What the Outdoors Teaches Us About Caution and Opportunity

During this time of change and uncertainty, we are navigating sudden shifts and making new choices for how we live through this period and beyond. While this is not new, life has always been about balancing caution and seizing the opportunity - even as a child we must learn how to negotiate risks. However, now we may be feeling that strategies we had come to confidently rely on don’t serve us in the same way in this current climate. In some ways, our current situation requires that we learn or relearn new methods of relating to caution and opportunity.
 
My family is fortunate to own land in upstate New York at the foot of the Catskill mountains. It’s beautiful with mountains, tree varieties, and natural springs. The way we have chosen to work and utilize our land so far has been like a conversation. We don’t have an origin connection with this land and are certainly aware that understanding how to work with this land is a pretty steep learning curve for us. Our lessons come from observation, subtle experimentation and the best teacher in the world – time. Also, every now and then we do supplement our lessons with some research by asking our community or looking things up on the web. The other day we discovered two new organisms that we have not seen before in the five years that we’ve been here. I am amazed by how the land continues to bring surprises and newfound revelations, exemplifying the complex ecosystem of the natural world.

 
We stumbled upon Puff Mushrooms and Wild Ramps. Yet, at the time we found them we didn’t know what they were. The Puff Mushroom was certainly a curious thing. A perfectly spherical natural object just lying on the ground. I had never seen one before and was certainly intrigued. While both the mushroom and ramp are technically edible organisms, the Puff Mushroom was found at a point in its maturity when it was past consumption. It had become old and soft, emitting green dust of poisonous spores when squeezed. We didn’t find out the identifying details until later, but our instincts told us to avoid much contact with the strange dust and luckily we obeyed our gut. As it turns out, inhaling the dust has been known to cause severe respiratory damage.
 
In the same way, we also hadn’t identified the ramps right away. In fact, I was slightly annoyed at all of the new “weeds” we would have to pull out of the ground. Well, it seems ramps are quite the delicacy. They’re only in season a few weeks out of the year and command a pretty penny at the farmer's market and in restaurant dishes. Our land was covered with them! After we learned what they were and how to cook them, we delighted in a tasty new food that grew in abundance around us.
 
The natural world is full of mysteries, revealing both poison and sustenance, and the ability to discern the two makes all the difference. A study reported that scientists have cataloged less than 15 percent of species now alive on the planet—yet current extinction rates mean many unknown organisms will disappear before even being recorded. The lesson I’m choosing to take away from our experiences in the outdoors - that I believe can apply to our current moment - is to stay humble and curious. There is so much unknown right now about the future of our lives and our world. While that’s always been the case, many of us have had the confidence to plan and even expect. Perhaps with humble reverence, we can move forward with more care while maintaining a hopeful curiosity about how these moments of challenge and insecurity can help us to grow and maybe one day provide some deliciousness.
 
Here’s the simple and yummy way we prepared the ramps. Enjoy!
1.     Wash ramps thoroughly from bulb to leaf.
2.     Cut off just the roots.
3.     Heat a skillet of butter.
4.     Cook them whole starting with the bulbs in the center of the skillet, while draping the greens along the top edge.
5.     When the bulbs are lightly charred, tucks the greens into the pan.
6.     Remove when the ramps are cooked to your liking. Some may prefer the leaves barely wilted. I prefer the leaves fairly well-done.