Digging RI

I shot this in Quebec, before we finally got snow. I took a lot of photos of trees on our various hikes. This path through a stand of conifers had a mysterious, dreamlike quality. I believe the trees are pines and hemlocks, but I don’t really remember.

There are some giants in these woods. I can’t figure out how they survived so long without being chopped. Every time I see one, I have to stop and admire its presence and tenacity.

This tree looked like something out of a fairy tale – the scary kind.

This was the biggest one of all, an ancient maple.

And, bonus, it was hollow inside!

There were few old hemlocks, too. So stately.

Trees are always an essential element of my winter hiking experiences.

Feast your eyes on these beautiful eggplants, which I believe are the “graffiti” variety. Whatever they are, even in December they looked so pretty and fresh on display at the Adonis Middle Eastern market near Montreal. My husband, who was born in Rhode Island, fell in love with the place when we were dating and INSISTS we go there whenever we are in Quebec.

The baklava section is ridiculous. In typical Montreal foodie fashion, people here complain that “Adonis isn’t as good as it used to be,” but for those of us who are starved for interesting food, it is a paradise, and besides, they say that about everything.

Pistachio-filled pastries, glistening with honey. Writing this is making me nostalgic.

My husband bought several of these small, spicy, meat and pine nut-filled pies, which are among his favorite foods in the universe. We tried to bring some home a few years ago but they were confiscated at the border because they didn’t want any Canadian meat entering the United States. He was devastated.

We made our way to the endless nut counter, where there is a mind-boggling selection and the nuts are always fresh. Not expensive, either.

We bought a pound of these lightly salted pistachios from Iran. Now we wish we had bought more of them.

Before driving back to my sister’s, we stopped for lunch at a favorite restaurant: Cote St. Luc BBQ. This is not barbecue in the traditional American sense. The most popular meal, pictured above, consists of what Americans call rotisserie chicken (but a million times better), killer fries made from scratch, cole slaw, a bun, and classic Quebec-style sauce for dipping everything in. This plate has what is called a “dark quarter,” but you can also get white meat – which I would never do for this meal, but whatever…

More nostalgia for me, when I saw a display of macaroni and cheese dinner at another grocery store. This stuff is hugely popular in Canada, and is simply referred to as “KD.” It was nice to see the packaging reflecting that national quirk.

We have returned from spending a most welcome, snowy holiday in Quebec. We had a storm a couple of days after Christmas, which made everything considerably more festive.

The fields were bleak, visited by crows and a few snow buntings.

But inside, it was cozy. My sister’s Christmas tree had some cute new ornaments this year, including this felt polar bear holding a fish. The little snowshoes are also very cute.

This tinsel has been in our family for at least three generations.

People here are as crazy as ever for hockey, especially les Canadiens. This fervor is shared by their pets.

As always, we found happiness and badly-needed exercise in the snowy woods. I hope you had a wonderful holiday. More Quebec posts coming in the New Year.

It has been so warm here in RI this December that the ferns are still looking mighty healthy on this boulder.

If you get in very close, you can see they are just a teeny bit brown – but still. It’s DECEMBER!

I am very fond of plants that grow on rocks, finding that tiny layer of soil and going for it. I have to respect that.

I also have a great fondness for mosses, especially when their soft green pillows are up against gnarly rock and lichen. And there’s a tree growing out of this one. Bonus.

We have walked by this huge (much bigger than it looks in the photo) rock face so many times. This time, we decided to climb it.

Before we knew it, we were sitting on top, enjoying the view, and the sun.

My dog, who might be part chamois, climbed to the stop in about 10 seconds and paused with us to take in the woods below.

Being a woman of northern climes, I am bummed that there isn’t any snow yet, but I am trying to make the best of it and enjoy the woods as I find them.  I will be taking a break from blogging for the next couple of weeks, but I will be back in January.

I hope you have a peaceful and relaxing holiday.

This, my friends, is Digging RI’s 500th post. Hard to believe, especially for me. There have been many times that I have wanted to chuck the blog altogether, but I have stuck with it through the years and here I am, still writing about gardens and orchids and nature, still taking photos and sharing them, and still, often, wracking my brain for a subject.

I have a lot on my mind these days, and a lot of venting I’d like to do about the state of the world in general. But I won’t do it here. Not today, anyway. Once again, I will share my personal refuge from the global madness: the outdoors.

Here in Rhode Island, most people seem to head indoors after Labor Day. I don’t know what they’re doing – maybe watching sports or working on home improvement projects. Of course, they are free to do whatever they wish in their leisure time. I like to spend mine outside getting the fresh air and sunlight I crave.

The upside to people’s apparent distaste for anything but hot summer “beach weather” means we have the beaches and the hiking trails almost entirely to ourselves for several months of the year.

Rhode Island also offers some beautiful and relatively wild inland places. This is a recent hike a friend and I did at the Tillinghast Pond Management area, a terrific network of Nature Conservancy trails. There is even a composting toilet at the trail head. Sheer luxury.

We hiked for about three hours without seeing a soul. It stayed cloudy, and the woods were silent, except for the tapping of an occasional woodpecker and a small flock of kinglets browsing a hemlock canopy.

This lovely stream provided the perfect opportunity for a drink and a quick dip for my water-loving corgi.

We make sure to wear blaze orange this time of year. There are signs at the trail head telling hikers to wear it, and it’s the law. We still run into people not wearing blaze who seem to think they’re safe in the woods during hunting season, which they are – if the hunters can see them.

No snow yet, and the ticks are still active. I found one on my dog when we got home. All in all, prime time for hiking, though.

I will close by saying thanks to those people who have kept reading over the years. It means more than you know.

The house in the photo is actually gray. The dawn light was so golden and pink this morning that it bathed everything in magical colors for a little while. Early risers get to experience these moments, even in December. The hawk, (a red tailed I think) perched on the right corner of the roof, has been hanging out in our neighborhood for the past few weeks. It looked as though he or she was enjoying the sun, and a respite from the flock of crows that mob it mercilessly whenever they find it.

Winter light throws everything into sharp relief. The blues are bluer and the contours of the ground – or in this case the sand – are more defined. Things are crisp and clean.

I took this shot at midday. I love how huge my dog’s ears look in her shadow. I also like how the sun’s low angle brings out every track in the sand.

People complain about the “dark days of winter.” I can’t wait for them.

This is Narragansett Beach on Thanksgiving Day. It was 62F, and some people decided to mark the holiday by going for a swim – without wetsuits. There was a lot of hollering.

Fidgit took a dip in one of the tide pools.

She always goes a little crazy after a swim.

At the mouth of Narrow River, where the ducks hang out, the current is strong. It’s rather wild sometimes.

After our walk, relaxed and refreshed, we dressed for the party.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

I enjoy growing miniature orchids and this is one of my tiniest. Tubocentron Hsinying Girl is only about an inch tall (!)  and lives on my kitchen on a southeast-facing windowsill.

It is just now beginning to bloom, and should put on quite a show when all the buds are open.

This is a new hybrid from Taiwan, having been introduced just this year. It does not seem to be particularly demanding, growing in bright, diffused light. I water it thoroughly about three times a week. The one thing this orchid (and most other orchids) will not tolerate is bad drainage.

It is on the same fertilizer regime as my other orchids, Michigan State University “Tap Water Special” once a month, and Superthrive once a month, with plain water in between.

A pretty little thing, isn’t it? And quite festive, too.

This is the Ichetucknee River, not far from Gainesville, Florida. As a participant in this year’s McCormick Specialized Reporting Institute, I not only got to see it, I got to paddle it.

We began our river trip here, at the headspring of the river – in other words, where the river begins. Notice the incredible clarity of the water. This is where groundwater comes up from the aquifer and becomes surface water.

The specialized reporting institute, entitled “Covering Water in a Changing World” focused on climate change and water, helping journalists understand the science and policy surrounding this resource. It took place at the University of Florida in Gainesville.

I have been to Florida, but never to the northern part of the state. It is very different from my home in RI. It even smells different: tropical and green with a hint of smoke. Organizers of this event hoped that a morning on the water would give us a deeper understanding of what we’d be talking about over the next couple of days. They were right.

The cyprus trees are festooned with Spanish moss, which is not really a moss but an epiphyte that grows on the trees but does not parasitize them.

This was a pleasant, easy paddle. The Ichetucknee  flows to the Santa Fe River, then the Suwanee River, and finally to the sea.

I had to stop and check out these spider lilies in bloom near the bank. Notice how they’re growing right in the water.

I also saw many big turtles sunning themselves on logs. Manatees can be found in the Ichetucknee in the winter, but we were too early to see them.

We ended the excursion with a stop at Ginnie Springs. This spring is clear, but with so many people using it, the eel grass is gone. Pretty to look at, though.

On our last night, we went to the University of Florida’s bat houses, which the university describes as one of the largest bat colonies IN THE WORLD. Some of my colleagues from the West said they still saw plenty of bats, but this was an especially great experience for me, since most of our native bats have been killed by white nose syndrome.

Three species of bats live in the two houses. The most common is the Brazilian Free-Tailed bat. They share the roost with Southeastern bats and Evening bats. All three species were completely new to me, and I was thrilled when, about 15 minutes after sunset, they began pouring out into the night. Not just thousands, more than 100,000. Wow. And they do us all a huge favor by eating millions and millions of insects every night.

Here’s a link to more information on Brazilian Free-tailed bats. I think they look a bit like winged chihuahuas.

 I have these photos I took recently in New York, but they don’t fit in a specific post, so I thought I would indulge in a photo dump. I hope you don’t mind. The above image is of the Brooklyn Bridge, which I walked with my friends.

The view from the bridge. Nothing like it. Powerful and arresting.

Contrasting with all that gray steel and glass are colorful scenes, like this flower stall.

And gardens, which are everywhere, tucked into the smallest spaces and usually beautifully designed.

This is in the West Village. Still colorful and cheery.

There’s always a spot for some flowers.

There are so many parks, most with beautiful, mature trees. This one is in Brooklyn.

New York is also a very doggy city. This is Ozzie, a NYPD dog in training. He’s just 7 months old, and he looks like he’s enjoying a rewarding career in law enforcement.

I saw this little dog on a balcony. I thought he or she looked sad.

This corgi looked much happier. He is doing the little “happiness howl” that corgis are known for. The “corginicenti” call it BAROO, because that’s what it sounds like.

And the skating rink is open at Rockefeller Center.

What an amazing city.