The Daily Forest Report June 21, 2014 (Solstice) “Riding Out the Day’s Events… The River!”

by nielskunze on June 21, 2014

Audio Player

00:00

Use Up/Down Arrow keys to increase or decrease volume.

(Tom Sawyer by Rush from their 1981 album Moving Pictures– recorded from vinyl)

(Do you ever get the feeling that some– or many– of our advances aren’t advances at all? I wish you could be sitting beside me on the dog-bitten couch, listening to the vinyl through this kickass system! One day I’ll do a whole blog post about the subtle difference between analog and digital.)

The forest is such a mixture of order amidst chaos… it draws the eye… or does the eye (I) draw it?

We’re flowering now, all of us… our attachment to symmetry unfolding over an asymmetrical life.

When identity tries to stand all alone, our aspirations approach the absurd… and still, we carry on and hum our tune.

It’s a salsify summer; the invasion is proceeding according to plan. Whose plan? Salsify’s own. Those in the (k)now, they tend to dig the roots before they flower… and cook them up like parsnips. If you don’t catch them early, they get all woody. But did you know that the whole plant is edible? Of course, I ate the flowers. Surprise! They taste exactly like coffee with a bit of cream and just the tiniest pinch of sweetener. Crazy flower!

I could hear you wondering what a puffball looks like on the inside… same as on the outside… unless it’s gone too far. It’s all-you-can-eat solstice; I got my fill… and had to leave the buffet line while the servers just kept bringing more!

And for dessert, I made a new discovery with an old friend. During rose season, I’m that guy walking around sniffing his own fingers. It’s not some subtle perversion; it’s the accumulated fragrance of a thousand picked roses… but there’s something more, some additional delight. There’s a woodsy-patchouli-clove thing going on quietly in the background. I always thought it was just that some petals are tastier than others… no, it’s the leaves! The leaves have a spice all their own. I’ll capture it for you… and bottle it up in a beer. I’m good like that… but you’ll have to come here to claim it.

It’s nice here… We’ll trip over discoveries together. Some purple asters (I think) taste exactly like black pepper. Bam! I try to limit myself to just one when I’m not sure of identity.