A Simple "Thank You."

 

Just a quick and heartfelt thank you to dear Mother Nature for all of the bounty she provides in our lives, all of the lessons that are out there for us to learn from her if we just slow down long enough to listen, and for reminding us that, no matter how dark the days and seemingly endless nights may be, each and every day the sun does come up, and we are gifted with the chance to try again.

To all of you who have followed dear Flower Bear from the beginning, as well as my new friends and followers, I wish you a  Thanksgiving filled with joy, love, abundance, and blessings.

And so it is. 

A Sad Goodbye

We had quite the rain-mixed-with-snow storm the other night. The wind howled and rattled the windows, and the rain lashed against the building, dumping what felt like an unreal and endless amount of rain on the roof. My poor senior cat did her best to hide under the bed (she's a bit chunky so her butt sticks out but as long as her head is covered, she's good), while I actually had moments when I pulled the covers up over my own dhead and politely asked Mother Nature if she could knock it off, "please and thank you." I don't remember exactly what time I finally fell back to sleep, but the next thing I knew, my fur baby had gotten back up on the bed and was telling me in no uncertain terms that light was dawning, the morning commute was racing past the window, and it was definitely time to get up and open a can ... as always she was quite literally starving to hear her tell it.

I threw back the curtains and was met with a sad sight, one that I had hoped I wouldn't see for at least a few more weeks. My beautiful autumn trees were bare. Most of the reds, golds, oranges, and muted browns were in piles at the base of the trees, while others were plastered on roofs, windows, and cars. Seeing the bare branches against a still leaden grey sky was much like being at a funeral. Luckily there was still some color to be seen on the distant hills, perhaps protected from the worst of it by the towering pine trees that surround them, but all up and down the block, and in everyone's yard, the leaves had given up the fight an were gone.

At that moment, my first thought was sadness for the trees themselves. I knew that scientists have proven that trees talked to each other (and to us if we know how to listen), so I wondered if they were lamenting the loss of their beautiful leaves, or complaining about the weather and the coming winter, but as I looked at the silent beauty of their bare sculptures, I somehow knew that they were so much better at this sadness and loss stuff than we humans are. 

Humans have turned complaining into an art form, especially around the subjects of aging and change. The hair turns grey (or starts falling out), the waistline goes, we don't think we can take one more winter up here and wonder why in heaven we haven't relocated to Arizona yet? Trees just stand there and accept it. Sure, their beauty might be gone in human terms, but those leaves had a job to do: to turn into mulch and feed the trees for their long winter sleep so they can return healthy and green in the spring. Then they will provide homes for the birds and squirrels, havens for insects, and shade for the humans who will then be complaining about how hot it is here when just a few months before they were complaining about the cold. Yet the trees continue to stand there, doing what they are here to do, probably laughing at the silly humans because if we would just stop complaining and listen, we'd learn that there is something to love and to learn in every season of the year, and in every season of our lives. You just have to stop long enough to see it ... and listen to your hearts.

And so it is. 

Seeing The Forest For The Trees

"Can't see the forest for the trees."

John Heywood

Today's blog post is going to be short and sweet. Of all the tragedies that have befallen our dear planet earth and our beautiful Mother Nature, none have been worse this past year than the devastation that hit our trees and forests. Millions of acres of trees were wiped out in a matter of hours due to fires, and it's not over yet. 

I don't have to tell you about the importance, nay, the necessity, of trees on our planet. We have all heard about how they clean the air, provide food and shelter for wildlife, build our homes, heat those homes, conserve water and preserve our soil. One way we can all do something about the problem is simple: plant a tree. I don't necessarily mean that you have to personally plant a tree, although if you have a yard or some other property that can support a new tree, that would be your chance to put your personal print on the problem. If not, there are many organizations that you can donate to which plant trees all over the country. The Natural Arbor Day Foundation is probably the biggest and most well-known group that is doing just that, but here is a list of the top nine best charities that are planting trees from the website: Impactful Ninja:

1. One Tree Planted

2. Trees for the Future

3. Trees, Water & People

4. International Tree Foundation

5. Woodland Trust

6. Trees for Life

7. Tree Aid

8. Trees for Cities

9. International Animal Rescue

I hope you will give serious thought to either planting a tree yourself, or contributing to one of the organizations that do. If we all do our job, our grandchildren will, indeed, have trouble seeing the forest for the trees.

And so it is. 

An Ode To Pumpkins

I'd like to take this opportunity to say a great big "thank you" to the most famous and beloved vegetable of them all ... the pumpkin. Sure, it's the day after Halloween and all over the world millions of pumpkins have had their day and are now sitting outside somewhere wasting away, or perhaps somewhere inside all saggy and squishy after spending last night lit up, decorating someone's table. Today, all thoughts of pumpkin will be swept aside until Thanksgiving when the idea of pumpkin pie once again puts this beloved orange sphere in the spotlight. 

Oh, sure, when it comes to fruit, you've got our good old apples (you know, the whole "Johnny Appleseed/Mom's Apple Pie" thing), but pumpkins have evolved from just being a Halloween and holiday pie thing. An entire industry has risen around this tasty and, dare I say, healthy plant. There's pumpkin pies, for sure, but also pumpkin muffins, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin latte, pumpkin spice tea ... there is even such a think as pumpkin pasta, if you can believe it (believe it, I have the recipe and it is yummy). 

Just in case you thought it was all about taste, allow me to share with you what Web MD had to say about the almighty pumpkin:

"In addition to beta carotene, pumpkins offer vitamin C, vitamin E, Iron, and folate - all of which help strengthen the immune system. More pumpkin in your diet can help immune cells work better to ward off germs and speed healing when you get a wound."

Pretty impressive, if you ask me. So here's to the almighty, healthy, tasty, and all-around good sport, the pumpkin. Long may you grace out tables, our holidays, and our hearts.

And so it is.

Pick, Chop, Cook, Smile, Repeat

As soon as the Autumn chill is in the air, I wait for one special day that calls to me and tells me: "Hey, it's time to start cooking." That day finally arrived last weekend on a rainy, chilly day that was just begging to be filled with chopping, cooking, and gratitude.

There is something about harvest time that calls to all creatures, animal as well as humans. In fact, it was by watching the animals that humans learned what to harvest, how to put food away for the winter, and how to reap all the blessings that Mother Nature gave us. For me, as soon as the harvest is in and the baskets in the farmers markets are filled to bursting ... and the pumpkins come out ... my fingers just itch to get started. Our prolonged Indian Summer kept pushing that further and further back until last weekend. I knew as soon as I opened the curtains and the window for a breath of fresh morning air, heard the rain and felt the chill, that my day had finally arrived.

Squash, potatoes, root vegetables. Soup, stew, veggie toppings for pasta, all of it appeared on my cutting board. There is something so therapeutic about chopping vegetables, seeing the colors come to life under my knife and the smells reach out to me. Soups are my absolute favorite things to cook and freeze. An old recipe of my mother's for using up zucchini, tomatoes, and onions to toss with spaghetti is another (no written recipe, just years of sitting at the kitchen table watching her work her magic while I did my homework). An unexpected offering in the market last week of asparagus, a bit late in the season but, what the heck, also ended up on the cutting board to be sauteed with garlic and mushrooms, simmered in a dribble of veggie broth and tossed with penne pasta and sprinkled with cheese. Butternut squash was roasted, boiled, and fried, some ending up in the freezer, some on my plate for dinner. I had to stop when I started having trouble closing the door on my little apartment-sized freezer. My next batch of cooking will have to wait a few weeks, I guess.

I noticed a long time ago that when I am chopping and cooking, I am also smiling. I take long, deep breaths to enjoy the smells coming out of my tiny kitchen. All the drugs in the world can't begin to compare with the feelings of warmth, home, and personal satisfaction I get from this. Mother Nature provided and I reaped the benefits. That's a pretty good partnership if you ask me. 

And so it is.

Update in the ongoing turf war I told you about last week: Mama Squirrel got the upper hand this morning by using her little brain ... she brought Dad along! Bigger and faster, he escorted her home with her morning nut from the back yard, followed her inside, and then stood guard when six grackles tried to scare her out. You should have seen those birds scatter when Dad came thrashing out! Score one for the squirrel family!

Lessons From A Turf War

If you've been following my blog for a while, you know that I often talk about watching the little squirrel family that lives in the ceiling of the porch roof of the house right across from the window where I sit each day at my desk to write (and sometimes just daydream). I would imagine it is some pretty prime real estate because there are nice pockets in between the joists and beams to build a snug nest and stash food. In fact, at this time of year, I usually watch her carrying in nuts from the trees out back or whatever else she's managed to find. Then in late winter and early summer, she nests and brings forth her babies. This year, however, things are not going well for the squirrel family. There is a nasty turf war going on between them and what I refer to as "the bullies" of the neighborhood, namely, a flock of grackles that have decided to move in and take over.

Grackles are fierce-looking birds that look like crows only not quite as large. They are loud, and travel in large colonies. They are particularly disliked by farmers because they are their #1 threat to the corn fields. There are corn fields all around my town only a few miles away so our neighborhood is a nice, safe place to hide from the angry farmers.  Although they usually live in warmer climates, they move north during the summer. As it has been unusually warm here in upstate New York, they have not made much of a move to fly south with the rest of the birds yet. They usually travel in packs like gangs and, when threatened, can be very aggressive. A neighbor of mine was out walking her tiny dog and one of them made a dive for her head. They must have passed to close and felt more threatened by my neighbor lady than her dog. Anyway, they have been watching the comings and goings of Mother Squirrel very closely lately and have been doing their best to scare her out of her home. They invade it when she is out foraging, and chase her when she comes near it. They usually leave at least one bird on guard during the day and it is not unusual to see this poor furry creature making a run for home when his back is turned. She will hide out there for hours until the coast is clear and she can venture out for food. 

Personally, I can't wait until the gang gets tired of the cold and moves on but I know they will be back when spring comes and it will start all over again. There is a part of me that does not wish these birds kind thoughts because, as a mom and a grandma (and a great-grandma), my sympathies lie with Mother Squirrel. On the other hand, as someone who is a staunch supporter of animal rights and preservation, how can I wish harm to come from creatures that are just trying to survive just like everyone else? Perhaps what we've done to the environment has turned these birds from just a normal bunch of folks to angry, hungry, scared creatures whose only thought is for survival at any cost?

This whole thing puts a whole different perspective on what is going on in the world with humans. For the most part, people are just trying to survive. They all want the same things: a safe home, security, food, and love. Anything that threatens those things will sometimes turn perfectly nice people into folks who will do whatever it takes to get what they believe they need. If someone were trying to take away your home and security, wouldn't you do the same? 

Perhaps it's time we stopped fighting over what we perceive as lack of and start working together to make more of what everyone needs. We need to do more to clean up the water and air, build safe, affordable housing, make sure everyone has access to a decent way to earn a living, and preserve what is left of our natural world before it is all gone. Humans need to remember that the Mother Earth will survive just fine without them, but they cannot survive without her. It's time to stop being the neighborhood bullies and start being the neighborhood heroes.

And so it is. 

Gathering Nuts

There is row of black walnut trees surrounding the property where I live. Our parking lot out back is filled with smashed husks and skins that have fallen from the trees and been smashed by the cars coming in and out. However, our resident squirrels seem to truly appreciate the fact that the cars are opening the nuts up for them so they don't have so much work to do. As it is, they have been scurrying back and forth, up and down, collecting the nuts and storing them for the winter ahead. The daytime temperature outside may have been on the warm side lately ... like in the 70's for a week at a time ... but the squirrels obviously know something we don't. Personally, I'll take my cues from the squirrels rather than the weather folks every time.

While I don't collect nuts, I do take this time to start my annual cooking and freezing adventure. It starts with my going to the farmers market and the cider mill nearby and picking up several different kinds of squash, the last of the tomato crop, and the makings for stews and soups like carrots, celery, and onions. Then I spend a week or two cooking and freezing. Some squashes are mashed or roasted and freeze easily. The zucchini is cooked with onions and tomatoes for my mother's famous spaghetti topping and frozen in individual containers for several separate meals. One day will be devoted to all things soup and stew where the carrots, onions, celery and sometimes lentils come into play. Homemade vegetable soup, lentil stew and even a vegan chili all end up in containers in my freezer. Although I have a small freezer, I have learned how to pack a lot in it. If all else fails and I have gone overboard, I can always ask my dear daughter, she who owns a chest freezer, to rent some space. 

So what is it with our need to stock up for the winter? Are there no stores open out there anymore? Sure there are although recently we have been facing shortages on certain supplies due to the pandemic and a shortage of workers and ingredients, but storing for the winter has been something we humans have been doing since humans started walking upright. We took our cues from the animals, like the squirrels, and put food away to keep us fed over the winter. Even though I don't really have to perform this ritual every year, it is something I look forward to. I love hunting through the piles of produce in the market, enjoying the colors and the smells, and finding just the right squash or shiny apple. I love how my home smells when all the cooking is going on. I usually put on some nice, autumn-type music and light candles. Mostly, there is something therapeutic in the chopping and stirring that makes me feel self-sufficient and safe. What can I say? The squirrels and I are having a wonderful time!

And so it is.