I’ve had my eye on this young lady for a couple of weeks. She’s been hanging out by the steps off of the front terrace. Although I checked on her every day, her adolescence took forever. But this morning, when I stepped out with a cup of hot tea, I discovered that she was blossoming! Poppies open quickly, particularly when …
Our lows are in the forties now—great sleeping weather!—and the first yellow lines lace the leaves like veins in a body. In two weeks gigantic splashes of yellow (aspens) and persimmon (serviceberry) will splash the hillsides as if a greater power had a temper tantrum with a handful of crayons. Random groves of flame-tipped aspens will flambouyantly overshadow everything. While …
In a few months I’ll be cross-country skiing while humming Christmas carols—a sobering thought. So like everyone else in my valley I’m madly squeezing in every last drop of outdoor activity while the sun shines warmly. That means golf and fly-fishing, gardening and mushrooming. A world of porcinis (boletus) still awaits me on the mountains, but the weather is getting …
“The hills are alive . . .” with MUSHROOMS! I thought the harvest was winding down, but I was so wrong! We’re having a banner year, our mountaintops still littered with porcini. (Boletus, if you’re into Latin.) An afternoon of foraging netted a few baby porcinis and two or three fine examples of king (or prince) boletus—the best …
