Stars

The stars have always fascinated me.  When I was a child, we lived near an observatory, and often my parents would take us to the public programs offered there.  On of my fondest memories is sitting through a lecture about what we were to see then climbing into the big dome with it silver eyelid open to the night sky.  In my dress, patent leather shoes and cardigan sweater I climbed the black metal stairs to peer through the tiny eyepiece.  I recall the first time I saw a miniature Saturn and its rings there before me.  It was magical and spiritual all at once.

I've forgotten much of what I learned during those lectures, but still on a cold, clear winter night I love to look at the night sky.  The winter sky is my favorite, and although I can still find the dippers and Orion, I mostly just stand bundled in my coat and scarf with my head back in wonder.  In winter the stars are twice as bright and seem close enough to touch, and from our driveway in the country away from the city lights, it is as if they were strung across the jet black night just for us.  I marvel at them now as I did looking  for the first time through the telescope.  It is still spiritual and magical all at once.

The Bird Feeder

As I sit here with a cup of tea, I'm watching the birds at the feeder.  Following the rush of Christmas, I'm enjoying watching the birds and looking at the winter woods.  Today there are at least 20 cardinals at the feeder.  I've seen purple finches, chickadees, gold finches, titmouse, downy woodpeckers, and yellow bellied sapsuckers/woodpeckers, blue jays and a few sparrows.  Earlier I heard the scream of a hawk.  I think he might have been eyeing the gathering of song birds at the feeder and considering them for his lunch!

One of the most disconcerting things I've seen at the feeder happened in just such a setting.  I was watching the birds enjoy their seeds when a dark shadow passed over the feeder.  Most of the birds scattered, but one or two stayed.  Suddenly, a small hawk, probably a sharp-shinned hawk- came screaming in from the west and without missing a beat of his wings he snatched a cardinal right off the bird feeder.  The poor cardinal screamed and struggled, but it was the last time he would cry out.  The last I saw of him was his struggling in the hawks talons as the hawk flapped up over the trees and headed into the woods.

But today is bright and sunny, and so far the birds have been unmolested.  I hope the hawk found a mouse or snake to eat today and will leave the birds alone!

If you want to attact birds to your yard, try this recipe for bird seed cakes http://www.pallensmith.com/articles/bird-seed-cakes

Moonlight

It was a full moon last night; I think it might have been the most beautiful moon I've ever seen.  Even as it rose, it remained golden and bright.  Not only that, it seemed to be close enough to touch.  Crossing the river on our way home, the moonlight just poured over the water like shining golden puddles.  There was just something about the moonlight and the December night that was peaceful and bright.  How does the Christmas carol go?  All is calm, all is bright.  That was what it was last night.  Hallowed light coming from the heavens and spilling itself on the earth.  Peace to all.

Wild Turkey

Grandpa and I were up early this morning to walk a trail along one of our local creeks.  To reach the trail we first have to drive eight miles along meandering country roads through the woods and by neighboring farms.  It is always a beautiful drive, but we had a special treat this morning.  Rounding a curve near a pond, five or six enormous birds flew out of the trees right in front of our car.  Big dark forms that even from the car were intimidating as they passed in front of the windshield. Wild turkey.  Now, these are not graceful birds when they fly.  They are heavy and generally they fly more like chickens - rather low to the ground, but they can fly fast.  Swooping across our path these birds were flying like it was the day before Thanksgiving and their lives depended on their escape.  Most flew on across the field and disappeared into the far woods, but one bird just couldn't keep herself air born.  She came down in the field and than ran to catch up with the rest of the flock her strong legs pumping her across the field.  A turkey can run up to 25 mph, so it didn't take her long to disappear into the woods with the others.  You never know what you will see when you go for a morning walk.

Soothing and Reassuring

It's been raining all day.  It's a light rain, the kind one thinks of when one thinks of the weather in Seattle.  It is a beautiful fine mist.  You can stand in it and not realize you are slowly becoming soaked.  You know it is raining, but you don't notice that you are getting wet until suddenly a small rivulet of water begins to run down your collar.

It is the kind of day where staying by the fire and reading is a joy. It is a soft day - soothing and reassuring.  Of course, Grandpa Swift says that his snoring is soothing and reassuring too!  He says that it is reassuring because I know he is alive, and it is soothing because it is steady and constant every night.  I think I prefer the soft patter of rain on the windows.

Persimmon Bread

The spoons just keep coming in  the ripe persimmon seeds!  Just in case the persimmon prognosticator is correct and we are in for a winter with lots of snow, Grandpa and I have the wood cut and piled and covered.  We even had a good portion of it split and ready for the wood stove.  What is the old saying?  Wood heats you twice:  once when you split it and again when you burn it.

So while you are sitting next to that crackling fire and enjoying a snug room on a cold day, bake some persimmon bread!  This recipe came from the book Foxfire 3. Garden City, NY: Anchor Press, 1975. 

1/3 cup shortening
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 3/4 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp soda
1 cup mashed persimmons
1/2 cup walnuts

Cream shortening, add sugar and eggs; beat well. Sift dry ingredients, add to creamed mixture alternately with persimmons and nuts. Pour in a greased loaf pan and bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.

(note: if the batter is a bit thick, add a small amount of buttermilk to make it the consistency of banana bread.)

Persimmons: Sweet and Puckery Prognosticators

The first frosts have come and with them the wild persimmons have ripened.  Those of us who like to forage in the woods for wild things to eat have a veritable treasure of sweet goodness from the persimmon just waiting for us.  You can tell if a native persimmon is ripe because it will be soft and a bit on the brown side.  But don't let the brownish color of these plum sized  fruits fool you; they are sweet when ripe.  Persimmons must be picked and eaten at just the right time.  If picked and eaten too early, the astringent tannins in the fruit will make you pucker and will lock your jaw.  But if you wait a day or two the fruit is tasty and sweet.  You only have to eat a green persimmon once to learn to tell when the fruit is ripe!  Soft is ripe.

Captain John Smith had this to say about the native persimmon, Diospyros Virginiana, " If it be not ripe it will drawe a mans mouth awrie with much torment; but when it is ripe, it is as delicious as an apricook."  The first settlers at Jamestown not only ate the fruit but also drank it.  The seeds could be used as a substitute coffee and the fruit itself was used for making beer.  Native Americans used the astringent qualities of the fruit and the bark of the tree to treat burns and would make a kind of gargle from it to use for infections in the throat and mouth.

Today we not only eat these delicious native fruits, but we "old timers" use them to predict the weather.  If you cut open one of the brown seeds inside the fruit, you will see an image of a knife, a fork or a spoon.  If you see a fork, the winter will be mild and dry.  The image of a knife prognosticates a cold, sharp winter with winds that "cut through you like a knife."  However, if you see a spoon, expect plenty of snow.  You will have to shovel it all winter long.  I don't know if the legend holds true, but our family living in Christian County said they saw spoons in the persimmons there. Just in case it is, I think I'll  find the snow shovel and get the ice melt ready!