I think I share your pathological incapability for brevity - I never intend to split posts into parts but it's happening often enough that I'm finally starting to actually plan some of them out that way. But even severed from its second part, this was such a beautiful read. That last paragraph in particular really hit home: 'The here is constantly shifting under our feet, and the now contains the tree it once was and the tree it will become and the berry in the belly of the bird right now, all at once. The bones of my body might be still for a moment, but the smells are moving through my nose, and the bird calls are moving through my ears, and the heart is beating like a woodpecker drumming, and all the seasons are passing through me.' - Wonderfully put.
Also, 'the season of chimney smoke, jizzy-smelling ivy flowers, and mealy-scented mushrooms' totally sounds like the season that Neutral Milk Hotel's In The Aeroplane Over the Sea belongs to, and 'metallic blackberry juice, woodsmoke, and fruity-smelling mushroom season' the season of Joanna Newsom's Ys.
Thank you Jacob. I love the idea of dividing the seasons up by albums listened to or albums that just synesthetically fit the time of year. Ever since it was released November has been the time of year I've listened to You Want It Darker, and now that album has become totally linked with bonfires, fireworks, and fog in my mind.
What a piece. I've been saving this for when I had time to properly sit with it. It's stunning, and evocative, and sad, and funny. So many things, like the seasons you're talking about.
I'm ready to think less about election season and more about natural seasons. I love what you say about our constant affinity to separate ourselves from nature (like I just did). It's a strange affliction.
I was out the other day with my foraging friend (there's an extreme drought here, so no mushrooms anywhere), and he picked a winterberry branch, wondering if he could grow some of his own, from the berries. We wondered about the bird needing to be involved, which really struck me when I reached that part of your piece.
I'm always grateful for your pieces. So much wonder and beauty.
Firstly, thank you Rob. I am always so grateful for your pieces too, and your thoughtful comments.
We've gone a weirdly long time without rain here too, I was going to say "it's dry" but the air is constantly thick and wet (just not wet enough for woodland mushrooms).
Your comment sent me down a holly rabbit-hole that ended up with me reading about the people and birds that use Ilex vomitoria (what a name!) , as well as the ones that eat winterberry. Do you get Eastern bluebirds and Cedar waxwings where you are?
You know, that's a good question. I'm still learning about birds. I was benched on our porch for 4-5 months with a broken leg this spring, and I downloaded a birdsong identification app and started learning their calls. I've never seen or heard either of those birds so far, but they may be around!
I'm curious about people who use those berries. And yes, what a name!
My seventy-something neighbor and her husband just moved away, which is a real shame, as she knows more about flora and fauna than anyone I've ever met. We used to have long chats at our shared fence, and she'd give me plants, tell me about the things in our yard, etc. She did give me her well-used copy of this book before leaving. I wonder if you've read it?: https://www.amazon.com/Stalking-Wild-Asparagus-Euell-Gibbons/dp/0811739023 I believe it's a classic, but not sure how much relates to UK flora.
Thank you so much Wesley. Part 2, which will be up soon, is more about learning to love the winter. I have always struggled with it, but I've been finding ways to embrace it. One of the things that helps me appreciate it is that I can see the birds better since they can't hide behind foliage, but stew (with suet dumplings) and hot chocolate and watching Northern Exposure all help too. What parts of winter are you embracing?
Yes, there’s tons more ambient light in the winter around the trees. I guess the dark, cold nights are an opportunity to get more creative. I always feel compelled to get out on the bike in the warmer weather, especially the evenings when the roads are quieter. Doing some work on my camper too is a good winter project. Never seen Northern Exposure! I’ll jump in…
Thank you Lev. Just so you know, I could have quite easily blamed this newsletters tardiness on you! I could have written so much faster if I wasn't spending so much time looking at Werner's nomenclature of colours (in order to be able to tell my friends they have back of blue tit/smell fennel flower eyes for instance) or (still) looking up things on that David Rumsey map website.
I loved this essay. There is so much to comment on. As always, your writing made me laugh—particularly thanking the bird “that shat you out” while harvesting your bounty of haws. Thank you Sarah
Thank you as ever James. I so appreciate your feedback. I have a love love relationship with bird shit, even when they take a crap on my head as they're passing over I've been reliably informed that this is good luck, and how can you not love all the forest planting they're doing with it.
If birds are indeed auguries (they are) then it is only fitting for their shit to carry meaning. My truck has its fair share of augury tracesI just leave because i like to think about what specific birds provided the decorations and what they were on their way to do
I think I share your pathological incapability for brevity - I never intend to split posts into parts but it's happening often enough that I'm finally starting to actually plan some of them out that way. But even severed from its second part, this was such a beautiful read. That last paragraph in particular really hit home: 'The here is constantly shifting under our feet, and the now contains the tree it once was and the tree it will become and the berry in the belly of the bird right now, all at once. The bones of my body might be still for a moment, but the smells are moving through my nose, and the bird calls are moving through my ears, and the heart is beating like a woodpecker drumming, and all the seasons are passing through me.' - Wonderfully put.
Also, 'the season of chimney smoke, jizzy-smelling ivy flowers, and mealy-scented mushrooms' totally sounds like the season that Neutral Milk Hotel's In The Aeroplane Over the Sea belongs to, and 'metallic blackberry juice, woodsmoke, and fruity-smelling mushroom season' the season of Joanna Newsom's Ys.
Thank you Jacob. I love the idea of dividing the seasons up by albums listened to or albums that just synesthetically fit the time of year. Ever since it was released November has been the time of year I've listened to You Want It Darker, and now that album has become totally linked with bonfires, fireworks, and fog in my mind.
What a piece. I've been saving this for when I had time to properly sit with it. It's stunning, and evocative, and sad, and funny. So many things, like the seasons you're talking about.
I'm ready to think less about election season and more about natural seasons. I love what you say about our constant affinity to separate ourselves from nature (like I just did). It's a strange affliction.
I was out the other day with my foraging friend (there's an extreme drought here, so no mushrooms anywhere), and he picked a winterberry branch, wondering if he could grow some of his own, from the berries. We wondered about the bird needing to be involved, which really struck me when I reached that part of your piece.
I'm always grateful for your pieces. So much wonder and beauty.
Firstly, thank you Rob. I am always so grateful for your pieces too, and your thoughtful comments.
We've gone a weirdly long time without rain here too, I was going to say "it's dry" but the air is constantly thick and wet (just not wet enough for woodland mushrooms).
Your comment sent me down a holly rabbit-hole that ended up with me reading about the people and birds that use Ilex vomitoria (what a name!) , as well as the ones that eat winterberry. Do you get Eastern bluebirds and Cedar waxwings where you are?
You know, that's a good question. I'm still learning about birds. I was benched on our porch for 4-5 months with a broken leg this spring, and I downloaded a birdsong identification app and started learning their calls. I've never seen or heard either of those birds so far, but they may be around!
Anyway, I came across a way to do this by fermenting the berries, possibly: https://extension.umaine.edu/gardening/2020/02/12/grow-winterberry-from-seed/#:~:text=Answer:,:%20Winterberry%20(Ilex%20vertillata)
I'm curious about people who use those berries. And yes, what a name!
My seventy-something neighbor and her husband just moved away, which is a real shame, as she knows more about flora and fauna than anyone I've ever met. We used to have long chats at our shared fence, and she'd give me plants, tell me about the things in our yard, etc. She did give me her well-used copy of this book before leaving. I wonder if you've read it?: https://www.amazon.com/Stalking-Wild-Asparagus-Euell-Gibbons/dp/0811739023 I believe it's a classic, but not sure how much relates to UK flora.
Wonderful, thank you. Currently working out how to love the winter. It’s going ok…
Thank you so much Wesley. Part 2, which will be up soon, is more about learning to love the winter. I have always struggled with it, but I've been finding ways to embrace it. One of the things that helps me appreciate it is that I can see the birds better since they can't hide behind foliage, but stew (with suet dumplings) and hot chocolate and watching Northern Exposure all help too. What parts of winter are you embracing?
Yes, there’s tons more ambient light in the winter around the trees. I guess the dark, cold nights are an opportunity to get more creative. I always feel compelled to get out on the bike in the warmer weather, especially the evenings when the roads are quieter. Doing some work on my camper too is a good winter project. Never seen Northern Exposure! I’ll jump in…
Just so you know, I didn’t ‘like’ this because you gave me a shoutout. No no no, it’s because it’s excellent.
Thank you Lev. Just so you know, I could have quite easily blamed this newsletters tardiness on you! I could have written so much faster if I wasn't spending so much time looking at Werner's nomenclature of colours (in order to be able to tell my friends they have back of blue tit/smell fennel flower eyes for instance) or (still) looking up things on that David Rumsey map website.
Everything is my fault.
I loved this essay. There is so much to comment on. As always, your writing made me laugh—particularly thanking the bird “that shat you out” while harvesting your bounty of haws. Thank you Sarah
Thank you as ever James. I so appreciate your feedback. I have a love love relationship with bird shit, even when they take a crap on my head as they're passing over I've been reliably informed that this is good luck, and how can you not love all the forest planting they're doing with it.
If birds are indeed auguries (they are) then it is only fitting for their shit to carry meaning. My truck has its fair share of augury tracesI just leave because i like to think about what specific birds provided the decorations and what they were on their way to do
I love that you mention identifying seasonal time by smell..”polyrhythmic” -yes!
<3 What does it smell like where you are right now Briana?
Beautiful Sarah. The shifting seasons and patterns are unsettling. This is so perceptive, educational and astute. Thank you.
Thank you Margaret. Yes, sometimes I wish I could just freeze in a season for a moment and hang on to it but that wheel keeps on turning.