Walking to Dyer Pond and Beyond ...

This weekend Sven and I took a walk to Dyer Pond. It was the first weekend in months without guests, a pleasant experience if I do say so myself. Months and months of welcoming strangers into your house makes you appreciate solitude all the more when it happens to come. The wind whipped through the denuded trees above our heads. Underfoot, pine needles crunched as we marched along. The cushion measured almost an inch in some places. Here and there mushrooms popped up through the underbrush.

We didn’t say much. The wind was blowing, which made conversation difficult. Conversation is not always appropriate on walks anyway. We reached Dyer Pond in a dozen minutes or so.

“Shall we keep walking?” I asked.

Sven was game, so we continued on to Great Pond. As soon as we had reached Turtle Pond, I noticed something unusual: two fishermen in a boat, above. I wondered if they knew the fish were dangerous to eat, full of mercury? Perhaps they were merely fishing for sport, and throwing back what they caught? And, how did they get the boat into this mostly unknown pond? Were they locals? Probably.

Great Pond was very peaceful. The peace made me reflect on all the craziness in the modern world. Nature speaks if one bothers to listen: no one in touch with nature goes to war willingly or puts profit before the well-being of others, as Monsanto seems to be doing with its power grab on seed companies and reluctance to admit Roundup Ready seeds don't work. They require more herbicide, not less.

Glyphosate is one of four herbicides NStar intends to spray under the power lines. It is a toxic chemical that, to quote the article above, has "potentially devastating impacts on our health." Do we want traces of glyphosate in our drinking water? I think not.

As we turned away from Great Pond, I thought to myself, that’s the top of our sole-source aquifer, a fact I learned at a meeting of the Non-Resident Taxpayers Association this summer. Pretty amazing!

On the way back, we passed …. Yes, mushrooms, lots of them. It occurred to me that two weeks from now two mycologists are coming to stay at Chez Sven. One of them, Laurence Millman, will be leading a magnificent mushroom walk on Sunday, December 4 from 1 to 4 at Mass Audubon. Get your tickets today!

Two Comments: One Positive, One Negative

Happy Labor Day, everyone!

In August, a blog reader bothered to comment on a very old post. It was about which Wellfleet’s kettle ponds are personal favorites. Anonymous wrote in the comment, “I figure Sven's must be Great Pond since he goes down on our private beach every year and sits in our chairs and enjoys the view without ever leaving even a note of thanks.”

It is true that during the spring, fall, and winter, we sometimes walk around the ponds. It’s quiet, peaceful, and deserted. No one is around. All the second-home owners have gone home to the city where they live. The beauty of the National Seashore is free for all to enjoy. The words “private beach” make no sense at such moments.

Sven, who is 73, sometimes gets tired and will rest while I take photos for this blog. And, yes, sometimes he sits down on a log, overturned boat, chair, or whatever happens to be handy. The world needs more generous-minded folks, like my husband. Private beaches do not exist in Sweden, his country.

Mean-spirited comments are very rare, thank goodness. At about the same time, I was contacted by a high school friend who found me through an ad for the bed & breakfast and calls herself a “fan” of this blog. Charlotte wrote, “I’ve just returned from the internet café in the little seaside town of Rapallo, in Liguria, where I’m staying for most of August. I went to check my e-mail and your daily blog entry. I don’t know how you do it. All the hard work and long hours in running a successful B&B are truly admirable. You’re a veritable Wonderwoman!”

You can easily guess which comment made my day. Much nicer to be compared to Wonderwoman than criticized for trespassing, don’t you think?