In the Forest Delicious
As I sit to write this month’s Enquirer, the morning sun warms the quiet stillness of May—a hush before the mowers and hammers of the day begin. It’s in these soft early moments, among the daffodils and lilies, that I begin to notice the shifting season—and something stirring in myself as well.
On my early morning garden inspection, I notice the first telltale nubs of lily of the valley florets pushing out of their green frock coats. The front garden’s daffodils have already turned to yellow confetti, but the side garden still holds a few—ragged and weary from mid-spring’s heat, yet standing proud.
It’s the passing of spring’s baton, from the yellow team of early bloomers—forsythia, daffodil, tulip—to mid-spring’s lavender and whites: lilac, anemone, lily of the valley. The garden’s tamed wildness offers a glimpse of harmony and disharmony—vital expressions that remind me that the fortune of one is the fortune of all. I, too, am tamed and domesticated, kept within the bounds of social order and decency.
Yet there’s still a wild heart in me, pulled by the monthly moon, seeking a tonic for a yearning I can’t yet name. I want to visit the wilderness—not on the tamed terms of my garden, but on its wild, chaotic, mysterious ones.
So when a new friend invited me to go foraging with her, I jumped at the chance. I wanted to learn what is safe—more than safe: what is healing, nutritious, and wise. I wanted to dine from the dynamic nurture of nature, refined not by human hands, but by time and evolution.
Foraging feels like a way to fall more deeply in love with creation. To bring what is wild and outside of me into myself. To renew my connection with the living planet; to breathe in what is breathed out as gift. To make glad my heart.
Foraging is a way to harvest and preserve time itself, linking past, present, and future in a seamless stream of sensory memory. It feels like discovering the Garden of Eden just beyond my doorstep—a nourishing place filled with forgotten wisdom. In its quiet abundance, I find sanctuary and spaciousness, a circle of generosity large enough to hold my wild and restless heart.
Maybe you, too, feel the tug of something wilder. If so, I hope you’ll explore the forest delicious, look closely, and see what’s waiting to be gathered—not just food, but presence, peace, and a deeper sense of belonging.
xo
Felicia
Month Recipe: Radish Cucumber Salad
I’ve said it before, I’m no radish lover. But the ones from Hoffman Produce Farms are so beautiful, I keep bringing them home like still-life treasures I swear I’ll paint someday. (Still on the to-paint list…)
But this week? A revelation. I tried a recipe that turned me from radish skeptic to full-blown fan.
I’m heading back to Hoffman Farms this week for more. If you’ve written off radishes, this one might change your mind too.
2 Cucumbers
1 Bunch fresh radishes (about 8)
2 green onions
2 T Olive oil
1/2 T Apple Cider Vinegar
1 T Red Wine Vinegar
Kosher salt and pepper to taste
In a small bowl mix olive oil, vinegars, salt and pepper. Thinly slice radishes and cucumbers. Dice green onions. Mix everything in a serving bowl. You can serve right away, but it’s tastier if you let it marinate a few hours.
A side note:Â Hoffman Farms'Â new greenhouse with perennials and annuals is open on Thursdays this week and next, May 8 and 15th, from 3-6. Plant sales only.
Enquirer: Notes of Interest
This month, I collected these little gems about art, literature, and nature, many of which came from your ideas and suggestions. Please let me know if you find or notice something that amazes or delights you. This month, I'm exploring rewilding of self.
Wild Spirits Cross-Pollinating
Creative Nexus, brain-child of Stephanie Swilley, is a space for painters, poets, dancers, makers, and dreamers to cross-pollinate ideas and spark new collaborations across mediums. If you're a creative soul craving connection and experimentation, this is for you.
Rewild Your Roots
It’s easier to rewild yourself when you’re in relationship with plants.
Here in the Cedar Valley, Prairie Parkway Garden offers a hands-on, heart-led way to reconnect with soil, cycles, and your own innate curiosity. Whether you're new to gardening or simply plant-curious, this space invites you to get your hands dirty, learn by doing, and grow something inside and out. Prairie Parkway has a fabulous newsletter edited by my partner at EarthWhispers Abbey, Sue Schuerman.
Root in Creativity at the Hearst
Looking to reawaken your creative spirit? The Hearst Center for the Arts is now sending out a monthly newsletter, brimming with opportunities to stretch your imagination and reconnect with wonder.
Each issue is filled with upcoming events, hands-on classes, thought-provoking lectures, and films that invite you to see the world differently. Sign up and you’ll be entered into a monthly drawing (through June) for a Hearst swag bag, a little extra joy for the journey.
To join, just email the Hearst with your name and email address.
If you regularly read the Enquirer and want to support me in creating and posting each week, click the subscribe link below.
Beautiful as always! Foraging, eating directly from the earth - such a timeless way to reconnect to our place in the wild. (And thank you for the Creative Nexus mention!)
Thank you! I'm in love with the brilliance of the Creative Nexus!