
I’ve been walking each day since the day after I retired and it has made my lungs feel so much better, so I thought I’d tackle climbing Mount Caesar in Swanzey. It was a beautiful spring day of the kind where it really doesn’t matter where you are or where you go, as long as you are outside.

I didn’t know it at the time I started the climb but this would be a day of firsts, and the first first was seeing goldthread (Coptis groenlandicum) growing beside the trail. I can’t remember seeing it here before, though I’ve come here countless times. Any time now I should be seeing its tiny but very pretty white flowers. Once collected almost to the point of extinction, it has made a good comeback and I was happy to see that it had found its way here.

I’ve never seen a striped maple (Acer pensylvanicum) here before either but here was a small tree, quietly lengthening its velvety buds. Those buds are one of the most beautiful sights in the forest in the early spring, in my opinion.

I don’t remember why I took this photo. Maybe to show what a beautiful day it was.

I stopped along the trail for a moment and happened to glance down and saw some small, hard black, cup shaped fungi that I’ve since found are called ebony cup fungi (Pseudoplectania nigrella.) The smallest one was about the size of a pencil eraser and the biggest maybe a half inch across. According to Wikipedia they like to grow in groups on soil, often amongst pine needles and short grass near coniferous trees, and that was the situation here except for mosses instead of grass. Wikipedia also says that they have a worldwide distribution, but are hard to see because of their small size and dark color. I wondered how many times I had walked by them without seeing them. It was just luck that I saw them on this day.

I’ve read that jays, nuthatches and even chickadees stash acorns in holes in trees. This wasn’t a hole but I guess it was good enough for stashing acorns in.

This trail is steadily uphill but it isn’t steep until you near the summit. I think most people could go up and down in an hour or less, as long as they didn’t stop to see anything. Since I stop to see everything, it takes me twice as long.

Here was something I’ll probably never see again. This branch fell from one of those maples and got stuck just as it is. I looked it over and there were no nails or screws, just fate and branch forks in the right places. All it needed was a sign hanging from it.

I was happy to see trailing arbutus (Epigaea repens) growing along the trail. It wasn’t showing any flower buds but this wasn’t a very big plant, so they’ll come along in the future. This is another plant that is making a comeback after being collected almost into oblivion.

A huge tree fell long ago and I always stop here to catch my breath before I reach the steepest part of the trail. I didn’t see them at the time but now that I see the photo my question is, how did those stones get inside the log?

This isn’t just any old log; it has lots of interesting things to see on it no matter where you look, and one of those things is a fungus called ceramic parchment fungus (Xylobolus frustulatus.) Apparently it prefers shade because it only grows on the shaded surfaces of the log, like under that branch stub.

Here is a closer look at the fungus. I’ve never seen anything else like it but a helpful reader identified it the last time I showed it here. Its common name comes from the way it resembles broken ceramic tiles, put back together with black grout. I’ve read that it is found on the dry, well-decayed wood of oaks, so this must be an oak log. What a gigantic tree it must have been.

Here was the steepest part of the trail. I didn’t fly up it but I have to say that all the walking I’m doing has improved my lung power greatly over what it was just a short time ago. I didn’t have to take anywhere near as many breaks as I did the last time I climbed here.

And here was the granite bedrock of the summit itself, where you realize that you’ve been climbing a huge granite dome covered by just a thin skin of soil.

I thought that I might see the red haze caused by millions of red maple flowers from up here but I couldn’t see any at all.

Instead I saw red maple flowers right here on the summit. Some of them can be seen on that tree on the right in this photo I took of clouds.

There weren’t a lot of red maple flowers up here but what were here seemed well balanced between male and female flowers.

The male red maple flowers had that beautiful light, what I call the light of creation, shining out of them. I’ve come to believe that everything created has that light. Sometimes it is dim and other times it shines brightly as it did here, but everything (and everyone) has it.

Staghorn sumac also grew on the summit. They seem to be slow to get going this year, or maybe it is just impatience on my part. They have nice red new leaves coming out of the buds in spring that I’d like to see.

If, when you’re in nature, something catches your eye, just sit with it for a while. While you’re sitting with the thing that interests you, be it a flower or a leaf or a stone or a toadskin lichen, study it. Get to know it. Study it as if you were going to have to write a paper describing it. See every little nuance, its color and shape, feel its texture, hear it whisper or see the movement it makes when the wind blows over it. Just let yourself fall into it. Forget about naming it, forget about missing the game yesterday or going to work tomorrow and just be there with it, without a thought of anything but what is there in front of you.
Take some photos or take some notes, and when you get home look them over. If you do this, before long you’ll know the thing that caught your attention better than you ever thought possible, and doing this regularly will mean the end of your looking but not seeing. Before long you’ll see with new eyes, and you’ll want to see more. Fortunately there is always plenty more to see.
I once met two college age girls coming off a trail. When I asked them if they had seen any wildflowers both said they hadn’t seen a single one. As soon as I had followed the trail for just a few yards I started seeing flowers everywhere. They were small but they were there, and I realized that day that even though some people look, they just don’t see. Don’t be one of them. You’ll miss so much of the beauty in this world.

I took the trail east from the summit for a few yards to see Mount Monadnock. I hope I wasn’t as close to the edge of that cliff as it appears when I took this photo, because it’s a long way down.

That’s better. I cropped the cliff out because heights give me the heebie jeebies and also, we can see the mountain a little better now. Henry David Thoreau said he’d rather see Mount Monadnock from a distance rather than see out from its summit because it was far more beautiful from a distance, and I agree. Once you’re up there it doesn’t look much different than right here does, and this is a much easier climb.

As I started back down the trail three mourning cloak butterflies spun in a whirlwind above my head and then disappeared. Or so I thought; this one landed on a fallen branch just out ahead of me. It sat there with its wings folded, so I waited for them to unfold. They would unfold and then quickly fold back together, and I would miss the shot. I tried and missed several times-anyone who has ever tried to photograph a butterfly knows what I mean-but then finally the beautiful wings opened and stayed open, just long enough to get what you see here.

A little further down the trail there was another one sunning itself on an outcrop. I’ve read that these butterflies mate in spring, which might account for the whirlwind behavior that I saw happening several times. They’re very pretty and I was happy to have seen them. Usually the way it works with me is, once I see something I begin to see it everywhere, so hopefully I’ll see more of these beautiful creatures.

I thought I’d leave you with some good advice I found on the summit. I find these painted stones just about everywhere I go these days.
Butterflies can’t see their wings. They can’t see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can. People are like that as well. ~Naya Rivera
Thanks for stopping in.
What a nice hike! Love the view of Monadnock, and I noticed an area with a few homes nestled in to an otherwise wooded area in those shots, too. Good observations and advice on “seeing”. I always feel sorry for folks who seem to be blind to the incredible beauty of nature. We had an 84°day yesterday – too much too soon!! It cooks the spring bulbs. The tulips last really well when mother nature sticks to the 50s and 60s, but a day in the mid 80s takes a week of their life, so to speak.
I’m so pleased to hear that your walks are providing a/another health benefit for you! Yay, Allen!!
Hi Ginny! I say quite a lot about seeing on this blog so I hope people don’t get tired of hearing it.
I’m sorry to hear that you had such high temps. Chris from Michigan reported the same so since our weather comes from the west or south, it sounds like we’re in for it. It does do the bulbs in, and also a lot of spring wildflowers can’t take it either. I’m hoping we’ll stay in the 60s because I’ve been outside working on neglected garden beds. The scilla blossoms have gone now so I hope I can start hacking at that honeysuckle.
Yes, all this walking has been such a breathing boost that many times I forget to use my inhalers. And I’m losing weight to boot! It’s all made me very happy and I plan on doing a lot more of it. Of course, gardening is excellent exercise too, and there is plenty of that to do here. I hope your own garden chores are going well, and aren’t too much of a burden.
Don’t forget to allow time for the scilla to go to seed before you go tromping all over that garden bed, haha. You can never have too many scilla blossoms!
I’m glad you thought of that, because I didn’t!
I love scilla, so the more the merrier!
Thanks for the reminder.
You do find some many interesting things on your walks. It is good to hear that you are walking every day, and that your lungs are better because of it!
Your photos are very nice, good camera and operator. I’m between cameras right now. I have a nice one but I find my phone is very handy and easy to use.
It was 82 degrees in west Michigan yesterday.
Thanks for the climb, I really enjoyed it.
Wow, that’s too warm too fast for me! I’ve never liked going from winter right to summer, so I guess a cooler spring is best for me.
I know what it’s like to be between cameras so I don’t envy you. I use my phone for trail shots and on this trip I reached down and smudged my finger across the lens of the Canon, so I had to use the phone for that shot of Monadnock as well. I thought it did a good job. What I have trouble with is close ups with it, so I use the Olympus T-6 for those.
I hope you’ll cool off a bit. You must have flowers popping up everywhere!
I liked the quote and that painted stone. I am so pleased to read that the daily walking is improving your lung capacity. Long may that continue.
Thank you. It’s nice to be breathing easier now.
That’s so good to know.
I love your columns and pictures so much. I bought the same camera you just did because of the pictures you take with it. Unfortunately mine don’t come come out anywhere near as clear or beautiful as yours. You don’t take a tripod with you do you? I know I have to stay still while taking the pictures but the ones you take are incredible. I am like you and stop and look around at everything I can see. I also have a dog with me who can be let run loose so it’s even more fun.I can’t explain how much I love your column and your incredible pictures. I especially love the little saying you always put at the end.Thanks for what you do.Loreen
Hi Loreen. Well, have no fear because you bought an excellent camera, and you didn’t waste your money. Without knowing how much photographic experience you’ve had it’s hard to know what to tell you but first off, you should read the manual. It’s online and is excellent. Read especially about ISO settings, autofocus controls, and Macro and microscope modes. That’s where I’d start. Secondly, you should use a photo editor. I use Lightroom but there are many out there. With an editor you can lighten or darken your photos, for instance. They often look a lot different on the computer than they did on the camera!
You should also take multiple photos of your subject. I will often take 5-10 photos of a single flower. I shoot from different angles and try to find the same flowers in different light. Today for instance, I shot cherry blossoms from all sides of the tree they bloomed on because the lighting was so different from side to side. I usually come home with 50 or more photos after a morning’s shooting.
I also almost always use microscope mode on this camera, because I use it strictly for closeups. I can use my other camera, which is a dslr, for everything else. This camera will take photos of things as small as the head of a pin, and it’s very good at it. With a photo editor you can also crop a photo so you can see small things better.
I don’t use a tripod, but I should. This camera has built in image stability, which in theory removes any shakiness but I still get my share of blurry photos. There’s a small tripod called a Gorilla pod I think, which has bendable legs. I thought it might work well with this camera.
I hope this helps. The best thing you can do is practice, practice, practice. I’ve been doing this since the days of film don’t forget, so I’m familiar with a camera.
Thanks very much for being a faithful reader. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help if you still have trouble.
Your advice on how to truly “see” what nature presents should be the preface in every guidebook. Thank you.
Thanks for that, Lynne. I’m always of two minds about saying things like this because I’m afraid people will think I’m trying to tell them how to behave, when in fact I’m just telling them what has worked for me.
You caught it-it is just advice.
Thank you for taking me along on your walk up through early spring this morning. Beauties, wonders & curiosiies everywhere your eyes & lens look & capture for all of us.
You’re welcome. Yes, they are everywhere and I’d love for everyone to see them.