Escape to Pilgrim Spring

Most of the discussion around here centers on the financial crisis raining down upon Americans. Talk of gloom and doom pervades just about everything. Watching Bill Maher or John Stewart makes it worse, because they seem to be getting at the truth, and I don't consider either of these two men to be radical in nature. However, in these are uncertain times, I am determined to find hope, enjoy the freshness of the moment, and commune with nature as much as possible. Escapism or pragmatism, I wonder?

Yesterday was glorious. One of those September days bathed in golden light. Everything looks more beautiful this time of year because the light is so soft and friendly. I love how it's warm in the sun, but as soon as you walk into the shade a real chill sneaks upon you, reminding you of the eternal rhythmic flow of the seasons in New England. Some here find the seasons relentless, but in fact we only have three on the outer Cape: a Winter that lasts almost six months, Summer, and Fall. I am in my element now. Autumn wakes me up and breathes life into my summer-wearied body.

We went walking in Truro again yesterday, this time at the Pilgrim Spring trail. What a beautiful, ethereal place. This trail winds around a kettle swamp and marsh which was formed when a buildup of sand closed off the ocean in 1869. It is alleged to be the spot where the Pilgrims first found fresh water, after landing in Provincetown one week prior. 

Rambling through the forest on a trail carpeted with pine needles, we emerged on a hill overlooking a salt marsh and discovered the most beautiful sand dunes. It felt like we were moving within a living and breathing painting, so beautiful was the scenery. One can easily imagine why Thoreau was so captivated with the Cape. And also why it is now populated with outcasts, miscreants, and people who have some reason to hide.

In case you're wondering, we fit into the first and third categories.

Saturday Morning Granola

With a chill in the air, it seemed a good morning to spend in the kitchen before everyone else in the house stirred. After making a cup of Sencha green tea, I decided to tuck in and warm the kitchen with delicious smells. 

What could be better than waking up out of a sound sleep, coaxed by the smells of baking food? I first set out to roast some butternut squash left from our farm share that ended last week. In fact, my cupboard is filled with autumn squashes from the farm -- butternuts, kabochas, and hard pale green pattypans. Not to mention garlic and potatoes. From farm to table, what could be better (unless it was our farm!)?

As the squash for afternoon pies roasted, caramelizing and getting sweeter with every minute, I set out to make granola for morning breakfast. We like to have it with yogurt and a fruit compote when we're on the run. It's a powerful and healthy snack. The ingredients change as the season changes.

Autumn Granola to Last a Week

1 bag organic rolled oats (approximately 6 cups)

1 cup organic walnuts, roughly chopped

1 cup organic almonds, roughly chopped

1 cup organic shredded, unsweetened coconut

1/2 cup organic tan sesame seeds

1/2 cup organic wheat germ

1/2 cup organic pumpkin seeds

1/2 cup organic sunflower seeds

1/2 cup hemp seeds

Mix all the ingredients (except the hemp seeds) in a bowl.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan melt the following:

1/4 cup coconut oil

1/2 cup organic maple syrup, grade B

When the coconut oil and maple syrup have thoroughly combined, remove from the stove and add 1 tb pure Vanilla extract.

Combine the dry and wet ingredients. Place the granola on two cookie sheets lined with natural parchment paper. Bake in a 300 degree oven approximately 45-60 minutes or until pale brown, stirring every 10 minutes or so. Remove from the pan to cool, and add the hemp seeds. Once cool, store in a sealed container.  

September Walks and Food

Yesterday afternoon we went for a really lovely walk in the Pamet Hills of Truro. Parking near the Youth Hostel, we walked up Bearberry Hill to overlook the Atlantic. It's amazing how the appearance of the ocean can turn so unfriendly without you noticing. What was very recently a playground to frolic, now looks ominous and dangerous, and somehow lonely, as the white caps crash over the steely blue expanse. Sometimes the ocean here looks bigger than the sky, and a lot less friendly. 

We trekked up and down the hills, past bogs and dormant lilly ponds. The air was cold, with just a hint of Autumn chill. Small blue flowers dotted the landscape, along with the goldenrod responsible for everyone's recent allergies. The wind was strong, causing the leaves on the trees in the knoll to show their silvery backs in the breeze. We were the only one's there to notice the poetry of the silvery orchestra of branches.

Soon we were in the forest on a narrow sand path, winding up and down, pushing brush out of our way, past a wealth of mushrooms and faintly scented pine trees. There is something very humbling about being alone in the wilderness. It makes one feel very small, and yet at the same time an integral part of something so massive it fails the imagination. 

My Asian friends believe that walking in pine forests is good for one's health and promotes a healthy respiratory system. I twisted off a piece of tender green pine and crushed it between my fingers to release the scent. Breathing deeply, I felt very connected to everything and oddly at peace. 

We finally emerged from the forest onto a steep bluff overlooking the restless sea. Someone had placed two wooden benches there. How many people have sat there, I wondered? The benches were weathered and bowed, and for all appearances neglected. Yet, there we were sipping hot kukicha tea and having a picnic.

It was a nice way to spend a Friday afternoon.