Imagine Feeling Moss for the First Time
Or smelling your first rose.
I’ve had a wonderful time this week introducing Little Fawn to the wild world. I’ve been walking around showing her flowers or taking her outside to see if she notices the goldfinch flitting about.
At last we’ve had frost in the south of Georgia. Mornings the pastures are white and sere. I wrap the baby in a blanket in the morning and show her the white pastures. I show her the sun throwing pretty pink and orange colors into the sky. By afternoon the day is warm, and I can stand Little Fawn in a patch of moss. At night I take her outside and show her the Cedar Moon. “Moon,” I say.
Phenology
Freezing temperatures at night mean that certain trees are getting colorful. Red maples are red now. The sweet gum is especially vivid, with a startling range of colors to its leaves, from light yellow to a burgundy so deep it’s almost black. (Photo far below.)
Yesterday I took a 2-mile walk along the woods line with Little Fawn. I found a fairy ring of Amanita persicina, cousin to muscaria but less red. Only four mushrooms were in the ring, which circled a small pine, but I believe more will pop. I intend to collect them, because as you know their nickname is Shamanita.
The bird of the week is robins. They are hanging around the neighborhood, singing from the bare limbs of trees.
I saw the first violet of the season. These usually pop around Groundhog Day, so they’re six weeks early.
Farm Report
Hay
Frost has left the pastures completely brown. This means that the cows, mule, and horses are living on hay. They stand around hay rings all day, eating. When the cows’ hay supply gets low they look toward the house and bellow incessantly. So every few days Raven cranks the old Dave Brown tractor, uses the forks to lift a round from under the tobacco barn, and drives out to the hay ring in the pasture.
Horse Chores
I noticed this week that the horses’ hooves are getting ragged. This means that I’ll need to call the farrier soon. Chores like this—trimming hooves—make farm life not a simple one but very complicated. So much maintenance has to happen, and my head gets filled with reminders and my to-do list grows long. That saps time and energy from writing. I quoted Rilke a lot when I talk about this. Rilke wrote, “Somewhere there is an ancient enmity between daily life and the great work. Help me in saying it, to understand it.” On the other hand, in his Letters to a Young Poet, he advised his friend not to write love poems but to write from the material of his daily life. So there’s that.
Standing on their ragged hooves,
manes and tails tangled,
the horses wait for me to feed them.
The hour is late, past sunset,
before I show up with their oats.
Their parasite medicine sits in its box
by the door of the house, waiting
to be administered. Forgive me,
I say to them, I have been writing
love poems.
The Garden
We don’t have much in the garden. Right now we can eat kale, there’s a bit of arugula and lettuce, and I think we have plenty of parsley and cilantro. Maybe there’s broccoli and cabbage. I haven’t even gone out to check.
Sweet Potatoes
The sweet potatoes are still underground. I dug a few for Thanksgiving soufflé and didn’t have time to cure them in the sun. The skin doesn’t peel well from baked potatoes when they’re fresh. I have to get those sweet potatoes dug and dried.
Garlic
The garlic, which lives in opposite fashion to everything else, meaning it grows in winter, is 6-8 inches out of the ground. When I need some, I dig a few bulbs with a shovel. I use it as is, washing off the dirt and chopping up the bulb and the leaves. My favorite is the Marriage Garlic, a heirloom elephant garlic that a woman gave me at a seed swap in Tifton many years ago. It had been given to her with the admonition to plant it near her doorway—as long as the garlic grew the marriage would last. About elephant garlic, it’s hard to kill.
Narcissus
The very first paperwhites are blooming.
In Personal News
The frost-white landscape matches my mood these days—remote and quiet.
But every root-tip inside me is yet alive. They are gathering energy, waiting, even now showing signs of growth. Nothing is lost. Soon the radicals will begin again to push their way through mineral soil. Through dark matter. Toward the world we know is possible.
Superpowers want people to feel baffled and disoriented. I am not. I am thinking carefully, staying quiet, watching the golden sun turn the trees golden.
Coming Up in Trackless Wild
Next week: fruitcake recipes!
I’ve decided to tell you the entire story of Little Fawn. I’ve started writing it and I’m hoping to publish it two weeks from now.
Anything else you’d like me to offer you? Would you like to hear how the Walter Parks concert went at Cedar Grove Church?
A Problem With Journaling School
Normally here I would market the Sunday Sessions that are starting in January, but I discovered that disruptors, scammers, or AI bots were registering in large number. I wrote about it in yesterday’s Rhizosphere called “I Have a Problem and I Need Your Help.” I’m getting lots of great advice and am still figuring out what to do, but for now I have to ask you not to sign up. I’ll get a plan in place for secure Zoom sessions and will post something next week.
Ready To Sign Up for a Writing Course With Me?
My signature creative nonfiction course is starting up in early 2025. It meets on Tuesdays from 7-9 pm Eastern, starts Jan. 14, 2025, and runs for 8 weeks. In addition, you can get on at 6 pm for Social Hour. We also add an Open Mic to the course, so plan on 9 sessions.
For a few years I required an essay to be written during the semester. Then I decided that was too much, that folks should be able to write or not as they wished. Now I want to return to asking for a completed essay. Of course it’s optional, but I’d like for you to be able to devote a bit of each day to your writing.
I hope you join me. I’d love to work with you. You can find out more information and register at my website.
Last Call for Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa, & Minnesota—I’ll Be There Jan to March
I’m teaching creative writing at Beloit College during Winter 2025, from late January to mid-March. If you live within about 4 hours of Beloit, I may be able and willing to do an in-person event for your university or bookstore or nonprofit organization or church or synagogue or hardware store (!). I’m also interested in organizing a couple of all-day writing workshops. If you have any interest, be in touch, and please pass the word to your friends in these places. This window is closing soon. Thank you!
Reminder for End of Year: Check Auto-Renew
If you are a paid subscriber to this newsletter, I want to warn you about something—Substack will auto-renew. To change this, go into your Substack settings, find “auto-renew,” and let the system know that you don’t want this feature. On the other hand, if you intend to support my work as long as this newsletter is published, then auto-renew takes the effort out of subscribing. I thank you sincerely.
If you are a paying subscriber but your financial circumstances change and you need to cancel your subscription, no worries. I am here to help your life go well.
A couple of years ago, when I turned on the option to pay, I set the subscription rate high. All of my content was free and commenting was free, so I knew that any subscribers would be supporters of the arts in general and my work in particular. I was wildly pleased when so many people signed on to support writing they believe in. At the moment the yearly rate is $99. I intend to lower this subscription rate at the end of 2024.
If you want to continue with me, I’m happy for your company, your input, your advice, and your desire for community, meaning, and love.
With unwavering hope,
Janisse
Happy Winter Solstice to You and Yours
Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024 at 4:21 a.m.
i would love to hear about the walter parks concert if you can find/ make the time to tell us about it. love to fawn. is her goats milk formula agreeing with her?
So lovely, Janisse, your heart so revealed through the senses. How lucky is Little Fawn!