On Thanksgiving, we took our thankfulness to the land.
Something inwardly restless, fiery and feral, has been bucking against captivity. Despite cooling temperatures, I am drawn outdoors longer and longer each day. It is my good fortune to have family and friends that will accept the invitation for adventure.
This time, it all began with smoked milk.
Folk traditions bring out my own brand of crazy.
Inspired by Cauldrons and Crockpots, we used Thanksgiving as an excuse to make exotic hot chocolate. Uncle Shaners, ever a friend in kitchen mischief, was my accomplice.
Taking four cups of goat milk, a self-igniting charcoal (next time I’d use a briquette), pine bark and spill and some janky maneuvering, we imparted the most exquisite flavor of deep forest and fall mornings. Add to that rich dark chocolate and Jameson whiskey and well…I’m not exaggerating when I say it was one of the top five gastronomical delights of my life.
We bottled up two thermoses, and a picnic of butternut squash soup, Shane’s falafels and hummous, raw pumpkin fudge and drove down to Purisima Creek Redwoods. Ravenous at the trailhead, we sat down to feast by the side of the road.
Jeff demonstrating the size of vessel he’d like his smoked hot cocoa in.
This was only the second time I’ve ever been part of a totally vegetarian Thanksgiving. Usually I bring the non-meat option to family gatherings. I wasn’t aware of how much the dead bird dampened the holiday for me, until we celebrated without it. All parts of my heart were able to come to the table, and while I’m sure there will be future meals with deceased turkeys, this was a good reminder to advocate for just exactly what I need. A younger self, one dedicated to protecting wild animals and who took up Artemis as her muse, was delighted without the compromise.
Enter the wyldwood.
Time deepened and I entered into conversation with the forest. She told me tales of mycorrhizal webs, consciousness under the earth and trees entwined in rootsy friendship. Laughing, she wove frayed filaments with ferny fingers and beckoned my feet to slow. Lush compost sang forest propaganda for the organic life.
Does this remind anyone else of Lord Okkoto? Two people understood that. For the rest of you, can you see the boar?
I’ve recently begun working with The Wildwood Tarot. I would give it a mixed review, but our Thanksgiving walk certainly held some of that deep forest magic.
How was your Thanksgiving?
So have you entered the giveaway yet? Your magical garden will attract plant devas like boozers to an open bar. That’s not quite the metaphor, but anyway…if you’ve got a hankering for mystery, I can supply.
I’ll be back on friday with our regularly scheduled programming.