mer: (Alice in Wonderland)
I got lost in New York. Only a little lost though, driving back from Mt. Kisco to South Salem. I found my way rather well, considering; I never had to backtrack, which--in my world--means that you weren't lost at all, you just took the scenic route.

Along the way, I found a little wilderness called Carolin's Grove. And it had some magnificent pine trees, along with magnificent pine cones.

Tree digression. )

I thought [livejournal.com profile] sunnydecho might want a giant pinecone. So I picked one up. And thought, "How odd, the thing has sprouted!"




But then I looked closer and realized the thing was a tiny mushroom!




The very next cone I flipped over had even more and bigger mushrooms growing out of it, which you can see if you click through on any of the pictures above.

Then I flipped thirty more cones and found no more tiny mushroooms. It was totally luck of the draw that I found the special ones right off the bat. I put them both back where I found them, and took one of the more boring cones home to Sunny.

Now, if I were [livejournal.com profile] asakiyume, I would write you a clever and moving origin story of these tiny mushrooms. But since I am not, I will go work on my book.
mer: (Default)
I came home late from a dinner party last night. As I was getting out of the car, I heard a strange noise, but couldn't pinpoint what it was over the rustling of my coat and the slamming of the car door. Soccer hooligans? In the suburbs of Michigan? At 12:50 AM? In January?

I decided to crunch over the ice-snow ridges on the driveway to get the mail. The noise came again, and stopped me in my tracks: an owl, hooting. And then, louder, lower, and further away, an answering hoot.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Silence. I got the mail. Paused, shivering at the garage door, heard the call and answer one more time, marveling at the unexpectedness. I couldn't decide if there really were neighborly owls, or if there'd been a prison break and the escapees were using owl calls as code. Regardless, I couldn't stand the cold any longer, and went inside.

Tonight, I did a little googling. Apparently, owls mate in January and February. This is prime owl courtship time. I never knew! I don't hang around outside much on January and February nights, because it's, you know, freaking cold. And the noises don't come through the windows at our house, I guess.

Anyway. Snow, stars and owl-love. Happy New Year, everyone.

April 2015

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