Yosemite

      Close to the end of October I took a day trip to possibly one of the most beautiful places in the US- Yosemite National Park.

     It was sadly a solo trip but was absolutely stunning. I hope to return next summer for a few days backpacking with a friend. (But first I need gear and maybe an easy weekend trip to warm up to it first!)

     Looking through these photos has me missing California. It's hardly been half a month since I left to return to Washington but I miss it.

     SO far the plan has been to find a job, apartment (check!), and small space to farm. That;s right, I'm starting a farm! It's still a major work in progress, but my plan is to grow mostly medicinal herbs to sell bulk and as teas, salves and the like at one of the local farmers markets as well as online. One step at a time though- I'm still on the hunt for land low-key as it is (regular job is more important at the moment. Also it's December, there's not much I can do anyways. Another lesson in patience). So keep your eye out, there will be more changes to the blog as this develops.

Farm in Fall

My camera lens got a bit dirty, so this was the best photo I could get of our rooster who is, to say the least, peculiar.

      As I sit here lightly editing the post and making plans for the rest of my day I realize I only photographed our livestock! As the days get shorter again and there is a cutting cold in the early mornings before work we still have many, many vegetables in the ground that are doing wonderfully and deserve some acknowledgement, but it appears that may be for another post...

      Fall, as much as I adore it (Layers! And changing leaves! And time to read and knit and cuddle!), has turned into a stressful time of year for me. A time for choices, moving and letting go. As much as I love California and especially here in the northern foothills, the Salish Sea is calling. Not to mention on a more practical note- I've been organizing my finances and creating a budget (really rather functional for a 23 year old)- I realized I don't have the funds for the very necessary irrigation system or water here. I also realized I won't have money to do even a quick road trip this winter to the desert which I desperately wanted to do this winter, but alas,  if it means I get to have my own farm this winter I'm forcing myself to be content with that.

      Speaking of letting things go, four of our six pigs are enjoying their last few days on the farm. I have mixed emotions about this, as I have grown rather fond of them. Having never raised or butchered my own animals, only hunted them which is a totally different dynamic, I am sad, but happy to know that these hogs never had to endure the discomforts of a conventional pig farm, had a large area to rut around in, plenty of mud for wallowing, and all the fresh, organic produce to gorge themselves on every morning. They had a happy, carefree life; a life I wish more livestock had.

      But the sheep are all staying with us; we've even taken on a male called R17 (affectionately called "R") who will hopefully help our herd grow. He's more comfortable with us and loves a good back scratch some mornings when I cut through their area to let the chickens out.

      Some days I wonder how, or if the animals mark the passing of the seasons; or if it is merely instinct that causes their changes in behavior. What do you think?

      Before it gets too hot out today I'll be off hunting mushrooms in the woods, celebrating the recent rains and scouring the ground for the huge acorns that have started to drop.

Coming up: tarot spreads, paintings, delicious noms for the end of season tomatoes and miscellaneous adventures!

Coastal Gatherings and Explorations

 Until the juice ferments a while in the cask,
it isn't wine. If you wish your heart to be bright,
you must do a little work.

-Be Lost in the Call, Rumi-

      I was reminded of this stanza from a loved poem this last weekend went I spent two days on the Northern California coast. Of the importance of decidedly doing and not just wishing or procrastinated planning to achieve.

      I left early Saturday, a quest to be ahead of the traffic along I-80 and all those roads that are unknown. It was a largely successful venture. I arrived at a camp ground on Bodega Bay to find myself with the last camping space available way out on the spit.

      What glorious weather! There were clouds and a slight breeze, with spots of warm sunlight. Pelicans flew across the bay; their flight patterns seemingly choreographed as they dipped and flapped then rose one after another without missing a beat. On the far side of the jetty one could hear a group of California Sea Lions- unfortunately it would have been a long walk or very cold swim to actually see them and I had managed to forget my swim suit in my excitement.

      Admittedly, I spent a fair bit of Saturday sleeping in my tent. The last few weeks of work have been hectic and increasingly stressful (the True Cause of this has yet to be determined) that culminated in an absolutely mad Friday that included a bad cut, rude customers, a car accident- no one was hurt- and half of the chicken flock getting out. Nothing beats repeat naps to recover from total exhaustion. Naps and a rather wonderful monkey flower tincture that is like sunshine in a bottle.

      Sunday was the real reason for this adventure- the Hollowed Ground workshop with Sylvia Linsteadt of Wild Talewort. What a treat! A day of animal tracking, writing and drawing, exploring Point Reyes and learning about the natural history of the land.

      It made me wonder about synchronies and how they happen; not to mention the genuine joy that occurs when they do. You see, I had been looking for an inspiration to start writing and drawing again for some weeks and finally had found it. When I am really able to get going again I'd like to share some here, but we shall see- that may be a long time coming.

      On the dunes of Limantour beach we found the foot prints of swaggering ravens, bounding rats and one very intriguing ground squirrel who's paw ghosts we followed away from the grass-protected dunes and toward the water. We questioned the baseline movement of humans in comparison to raccoons (oh, how they amble so slowly) and hoped for bobcat or even the elusive cougar.

      Away to the west the Farallon islands could be clearly seen, and as we set out on solo, questioning walks along a trail a slight rain began that was magical in its timing.

      Most surprising of all was the sighting of a Tule elk, whose existence here I was not aware of until very recently.

      What was quite lovely was a retelling of a very old version of Cinderella by Sylvia known as Catskin. If you've never read it before I highly recommend it. It is haunting and especially wonderful when you hold the story in you and  walk the land that is calling to it.

      I left the workshop with a journal well-underway and a wild desire to learn more about tracking and folk stories and bringing everything together in an effort to rewild our existence.

"The paths here run catacomb-wild, sometimes no rhyme or reason around grass patches or straight through thickets of blackberries. Do they [elk] have sacred spots or an ancestral memory of place too?" -Notes from the place Catskin called

Some Adventuring

I may not be a huge fan of living in California, but gotta say, I am planning on abusing the gorgeous privilege of living here until mid-November. My goal for the rest of this season is to go someplace new at least twice a month (preferably more though). This last weekend I hikes the Loch Levens trail in the Lake Tahoe basin, and two weeks ago did some exploring around the American River from the Auburn Recreation Area.
Pretty fantastic stuff right there. (Also a neat announcement at the bottom of the post!)

And awesome announcement time: a paper I co-authored is getting publishing this month in Herpetological Review, woot!!

Fabric bundle and farm beasts

Beasts may be a stretch of a term...
Linen dyed with onion skins, wrapped around walnut leaves and rusty tools.