Underground Conversations
After listening to a Radiolab podcast Cyndie turned on while we were eating breakfast (From Tree to Shining Tree) about the complex web of fungi and tree roots underground, I decided to head out for a bike ride yesterday. I chose a route that retraced the last leg of the great 60-mile ride from Minneapolis to Beldenville that my friend, Paul Keiski and I planned in recognition of our 60th birthdays.
That last section always haunts me for the wrong turn I made that moved our 60-mile ride closer to a 70-mile one. I have a history of confusing my orientation and choosing turns that are 180° in the wrong direction. The right turn I made on that fateful day almost four years ago makes absolutely no sense. It was really hot and I was very fatigued but that turn should have been entirely obvious.
Every time I have ridden those roads since that day, I take great pleasure in making the correct turn without a moment of hesitation. Yesterday, I rode 32 miles of country roads past farms with freshly mowed grass, an occasional horse, and a lot of lounging cows. I spotted multiple patches of flowering trillium and a lot of trees with newly sprouted leaves.
There is so much happening in the plant world right now, I began to wonder about how many underground conversations must be occurring throughout the incredible network of roots and fungi in the dirt. How much energy must be traveling up all the countless number of tree branches during this phase when buds open and leaves emerge?
Our forests are starting to look like forests again.
Seeing all the leaves pop out tells me the network of underground communication must be functioning well in our woods. I’m particularly thrilled that the maple tree we transplanted to the center of the labyrinth (after our first three attempts failed) appears to have made the necessary underground connections to thrive.
I can’t imagine what those conversations must have been like. We plopped that tree into the ground in a location that isolated it from any other existing trees. At least, that’s the way it looked from above ground. Down in the dirt, I’m guessing there were more tentacles of growing roots and fungi than one might expect. Thank goodness for that if that’s what it took for this one to survive the trauma of being moved.
Thinking about this makes me want to take as much care to nurture our forest floor as I direct toward the trees above.
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Daily Improving
Our new dog, Asher, is making great strides in learning the routines and commands we are trying to teach him. Keeping him off our bed is not 100% yet, but he is overcoming the urge to jump up more than he is giving in to it. One thing that helps clarify this rule is that neither Cyndie nor I hesitate to correct him. He definitely understands we don’t want him up on the bed, but he just can’t help himself from trying when his desire reaches irrepressible levels.
Yesterday, we successfully navigated two walks without ever tethering him with a leash. He pushed the limits of our comfort a couple of times by trotting off the path despite our commands to keep him close, but the excursions were short-lived and he did run back to us when we amped up our excitement about having him return.
That was very rewarding, especially when comparing the anxiety over the possibility of him dissing us entirely and disappearing. On the third walk of the day, he lost the off-leash privilege by ignoring our calls to return for far too long and heading a worrisome distance off our property into the neighboring woods. The leash is more for our peace of mind than punishment to him.
I don’t know if he perceives it that way or not.
We also had good success playing with him in the backyard while unleashed. He loves retrieving felt squeaky balls.
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Big puppy energy in the house gets a little unnerving but outside on the back hill, he tires relatively quickly and his zoomies soon become walking after balls that we toss for him. That’s the point we are confident in the likelihood of him napping for a while after we get inside.
With Asher learning more every day, we are feeling very optimistic about how well he will eventually fit in with us to become the loyal and well-behaved dog we want him to be, for both our sakes.
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Day Early
Happy Mother’s Day!
We celebrated with a brunch yesterday morning for which Elysa contributed some special focaccia bread she baked after starting her day at the farmer’s market.
Cyndie prepared waffles and as we sat down to feast, she decided she wanted to take a group photo to capture the occasion. Her unpracticed attempt to figure out how to frame the photo to include all of us and her face became a comical fiasco that had us all laughing so hard, especially Cyndie, that our expressions turned out ridiculous. Elysa stepped up to save the day and helped her capture the moment.
We shared a precious day of hanging out and honoring the priceless bonds nurtured by a couple generations of really great moms.
Moms sure do ROCK! Virtual hug to you all today!
Here’s a lone trillium blossom from our woods in celebration…
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Having Enough
The spring growth of grass has already become more than the horses can keep up with in their never-ending urge to graze. Those days when we need to confine them to the paddocks are hard to watch as they crane their necks reaching under the wood fence for any morsels of new growth. They could never get enough. Since the gates to the fields have been open for a couple of weeks, they now have more than enough.
The nutrition feed we serve, which they compete with each other to gobble up all winter, suddenly holds less value. The first time I arrived to pick up the pans and found them still holding food was a big surprise.
The other day, the two chestnuts were so exhausted after eating only half of the serving of feed in their pans, they walked down the slope and laid down for a rest.
That’s the first time I’ve ever seen them leave food for a nap.
It was just a short rest and then they were up to wander out into the field for green grass again.
I figured out a way to work around the problem of the ground being too wet to mow yesterday by cranking up the power trimmer and cleaning up around the edges. That always makes the place look like someone actually lives here instead of the barn and hay shed looking like abandoned buildings.
Cyndie’s mom came for an overnight visit for Mother’s Day weekend and we dined out last night at our local supper club restaurant, Shady Grove, before settling in at home to watch the new Michael J. Fox documentary, “Still.” He is one tough guy who is still funny despite the difficulties he has lived through.
This morning, our kids are coming over to continue the Mother’s Day festivities with a waffle brunch.
What a rich blessing of a loving family and more than enough food. I am holding all the moms I know in my thoughts this weekend, sending love to you and the families you raised.
Love. Here’s hoping everyone is having enough.
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Messy Mistake
There is a reason I turn off the electric fence when I mow. Yesterday, I demonstrated precisely what that reason is. When we walked around the back pasture in the morning, the ground was so saturated it was obvious I wouldn’t be able to mow along the fence line there. With more rain expected in the morning, I figured I wouldn’t be cutting grass anywhere, despite it growing so fast lately it needs to be mowed every couple of days.
That rain never fell. By lunchtime, it was starting to get sunny out so I figured I better do some mowing. It was mesmerizing. The new battery-powered zero-turn was making great progress with plenty of juice to spare. I headed out around the back pasture without thinking. That was a mistake.
By the time I was reminded of the saturated ground, I couldn’t turn out of it. I wasn’t able to back up and got stuck against the wire fence. To extricate the mower I needed to get some boards and a jack from the shop. I lifted up the front so I could point the wheels away from the fence and set them down on top of the boards. That almost worked but the rear wheels were still stuck spinning in their own divots.
Another trip back to the shop for more boards to shove beneath the rear wheels got me away from the fence and free to spin my way along until I reached dryer ground. I came back later with a push mower and finished cutting that section by hand.
The biggest victory of the day was that I didn’t beat myself up over getting into the mess in the first place.
I am loving my new mower but I have a long way to go toward controlling it well enough to stay out of trouble and stop making skid marks when I turn around on slopes. If the ground would get a chance to dry out, that might help. So, maybe July?
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Just in case anyone was wondering, today is my sister, Mary’s birthday.
Happy Birthday, Marebare! 🙂
[It being her birthday has nothing to do with Messy or a Mistake. That was all on me.]
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Asher Digs
It is no surprise to learn that Asher digs after the scent of critters in the ground similar to the way our previous dog, Delilah did. Since the digging done by dogs is so destructive to our lawn areas, we spend a lot of energy discouraging digging in the grass. However, when on walks through the woods, I like to give a dog the chance to exercise their natural instinct. Yesterday, Asher plowed after something his nose told him was there.
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His efforts failed to produce any reward, but like Delilah many times before, that didn’t seem to matter. He just returned to the trail and we resumed our walk along the perimeter of our property.
Within a day or two of getting Asher home last week, Cyndie and I noticed he was adjusting to our regular routine more than we were changing our days to accommodate him. It’s another sign for me that he will be a good fit for the kind of pet we would like to have. After a bit of whining yesterday, he settled down for a good chunk of time in our outdoor kennel while we worked nearby. Cyndie was planting in her produce garden and I did my core strength and stretching exercises.
I recently read a recommendation that yoga routines can be enhanced by doing them outdoors and our philosophy of promoting the health benefits of forest bathing seemed to boost the idea doubly for me. This week I have moved my planking and stretching outside beneath the branches of two large trees. I’ve also made a change to the time of day I start, which doesn’t feel like it fits my routine yet but does offer a chance to linger in bed for a bit after waking. Slowly getting out of bed feels like a BIG luxury that suits me, even though working out first thing in the morning has always been my preference.
There are a few details I hadn’t considered when thinking it would be great to be outside. The mosquitos could become a problem and ants have already been a nuisance. The leaves aren’t completely opened yet so the sun was a little hard on my eyes yesterday. The ground not being perfectly flat is probably good in terms of adding difficulty for some balance routines but one particular bump interfered with keeping my back as flat as I wanted while stretching my hamstring muscles.
Speaking of new leaves opening up, I found this little specimen of baby oak leaves on the driveway beneath one of our biggest trees. They hardly got started and now it’s already over for them. That little sprig was about an inch across.
It’s sad to admit these brand-new leaves won’t even be missed. There won’t be a “bald spot” in the tree where they would have been. That tree will have more leaves than can be counted. At least we’ve given them worthy respect and have saved an image of them that will outlast all the rest of the leaves that survive them.
We are so very lucky to have all our trees. Looking up into the leaves when doing a cobra stretch is a great alternative to the ceiling of one of our rooms.
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Passing Thoughts
Since we are in the middle of training our new dog, I am immersed in the process of addressing issues in a timely manner. Both reward and admonishment must be delivered closely enough to the given behavior to imprint the lessons intended.
What if society were able to”train” unethical judges and politicians to behave by administering timely consequences for their unethical or criminal behaviors? Unfortunately, our system of justice moves excruciatingly slowly and seems to barely offer results commensurate with the transgressions.
Imprudent judges and politicians behave? Hah! Who am I trying to kid?
What if people simply behaved ethically because it is the right thing to do? Yeah, that’s just a passing thought.
Another passing thought came to me after I heard the umpteenth claim of being subjected to a witch hunt. How many times might one claim “witch hunt” before they start considering if they might actually be a witch? At this point, I’m leaning toward a certain person likely being a witch.
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Stormy Weather
The day started reasonably enough yesterday. The ground is still pretty saturated, but I decided to give it half a day before trying to mow some of the areas that are most in need. Despite my decision to mow our grassy areas in April and May (as in not doing No-Mow-May), we aren’t entirely shortchanging the pollinating insects of wild blossoms.
The dandelions are all over our pastures and the horses are absolutely thriving on the access we’ve finally given them to graze to their hearts’ desire.
After lunch, I hopped on the zero-turn mower and tried tackling a few tricky spots. I give my performance a C-minus, but a significant portion of that low grade comes from the ground still being almost un-mow-ably wet. It doesn’t help that I’ve yet to master driving without excessively spinning a rear wheel as I try to maneuver.
An embarrassing number of muddy skids are present in almost all of the areas I tried to mow. Luckily, the grass will recover, the ground will eventually get dryer, and I will get better at driving with practice. The getting dryer part will probably take longer than the other two.
Last night as we were eating dinner and watching the PBS Newshour, the weather alert tones interrupted the show with a tornado warning for our county and a community just east of us. That was an unexpected surprise. The sky didn’t look the least bit threatening out our windows at the time. I immediately brought up a view of the weather radar on my laptop. Sure enough, there was one little spot of intense-looking weather happening very close, off to our east.
As time passed, that one spot slid south and morphed in a way that started to wrap around us. At that point, the skies did turn more ominously dark and big raindrops started to fall. I kept refreshing the radar view and saw new cells popping up all around us.
The best part of the whole night of stormy weather was the fact that Asher never paid any attention to what was going on outside. Our previous dog, Delilah would have started barking at the invisible monster before Cyndie or I heard the first rumble of thunder and she would have kept it up despite every trick we tried to calm her. The fact that Asher is not similarly bothered by thunder and lightning is bringing us immeasurable appreciation and satisfaction.
Almost makes me not care that he can’t be trusted to stay off our bed and the kitchen counters yet.
He does bark when someone shows up at the door but not at thunderstorms.
Perfect. Good dog, Asher.
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Mastering Backspin
Watching Asher play with balls yesterday, it became apparent that he totally understands backspin and uses it to draw them back to him in the absence of having an opposable thumb that would allow him to grasp.
There are glimpses of him employing this trick in the video I posted three days ago. It shows me a level of intelligence that clouds my understanding of what he is smart about and what his puppy-ness has yet to learn. He seems to know so much and so little all at the same time.
Thankfully, he continues to demonstrate progress in comprehending and appropriately obeying the commands we are working on.
He acted a little like Jekyll & Hyde with me on a walk last evening. I couldn’t tell if he was being playful or trying to outsmart me by suddenly becoming intolerant of being leashed. I feel as though every time we show inconsistency, he quickly claims ground that conveys it is he who is training us, not the other way around.
It’s tough for us because we tend to lack a firm plan about what behaviors we intend to establish with absolute rigidity and which we have less concern over permanently enforcing. That rule about allowing him moments on the couch has already become more of a guideline than a hard and fast rule.
Asher’s powers with backspin apply to more than just his felt-covered squeaky ball toys. I don’t doubt for a minute his ability to take advantage of any inconsistencies we might be presenting in our expectations for his behavior.
My problem will always be that I desire military precision from a pet dog without going through the military training such behavior requires. My “sort-of-training” methods reliably produce “sort-of-trained” dogs.
I’m pretty sure that ‘difficulty in training a dog’ was on my 3-minute list of reasons not to get a dog I was reciting for Cyndie just over a week ago.
My, how time flies.
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Relatively Damp
Am I prone to understatement? Not always. Sometimes I go to the other extreme. My natural inclination is to be contrarian, so instead of titling this post, “Soaking !#@$ Wet,” I settled on a genteel descriptor for current conditions. The ground around here is actually wetter than an entirely saturated sponge this morning.
I’m sure the trees are soaking this up with glee. Buds are sprouting from every stem and branch and noticeably increasing the hues of green emerging by the day.
Yesterday’s World Labyrinth Day event brought ten visitors to Wintervale, six of whom are family, four friends, plus a small dog. After some stutter-starts at the meeting of dogs, Asher settled into a wonderful acceptance of all the activity, people, and the one pet unfamiliar to him in his new home. All signs continue to hint that we will find success soon in Asher developing into the pet we are hoping he will become for us.
As long as he refrains from putting his nose on the kitchen counter, then his paws, and reaching for an unfinished scone on a plate, or shredding the cover of the pad in his crate, or getting back up on the living room couch again, or failing to recognize we are speaking to him and directing commands his way for compliance.
He appears to be relatively willing to suppress his natural instincts and behave exactly as we desire at all times.
Hah!
Yeah, we got this.
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Relative Something 