Gathering Nature's Autumnal Bounty

"There breathes for those who understand, a voice from every flower and tree. And in the work of Nature's hand, lies Nature's best philosophy."

The frost may be on the pumpkin and the hillsides resplendent with a glorious mix of colors, but early to mid-autumn is more than just a colorful season of the year. Ah yes, Mother Nature, that mystical Goddess, has more in store for us in and about the forested areas.

With the advent of the autumnal equinox, on or about September 21, Mother Nature transforms the woodlands from their varied shades of green to a spectacularly colorful panorama. Since time immemorial, Mother Nature has saved the best for last—the last, of course, being the final full season of the calendar year, and the best our annual phenomena that is our fall foliage season.

The majority of leaf-peepers are tourists and shutterbugs taking their annual fall foliage binge. There are those of us, however, who cruise the less traveled side and/or dirt roads in search of Nature's bounty, including Concord grapes, both the abundant purple variety and the rare white variety, and several species of nuts. By their respective common names—be they hickory nuts, black walnuts, butternuts, hazelnuts, and the now extremely rare native American chestnuts—most if not all of these species are familiar to many of us of the senior generation.

Born and raised in an outlying area of a small northwestern Connecticut town, I was introduced to the wonders and bounty available to us in adjacent meadowlands, fields, streams, bogs and forests at a very early age. In the company of older siblings, and usually after the first hard frost, I ventured into the forested areas. The locations of the hickory and chestnut groves became as familiar to me as were the hiding places whilst playing hide-and-seek. And, while stands of the stately black walnut trees were few and far between, they never failed to drop more than enough nuts to supplement our supply of hickory nuts and butternuts. Hazelnuts were rather scarce in our area and in short supply year after year, but we always managed to gather a fair supply of them for Mother's pleasure.

While the chestnut was our most favored nut, I must confess that the years have dimmed my ability to recall the exact year that I was able to gather up a few pounds at my favorite stand for the first time. However, I am not far off the mark by stating that it was early in the mid-1920s.

Sadly, our magnificent stands of native American chestnuts (Castanea dentata) have all but disappeared. In the early 1900s greedy, irresponsible nurserymen were importing a species of Asian chestnuts that were contaminated with the deadly blight fungus, Endothia parasitica. The blight spread like wildfire throughout our American chestnut forests, and by the mid-1940s the killer blight had laid waste a precious native commodity. At this point in time, there are research efforts being conducted in an attempt to develop a chestnut strain that is immune to the deadly blight, but that is another story to tell.

For centuries on end, chestnut groves supplied our Native Indian tribes and colonial settlers with the tasty nuts equal to that of the hickory nuts (Carya ovata), shagbark hickory (Algonquis pocohicora), the black walnuts (Juglans nigra), the butternuts (Juglans cinerea), and the hazelnuts (Corylus avellana). The hazard of harvesting chestnuts was the sharp spiny outer bur. However, after a killing frost these burs open, as do the hickories, thus releasing the nuts. A bit of searching about amongst the newly fallen leaves under each tree reveals the loose nuts, and we were always able to harvest a goodly amount.

How sad that the thrills of yesteryear's foraging for Nature's bounty have all but slipped away. Time, inexorably, marches on. Well aware am I, that within our region, and at this point in time, our only hope of harvesting Nature's autumnal bounty may very well be limited to a sparse gathering of wild hickory nuts fallen from a shagbark somewhere along a remote secondary dirt road.

To those readers who have yet to experience the sights, sounds, and the distinctive scent of a forest whose floor is being covered with newly falling leaves (blending into those of earlier years), I recommend that you lace up your boots, take your walking stick in hand and get thee into a nearby forested area—hopefully one with a stand of shagbark hickory trees. As you shuffle along—perhaps along the Blue Trail in a section of the Mattatuck State Forest—you may hear and see the chattering squirrel and the raucous scolding blue jays as they sound the alarm to their brethren wildlife that an intruder has entered their domain. You may also be victimized by the thunderous takeoff of a ruffed grouse that startled you half out of your boots.

Pause momentarily to observe and listen to your surroundings. This is what it's all about! Communing with nature! You are a part of the living, breathing world of Mother Nature's realm. Breathe softly, breathe deeply. Look about! See and listen to the raining of the leaves.