Story of the Day, 10/6

I went to my sit spot at sunset. The whole world was wet after windy
thunderstorms this afternoon. The air was now damp and cool, a
delicious feeling after a hot, humid day (this is October?!). I
walked out in shorts and a t-shirt even though the sun was already
below the horizon.

I stepped off the bike path and into the darkening woods. It took a
little time of wending my way through the understory, branches
grabbing at me in the near-dark, to find my spot but when I did I
was excited to see the brown and white turkey feather I found here
and hung up still hanging by daylily cordage from a maple sapling,
even after the big storm. It was like alittle beacon in the woods, saying,
"You found it!"

I sat down on the fallen log (last winter I learned that a log is
much warmer to sit on than the ground, and tonight with the wet I
was very glad of it). Mist was creeping into the woods from the east
so it was hard to tell what was darkness and what was mist. Instead
of trying to peer through it,I closed my eyes to listen. The
crickets made a pleasant chorus, not too loud and not too soft. The
katy-dids were conspicuously absent. During our quiet sit last week at
Ecovillage, I was surprised to hear katydids during the
day. I grew up with incredibly loud katydids outside my window on
warm summer nights but I never remember hearing them at midday. I
wonder if the nights are too cool for them now, and are they singing
during the day instead? I'll have to pay more attention to that.

The air smelled damp and then a sweet smell came to me. I have no
idea what it was but it was nice. Suddenly, an owl hooted from off
towards Sapsucker Woods--east of me. Hoo hoo-hoo, hoo hoo-hoo--great
horned I think. That's cool! I heard so many owls last year from my
cabin in the woods but this is the first one I recall from my new
suburban home.

My mind stayed fairly quiet for awhile, although it took some effort
and "listening for the quietest sound". The quietest sound seemed to
be distant traffic. I didn't hear a single leaf rustle and wondered
where all the mammals were. Were they still disturbed from my less-
than-silent arrival in the woods? Were they still hiding from the
rain? Finally my mind began to latch onto plans for tomorrow and all
the things I "have" to do and rather than fight it I decided it was
time to go home. I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of a small,
bright green light at the base of a tree ten yards away. It seemed
to go out, and then I looked again and it was back. Just a small
point of light, like a firefly. But I haven't seen any of those
around for a month or more. Was it foxfire, the glow-in-the-dark
fungus I remember from my childhood? Very strange, mysterious,
beautiful. I got up and walked slowly towards it to investigate but
it went out and never came back on. I left the woods then, for once
thankful for the Ithaca light pollution that is very noticeable on a
cloudy night, so the small green light remains a mystery for now.
Finding my way back to the bike path was actually very easy since
from my spot I can see the lights of the houses on the far side of
the path. I'm glad to find that going to my sit spot at night is
easy and fun. Now I have no excuse not to!

melissa,
thank you so much for sharing your stories and questions.
i've been also seeing a lot of these little tiny glowing spots, both at sunset and before sunrise. just like you found, they disappear before i can get to them quickly enough. let's be persistent!
i'im excited to figure out what they are.
any thoughts from anyone else?