Walk in the woods

As the river rose, Walker and I walked up the old road to check on the town water well located along the oxbow between the upper and lower falls. Still some snow and ice on the north side of the roadbed and water thundering over the falls. Buds on the beech and apple have swollen, almost bursting.


I love this old pine with the barbed wire coming through the wood, the crevices filled with dried needles.

Along the stone wall were numerous common mullein, a plant that reminds me of donkey ears, soft and fuzzy that later in the summer sport tall shafts of yellow flower. 

Out of this stump grow lichen, a hemlock, and a new bright green pine.

Little Trillium, ready to bud into its dark crimson flower, scatter the hillside.

Dandelion poke up through the leaves - an old spring tonic when boiled, tender greens when blanched.

As eager as the plants are to spring upwards out of the woods' duff, I'm more eager to see them.

Spring Haircuts

On my walk this morning, mixed in with the sound of the waterfalls, I heard a buzzer coming from the alpaca barns and climbed the hill to see what was going on. The alpaca are sheared in the spring and their fiber sent off to be made into yarns. This week a crew, experienced in the process, gives everyone haircuts. One by one, haltered from the large pen, the alpaca is gently maneuvered between a cushioned machine that looks like 2 slices of bread. The workers cinch the gentle creature into place, flip her on her side and begin the job of removing the soft fiber from belly, neck, back, legs and head. When completed, she's turned onto her hooves and off she goes to join the others. I'm sure the sensation is odd, to have that warm blanket removed on a brisk morning but the sun streams into the barn and they're back eating their hay. 

Whew!

Alpaca are inquisitive, social, gentle. So soft.

Am I next?

Mothers give birth soon. Plan to visit and see the little ones.

How Do I Look?

Fresh from the garden

At winter's end, there are the fits and starts toward spring - an unexpected snowfall,  rain on top of a heavy snow pack, the river overflowing its banks, muddy dirt roads. Fishing season has started, though the high, turbid water has discouraged many from dropping their lines.
The best thing about this week is the parsnips. Planted last June, they've remained in the ground all winter. Freezing temperatures transforms parsnips' starch to sugar and the results are mouth-watering and renewing to my spirit.

When the ground thaws, they can easily be dug and rinsed off. The green tops stand out in the garden, as nothing else jumps out of the soil there these days.

Parsnips are easily brushed or peeled, and sliced - boil in a little water, puree with carrots or potatoes. My favorite is to roast them in a little oil, spread on a baking sheet in a 375' oven for 20-30 minutes and turning once or twice.



Creamy Root Vegetable Soup

onion/shallots
olive oil
4 carrots
4 parsnips
4 small potatoes
4 cups water or chicken broth
Bay leaf
Salt and pepper, cayenne pepper to taste
1/2 cup cream or 1/2 and 1/2 - optional
cilantro, chives, or parsley as garnish

Saute onions or shallots in oil in a soup pot till transparent. Peel and chop vegetables and then saute for a few minutes. Add water or broth and bring to a gentle boil. When vegetables are soft, remove bay leaf and add mixture, in small batches, carefully and slowly to a blender. Return to soup pot and add cream if you wish, garnish with something green, and serve.

Eager for spring

Yesterday, though the wind was brisk, the temperature warmed.  John thought it time to help the snow disappear and uncovered most of the raised beds in the upper garden. He shoveled for a few hours. Exciting to see green sprigs of parsley, sage leaves, chives and garlic. You'd think we had discovered gold.

I wondered around the yard where snow had retreated, discovering some primrose and daffodils eager to get on with it. I'm amazed with the persistence of life - tender shoots piercing dead dried leaves, letting nothing get in their way.