Wow! What a week!
It all started last Friday when I decided I wanted to pick some wild leeks. I've known for three years that they grow in the area. Last year I actually did a whole lot of research to see what could be done with them. And then, suddenly, leek season was over and I hadn't tried a single one.
So on Friday, I bit the bullet, pulled on the hiking boots and headed for the wild leek pastures. First I crossed the neighbour's fields, spooking Canada geese, wild turkeys and sandhill cranes along the way. Then I headed along the path to The Patch. Flickers and pileated woodpeckers serenaded me, a green-winged teal peeped at me and chickadees flitted from tree to tree above my head. And the path went on and on and on. Finally I realized that The Patch I was thinking of was actually on someone else's property so I decided to turn around to go to The Other Patch. Just before reaching the fields I had crossed previously, I took a right hand turn into the spruce plantation, preferring the natural woods over the flat and open fields.
As so often happens to me when I'm in the forest, I got turned around. Suddenly, around that bunch of trees I discovered that I was actually entering someone's backyard. Go back, go back.
Once again thinking that I travelling in the right direction, I ended up in The Juniper Field. This is one monster of a juniper field; junipers don't just dot the landscape, they fill it entirely.
Still I forged on, thinking I could actually see a path through the junipers. It may not seem possible but the junipers were actually getting thicker........and taller. Before long, I was up to my chin in juniper. My shins were barked from juniper stems. My clothes were covered in juniper needles. I think you probably get the idea......I was swimming in juniper.
And so a decision had to be made - turn around, hoping to find my way back out, to take the fields I had come out through OR push on, having no clue how much further I needed to go before I hit the road. I went on, flushed a ruffed grouse resting under a juniper, snapping over broken branches (something must have been through here before me!), wondering what on earth possessed me to decide to go for leeks in this direction.
Lo and behold, there was a hydro line. I still had to push through several more feet of junipers before I reached the road but at least I was no longer completely lost. Sadly, the hydro line was actually right beside the road and I still had some bushwhacking to do before hitting roadside. Yippee!
So I crossed the road - why did the chicken cross the road? - and entered the forest where The Other Patch could be found. All I found were trout lilies. And blue cohosh. And trilliums. Nice finds but not wild leeks.
Further in, I finally found The Other Patch. I bent over and pulled, expecting the leek to come meekly out of the soil. It didn't. The leaves popped off, the bulb remained deeply embedded in the earth.
Sigh.....I needed a shovel.
And so began the long trudge home. Now this journey home is not normally that long. But I was tired from fighting juniper and blisters were starting to develop on my feet. I was seriously reconsidering my need for leeks.
Home sweet home - the bathroom never looked so good as I voided my full bladder. And then the next decision - do I walk back with spade or do I be incredibly lazy and drive around the corner? I drove.
Half an hour later, I had a bag full of wild leeks. They are definitely not an easy get. Even without wandering through The Juniper Patch, wild leeks are work. Those roots hold on hard. And then there's the cleaning. It's really not so onerous unless one's eyes were too large and one has harvested far too many of the little gems.
Did I learn anything profound from this experience? Maybe.
Why was it that I chose the harder path through the forest rather than the easy path across the fields? Will I ever find my way to the pond again (did I mention the great pond that I'd like to explore some day?)? What does it say about me that I decided to go forward instead of turning around?
Ah, heck, I'm too tired to ponder these questions.
See ya next time.
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