Usual Big Disclaimer: These notes mention a couple of potentially edible plants. But as always, don’t put anything in your mouth on my say-so. Why would you go to a foreign-language major for your foraging or nutritional advice?

After the usual morning cold-water bathe and some lymphatic drainage massage and foot bandaging, and a big bowl of kale with tomato & onion, it was time to hit the road with rosary in hand for a holiday walk in a whole new different residential neighborhood.

One all-winter neighbor is our wealth of mosses and lichens, taking over any wooden surface they can find. Here below was a branching twig all grown over with little passengers.

On the upper right, that flat lichen of soft sea/sage green curling at the edges might be Cetrelia cetrarioides. On the very lower right, the branching sea-green tendrils could be Evernia prunastri. And on the left, those two puffy-soft tumbleweedy blobs might be Sphaerophorus tukermanii.

At least, that is a best initial guess based on pictures from the handy lichen fan site https://lichens.twinferntech.net/pnw/ , where photographer B. McCune has clearly been hard at work. And, these name guesses may be totally wrong, because even the lichenologists are busy trying to keep track of our “580 species of macrolichens and over 1400 species of microlichens.” Here below was an irresistible sample from Photographer McCune, who for size comparison thoughtfully put in a 1997 coin (“Bank of Russia. One Ruble”).

This could be stinging nettle.

At one of our public libraries, the bushes had a second harvest of salal berries.

This homeowner put up a choice of birdhouses, and even made sure that bird dwellers could pay social calls on one another using little walkways. The angle is awkward, and it included just one birdhouse. That was to avoid aiming directly at the human house in the background.

In the nearby woods, this small birdhouse fell in the underbrush. The open plan was a puzzle. Who lived in here? (Not bats; for a bat house the bats hang in upside down, and there’s no floor.)

At this point in the walk the morning fog lifted, and the sun came out for a beautiful clear day.

The leaves are fallen from this fig tree, but it seems to be sprouting for next spring and is still bursting with fruit. I’ve heard that the figs have a chance to ripen, if the tree is planted in a sheltered black plastic pot directly against a south-facing brick wall.

One harvest that hasn’t made an appearance is from our Strawberry Trees. Other years the fruits are everywhere, and go to waste falling all over the streets. Last Thanksgiving on our jogging trail I gathered quarts of fruit and made boiled strained nectar, but this year hadn’t seen the fruits at all. On this walk though there was finally a very small tree with just a few fruits. The tree was right in someone’s private yard, so I gathered nothing but this picture.

It’s heartening that even in affluent neighborhoods, residents resist the urge to put in flat green lawns. Instead they plant tall trees or rock gardens with succulents, and many have vegetables right in the front yard and even a chicken house. Sometimes they are in no hurry to harvest the vegetables, especially the cold-sturdy items like this curb strip of leeks.

And this triumphant cabbage, easily four feet wide.

The holly trees have their showy berries ready for Christmas.

These delicate blossoms invite pollinators with the vigorous smell of rotting meat.

These winter-blooming Camellias flourished high up on a trellis in full sun.

That brought the walk back to familiar ground, six miles in all. After all that exploring it was a real relief to sit down with some lentil soup and think about the many reasons to be grateful, before making holiday visits and calls.

Happy Thanksgiving wishes to everyone!