Digging RI

It’s quiet in the Rhode Island woods now. All you hear is the wind, the occasional creaking branch, and if you’re lucky, the tapping of a woodpecker.

With the leaves down, you can see through the forest to the stone walls and cellar holes. You can also spot birds’ nests in the trees. Not everything is brown. The mosses stay green, and look even prettier next to the rocks.

The dead grasses are also stunning, especially in large masses.

Here’s an interesting  cairn (for lack of a better word) that we encounter on one of our favorite hikes. It’s about 10 feet tall and sits alone in a tranquil glade. We don’t know anything about it, which is cool in itself.

The woods are full of secrets.

It’s been an interesting year, with plenty of ups and downs. This is the time I usually reflect on what I should be grateful for. This post is a tribute to the good things.

I am grateful I had nearly 17 years with my dear and loyal friend (and adventurous companion) Geneva. RIP, Sweetie.

But then I found another wonderful friend in Fidgit. Life is too short to be sad.

I’m grateful for the incredible harvest this year, and for having enough to give lots away to neighbors and friends.

I am grateful to the pollinators who visited my garden this summer, even if I miss the Monarch butterflies.

There were so many hummingbirds this year. Another blessing.

I am so lucky to have great hiking friends to share views like this with.

Finally, I am grateful for my wonderful readers. Happy Thanksgiving everybody.

Montreal in November is very gray. Without snow on the ground, it is positively soul-crushing. Little wonder the natives begin to get restless, even with months of winter looming. With Christmas coming, there’s something to look forward to, but it’s all downhill after that.

I always walk a lot when I am visiting my former home city. The photos in this post look like they were taken at dusk, but this was morning!

Yup, that’s a tree, already wrapped up for winter.

I approached the park at the top of the mountain, admiring the rock wall.

Dogs don’t care if it’s dark and gloomy, do they?

These huskies were enjoying another path on the east side of the park.

This house was already preparing for Christmas, in pretentious fashion, I thought. But maybe that’s just me. Those decorations were a spot of green in an otherwise gray landscape, and I was glad to see them.

I was wondering when I would see my first praying mantis of the season. I kept checking my buddleias, where they normally hang out, to no avail. Then I found this youngster, upside down on the side mirror of my car. (Please excuse iPod photo)

I was leaving for work and I didn’t want it to blow off onto the highway, so kind person (read: sucker) that I am, I picked it up gently, intending to set it down in the grass.

It swiveled its head around to look at me and sank its mandibles into my hand.

You’re welcome.

I don’t know what happened, but somewhere along the way, I started buying, not making, cranberry sauce. I found this delicious sauce that was made on Cape Cod, but alas, it isn’t available anymore. My husband doesn’t eat cranberry sauce with turkey, and his family trots out the canned jellied kind, which I really hate on every level.

Then I remembered that my mother and grandmother always made their own cranberry sauce for the holidays and it didn’t seem to have been a big deal. So I began searching for recipes online and found one that seemed really quick and easy. So I made it and it’s delicious! So good, in fact, that my husband has been eating it right out of the container.

Here it is:

1 bag fresh cranberries (about 11 ounces if I remember)

1 cup orange juice

1 cup sugar

orange zest

Dissolve the sugar in the orange juice and bring to a gentle boil. Add the berries and orange zest and cook until the berries start bursting. Remove the pot from the stove. The sauce will thicken nicely as it cools. Raise a glass to your genius and prepare for the accolades.

This is what I was left with after I pulled out my tomato, eggplant and pepper plants last weekend. Mountains of produce!

I sent my husband to work with a large bag of veggies, and I made and froze two pans of eggplant parm. By the way, I tried a recipe from Martha Stewart that calls for baked, not fried eggplant, and I think I like it better.

So my beds are resting and awaiting next summer. Frankly, I could use a rest myself.

I stopped in at my favorite nursery to see what creative things they were showing for fall. I wasn’t disappointed.

How about these mums? There was an entire wagon load off them, making for a mass of eye-popping color.

There were large piles of gourds of various shapes and sizes. Again, the emphasis is on LARGE, for maximum effect. These green ones are interesting together. I guess many will end up as bird houses.

These also looked pretty, and reminded me of a painting.

Just about every inch of the place has some sort of decoration. I liked the colors of these against the grayish brown of the roof.

Inside the greenhouse, there were many artfully planted and interesting containers. Being partial to ferns, especially when they’re in organic planters, I  found this particularly attractive.

I also loved this planting of sedum – in what looked like a couple of bricks.

This is their fabulous salvia border, which had largely gone by but was still full of pollinators. Look closely and you’ll see a bee on the pale blue bog sage in the center. I adore bog sage, salvia uliginosa and tried to grow it one year, but as the name implies, it requires more moisture than my border can provide. I’m a sucker for that blue, though.

Recently I posted about the lack of Monarch butterflies this fall. That still holds true, and it still scares and depresses me. But look what I found in my fall carrot crop: a crop of another kind, Monarch caterpillars!

Editor’s note: I have been informed by one of my readers that these are black Swallowtail, not Monarch caterpillars. Thanks, Andy! 

And C.J., I did not find any munching on my parsley, so I guess they have a new favorite host plant, at least in my garden.

I have counted six or seven caterpillars so far, and there are probably others lurking under the leaves. But they are predicting colder temperatures next week, and I’m afraid these guys won’t stand a chance. How ironic that they should arrive in my garden when it’s probably too late. What a bummer.

Is there any place I could bring them so they could pupate? I don’t know of any around here. Please let me know asap if you know of one.

Another editor’s note: Monarch or swallowtail, they probably have just one more day to live, if the predictions of freezing temperatures are true. I could bring them inside and they might pupate, but I just can’t figure out where they could do that in our garage.

A Swamp Yankee is a Rhode Islander who lives in a traditional Rhode Island way – fishing, farming, cutting wood, you get the idea. I have lived in Rhode Island for 15 years, but I had never checked out an annual festival known as “Swamp Yankee days.” It was high time I did.

I took myself down to the fairgrounds in the small, rural town of Richmond, paid my whopping $5 entrance fee, and parked in a field. I then spent some time strolling. It’s an interesting and fun celebration, perfect for families. (I made the photos extra big so you could drink in the atmosphere. )

I’m sure you are wondering what a real Swamp Yankee looks like.  Here’s one, demonstrating an antique shingle mill:

Here’s another, a blacksmith:

And here’s a Swamp Yankee dog, demonstrating the old time skill of sleeping:

Now that you have an idea of the type of event this is, here are a few more pictures. It was a photographer’s delight!

This festival is a celebration of old time machines as well as traditional skills. I actually remember the old Evinrude from childhood summers at the lake. That’s how old I am.

Here’s a man operating an antique wood splitter. I should mention that all these machines were running – and backfiring a lot.

There was a little train that took kids around the grounds. Whee! All the festival activities, except the cow chip bingo, are free.

The cow chip bingo is one of the highlights of the festival. Please pay close attention to the following explanation of how it works: a grid is painted on a mowed field. Each square is numbered. Cattle are released into the field. If one poops in the square you bought, you win. The top prize is $500!

I watched, holding my breath, as the cattle entered the ring. Except these were not cows. They were calves. Male calves. No matter. They were darned cute, don’t you agree?

They were also frisky little devils, which just added to the suspense. The entire event took about 20 minutes. I guess they had to go.

This man and his little dog were enjoying the vibe…and the food.

This goat looked rather wise.

There were also some local crafts for sale. I thought these were cute, and very seasonally appropriate. Check out those ghosts.

If you’re ever in RI in October, you should check out this festival of wholesome and fun Swamp Yankee-ness. It’s another example of how this state is so much more than just beaches.

Photo: Ricardo Liberato

Hiking on a long wooded trail the other day, we came upon a site that immediately brought to mind the Egyptian pyramids. But we weren’t in Egypt. We were in Rhode Island.

These mounds are created by Formica exsectoides, commonly known as Allegheny Mound Ants. I’ve seen these mounds before, but they were smaller and not as pointy. And there were just a couple. Along this sandy road, there were scores of them. When you looked closer, you could see the ants swarming on the mounds. You can’t get too close, though, because they will attack you if they feel threatened.

These ants live from Maritime Canada all the way down to Georgia. The formic acid they secrete kills most nearby vegetation, and the mounds, which in this case were up to three feet tall, capture solar energy to create a nice warm environment for the colony inside.

Here’s a shot of a single mound.

You never know what you’ll find in the woods, I tell ya.