super-shrooms
Our oyster mushroom totems are still fruiting––they are supposedly cold weather tolerant. Here are some fun facts about oyster mushrooms:
* Commercial cultivation of this mushroom first began in Germany as a subsistence measure during World War I
* Oyster mushrooms are saprophytic rather than parasitic
* All major lineages of the oyster mushroom are carnivorous. Their mycelia can kill and digest nematodes.
* The pearl oyster mushroom is also used to create mycelium bricks, mycelium furniture, and leather-like products.
* The species has been found to contain the cholesterol-lowering drug lovastatin.
* Oyster mushrooms were used to treat soil that had been polluted with diesel oil. The mushroom was able to convert 95% of the oil into non-toxic compounds.
Wow! I had no idea. I hope our totems keep fruiting for a very long time!
oyster mushroom pieces (Pleurotus ostreatus)
PS I am feeling much better today––I think it was my covid vaccine. Thank you for the well wishes (esp. you Carol!)
the laaaaaaaast melon!
Does anyone remember the line “The laaaaaaast melon?” from the original Pixar Ice Age movie? Well, this may very well be the laaaaast fresh (non-pressed) leaf for the season 2026. Tonight we will get our first frost, on the heels of two days of blustery cold rain. The party ends tonight. And I am exhausted, I actually feel a little like I have a party hangover. I think it is simply a minor body-reaction to a recent Covid vaccine booster. Whatever it is––a leaf-party-to-end-all-leaf-parties hangover or a covid vaccine hangover, the result is the same: It is 6:08 PM as I type, and I am heading to bed. See you tomorrow!
horse chestnut leaf in fall (Aesculus hippocastanum)
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WHIRLIGIG
The party is over,
The song sung.
We’ve all gone home,
Whirligig remains.
It teases of hope
Through winter frost—
Waving good-bye
While counting the cost,
Of the bruises incurred
From its seed on a string,
Conkers in pockets
Legends that rang,
Of the “biggest” and “baddest”
That ever did bring.
Children with bruises
Fingers maimed,
Whirligig waves
Good-bye to the game.reply
before-and-after (1 or 2)
This is the first time I am trying a double post: a before and after, 24 hours apart. I have been doing a lot of these before-and-after pairs lately; Primarily because it it just Steve and me in the house now, so I can leave my STILL specimens on the floor, where I photographed them for as long as I want! No dog. No kids. Just a little accumulated dust to contend with. Of course, I would rather have the dog back, and the kids home again, but such is life.
Interrupted fern fronds in November (Claytosmunda)
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Typical autumn, rich warm colors, lovely symmetry, my fave of the two.
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MIND THE GAP
They’ve lived for millions of years—
In fossils before dinosaurs
With life and history in their name—
The “Interrupted Fern.”
Their legacy assured through gaps,
That mark the rhythm of their stems.
This unsaid says everything—
It is the stronger dialogue,
Holding truth close to heart,
and secrets wielding worlds.
It lay behind, “You know I love you”
and “But you didn’t say it.”
And steers every bias and prejudice,
as well as kind gesture.
It reveals itself as a sigh, a tear,
a laugh, hesitance.
The unsaid provides the reason for everything
without saying it.
But in this fern, it is simply a gap.TANGO
A hand reaches down and lifts her to the floor
Thin and veined it holds her with less strength than before.
Long ago when they were young, they mesmerized the hall
She—light on her feet; he—very tall.
Their song the song of anger, lyrics lying as they danced
And convincing as they move that the anger would not last.
But that was then.
Years ago he lost her, she doesn’t know his name
She fears him as intruder; she’s in another game.
Until she hears the music, “La Cumpersita” starts
And deep within the gray, she sees another part—
The part of her that knows that anger dances love
And the source of that is him as he offers her his hand.
Back. Pivot. Step. Back. Pivot. Step.
He is here. She is here. Love is here.
In three minutes, it will be gone.reply
before-and-after (2 or 2)
This is the first time I am trying a double post: a before and after, 24 hours apart. I have been doing a lot of these before-and-after pairs lately; Primarily because it it just Steve and me in the house now, so I can leave my STILL specimens on the floor, where I photographed them for as long as I want! No dog. No kids. Just a little accumulated dust to contend with. Of course, I would rather have the dog back, and the kids home again, but such is life.
Interrupted fern fronds in November (Claytosmunda)
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One Halloween monster chasing another. While not my first choice, it has action and excitement in my eye.
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not yet leaving the leaves
I absentmindedly picked up these two leaves because I liked the contrast of their rich colors. I thought I would add them to my growing, almost-out-of-control piles of workshop material, and maybe photograph them later. But in my cupped palm, as I walked back to the house, they slid into this position, like two hands with different colored skin connecting palm to palm. I thought, well, maybe the day after an election is the right day to post this image. Anyway, here’s to grasping for moments of whispered unity when division runs shouting through the streets.
two white oak leaves in November (Quercus alba)
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This morning I asked Gordon (my husband) what he saw in this photo. Without reading your description he said, “I see the rebirth of American democracy” and through our discussion, this poem emerged:
A DIFFERENT METAPHOR
We have alienated ourselves and others,
Isolating our own wrong thoughts
Into statues of rightness, immovable.
It is the worst hell—
Where binary choices halt choosing.
“Reach across the aisle,” they said.
But “they” did not see the clubs in our hands
And the violence we would do.
We need a different metaphor.
Rest yourselves now—two leaves in the palm of a hand,
Maintaining shape while sharing space.
Experience what could be true—
Difference that doesn’t divide
Dialogue that doesn’t distort.
Reawaken to hope,
Where choices make change,
And history has its turning points.reply -
Number 2 has exuberance written all over it. Perhaps because I am 86 years old nd still feel like dancing wildly like these two are
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