the Portage · the carry between watersLA BAIE DES PUANTSthe Bay of Stinking WatersTHE LAKEsunrise waterTHE LEDGEPointe SableLe Mieux Chapelthe Bay of Whispering Wavesto the north country and the Hodagto the Manitowoc wall, a day's walk southup the bay to Escanaba, where the wagon restswestward to the mill cities · a five years' sojournsouth and west to the ruins of the MidwestThe Way Westwardthe leaving and the coming home, five years apart201320122011201020092013 · home to the Bayback across the water to teach the foundations2008 · out from the Baythe last showing struck, the road running westthe river valleythe walk kept hereHighpointthe printing housethe fallsthe ruin kept herethe Stone Archthe walk kept herethe chain of lakesthe walk kept hereLyndalethe walk kept hereBay SettlementWequiockRed BanksBendervilleDyckesvilleBrusselsNamurRosiereChampionLuxemburgCascoAlgomaKewauneeShoemaker PointDuvallBay ViewLincolnEurenThiry DaemsTonetFrog StationWalhainGreen Baythe Old Holdingthe still point · the cosmogonyNTongue of the Archivist · chamber I of sixIKnuckle Reliquary · chamber II of sixIILoam Gospel · chamber III of sixIIIMurk & Ember · chamber IV of sixIVMycelial Threadwork · chamber V of sixVThe Unknot · chamber VI of sixVIthe Wheel0510 milesTHE GROUNDSsurveyed in the naturalist's handWiddershins Project ArchiveThe Sounding-pod of Point au Sable · Pointe Sable, where the creek gives out into the bayaThe Ledge-Sleeper and the Rock's Own Time · the Ledge, where the creek runs cold off the rockbThe Crow Mage of the Ledge · past the Ledge and up, where a maple and a hemlock stand closecThe Skep-Goblin of the St. Anthony Shrine · the woods behind Le Mieux Chapel, Bay SettlementdThe Tidgetrotters of the Stinking Waters · the shallows of the Bay of Stinking WaterseFinnegan, the Tidgetrotter Cartographer · outbound over the Bay of Whispering WavesfThe Rimewrights of the Under-Ice · the frozen creek, at the under-icegThe Cap-folk of the Field-Margins · the hardwoods toward CascohLe Loup d'Eau · Algoma, where waters meetiwiddershinsthe holding goes deeperTHE OLD HOLDINGthe farmstead, as it was kept in mindplaceholder sheet · every shape a slot for the handNthe north woodsthe ponda few yearsthe NW hedgerowthe hedgerowthe corralthe gardenalways therea few yearsthe eastern fieldgarden, pasture, hay, and meadow by turnspasture, in its yearsVan Lanen Rdthe drivewaythe barnthe garagemachine shedpig pensmoke housethe granarychicken cooppump house (gone)the housethe climbing treehay mowmind the holes in the floorkitchen wingthe sidewalkred back stepsfalse doorpropane tankwood and junkthe little pondsBig Wheel hillthe ditchasparagustall grass, the open middlethorns · berries underneathlilacgrass up the middlewest to the creek, the bike path, and the poolfarther west, a tree fort in the big woodson through the woods, a tree fortsouth across the road, a tree fort in the woodsback up to the county sheetThe Cedar House · by the road, north of the ditch · a stand of close-grown cedars KITCHEN UPSTAIRS LIVING ROOM BEDROOMthe Cedar House KITCHEN UPSTAIRS LIVING ROOM BEDROOMOUR HOUSEthe Cedar Housevignette · placeholder KITCHEN UPSTAIRS LIVING ROOM BEDROOMOUR HOUSEthe Cedar Housefull drawing · placeholderThe Thresher · out in the eastern field · a wreck in the grass the Thresher A DERELICT SHIPthe Threshervignette · placeholder A DERELICT SHIPthe Thresherfull drawing · placeholderThe Fort · in the hedgerow's south tangle · under the thorns ?the Fort ?THE DOUBLE IS NOT YET RECORDEDthe Fortvignette · placeholder ?THE DOUBLE IS NOT YET RECORDEDthe Fortfull drawing · placeholder

Unearthed · mark h

The Cap-folk of the Field-Margins

the hardwoods toward Casco

The leaf lies where it was filed. What the ground held at this mark is recorded in the archive; the survey only fixes the where.

Cabinet · Loam Gospel

The Cap-folk of the Field-Margins

Field Notes, Terra Incognita, Plate II

June 1, 2023 · “The divine speaks through dirt.”

Widdershins Project Archive · File 3A-9

bestiaryfungifarmlandfield-marginscommunal
Ink and watercolor field plate: a red-capped mushroom whose scaly stem descends into insect-like walking roots, ringed by marginal studies of smaller cap and totem forms and scattered spore-marks.
Terra Incognita, Plate II · Watercolor, charcoal and India ink on Bristol · The enchanted farmlands

The farmland is the one I grew up on, or one enough like it that I stopped drawing and stood a while. Cut hayfield, the second growth just coming, the dew still down. I had come for the light on the fields and found the specimens instead, at the margin where the mower never reaches. I had walked past a thousand of them and called them toadstools. This close, at first light, they were not standing where I had left them. A red-capped one had drawn its roots up out of the ground into a fistful of pale legs, and moved. Not far. A hand’s breadth in the hour I watched. But a mushroom is not supposed to choose its ground, and this one had.

There is no wind in a fairy ring, and there was none here. What passed between them passed underground. I have read since that the fungus below a field is one connected body, mile on mile of thread, and that it carries word from root to root, that the trees warn each other of drought through it. If that is science, then this is only the science with its face turned up. The caps I drew are the parts that surface to be seen. The creature is the field.

I took the specimens I could and left the ring unbroken. A man who mows his lawn on a Saturday has killed more of these than he will ever meet, and thought he was tidying.

An earlier telling of this plate, recovered with it. Kept as found.

In the heart of the enchanted farmlands, where the golden hues of dawn embraced the dew-kissed earth, I stumbled upon a realm of surreal wonders. As I ventured through the emerald fields, the air itself seemed to hum with an otherworldly melody, and the verdant landscape began to morph into a dreamscape. To my astonishment, the once ordinary mushrooms, bathed in the iridescence of an ethereal glow, stirred with a life of their own. Tiny faces emerged from their fungal abodes, each cap adorned with expressions as diverse as the colors of a fantastical sunset.

These sentient mushrooms, guardians of the enchanted farmlands, whispered secrets in a language known only to the wind and the ancient spirits that dwelled in the soil. They danced in unison, their slender stems swaying to a melody woven by the harmonious interplay of nature’s magic. As I stood there, a mere mortal captivated by the surreal spectacle, the mushrooms beckoned me into their whimsical world, inviting me to partake in the secrets hidden beneath the enchanted soil and to witness the unseen wonders that thrived in the heart of the magical farmlands.

the leaves lie in order; turn them back to the rock · drag to pan · scroll to zoom · past 3× the ground gives up small things · the ⊕ marks go down · the marks, listed below ·

the farmstead · drag to pan · scroll to zoom: a stamp far off, a drawing up close · lay the haunting and the doubles appear · zoom all the way out to surface · the ground, listed below