint stood out as it turned from purple to white in its "aging" proce
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Summer flowers are bursting out everywhere! The roadsides are lined with colors and textures of the many wildflowers: the periwinkle blue of chickory, the soft white of Queen Anne's Lace, the pearly pink of swamp milkweed, the sunshine yellow of bird's foot trefoil, the bouncy orange of tiger lilies. Summer flowers are boisterous! They shout their presence, unlike the fragile and quiet Spring wildflowers that must be pursued, like a hide and seek game, in the understory of the woods. Many of the flowers of Summer are like flags waving me down: Joe-Pye weed that can be taller than I am, huge purple thistle and goldenrod. I need to pay more attention to these Summer flowers. In the Spring I often take out a magnifying lens and look deeply into the heart of fringed polygala or spring beauties. But now I give a cursory glance as I caught myself doing yesterday on a walk. Pause I say to myself, look deeply, see the color and texture, notice the bees rolling blissfully in the heart
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Today I took a hike with a friend to the Landis Arboretum in Esperance. The Arboretum is a celebration of trees and plants, but the trees really had this special magnetism. There were so many species! The diversity of trees is one of the wonders of the world. There were many species of oaks, conifers, crabapples, beeches, maples, aspens - the list goes on. Old-growth trees have an incredible attraction to me. We didn't take the Old Growth Forest Trail today, but we did meet some amazing oaks along the Woodland Trail. The most stunning of all was Big Red, a towering red oak that is over 300 years old. I grasped the tree in both hands and held my head to its sinewy bark. There is a wisdom in an old tree, a wisdom that speaks of hardships and great times, of harsh, icy winters and glorious Spring rains. This wisdom knows how to hold on, to stand tall, to be patient. This tree could tell many stories; this tree has seen many things. The roots of this oak are as deep and wide as the can
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There are many "rites" of summer! One of these is picking strawberries and enjoying all the tasty ways to enjoy them - shortcake, over ice cream, just cut and sugared, and right out of the field! I must say that this excitement about picking anything doesn't catch me right away. As an ol' farmer, any kind of picking is never about a few quarts for home use, but picking and packing for the market. So I need to reframe and get in the upbeat, I only need to fill this four-quart container mood! Off we went to a local orchard. I won't mention the name because we had to pay a $5 cover charge and $6.73 a quart, which seemed a bit much since we couldn't use our own quarts but had to pick in theirs. No way was the container 4 quarts! We gave the benefit of the doubt to the farmer, because it's hard making a go of it! So then there's berry picking in times of Covid-19: don your mask and gloves and no eating in the field. I was hot and bothered, especially by
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Wow, time flies! I can't believe I haven't written since the end of May! But here I am in summer, not my favorite season for sure. The Spring wildflowers are bloomed and setting seeds. The summer flowers - hawkweed, phlox, honest, joe-pye weed, asters, and milkweed are not out yet. The birds are a challenge to find in trees that are full-leafed. So where to pay attention? The other day I was lying in the hammock on our back porch. The sky was deep blue. I was watching the wind rustle the leaves. I felt like I was in a treehouse! The crows and starlings were making a racket! Squirrels ran up and down our neighbor's maple and across the garage roof. I reflected on my favorite summer past time - sitting (or lying) in the shade and enjoying the being of summer. No need to do anything unless it's reading a good book and nibbling on snacks. I love to take in the sights and sounds, enjoy a breeze, feel the sunshine on my skin. Be. Yes, summer does have some lovely moments!
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I have been visiting my family this week and I am enjoying all the sights and sounds of the Jersey Pine Barrens. Lady Slippers, Pine Barrens False Heather (although I am loath to call any flower false!), sheep laurel, mountain laurel, huckleberries, lance leaf violet just to name a few of the amazing diversity of the Pine not- barrens! What has really thrilled me is the nightly call of the Eastern whip-poor-will. You can set your watch by them - every night at about nine pm. I have never seen one. They are nocturnal and so well camouflaged that they are extremely hard to spot. But they make themselves heard! The nightly concert reminds me of my childhood - lying in bed and being lulled to sleep by their song. Now the chorus is a lot smaller. I wonder where they have gone. Habitat has shrunk; there are more feral cats; there are a lot more chemicals to poison the bugs they eat. Because of these threats, the bird is listed as near threatened on the IUCN Red List. This saddens me, but I
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This Spring I have been reflecting a lot on dandelions. Their bright yellow faces have cheered me. Their hardiness and resilience have encouraged me. They are everywhere and so taken for granted! They are mowed down, poisoned with weed killer, dugout, and defamed. But children love them and relish picking fistfuls. The abundance fills a child's heart and imagination. My favorite way to enjoy dandelions is to eat them! First of all, there is the wonderful memory of "picking" them with my Grandmom Jule. She would never get them around the house, even though there were tons because there were too many dogs in the neighborhood. This wasn't an exaggeration because at one time the dogs outnumbered the people in our area. So we would go to the corner of the farm, back near the woods in the six acres of asparagus my dad raised and we would pick them. Now, this had to be done in a certain way! One took a knife and with surgical precision, inserted it into the ground nea
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The wildflowers are up and working through the leaf litter and duff to delight the woods. This weekend I went to the Shrine of the North American Martyrs in Auriesville. The ravine - a lovely, quiet spot on the property was flush with flowers - trout lilies, red trillium, violets in purple and yellow, white and lavender hepatica, and marsh marigolds- bursting more yellow than the sun. These early flowers are so delicate; they hardly look able to grow in the cooler early Spring and to vault through the remains of leaves and branches. They are fragile but so hardy. These colors are vibrant and announce that winter is over and Spring has indeed arrived. I often wonder why nature spends so much energy on these flowers. I understand the flowers of trees - they yield leaves, the flowers of vegetables produce all kinds of edibles. But these wildflowers don't bear fruit, of course, they produce seeds. But why? Beauty. Beauty is nature's way of being actually. Beauty entices and attract
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My favorite spot, besides our park, is definitely Vischer Ferry Preserve. I went there on Saturday morning- I thought it was early- 9:30 but a lot of folks were there and the parking lot was full. I love seeing the families out walking. Really, the kids lead the parents in noticing things and being enthralled with rocks on the path and birds flying by. I met this little guy named David. He is about two with a huge smile and absolute enthusiasm for "nature". His parents said that he woke up all excited to go into nature that day. David looked all around and noticed my binoculars. His parents decided he should have a pair so he could see the birds better. They moved on, assuring David that next time we might be able to "bump fists". They were eager to see the painted turtles that I told them about. I think one of the best gifts parents and relatives and friends can give a child is an outlet for this biophilia that is naturally theirs. They need time and space and a m
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Spring is tentative about coming because the nights have been cold. We had snow last Friday and Saturday! But Spring will only be held back for so long. This week the flowers of the trees are coming out - red for the maples, yellow-green for the poplars, tan for the alder catkins. The skunk cabbage has unfurled from its sheath of pale green splashed with maroon to large heart-shaped leaves that fill the swampy places. Coltsfoot is up smiling yellow and shyly from the side of the trail. Bloodroot's fragile white petals are fearless coming through the dead leaves. Early wildflowers are trying to send up tiny tender leaves - trout lilies, starflower - just promising to burst forth in a week or so. The blessing of this time is time to amble and look - really look at the small things like new shoots. What are you seeing as you take time this Spring? (image credit: Wikipedia)
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I have been walking every day. It really is great to get out and watch Spring unfold. Nature seems undisturbed by our struggles with the Coronavirus. What a switch! We are usually disturbing her and now the roles are reversed! Will we stop to consider our impact on Creation? Will we just return to our ways of wanton consumerism and destruction? But nature is simply being her Springtime self. At Vischer Ferry this week I was blown away by the sounds of the frogs. I know one of the species is Spring peepers. But I heard other frogs too. Perhaps wood frogs? Creaking and trilling. The sound was so loud! Painted turtles congregated on logs, unmindful of social distancing. A piliated woodpecker was excavating a nesting hole. His? Her? large body would all but disappear into the hole, do some chipping away and pop out. Very interesting, since piliated woodpeckers create large rectangular holes in trees and this hole was perfectly round. It seems like the hole was made by another woodpecker s
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Spring arrived on March 19, St. Joseph's Day, so I went out looking for evidence of it. Saturday I went to Five Rivers searching especially for Wood Ducks. I saw Black Ducks and Mallards and lots of Geese, but no Wood Ducks. Painted Turtles had ventured out to sun themselves on logs. Spring Peepers and Wood Frogs were cacophonous! Honeysuckle leaves were just easing open, checking out the weather. Willow branches had turned their yellowish golden color, swaying in the breeze. Pussy willows bloomed with buds of soft whitish "toes". Maples were budding too in a rich crimson. Alders sported their cat-kins. I found a lovely sun-soaked spot where colt's foot smiled their sweet yellow flowers. No Wood Ducks Sunday I went to Vicher's Ferry. The day struggled to get out of the 30's, but the sky was bright blue. Wigeons, Ring-Necked Ducks, Black Ducks, Mallards, Gadwalls, Canada Geese by the score. Red-winged Blackbirds flashed orange-red shoulder patches and called r
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The other day I was taking a walk in Central Park around Iroquois "Lake". It was a very warm day, the ice was melting, the snow was gone. A man came up to me - all smiles- and said, "The geese are here, can Spring be far behind? After only it's only two weeks away!" Of course, he didn't realize that he was giving me depressing information not heralding good news! I always have a very difficult time saying good-bye to winter. I loath the rising temperatures and the loss of ice and snow. I miss Winter's quiet beauty and peace. So I said to myself, "Self, get over it!" This is what it is so embrace it. Taking the cue about the geese I went over to Vischer's Ferry on the weekend. Lots of geese in the business of setting up nests. Lots of ducks! There were a great variety of species - mallards, wigeons, pintails, hooded mergansers and a few I couldn't identify. There was even one lone snow goose. The drakes were sporting their breeding plu
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Yesterday I hiked in Saratoga Spa State Park on the five-mile trail. I walked down near Gyser Creek and paid attention to the water. In some places, the water ran smooth with rich colors of deep brown and black. It was unbroken and beautiful. In other places there were riffles. According to the USDA website: “Riffles are the shallower, faster-moving sections of a stream. Look for areas with a fast current where rocks break the water surface. That's a riffle.” I learned that riffles oxygenate the water and help aquatic creatures survive. It’s important to understand these things, but equally important to pay attention to the beauty, to the song, to the life lessons that riffles hold. As I stood taking in the reality of riffles I reflected on how the rocks change the character of the water, enliven it, make music with it. There are rocks in the stream of my life. Do I let them enhance my living or do I fixate on getting rid of them? Creation has so much to teach, to inspire, to delig
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Saturday I took a walk at Vischer Ferry Nature Preserve. I almost wanted to stay in, to wrap myself in my nice cozy bed and not move. It was 6 degrees out. But there was a clear blue sky. Blue and forever. The blue that shakes me to my core and won't let me stay indoors. A blue that beckons and insists. So I got dressed in my warmest clothes and went out to meet the blue. Actually, the weather had warmed to a balmy 24. The ice on the canal glistened and danced in the sunshine. So many different patterns and textures. So many different shades of clear and white and gray. The ice spoke - creaking and moaning. I wondered what the muskrats were doing under the ice. It looked like they had many holes for air, but these had been sealed up in the frigid temperatures. How did they get out of their cattail homes? I missed the birds. It must be too cold for them to waste calories. As I neared the bridge that would take me to the car I saw a flash of another blue - a bluebird. Then another.
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Saturday I did a hike at Grafton State Park. There was no snow to ski but there was ice! I enjoyed putting on my microspikes and walking the length of Long Pond and Shaver Pond. There is something very reassuring about seeing the ice fishermen out there. I know that the ice is safe at five inches and seven inches respectfully. A couple of guys were pulling perch from the frozen water; one guy just missed a trout. I thought about the fish - swimming in happy oblivion and then - zap. They don't get a respite from being "hunted". I was happy to get my winter fix. The trees were sprinkled with snow. There was a monochromatic look to the day: gray skies, whitish pond, and trees. The gray didn't seem oppressive. It just intensified the mystic of winter. Somehow winter settles my heart and mind, calls me to calm and reflection fills my soul with quiet. This year I am mourning not having more of winter - but it is only the beginning of February. I know that I am a minority.
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A path in the woods is filled with so many stories and lessons. Last week I went on a few short hikes, one at the Reist Preserve in Niskayuna. The path was a combo of pine duff and leaves, ice and mud. I really needed to pay close attention! As I picked my way along the path I thought about being present to a place - about being really aware of where I am and what is around me. Often I stopped looking up at the magnificent oak trees or at the spot where a woodpecker was working. I had to stop. It was a must because if I looked up while walking I could have slipped on ice or mud. I reflected on the many times I try to multitask, on the times I pay cursory attention. This walk reminded me to be present to the present - my new year's resolution! How are you reminded to be right here, right now?
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Winter sun. With the coming of winter - at least because we enjoyed the solstice, not because of snow or temperatures - I have been noticing where the sun is rising and setting. Especially while visiting my family in south Jersey I saw that the sun sets in a very different spot than it does in the summer. At home, on the farm, without the city buildings, nature has a way of speaking so plainly, so freely. The rising and setting of the sun and the moon are wonderful daily events that I look forward to. Last week the moon was a crescent; Venus was so brilliant and the star Sirius shone very brightly and did Orion proud! The winter sky is full of mystery and splendor. The crisp nights seem to make the heavens sharper! My nephew and I enjoyed a bonfire and watched the stars in their constellations regale the heavens. But, back to the winter sun. My sister and I took a walk at Sunset Beach in Cape May last week. The sun was warm and danced on the water near the "concrete ship". I