The scent of autumn

 It is here. That time of year when the year draws to a close. As with old age, things start withering, but there is also an air of one last violent flourishing, of ripening fruit and flourishing herbs, of sprouting mushrooms, violently pushing out from the dark. It is here. That time of the year, when mists waft through the darkening woods, and the sounds grow silent, until silence is all that remains.

I went out in the woods, following narrow trails seldom trod, relishing in the silence and the twilight as in a precious dark red wine long dispensed with, enjoying all those colours becoming so much more vivid and elegant.

 European Rowan berries (Sorbus Aucuparia, in German: Vogelbeere, Ebereschenbeere). They are rich with Vitamin C, but also with Paraascorbin acid, which is laxative. Therefore rowan berries should not be eaten unprocessed.  I collected some for gin. Take two handfuls for one litre of Vodka, cover with Kandis sugar or honey. But first let them rest in watered vinegar for three days. Then take them out, rinse them with water, and process them further. You can also make jam from them! If you suffer from mild food poisoning and are absolutely sure of your diagnosis, you can use them as a purgative.

 On I wandered through the darkening woods, still in their green dress. Ever so powerful, this tree grew through this pitchfork. The tree survived. The pitchfork is falling prey to the tooth of time, and its rusty colour is becoming more and more becoming a part of the fallen leaves in colour and substance to give nourishment to all those creatures of the underground dwelling on the decay of the living.

 Few if any consider that the mushrooming part of the mycelium is but the smallest part.

 Deep down in the darkness there dwells the root, and the human soul mirrors the sprouting mushrooms, in that mind and body are but protrusions of that which lies submerged...

 And thusly I wandered, deeper into the woods, where man does not tread. In stealth I went, barefoot and calm, into a realm where light is dim and strange the sounds that reach our ear. Here there is no modern man, and even the most civilized human being realizes with fear and terror that his well-mended world is but a surface embellishment. Reality there thrives violently and without mercy, and cares not for human care nor value.

 But paths there are for those who dare to tread them.

 And light there is, ever so much brighter in the dark.

 For woods come to a clearing, and there is rest... I sat down and had a cuppa tea and whittled some shavings and did some stumpsitting...

Near my resting place I came across this little caterpillar. Don´t know what it is or what it´s called, but beautiful it was.

 And a wasp spider building its net, weaving artfully and beautifully - the death of its prey. Such is nature: Beautiful and wicked at the same time...

 I came to the foot of the hills when the light drew to a close, and I ventured farther into the murky woods...

 Sloe (prunus spinoza, in German: Schlehe). I collected some for gin and jam...

 ´shrooms!!!! Bay boletus and boletus in fact, and quite some impressive ones... I took several home to dry. I use to dry them with a dousing of salt and some herbs. That way you have a great instant mushroom soup....;-)

I arrived upon the hill at dusk.

And while I waited for the bus my mind was racing brim full with the experience. I find it becomes harder to adapt to this funny postmodern society the more I venture into the twilight. But, this question remains to be asked: Which is more important?

A winterday´s ride with tea and a sunset

 It had snowed the other day, and I figured I make the best out of the situation, so I dressed up in warm clothing and got my new bike out. I built it myself out of new and old parts, but the frame is courtesy of Dennis from metal motion bikeshop, and boy, I can´t thank them enough. It simply rides great, long, but not too long, with a nimble and light feel in spite of being a sturdy construction. Even under the circumstances, technical trail riding was a cinch and a lot of fun. I must get accustomed to the feel when hopping around, but that´s only because the whole geometry is very different to my old bike, the trusty Norco many of my readers are still accustomed to.

 When I arrived at my favourite oak tree atop the hill, the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. All was silent, and cold, and the tree was fast asleep. It is somewhat remarkeable, how silent things become in winter. Everything gets so much slower, and just we modern-day over-civilized humans forget that winter is an altogether different challenge. The running and buying and racing around Chrismas time we do is outright ridiculous. But I won´t change the world. Myself I can change, and I do.

 For there I sat down and had a cuppa tea. I would say I contemplated, or meditated, but I just sat there and breathed in the cold and brisk winter air and sipped my tea. It was really nothing I thought of, and I enjoyed it.

 Slowly the sun sank, going from a pale snow-laden yellow to darker orange, gildening the heath I sat on, and painting pictures into the forest.

 The oak leaves glowed orange, then in a fiery red; this is the fairies gold, and only a fool would have a greed to possess it in any other way than just sitting on a stump;-) enjoying it. The light is born, the dark is fading!

At the root of the oak tree with the tree stems there grows this little fir. I find this beautiful.

 Oh, and Asrun insisted to see a really lousy Gotland sheath. here it is. Now you know why I hadn´t posted it;-). But honesty lives longest, and here it is:

When the sun was setting and twilight started to cover the world, I looked into the sky, and there they were-the havens of twilight;-) where the grey elven ships sail towards a forlorn west;-). I took out my head lamp and rode home, my heart filled with the deep and secretive peace of winter.

Another Spring hike

Today the road went ever on and on again;-) and I decided to do some walking into the hills again and to look after my saptappingsystem;-).

The sun was shining, and it was quite warm. Along the creek I went. Birds were singing again, and I saw the sorrel sprouting. I had some and took some with me for salad.

Besides The creek the wild pigs were having an apparently great time turning everything upside down;-)

Woe and alas;-), the lake was still frozen! It is a predam of the larger dam, and quite shadowy, and that might havbe done the trick. And the nights down here are pretty damn cold still. 

Nearing my refuge in the woods. Those are some cliffs I like very much. As a kid, we build shelters and even fortresses and mines into the cliffs. They are still there, and I walked on the traces of my childhood.

Well, that´s an old well;-). I often wonder if there are secrets to be dug out of it, having found many great tools and even two rusty (and non-functional) 98K carbines in the lake, when the dam had to be repaired...;-).

In this tree I saw a pair of bluetits flirting and fluttering around, and singing ever so sweet.

But suddenly, it went all BANG! and two rare animals indeed came crushing down the slope like an avalanche. This blue - tit wanted to flirt with me, but I wouldn´t.;-) It´s Martin, a.ka. enemy, uumm, eminem;-) a moron from our team;-).

Martin, lost in the woods and looking for a line;-).

And Bastian, apparently enjoying himself for smashing my joys of solitude.;-)

Okay, I admit it, at first I was not very amused. But who am I to claim all the woods for myself? Wanted to do some stump-sitting, did that, too, and even had my cuppa, and a chat"on top". Had a funny time with those chaps. Then I made on and even got some solitude in. No harm done, eh?;-) But funny, how you meet people in the middle of nowhere, and how funny one gets when doing too much stump-sitting;-).

Hope you enjoyed the photos!

Some stump sitting and spoon carving

Today there was some fine weather, and I got a day off, so I decided to look after the birch I tapped, and maybe do some´crafting;-) and general stump sitting. So I made a flask of tea, packed something to whittle and to eat, saddled my steed and made for the woods. The weather was fine as I started, and I rode through the forest in dazzling, pale sunlight for about one and a half hour. Climbed a fire road to the mountain peakie (it´s called "Wahl", and there´s an airbase for Cessnas on top of it). Then it was some fireroad downhill to one of my favourite places, a light birch forest. Along the trail I found a pieceof beech, a little rotten and decided it would make a fine noggin. Set up"camp";-) and had a cuppa and then it was out with the Moras. The weather, however, soon deteriorated, but no harm done.

I quickly had to learn my would-be noggin was rotted through. I carved away all the rotten parts, and I think I will simply fit a separate bottom out of dry wood for it to shrink against it, and left it at that. had some birch wood with me to carve a BIG spoon, and started that, too.

It´s sort of funny, how quickly you get in a meditative mindset when sitting on a stump and just whittling away. It was just me, and the trees, and the lake, and the bloody rain;-).From time to time I just took a sip of tea, and had a sandwich and some apples, but most of the time it was this subconscious state of mind you achieve by just being and breathing through. It was calming, and soothing, to just sit there.   

That´s the spoon. The top knife is "Skogsrunarminni" (I remember the runes of the forest), a laminate bladeI forged at my old home, with a dirt forge. The ferrule is aged and peened copper, the handle carved reindeer antler. My old home is just some 400 m away from that place.I found that quite a funny experience, even if it´s not hurting as badly any more as it used to. Below is a Mora spoon knife. There are people believing that Moras are crap, for they come in so cheap. I can´t relate to that at all. It´s one hell of a knife, and the only reason I want to forge one myselfis that I...ummm... want to forge one myself;-)? 

Anyway, I whittled the hours away, and thought, and let my mind wander, and had some tea and some food, and punched another hole in my tapping system, and sat on a stump, and got wet through, and remained sitting on my stump, had another tea and thought some more.

Then I decided it was getting bloody cold, and did some funny jumping to warm up for the bastard of a trail that passes there, and did some stretching and flexing my hands and lowered the saddle as far as it would go, and had some severe smiling as I rode down that trail, too.