• Far, Far Away in Pipa-Us-I


    Thursdays are one of my tofu making days. It’s a quiet, peaceful thing to do, and gives me a chance to travel. Japan may have more train buffs than anywhere, and many of them record entire train rides, hours long. Pick any train line in Japan, and you can find numerous recordings of the entire line from start to end.

    This morning, as I made my tofu, I was on the Furano Line in Hokkaido, watching the scenery unfold from Asahikawa to Furano. The train stopped at a station with an unusual name, Bibaushi 美馬牛, which translates to Beautiful Horse Cow, which made me research how that station got such an unusual name, which led me to discover that the name came from the Ainu name Pipa-Us-I, which means river of many mussels.



    With today’s bread, egg, and tofu deliveries ready, I get to stop along the way to enjoy trumpeter swans feeding in muddy fields. How many tofu makers pass trumpeter swans on their deliveries?

  • Flying Sheep


    A bicycle ride to the post office is a chance to see Chuckanut Mountain in one of its winter moods. On the fields across the road from Bow Hill Blueberries the swan are grazing.


    From a distance, flocks of swans look like flocks of sheep until they flap their wings and take off.

  • Forest Humor


    What are those blooms? I thought when I walked past the noble fir we bought as a live Christmas tree a number of years ago, and planted. They weren’t flowers, they were the cones which had either shed many of their seeds, or had their seeds eaten by birds or chipmunks.


    They look like odd forest creatures lined up on the branches. There is always something in the forest to bring on a smile.



    A pileated woodpecker doesn’t waste any time pecking out chunks of a dead alder as it searches for grubs. It flew away before I could take its picture. Talk about not minding your manners and leaving a mess.

  • World Famous Airborne Moss Gardens


    A narrow strip of land from northern California to southwestern British Columbia is the home of the only palmatum group of maples found outside of Asia, Acer circinatum – Vine Maple. How did they get here? Seeds carried on winds from Japan? Maybe a Siberian swan wintering in Japan took some seeds stuck in its feathers back to Siberia where it fell in love with a swan from the Skagit Valley, and as they preened each other, the seeds embedded in the feathers of the Skagit Valley swan who brought it here, and the seeds fell into the forest, maybe even this very forest thousands of years ago, and from here Acer circinatum spread to California and BC? Maybe I should put up a sign saying this is the very spot Acer circinatum first grew on the Pacific coastal belt of North America.

    In midwinter when its leaves are gone, the long, twisting vines of this maple become airborne moss gardens. I would like to say world famous airborne moss gardens, but in a way its good that they aren’t famous, they aren’t even Skagit famous, otherwise the woods would be overrun with world tourists, arriving by the busloads, fresh off the jets, trampling through the woods to ooh and ahh and take selfies with them.


    With no worry of a busload of tourists suddenly appearing, I can take my time adoring the cuteness of baby moss barely clinging to the narrowest of vine maple branches.


    With no tourists bumping into me, I can let my mind fantasize that the moss growing on vine maples is the slowest growing moss in the world, and that just to get to the size of thumb takes a hundred years, though looking at the vine maple branch, that branch is a long ways from being a hundred years old which it would have to be if that fluff of moss was that old.



    Perhaps in just a year or two, I won’t know for sure until I tag some baby moss and see how big it gets in a few years, the airborne moss gardens are lush and mini worlds of their own.

  • Let There be Dust


    Months of rain make having dry places for the chickens a must. Rolling around in the dust is a favorite pastime of the chickens. Sunshine pouring down on them as they roll around in the dust is just a fantasy this time of year. Come spring with days of warm sunshine, and the chickens will be dancing for joy during their dust baths. On these endless cloudless days, a dry spot will do use fine.






    Lee is not happy that the nest she wants to use to lay her egg is occupied. Her frustration is mounting, but Ruby couldn’t care less. There are empty nests on either side of Ruby, but Lee wants that one. It has to be that one, it just must, the world will end if she doesn’t get to use that nest.