Subsistence foraging

From some of what I've read, this is the time of year, and the kind of weather, that might have, in the old days, caused Native Americans to eat roots and bark to stay alive. We're fortunate to have more than adequate supplies of food and fresh vegetables in our home. But, in anticipation of (preparation for?) any forthcoming Armageddon, some of the folks who live here thought it might be interesting to learn how to prepare pine bark. Here are photos of the preparation process. Collection photos you'll need to find on your own. There were only two pair of snow shoes, and the collectors didn't take photos.

white pine bark strips         © harrington

separating outer bark and cambium    © harrington

full bowl of cambium            © harrington

"green" fingers stained by outer bark  © harrington

cambium soaking in water   © harrington

draining cambium strips     © harrington

cambium strips on cookie sheet     © harrington

dry in oven (200 degrees, 30 minutes)  © harrington       

dried cambium ready for grinding        © harrington

Kimberly Blaeser helps move us into Spring with her Haiku Journey.

Haiku Journey

By Kimberly Blaeser 

i. Spring

the tips of each pine

the spikes of telephone poles

hold gathering crows

may’s errant mustard

spreads wild across paved road

look both ways

roadside treble cleft

feeding gopher, paws to mouth

cheeks puffed with music

yesterday’s spring wind

ruffling the grey tips of fur

rabbit dandelion

         ii. Summer

turkey vulture feeds

mechanical as a red oil rig

head rocks down up down

stiff-legged dog rises

goes grumbling after squirrel

old ears still flap

snowy egret—curves,

lines, sculpted against pond blue;

white clouds against sky

banded headed bird

this ballerina killdeer

dance on point my heart

         iii. Fall

leaf wind cold through coat

wails over hills, through barren trees

empty garbage cans dance

damp September night

lone farmer, lighted tractor

drive memory’s worn path

sky black with migration

flocks settle on barren trees

leaf birds, travel songs

october moon cast

over corn, lighted fields

crinkled sheaves of white

         iv. Winter

ground painted in frost

thirsty morning sun drinks white

leaves rust golds return

winter bare branches

hold tattered cups of summer

empty nests trail twigs

lace edges of ice

manna against darkened sky

words turn with weather

now one to seven

deer or haiku syllables

weave through winter trees

Northern follows jig

body flashes with strike, dive:

broken line floats up.

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