Hangin' in the forest, it's where we love to be. With a couple of our favourite people, talking to the trees.
Flowers of the forest floor, soon they won't be here anymore. They'll be covered with the winter snow, awaiting springs warm, sunny glow.
A nice walk in the forest, breathing the air of the trees. Treading carefully over roots, photographing bumblebees.
Paths of rocks. Paths of roots. Paths of trees, with autumn leaves. People from here. People from there. The people are mine, wherever they are.
On top of the beautiful hills of the Georgian Peaks Ski Resort, overlooking the Bay's cool, blue waters. I skied here a few times, a long time ago. Twisted my ankle on a first run, skied the rest of the day. Walked with crutches, the rest of the month.
Carrying my basket, with everyone else brandishing sharp, little knives; knives to clean cut mushrooms from their roots, we traveled down my little forest path, and into the Simcoe County Forests in search of the Honey Mushroom.
Old friends, teaching us new skills, as we ventured out mushrooming for the first time.
Foraging in the forest, we have done in early spring for wild leeks and fiddle heads. This was our first foraging for mushrooms. Other than the morels and puffballs, that magically appear on our lawn every year.
When researching recipes, and the information that accompanied them, I came to understand the warnings of concerned friends when we told them we were going mushrooming. So we ventured on the safe side, and boiled the Honey Mushrooms before they were sautéed in oil. Thereby eliminating any health risks.
The end result was a delicious side dish, one that we will enjoy every fall, after a day of foraging in the forest.
Looking at the world, through rose coloured glasses. As the winds, and the clouds, roll by. Like thoughts, and ideas, they make smooth passes My feelings; like dots in the sky. Surrounding yourself pleasantly, is difficult sometimes. The flowers, and the trees, aren't always in rhyme. My expectations are like chimes, in what the world finds fair. So different is the light, that my daydreams share.