September 27, 2015 - There Will Be No Funerals

The creek bed has dried up, and the ferns surrounding it are all turning brown.  The cattails have all burst open, and most of the grass has lost its color and turned to straw.  Everything is dying now, but there won’t be any funerals.  There won’t be any somber processions of dark-colored cars and ladies in black veils.  There will be no tears.  No one will regretfully pat another person on the back while lamenting the past.

The end is near.

Instead, there will be a celebration!  The trees will put on their finest gowns, and the grasses will comb their beautiful blonde hair and sway in the scented winds.  Good food will fill platters in swollen abundance, and the aroma of parties and plenty will be in the air.  People will run about in fields and go for hayrides.  There will be costume balls and bonfires and secret rendezvous in the night.

After all, what is there to mourn?  Death?  What fools we humans are not to see the joyous rapture of death all around us in nature, which we ourselves celebrate without realizing it!  There are no funerals and no sorrow in nature because death is a dream.  It’s just a doorway, a transition into the next thing.  We can see it so easily with the changing trees and the dying grasses and the soon-to-be frozen landscape.  And we know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it will all come back in its time for another round of celebrating, another round of life.  Why should we think that it is any different for us?

September 26, 2015 - The Walk to October

THE WALK TO OCTOBER

 

Hidden burrows and secret hills

Covered with moss and dead things

opening now sooner and sooner

To release their cloaked inhabitants.

The night no longer required for stealth

the Good Folk roam freely

At first in the twilight

But later at any time with boldness.

For the tide has changed now

And the beings of light return to their source

Leaving the canvas of Earth

To be reclaimed by the hidden ones.

 

The tiny dens of the Good Folk.

 

September 25, 2015 - Just The Right Way

The sunlight shines just right on a secret web in a tree.  If I hadn’t been looking at it “just right,” at just the correct angle, I never would have seen it.  That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have been there.  It just means that I wouldn’t have seen it.  I would have missed it.  I would have been oblivious.

The invisible web made visible.

And I think the whole world is loaded with these “webs.”  I’m not talking about the spider webs in trees.  I’m talking about the existence of thousands--millions!--of things, people, situations, ideas, life forms, etc., that are invisible to us.  We’re just not looking at them the “right” way.  We haven’t gotten into the correct angle.  We haven’t found a sun to light up their hiding spots.  That doesn’t mean they’re not there.  It just means that we haven’t seen them.  We’ve missed them.  We are oblivious.

I firmly believe there is an unseen world all around us.  It contains a few ordinary, mundane things from our own world, such as this spider web.  It also contains fantastic things from other “realms” or dimensions, if you will, that we simply haven’t been looking at in just the “right” way, and so it has gone unnoticed.  But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

September 23, 2015 - This is Fall

Another brilliant day of sun on the surf, but this time it wasn’t too hot.  The meadow grasses leading down to the beach are starting to die, and the color brown is taking center stage once again.  There’s a different feel in the air.  The wind is a little sharper and cooler, and it brings a different scent.

Fall comes to Mackerel Cove.

The animals are in a heightened frenzy as they get ready for the coming cold.  The squirrels are very fat now and have stored a great deal of food away.  All hibernating animals have gotten extremely fat from the lazy and bounteous summer.  The other animals are getting ready for the rut and the assured continuance of life.  Some birds have already left, including my beloved hermit thrush, and it won’t be long until a major migration takes place.  Meanwhile, the insects are tired and are laying their eggs.

All is well.  All is as it should be.  The Earth is getting ready for her death again, and she’s very grateful for the respite.  It’s time to take the crown off, put on a peasant’s dress, and pass the scepter to the next ruler.

September 22, 2015 - It Won't Be Long Now

The little wild asters on the side of the road are the last hurrah before the cold sets in.  They’re excruciatingly ordinary, and if it were any other time of the warm season, I don’t think we’d give them a second look.  But it’s not any other time.  It’s the end, and that makes these asters very important.  We know that it won’t be long before they go, and when they do, they’ll take the warm weather with them.

The aster is the last of the wildflowers.

The goldenrod is dying off behind the asters, and the grasses are starting to turn a bit grayish.  Their color is washed out now, and it won’t be long before they disappear, too.  Of course, there are still cultivated “mums” everywhere trying to fool us into thinking the festivities will go on, but we are not fooled.  We appreciate the color and the gallantry, but it is garish.  Nothing lasts forever.  A look at the wild things on the roadside will tell you that.

Savor the tiny daisy-like flower of the wild aster as billions of them cover the roadsides now, mimicking snow, a foreshadowing of what’s to come.  It won’t be long before the great chill sets in and the world goes to sleep again.  Then overnight the asters will nod their brave little heads, and the Lord of Winter will begin to stir in his lair.

September 21, 2015 - The Death Cap

Isn’t it pretty?  Sitting all by itself.  A pretty green mushroom has emerged from the even greener moss.  It sits in the center like a purposeful decoration.  It’s unmistakable.  I had to take a picture as it called to me across the path.  “Look at me!  Aren’t I the prettiest mushroom you’ve ever seen?  Pick me and take me home!”

The Death Cap (Amanita phalloides).

It would have been my last meal on Earth if I’d taken this mushroom home and fried it up and eaten it.  This is Amanita phalloides, known better as the “Death Cap.”  These are greenish mushrooms, usually a more olive drab sort of color.  You can see the olive in the center, but as the mushroom has aged and opened up completely, its color has faded outward until almost white at the brim.

The Death Cap (Amanita phalloides) along with the Destroying Angel (Amanita bisporigera) are the culprits involved in most of the deaths that occur from mushroom poisoning.  While the Destroying Angel is native to North America, the Death Cap is not.  It is a European mushroom, but evidence of it being in North America was confirmed in the 1970s, most likely imported with various woods carrying the spores.  In any event, the Death Cap is now part of the mushroom scenery in North America in late summer and fall.

The Death Cap has been implicated in the assassination of emperors and popes.  One half of a cap is enough to kill a person.  It is reported to be pleasant-tasting, and the initial problems are only some gastric upset and nausea, which could easily be attributed to anything.  But in the several hours it takes to realize that you might have more than a tummy ache, irreversible damage will have been done to your liver and kidneys.

And so . . . avoid the pretty green mushrooms with the white gills underneath when you see them.  Don’t listen to a word they say, no matter how much they flatter you.  Even if they promise to be good, you must leave them where they are and keep on walking.  The Death Cap plays for keeps.

(This article is for informational purposes only and is not intended as culinary advice.  If you are not intimately familiar with mushrooms, err on the side of caution and do not collect or eat them.  This article is also not intended to diagnose, treat, or cure any ailment.  If you need medical advice, seek a physician.)  

 

September 20, 2015 - Puffballs

The fall mushrooms are coming in now, and there is a lot of good free food out in the woods.  I stumbled upon this patch of puffballs (Lycoperdon pyriforme), and they are in their prime for eating.  You’ll hardly see any “feet” on them, and inside they are pure white.  Once they start to change color inside, they’ve begun creating internal spores and you can’t eat them.  These puffballs were absolutely perfect!

Lycoperdon pyriforme, a species of puffballs.

The photo only shows one small part of what was available, as the puffballs were everywhere.  They have a very delicious and earthy taste to them, and they are considered a choice edible.  If you find a good patch of puffballs, go back to it each year because they’ll usually grow in or near the same spot again.  Lycoperdon pyriforme grows out of dead wood, and there’s plenty of that in the forests of Maine.

This is a very abundant mushroom that grows just about everywhere.  I won’t harvest these all right now, but I will take some over the next several days until they start to go.  Once they start to go and develop their inner spores, you can take them and toss them into areas near your house so that they will grow there next year.  It’s painless farming with barely any work involved, and it doesn’t cost you a penny.

There is a species of puffballs called giant puffballs (Calvatia gigantea).  They are truly gigantic!  They can easily grow to be the size of a basketball, and they grow very quickly.  They also should be eaten when pure white all the way through.  A giant puffball pretty much has to be eaten when picked.  You can slice them and fry one side, then flip it and put pizza toppings on it while the other side is frying.  They are delicious!

Puffballs are pretty safe mushrooms and are a good “beginner mushroom.”  One caveat to keep in mind is if you cut a white puffball in half and see an image in it of what looks like a developing mushroom with a cap on it, immediately throw it out.  You won’t make that mistake with these tiny puffballs I’ve got in this photo, but with some of the slightly larger varieties (which are also delicious), you’ll want to slice and check the cross-section.  If you do see what looks to be like a small developing mushroom with a cap on it, DO NOT eat it.  Amanita bisporigera, also known as the Destroying Angel, when very, very young looks like a white ball before it bursts through.  The Destroying Angel will kill you.

(This article is for informational purposes only and is not intended as culinary advice.  If you are not intimately familiar with mushrooms, err on the side of caution and do not collect or eat them.  This article is also not intended to diagnose, treat, or cure any ailment.  If you need medical advice, seek a physician.)

September 19, 2015 - The Something

Do you ever get that feeling--in your soul, in your heart--when you’re all alone that there’s “something” out there?  You have to be alone for this.  You have to be silent.  Usually, you have to be out in nature, although some very old and classic pieces of architecture can also bring this feeling out.

The Something.

At first you feel like a voyeur.  Like a watcher.  Sneaking around and seeing something that wasn’t meant for you.  It’s like you stumbled upon a lucky accident.  Everything around you seems to fit into this big and beautiful picture, except for you because you’re the watcher.  You’re on the outside looking in.

But if you stay, you start to feel the “something.”  And what’s more, you start to realize that maybe you’re not the watcher after all.  Maybe you’re the “watched.”  Maybe you are the one being observed.  Maybe you are the lucky accident.

You see the mist rising out of the water.  You know it’s calling to you.  You know what it says.  It’s telling you to lay down all your foolishness, to stop all your posturing, to abandon your grasping and pulling.  It’s telling you that you’re perfect and you’re loved just the way you are.  It’s asking you to forgive yourself.

Because in the great scheme of things, in the plans of the Great Alchemist, you are a perfect individual snowflake, and there isn’t anything more wondrous to watch in the world.

September 18, 2015 - Seeker of Light

The clouds at sunset look like a bird to me, and it’s no wonder that the ancients pictured angels with wings.  They fly through the heavens searching for the light.  Without it, they are dull and gray and cold.  But with it, they are made beautiful.  What was gray and sinister now shines in shades of pink, orange, and even purple.  Subtle nuances come out, depths no one could have suspected while looking at an ordinary gray sky.  But then the light comes, and everything becomes sublime.

An angel.

Even what did not want to shine, will shine.  Even that which was dark and forboding and menacing will give way to the brilliance and fly like a bird.  What tried to stay hidden in darkness will be found.  The light changes everything it touches.  As if touched by Midas, the hidden facets and the tiny unnoticed wisps become illuminated, poured into a mold, and made into a crown.  Everything searches for the light, even the things that don’t.  It’s an irresistible pull heavenward to the realm of the angels. 

Quaestor Lux - Seeker of Light.