hiking to goat lake with some lovelies on the way

this way...

cool...
damp, misty air with the sweet scents of spring flowers, cedar, moss, and a frothy river...

 to give all of this to Palestine would be my greatest wish...
there is a treasure of freshest water beneath that land

it's too sad for me to leave...

we need to go back!

Hawaii calling

 ring...ring...it's time to go...

they are finally opening

little things

this is what happens when i am not looking where i am going

too busy looking for frogs and such...

Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things

 

 















Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,

feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho

lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone

who journeyed through the night with plans

and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the crowd of the world to say

it is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you everywhere

like a shadow or a friend.

-Naomi Shihab Nye

a poem

Wherever you are is called Here

 
















Lost

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

~ David Wagoner

Nettles.

Yikes!

Here's a recipe for spring!

Dagestani Pelmeni with Nettles

300g young Nettles

260g Flour

2 Eggs

50g Onions

20g Butter

some Lovage

Mix flour, eggs, salt, and enough warm water to make a dough.

Rest it for 30 min.

Roll out to a 2mm thickness.

While dough is resting...

wash and cut up the Nettles,

chop Onions and saute them in butter.

Mix with the Nettles.

Cut the dough into circles, place some filling on half of the square and fold over.  Pinch shut and form as in picture above.

Bring lots of salt water to a boil, add Pelmeni.

Cook until they float plus an extra 2-5 minutes.

Drain and eat!

Note:  They can be frozen uncooked.  Simply toss them in the boiling pot frozen when needed.

*this recipe from an east German book about wild, edible plants.

'Wildwachsende Pflanzen in unsere Ernaehrung" by Koschtschejew

It looks like it was translated from Russian.  I think it is a very interesting book because it illustrates very common weeds that can be found easily and then provides traditional recipes for them.

Harvest Nettles when the Lovage starts to grow.