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Nature
Education
This is where I post curriculum activities, wilderness survival tips, sustainable
technology information and reliable resources.
Writing
Life
If you're looking for writing exercises, word play, writing techniques,
book reviews and resources I find enlightening, entertaining and educational,
this is the place.
Wild
Edibles
Here's the place to check for what it looks like, where to find it and how
to prepare a wide range of wild edibles, with links to established experts.
My
Opinion
Check here for my views and opinions about this rapidly changing world,
including my journal notes.
I have a great deal of respect for people who not only know what animal left the scat, but when, what the animal ate and often a good deal more about the animal’s sex, health and details that most people would not notice.
Some species of decomposer mushrooms also grow from scat.
Here is what I found on my most recent hike:
Now that we’ve had a bit of rain, I’m hoping seasonal mushrooms will fruit.
As the sun rose, the waning moon was still visible. There’s something special about standing between the sun and the moon at the start of a new day.
White oak acorns are dropping early. At first I thought they might be the undesirable ones. But when I set them out in my yard, the squirrels ate a few right away and carried off the rest. I think the chipmunk got in on the feast, too.
I’m looking forward to feedback from people who know what they’re looking at to help me really see what I am looking at.
I was hiking Tuesday morning when my sister Mindy called to tell me Dad had passed on.
I’m still processing this. I’ve pored over his lifetime in photos, written three essays and I’m working on two obituaries. I phoned his home, and heard his voice on the answering machine. It was oddly comforting, like watching a classic movie or concert footage of a deceased performer.
I knew Dad’s time was near. I wanted him to check out before post-polio claimed his mobility and his dignity. I’ve forgiven him for not buying me a horse when we lived on a working farm. I will always be grateful that he was the definition of “resourceful.”
While I’ll miss him, I am so glad that he did not have to endure the worst of post-polio syndrome. His mind remained razor sharp to the end, but polio robbed him of mobility first when he was a teenager, and later just as he was about to embrace retirement.
My Dad’s mantra was “everything happens for the best.” Despite his positive focus, polio was a fact of his life. While polio presented specific choices and obstacles, it never defined Bill Fogelman, who saw opportunity in every situation.
There’s a cemetery and a good patch of woods where I currently live. I have been blessed to observe several animal families growing up this season. I heard the hawk long before I got the chance to see it.
The call matched no recording I could find. So, blessed with a network of mentors, I contacted Bird Lady, who says:
“Immatures don’t sound like the adults do in recordings – but I’d say it was a young broadwing trying to do his “Beeeeeee” call.”
As for the nests in the previous posts, Bird Lady says:
“The messier nest could be a barn swallow and the other is the phoebe nest.”
Now all I need to learn is whether the barn swallow and the phoebe are likely to be neighbors or if the barn swallow nest is from a previous season.
Sitting in a lean-to on a DEC-blazed trail that starts at Alder Lake in the Catskill Mountains, not far from Livingston Manor. It’s a refreshing day – breezy with low humidity.
I’ve hiked 2.25 miles on a gradual uphill and I need to stop. I’m completely out of shape. My hiking has been curtailed by a combination of this oppressively hot summer and the car accident. The drought has hit here, too. All the wild berries are dried out.
There are two identically built nests in the rafters of this lean-to and a parent bird has returned and is scolding me for sitting too close to the nests.
I thought the chirping was a chipmunk at first. Before getting out of the way, I took photos and video and left some sunflower seeds, which is silly – this bird is a flycatcher. If I had heard the song, instead of the call, I would have immediately figured out this was Sayornis phoebe. Midday light and shadow are not ideal for photos.
nolink]
No longer between the parent and the nest, I am now sitting on a log in a swamp. Wood nettle is everywhere. In this season it stings worse than common nettle and it’s only good to transplant or harvest in spring and fall. I still do not have a good view of the nests, unless I’m willing to lie down on my tummy on the wood nettles.
I do have an amazing opportunity to observe this bird and its behavior in detail in a natural setting. What a gift. (more…)
This is the first time I’ve seen mushrooms in any kind of volume since May.
Mushroom identification is important. In this case, the mushroom may be Boletus bicolor, or it may be Boletus sensibilis. Most mycologists agree that the first is a choice edible and the second is likely to cause stomach upset. My friends and fellow mycologist/foragers Joe and Kathy Brandt are convinced that Boletus sensibilis is perfectly fine to eat.
The two mushrooms are very hard to tell apart. One of the identifying characteristics is whether the mushroom stains blue slowly or quickly. Boletus bicolor stains slowly; Boletus sensibilis turns blue instantly.
I took these photos while the mushroom turned blue:
This part of New York’s Hudson Valley has been so dry that I have not found any fungi, even in places I have seen them before. The day was not wasted, since I found other wild edibles, although not in great quantity.
Even the tiniest milkweed pods are maturing rapidly.
I gathered enough to add to ratatouille.
I also found evening primrose blossoms, which are a great trail snack. I have not yet tried to combine them in any recipe.
It finally rained yesterday for half the day. It helps a bit, but many of the plants were burned to a crisp in the heat wave. I headed for a shady trail. It’s not as hot as it was, but I want to be out before the summer sun has a chance to heat up the trail.
I did not expect to find mushrooms. But I did find grape leaves.
I chose several different sizes and shades of green. What I learned is that the lighter green leaves were still tender. The darker green leaves, having endured the extreme heat, were tough and chewy. One source I consulted suggested foragers count down three leaves from the new growth at the end of the vine and pick the next 2-3 leaves. Do not pick more than three from each stem.
I only gathered a few leaves, because I knew this was an experiment. Now that I know what to look for, I’m motivated to make stuffed grape leaves again.
This is one of the few local areas that has had no rain – yet. I hope the scorched earth gets some relief. Mushrooms are nowhere to be found. They depend on moisture to fruit. The recently ripe, succulent berries are becoming dry and hard – not like dried fruit – more like pebbles.
Just before this heat wave I tried to transplant Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta). I don’t know if this drought will wipe out all the water I had given them before the thermometer outside my window read 40-degrees Celsius, (104-degrees Farenheit). I don’t remember any day getting as hot as that since I arrived on the planet.
Meanwhile a Cooper’s Hawk is teaching her fledglings to hunt. The blue jay is tormenting the motionless hawk by pointing out its location to all the other birds.
In a couple of hours I’ll be leading a mushroom walk.
I cannot get a decent photograph of the spherical spider-web in the rain barrel on my deck. There’s about an inch of water in the barrel and above it, this glimmering globe of silky fiber woven into a geodesic dome, with a beautiful spider in the center. It’s really magical.
I spent last night watching day give way to night as fireflies glimmered and katydids sang on a perfect summer night. A light breeze kept the biting insects at bay. I like the way the gray values of the sky and the leaves change, like watching a painting come to life.
As night gave way to this morning, accompanied by the wake-up songs of robins, cardinals and avian summer visitors, the shadows revealed each individual leaf and the ashes, maples and oaks became distinct again. Vibrant day-lilies reach toward the sky and nestled in the thorny brush, those little wild berry jewels glisten in sunlight.
If I eat roadkill at this time of year, I have to watch the animal get hit. I had such an opportunity two days ago. A fat, but not quite fast enough woodchuck got caught in the wheels of a mommy-mobile. (more…)
I got out the door to experience first light in spring for the last time this year. My thoughts are not as light-hearted and hopeful as in the past. Still, I am able to inhale the warm scent of a summer morning, not the noxious fumes of spilled oil.
This is not as compelling a photo as my 2007 solstice image, but no two years are the same.
I’m just grateful to have the opportunity to spend time in the woods.
