I love big thunderstorms! A month or so ago, we turned off all the lights and sat curled up by the window during a huge lightning storm. It makes me think of A Wrinkle in Time, "Wild nights are my glory!"
I'm going to avoid the thoughtful questions and second the praise of the zucchini bread recipe. A newsletter last year included the recipe and I've made it multiple times since. We devour it every time. I gave some to my 11-month-old last week - he also loved it. I'm not much of a cook, but this recipe gave me a lot of confidence that I can do what needs to be done in the kitchen and helps me use the never-ending supply of zucchini.
So glad you and your 11mo like it! I didn't realize (but am honestly not surprised) I repeated the recipe. :) I have a recipe for zucchini oatmeal cookies I'll try to share next year!
Having an unimpeded view of all the stars in the sky was probably the most awe-inspiring scene of natural beauty I've ever experienced. It isn't the kind of thing that can really be experienced in pictures either; being able to turn your head and see stars without number no matter where you turn certainly makes you feel so small and makes the world feel so vast.
This year I've really enjoyed the rising tide of august cicada calls. The rain in the northeast has been heavy and frequent, but the sounds of the rain feel cleansing. Like Leah I love big thunderstorms. Finally, its that time of the year to harvest the squash so I'd like to share one of my mom's favorites this time of year Korean pumpkin porridge.
I am on vacation at the beach in North Carolina. On Monday night, we saw about a dozen newly hatched turtles make their way to the sea, and that was in the back of my mind throughout this piece.
In one way, the experience was truly serendipitous - we had no expectation of the event. We've been coming here for years around the same time and never seen this before, and had no way of knowing before we arrived.
In others, it was very much experienced within the approved parameters, both for us and the turtles. The bulk of the nest - which had been moved back from where the mother left it at the high tide watermark to the edge of the dune - had made its way to sea the night before we arrived. The turtle watch had moved the nest and made a trench to lead them to sea with s little barricade on either side. After three days, they came to inspect the nest and launch any stragglers, of which there were about a dozen. When the first ones made it to the water, everyone all cheered.
It was quite neat to see, but it's hard not to think of it as a weirdly unnatural event, down to the volunteers shepherding the turtles to the shoreline and calling to others to watch the seagulls and pelicans. I suppose, given the island's transformation into a several mile strip of vacation homes, it's necessary, but maybe more symptom than solution.
Such an incredible sight. Definitely interesting to think about how our experiences of "wilderness" or wild animals tend to be very scripted/controlled... (often, as when meeting a bison or a grizzly, that's a good thing!) The benefit, of course, is that we're present and witness to sights that, hundreds of years ago, we probably never would've been able to see. But as you note w/ the encroaching suburbanization, maybe there are places/events/animals we shouldn't be witness to...
For the last two weeks I've been recording the insect noises in our backyard each morning. This time of year, the crickets, cicadas and katydids get louder and louder the closer we get to the first frost, as if they know this is their last chance to be heard. What I especially love is how how the sound carries across the yard in a wave that rises and then breaks against the fence, followed a few minutes later by a new wave. My understanding is that they're calling out to their mates, which means every morning what I'm really listening to is one big love song.
I love big thunderstorms! A month or so ago, we turned off all the lights and sat curled up by the window during a huge lightning storm. It makes me think of A Wrinkle in Time, "Wild nights are my glory!"
I'm going to avoid the thoughtful questions and second the praise of the zucchini bread recipe. A newsletter last year included the recipe and I've made it multiple times since. We devour it every time. I gave some to my 11-month-old last week - he also loved it. I'm not much of a cook, but this recipe gave me a lot of confidence that I can do what needs to be done in the kitchen and helps me use the never-ending supply of zucchini.
So glad you and your 11mo like it! I didn't realize (but am honestly not surprised) I repeated the recipe. :) I have a recipe for zucchini oatmeal cookies I'll try to share next year!
Having an unimpeded view of all the stars in the sky was probably the most awe-inspiring scene of natural beauty I've ever experienced. It isn't the kind of thing that can really be experienced in pictures either; being able to turn your head and see stars without number no matter where you turn certainly makes you feel so small and makes the world feel so vast.
Agreed!
This year I've really enjoyed the rising tide of august cicada calls. The rain in the northeast has been heavy and frequent, but the sounds of the rain feel cleansing. Like Leah I love big thunderstorms. Finally, its that time of the year to harvest the squash so I'd like to share one of my mom's favorites this time of year Korean pumpkin porridge.
https://mykoreankitchen.com/pumpkin-porridge-hobakjuk/
Can't wait to try this porridge! Will include a link in October's newsletter.
I am on vacation at the beach in North Carolina. On Monday night, we saw about a dozen newly hatched turtles make their way to the sea, and that was in the back of my mind throughout this piece.
In one way, the experience was truly serendipitous - we had no expectation of the event. We've been coming here for years around the same time and never seen this before, and had no way of knowing before we arrived.
In others, it was very much experienced within the approved parameters, both for us and the turtles. The bulk of the nest - which had been moved back from where the mother left it at the high tide watermark to the edge of the dune - had made its way to sea the night before we arrived. The turtle watch had moved the nest and made a trench to lead them to sea with s little barricade on either side. After three days, they came to inspect the nest and launch any stragglers, of which there were about a dozen. When the first ones made it to the water, everyone all cheered.
It was quite neat to see, but it's hard not to think of it as a weirdly unnatural event, down to the volunteers shepherding the turtles to the shoreline and calling to others to watch the seagulls and pelicans. I suppose, given the island's transformation into a several mile strip of vacation homes, it's necessary, but maybe more symptom than solution.
Such an incredible sight. Definitely interesting to think about how our experiences of "wilderness" or wild animals tend to be very scripted/controlled... (often, as when meeting a bison or a grizzly, that's a good thing!) The benefit, of course, is that we're present and witness to sights that, hundreds of years ago, we probably never would've been able to see. But as you note w/ the encroaching suburbanization, maybe there are places/events/animals we shouldn't be witness to...
Thank you for the insights and anecdote, Matt!
For the last two weeks I've been recording the insect noises in our backyard each morning. This time of year, the crickets, cicadas and katydids get louder and louder the closer we get to the first frost, as if they know this is their last chance to be heard. What I especially love is how how the sound carries across the yard in a wave that rises and then breaks against the fence, followed a few minutes later by a new wave. My understanding is that they're calling out to their mates, which means every morning what I'm really listening to is one big love song.
Beautiful.