The crisp fall air, crunching pine needles, and subtly pervasive fragrance all sparked a powerful wellbeing. Lingering concerns about the latest round of bad morning news did not stand a chance.
And I noticed that this particular glorious day did not hold even a hint of the sadness that autumn can bring. Yes nothing lasts, but that day there was no choice but to join in the dance and to forget all that.
The being alive, just that, and never alone, but held by it all.
Walking along the path toward the pond in Menotomy Rocks Park, ArIington, Massachusetts, USA. I caught a glimpse of orange patches. Coming closer I saw Chicken of the woods mushrooms trooping down a fallen trunk.
There were maple leaves on the ground in that area, with none of the expected oak. Perhaps the nutritious sap of a sugar maple was supporting such an abundant display.
Over several days, I returned to view this spectacle in different lights as the shapes changed and the colors began to fade.
And here is how some of them looked after a dry winter:
Although areas nearby have gotton considerable rain, where I live in Arlington, Massachusetts, USA, we had a whole month of unrelenting dryness. This year there is nothing like the diverse abundance I saw around this time in 2021. Still there were some notable mushrooms popping up here and there. Evidently Chicken of the Woods and Jack O Lanterns produce fruiting bodies even when it is dry.
I did come across some interesting slime molds. Those are included as the last photos below.
I wasn’t looking for them – too early in the season, but these mushrooms could not be missed. They were orange and not just a quiet subtle orange either.
They looked a bit melted in places like what happens with some kinds of soft cookies when they are baking. Note: Don’t eat these Jack O Lantern mushrooms, they are poisonous.
A few days later, the caps had flattened out, and gotten larger with their edges turned up. And additional clumps were growing at the base of the oak.
Evidently these mushrooms are a bit bioluminescent. I went out around 5 am to see if I could capture their pale green glow with my small camera, but perhaps there was too much light as the sky was already beginning to brighten.
A recent encounter with a turtle had me thinking about the fact that many humans walk around with our own invisible protective armor. It is not uncommon for us to pull back rather than risk revealing feelings that might be unacceptable to others or ourselves. And we sometimes carry around quite burdensome assumptions and identities in our efforts to stay safe. My actual encounters with turtles were quite a different story.
The first photo below shows a Russian Tortoise I met at a friend’s house. This venerable fellow seemed as curious about me as I was about him. He would surely have great stories to tell, and he seemed very happy in his luxurious and large terrarium home.
More recently, I came across a snapping turtle who seemed to be digging a nest for her eggs by the pond in Menotomy Rocks Park, Arlington, Massachusetts, USA. There were a number of people circling with their eager dog charges. I felt protective. I spoke to the turtle telling her that I was a friend and wished her well. She paused her insistent digging and looked up at me. It felt like a moment of genuine connection.
A few years ago, someone pointed out a dead turtle floating in the pond. I shared the photo of that turle with some experts and one suggested that it was a rare northern red bellied cooter. As requested, I sent in a report with the date, location and photo to those tracking rare species sitings in my state, and they told me it was actually a red-eared slider which is considered invasive and is not native to Massachusetts.
It is clear to me that I am not the only one who feels increasing awe and wonder at how much we can relate to, feel with and even communicate with other species but it is also quite sad that this growing awareness is happening at a time when so many species, including our own, are at risk.
I love how these tiny plants create a soft carpet in shady places, but sometimes in sun as well. It seems natural to want to reach down and pet them. They also can help us achieve relaxed moods as in this dreamy video created by Jeffrey Klein. The Andante section of a recording of J. S. Bach’s Sonata #5 played by Jeffrey Brody on piano and Andrea Hart on flute (and used with their permission) is a perfect complement to the moss images.
Mosses are often used in Japanese gardens for good reason, and it is a delight to come across them growing wild in a natural setting.
With all the rain lately, moss has been happily spreading in my garden. I was delighted when the tiny plants decided to form a soft green carpet where guests gather on my patio before sharing tea. In Menotomy Rocks Park, moss adorns the forest floor, the bases of living trees, fallen logs and even high up on rocky outcrops. Photos of moss in both settings are included below.
I once facilitated a tea and dialogue session for members of a caregivers’ support group that met monthly in my local senior center. Most of them were caring for ailing spouses. It was hard for them to take much time out for themselves, let alone take actual vacations. The social worker facilitating the group agreed that “mini-vacation” would be a good dialogue topic.
From the warm, open way they welcomed me, I suspected they already followed the dialogue guidelines – Pause, Relax, Open, Attune to Emergence, Listen Deeply and Speak the Truth. The facilitator agreed, adding that she encouraged them to speak truthfully about their suffering.
The mini-vacations they shared took place in campgrounds, on the beach and other places they remembered from actual vacations. They spoke about peace and joy and freedom to play. What they described seemed more about being and sharing than doing. It was the very simplicity that made their descriptions so moving – the basic warm human connection.
Dan Siegel, an innovator in the integration of brain science and psychotherapy notes, “Self-compassion and self-acceptance emerge quite seemlessly…from consistent, continuous and caring connections with our caregivers early in life. But they can also emerge from ‘earned secure attachment'” (page 188, Mindsight; The new science of personal transformation). He continues on page 188 explaining that with the opportunity “to feel that we are ‘inside the heart’ of another, the candlelight of love glows within and illuminates our lives.”
These caregivers were taking full advantage of the opportunity to be truly seen and held in that candlelight’s glow. It seemed to me that what they were describing could be appreciated by anyone – the warm sense of belonging with no agenda in a lovely natural spot. There was a peace to what they described but, given their circumstances, it was also quite poignant.
I got the feeling that secure attachment regardless of how it is achieved – whether through early life experience, or though courageous work – might benefit from regular tuneups. And sharing memories or visions of ideal “mini-vacations” seemed not such a bad way to do that kind of maintenance.
Rocks have long been appreciated in Japan. They appear in gardens and are displayed like sculptures inside as well. They often seem to have a life of their own, even when they are not covered in moss or lichens, and are especially apprecated when they show the effects of weathering.
In these times of dramatic change, that rocks will outlast us – their seeming permanence, has a special appeal. Our human lives are brief. While I know whole continents are moving and splitting apart, to me the larger rocks can feel like ancient timeless guardians and I try to listen when they speak to me.
Pinecones were everywhere.
According to Menotomy Rocks Park, A Centennial History by Don Mattheisen, White Pines were planted after a devastating gypsy and brown moth invasion in 1902. It was hoped that the needles would not interest these hungry pests. In any case, no such massive invasion of destructive moths recurred then or now.
As to the unusual abundance of pinecones, recent high winds might have played a role in bringing them down, but could not explain why there were so many on the trees in the first place. Perhaps the White Pines planted in the 1900’s were approaching the end of their natural lives and providing for the perpetuation of their species. Or newly abundant rains the last few years had created favorable conditions for baby trees. Squirrels seem to be going after the seeds already.
There are places in the Park where many young evergreens all seem to be about the same height. I will keep an eye out for more patches of young trees springing up, especially where sunlight reaches the forest floor.
There is something about rivers and their many moods. Perhaps it has to do how the weather affects everything or how they flow. Some, as in this case, seem to breathe with the tides inviting me to slow down and pay attention.
The photos below were taken over a number of years when I visited an Inn that was right on the Kennebunk River, In Maine, USA. Once I saw a seal stick its head out. Ducks often gathered in the early morning. Mostly I just let go into all that was before me, allowing all that radiance to seep in.
Radiant Refuge 