Woodland Wander and The Spring of Many Luna Moths

Wandering out of the studio door, I am gently hushed as the stories of the morning 

fall like leaves to the soft forest floor. My traveling companion beckons me to the 

fallen hemlock with a glance and a swish of his feathery tail. 

Closeby, a hermit thrush sings his magnificient song, while the calls of the tree frogs
transport me to another realm. Pasha is content to stroll along the mossy trunk while 
I bend low to greet a fellow wanderer.  

Small bands of travelers duck under sticks and clamber up steep mossy inclines on 

the way to somewhere. 

I munch a few new hemlock needles, the citrusy, tangy taste staying with me for a long while. 

One small mushroom gets my attention... all alone on the edge of a cliff. 

Orange and green is a theme today, so unlikely yet exactly suited for here. 

Thought I'd share a bit of our walk... 

Back in the clearing, the California Poppies are another orange focal point,  

while the tiny geraniums add a touch of pink. 

Further afield at the river, a stone face magically appears to me, 

while the enchantment of the evening is offered by the luna moths.

I send the magic and healing of the forest creatures to my mother, who is recovering from surgery in the hospital. (feel better Mum!) Just at the moment I type this, a luna moth begins to flutter at the screen behind me. I have never had so many luna moths in one season. They gather, three at a time at the front door or careen around the windows in the evenings. I shut off the light in hopes they will wander off to the woodlands, to hide away amongst the green leaves and sweeping hemlock boughs. 

Spring Green & A River Walk

"Wetlands #3", watercolor

The wood stove creaks as I write today. A late morning fire warms the house and 

cold rain soaks into newly dug garden beds. I sit at my upstairs writing nook quietly admiring the yellow-green leaves of beech and birch - a shocking contrast to the 

darker hemlock hues. Spaces left empty since fall are filled again as the deciduous 

trees burst into leaf. Miraculous variations of greens weave between unfurling 

rust-edged maple leaves. As May slips gently past, I find myself wandering in the woodland, enchanted by delicate flowers and the most magical songs of 

wood thrush and gray tree frogs. 

My dear friend, Bob, and his partner, Mabel visited last week from California. We 

went to the Chesterfield Gorge to admire the swift flowing river, high cliffs and 

amazing rock outcroppings. The path meanders along high above the river. 

Eventually, the path opens onto the view of the river as it leaves the gorge. Often

one sees fishermen in the shallows below. This day however, we were alone to 

listen to river songs and distant raven quarks. 

 

Looking back upriver, we notice the huge, quartz boulders eroded from an intrusion 
long, long ago, 

 and the sheer face of the cliffs on the other side. I imagine the bobcats love it here. 

 Tree roots grabbing onto stone remind me of temples in 

Cambodia being reclaimed by the jungle. 

Amazing evidence of ledge turned on end:

Stone outcroppings with lots of nooks and crannies for critters.

 Caves and a stone lean-to along the path show evidence of fort-making. 

I would have loved to play here as a child.... 

I think I must return to this small dwelling someday to leave some enchantment... 

It would have been the perfect house for my little Stieff bears who occupied the 

bookshelf in my room when I was a child. I think my bears would have much preferred 

this spot.