Critter cutters

I love animals. The older I get (and the years are accumulating impressively), the more I love animals. The beautiful red fox I watched traverse a snowy field this winter is happily fixed in my mind as a magnificent gift-- his or her lovely, bushy tail flowing along behind. The birds back this spring are all warmly welcomed, as are the rabbits and other creatures who never left. Although for reasons unknown rabbits are seldom seen right here in Lost Hollow, I often notice them by the cabin on the way out to the road. I am most likely to see the foxes around there too, as well as red-tailed hawks. That combination may not tell the story I would like, but such are the realities of nature.

Somehow a small catalog from a place called Fancy Flours arrived in my mailbox. Most catalogs get recycled upon arrival, but I am a baker and this one caught my eye. It has everything for decorating cakes and making candy, despite those being activities in which I do not engage beyond their simplest home-based forms. However, the little catalog also has molds and cutters to which I do relate

(squirrels, acorns, bunnies, foxes, owls). When I send an order in, I am sure some worker never guesses how I use their products—that is, for clay play. As much as I love animals, I am no artist. While drawing a fox in clay could result in massive misinterpretation, my cutters give them clarity and sometimes even personality. The same with the owls--the cutters turn them from birds of prey to cute.
 


I listened to owls in our woods all winter, and welcomed the return of the whip-poor-wills for some evening variation. The latter are creatures of mystery, indeed, not even having nests but laying their eggs on the ground and somehow migrating clear to Mexico or Central America while hardly ever being sighted. I grew up hearing them in New York, but I never saw one until my 69^th year when a whip-poor-will perched on the wall behind our house and sang and sang his or her distinctive mantra. Truly masters of camouflage, you will never see a whip-poor-will on my pots for it would be much too difficult to depict or discern. But those wonderfully visible foxes,  owls, rabbits, and many other creatures of the forest? Look for those and you will find!

Arctium Lappamay?

I found this year’s first haul of burdock leaves along the driveway where we recycle our non-compostables. I got some odd looks from drivers of big trucks as they drove by me merrily clipping the weedy leaves with my husband’s Leatherman.  Arctium lappamay may be maligned in the books as a “troublesome weed,” and it lacks any American botanical market or cultivation potential – although some Brits and Europeans make tea with the roots. It casts burrs (hence the name) that tangle into any passing animal’s fur, and is about as unpopular a plant as one can find. But those lovely, dark green leaves are big and leathery, and their beautiful veining makes incise fascinating ridges when pressed into my clay.

I made a dozen great platters, bowls and pots with my gleanings from the recycling center! Soon the burdocks will practically come to me in several places along our lane and then in the deeply shaded roots of a huge old maple beside the creek. I aim for the patience to let those leaves grow hefty and great. A weed may merely be a plant out of place, but I know where the burdock can find love.

Searching for something to do in July? Come and visit me at the Art on Cullers Run 2014 event.