Archive for May 2013
Lyrical Reality
.
sleep begs my eyelids to give up
tugging them down against their wishes
with miles to go
before I am home
pieces of asphalt lie scattered
in the grass that grows up around them
waiting patiently
for someplace to go
trees lean in every direction
victims of unforgiving forces unleashed
with vengeance
despite their innocence
the cats refuse to call a truce
behaving erratically and always on alert
to an impending threat
they themselves created
and the clock rolls on
ticking and clicking
advancing
as if being forced
to march on
no matter how ready
we don’t think
we really are
sunshine peeks up over the horizon
and everything takes notice and responds
absorbing and growing
greater than before
pounding like a heart always beating
inspiration thumps on my sleepy head
like a freight train
with someplace to be
things to do overflow my thoughts
like the snowmelt water that still remains
wreaking havoc
on any sense of order
brush piles patiently await their fate
as if being prominent carried specific intent
an always easy option
to fulfill a burning desire
and the clock rolls on
ticking and clicking
advancing
as if being forced
to march on
no matter how ready
we don’t think
we’ll ever be
.
.
Significant Milestone
I walked into the sunroom yesterday afternoon, where it is supposed to be sunny and warm in the springtime, and the scene brought out a chuckle. I have removed my winter jacket from the coat tree inside the front door, but something has kept me from finally putting away the boots, hat and mittens, that remain there.
Maybe I am waiting for that 2-weeks in a row without snow to fully play out.
.. ————–
Hidden in the background of all the projects currently underway at Wintervale, is the work Cyndie has been doing to complete an apprenticeship program with author, Linda Kohanov, to become a practitioner in Eponaquest’s educational model, Equine Facilitated Experiential Learning.
Cyndie has been attending workshops, and engaged in lessons and other projects, off and on for over 2 years. On Wednesday, she traveled to Amado, AZ, for the last session, after which she will have completed her apprenticeship. I will be flying down to join her on the second weekend of her 10-days there, to be a member of the first group of students to be trained by this session’s graduating apprentices.
It is a very significant milestone on this journey that we launched back when we decided to sell our suburban home and find property suitable for horses. Property that had potential for her to create a place where she hopes to train others. Quite simply, it is why we are here.
It feels like a sacred moment. I am looking forward to seeing her in action, in the role she has been envisioning for herself, pretty much since she read Linda’s first book, and then spent time with Ian Rowcliffe and their horses in Portugal.
With all the fence work on our property being delayed as much as has happened, some of the most significant progress could end up happening while Cyndie is in Arizona. It is setting up to be a close finish of her training and our readiness to finally bring horses onto our property.
It adds poignancy to an already special time for us. Let’s hope the weather allows things to work out that way.
Stored Energy
I stayed overnight in the cities for two days in a row, so yesterday was a precious return to Wintervale for me, after work. There is no snow anywhere in sight!
I went for an abbreviated walk to survey the conditions and found that it appears to be as dry as I’ve yet seen it this spring. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean it is dry, by any definition of the word. There is still standing water visible on the gravel drive in front of the barn, slowly trying to make its way down to lower ground.
Just as I was thinking about what that meant for our fencing project, the contractor called to check in. They are so far behind on every job they have booked, that it will take them long days and weekends to adequately serve all their customers. He did not want to hear that there was still water on the driveway there.
We are hoping to see a fair amount of activity over the days of the coming weekend. Maybe even some progress on the hay shed!
I came upon a broken tree limb stretched across one of our trails, and marveled over the new growth sprouting, regardless the fracture at the trunk of the tree. All that stored energy still does what it is programmed to do.
I wish I had some of that energy in me, for all the spring projects unfolding before us at a thrilling pace right now.
Definitely Re-acclimated
The weather has me on pins and needles, wondering when the next snowstorm is going to hit. I won’t feel safe until we make it two weeks in a row without snowfall. We are off to a good start: made it 6 days now, without new snow.
I had the opportunity to meet my friend Gary for dinner the other night, in Glen Lake, very much Cyndie’s and my old stomping grounds. Gary and I dined outdoors, on the patio. First off, it was just nice to finally be outside, without needing to have on a winter jacket. But, more noteworthy than that, for me, was the no-longer-as-familiar suburban sound scape. A motorcycle started up in the parking lot beside the seating area, the engine being revved with that loud “bap-bap-bap.” Shortly after that, a siren blared as an ambulance drove past.
I have grown accustomed to our new environment in the country, where I hear mostly songbirds, a dog in the distance, the neighbor’s donkey, and an occasional tractor droning in the distance.
In the grand scale of passing time, it hasn’t been that long since we relocated, but it has been long enough for me to become sufficiently re-acclimated.
The experience served to help me recognize how pleased I am with our new environs. As if there was any doubt.
Damage Assessment
Thank goodness that is over. The weekends are an amazing opportunity to work on absolutely everything here. Yes, I am feeling grateful to have the distraction of the day-job, lately.
Yesterday, we started with one agenda, and wandered through several distractions that were not really part of the day’s plan, finally finding ourselves mired in a muddy exercise of clearing an area of the woods near the barn, to prepare a spot for future manure management.
We went for a walk along the trails of our woods and discovered how merciless that last blast of snow was to our trees. It also explained the dramatic number of snaps I heard that morning. It was a bit odd, because I could hear so many branches breaking, but I rarely spotted the damage happening. Yesterday, everywhere we looked, large and small, we found branches, and sometimes main trunks, cracked, shredded, or completely broken.
In the grand scheme of overall damage, ours is actually rather small. Others suffered more dramatic tree loss than any single tree on our property. But in comparison to no damage at all, it feels like we have an overwhelming amount of loss.
It will be a big chore just clearing the trees that now block our trails. I don’t think I will venture into the rest of the woods. Nature will have to take its course there.
Quick Rescue
It is the month of May, after all, so it comes as no surprise that when the precipitation pauses, and the sun peeks out, the snow melts very quickly. The first order of business for me was to try to salvage or mend the damaged trees.
Using a pruning saw on the end of a telescoping pole, I gave my arms a workout, cutting broken branches back to the main trunk of otherwise intact trees.
This image shows how the damage varies, and can be easily overlooked, if you only scout for obviously broken limbs. The branch below is easy to spot, but the one above has an open split that remains connected on each end. It demonstrates the reason I was hearing so many cracking sounds, without seeing very many branches actually falling, when I was out for a walk after most of the snow had accumulated.
Hard as it is on tiring arms, to stand on the ground and hand-saw a branch high up in a tree, there comes the added complication of trying to get the severed branch down out of the tree, without breaking others, or causing any additional damage. It had me cursing for fear of doing more harm than good.
I succeeded in pruning multiple branches out of 4 of our prominent maples, before my arms gave out, and daylight faded.
I took one significant break from exerting myself on that project, during which, I rigged up a way to pull up a pine tree that had tipped over, using a come-along. It is the same tree that I wrote about in my post titled, Doubly Tipped, which we tried to support by tying to t-posts. That time, we just used muscle to push it back up to a partial tilt. The posts weren’t able to keep it upright, because the ground was too wet for them to stay put.
For now, we will let the tree rest against the pull of the cable, rigged to a nearby tree, with chains and straps. When the ground finally dries out, we’ll put the posts back in the ground and tie the tree off to them again.
Look at the dramatic difference of a few days in the life of this pine: (If you click on the last image, it will enlarge so that you can see the way we have it supported.)
Messed Up
Things are seriously twisted. It should not look like this in the first week of May:
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Yes, it is absolutely beautiful. But, this isn’t the time for it! There are some farmers who won’t be getting their crops in the field in time this year. It is just too wet around here. It was already wet. Now that has been compounded. It is even soggier, and getting later in the year.
I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. It was desperately dry last fall, and all this moisture will be good toward making up for that. It is a bit sad that it comes with a cost, though. The weight of all that snow really did a number on the tree branches. Standing out in the middle of the storm with all other sounds muffled by the snow, the snapping and popping of limbs giving way stood out like the report of rifles at a gun range.
On Wednesday evening, as I drove home from work, the weather reports on the radio indicated there was a chance for large accumulations of snow in a narrow band from the southwest to the northeast across their listening area. That narrow band ended up over our place. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I could see it was already a significant amount. By Thursday morning, it was over-the-top ridiculous.
I had gotten up a bit earlier than usual, trying to contemplate whether or not to attempt the drive to work. The electricity kept kicking out, and then coming back on again. We knew it was a signal that lines were being affected. Finally, around 5:30 a.m., it went dark and stayed dark. Losing electricity means we have no power to pump water from our well, no lights or electricity for our appliances, and no fan for our furnace.
We plotted to use our battery-powered devices sparingly. I just happened to have my phone on when a call came from our geothermal furnace company. He said that he had completed the quote for that backup generator we had inquired about, and wanted to send it to me. I expect he feels quite confident in our willingness to accept the value of his offer, as we read it by flashlight, huddled next to the fireplace.
Trees falling and branches breaking under the heavy load.
It is funny how, on one hand, we like to exclaim how perilous our situation was, yet at the same time, could adapt to it like it was a pretty posh camping expedition. Overnight, the fireplace helped hold the house temperature in a comfortable range. We collected water that was dripping off the roof, to pour into the toilet tank for flushing. We went to bed when it got dark. It wasn’t that hard to cope.
The difficulty that we struggled with, was not knowing how long we might be in this predicament. By leaving our refrigerator and freezers closed, we could last a moderate duration of an outage. It turned out to be about 28 hours until our power was restored in this incident. Once we get our generator installed, we won’t have that concern.
One other problem I suffered was, getting a sunburn, through the clouds, on my unprotected face. When I am out clearing snow like this in January, the sun is never high enough to be a problem. It just didn’t occur to me at the time, that it was a much higher month-of-May sun up there over the snow clouds.
My whole sense of normal is completely messed up.
Clothesline Fail
At least she was able to use it once. I guess that is why they make it removable. Unfortunately, it doesn’t hold up 14 inches of wet spring snow as well as it holds up wet sheets and clothes.
We are running on battery power, so I gotta make this short. What an adventure!
(edited w/ update: 10:12 a.m.) I made it into work at the day-job, where there is heat, running water, and electricity; all things we are still lacking at Wintervale. They tell us there is still no way to estimate how long we will be without power. Oh, joy. We are burning wood in the fireplace, in attempt to hold the temperature of the house up at a livable above-freezing level. One advantage to the cool temps: the food in the refrigerator and freezer may last a bit longer.
When I left the house this morning, I drove through falling snow.
Happy month of May, everyone!
.
Not Funny
…edited shortly after 7:00 a.m. to add additional image from this morning. ( jwh)
Curious, yes, but not funny. Before sunset last night –not that I was able to see that happen– I took a picture of the progress of our umpteenth springtime winter storm event of the year, just getting underway, on the 1st day of May. The joke’s on us, but who’s laughing now?
Here we go again… It’s beautiful, and terrorizing, all at the same time.
And this was how it looked in the pre-dawn light this morning…
Relative Something 