Posts Tagged ‘fence’
Tractor Time
Yesterday I put in a double shift, first working the day-job and then immediately after getting home, hopping on the tractor to knock down weeds in our north pasture with the brush cutter. No rest for the weary.
Fortunately, time on the tractor can be meditative, especially if I am on a task that doesn’t require my full attention. Unfortunately, yesterday’s task was not one of those times. The fence around the north pasture is a temporary one of t-posts with webbed poly-tape fencing strung between them. It is not something I want to touch with the tractor or mower.
I made contact twice. Oops. Luckily, only minor, repairable damage. The second time, though, I needed to stop and climb down to pull the post out of the way so I could get moving again, without doing further damage.
In addition to needing to be careful of the fence, I also had to navigate a significant slope next to the driveway, as well as many pine trees throughout the field.
I honestly didn’t get much in the way of meditating done during yesterday’s tractor time. At least the field looks much better now without all the giant weed growth sprouting every which way.
I took Delilah for a walk in the field after I was done and in no time she located a small critter that had lost its hiding place. Speaking of hiding places, there were a couple of flattened spots that looked like a few deer had been napping near the middle of the field. With how tall the grass and weeds had grown, I’m sure the deer were well hidden while they were doing some meditations of their own.
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Animal Antics
I’ve been working a few days a week again at the old day-job, at a time when there is much that needs attention at home. The grass seems to double in height every 2 or 3 days in some places. I swear I could mow somewhere every single day and never run out of things to cut.
I finished clearing the lines of electric fence yesterday, but it took jumping into grubby clothes the instant I got home and leaving Delilah in her kennel a little longer than I like. I worked until I used up the gas in the tank and then headed up to rescue the dog and we went to the barn to feed the horses.
Normally, we pick up their feed pans as soon as they finish, but I just left them and walked Delilah out into the pasture. After unclipping her leash to let her explore freely, I stepped out of a gate and restarted the brush cutter. My progress was slowed a bit by trying to frequently locate Delilah and assure myself she was behaving well.
I was trying to accomplish two things simultaneously, having her get some time running freely to burn off her energy, while also working to finish the trimming. She did a great job of entertaining herself. I noticed that she had made her way back into the paddock area, where the horses were calmly idling.
Delilah grabbed one of her favorite horse toys, an inflated heavy rubber ball with a big handle, and began running around shaking it like she does when I am there attempting to pull it away. The next time I glanced up, I couldn’t immediately spot her. Just as I began to fear she may have crawled under a fence and run off, I realized she was close to one of the horses. From my distance, I couldn’t tell which of the chestnuts it was, but probably either Hunter or Cayenne.
I kept my eyes on them, with Delilah mostly obscured by the wood rails of the fence, concerned that either of them might act out unfavorably. Suddenly Delilah was trotting away, shaking the ball. It looked to me like she was trying to get the horse to play with her in the way that I do. It was pretty cute, but the horse chose not to engage.
As the sun slid behind some low hanging clouds and evening settled in, I successfully finished trimming the last of the electric fence. During one of the several refueling stops that were needed, I had run Delilah up to the house and put out dinner for her and Pequenita. I was able to finish with Delilah in the house, which sped things back up a bit.
As I was dragging myself back to the shop with my arms aching under the load of the trimmer and gas tank, I spotted Dezirea oddly walking through a small batch of young trees near the far fence line. My first thought was to question the strange route, but instantly I got the impression she was using them to scratch her itches.
Then a branch cracked and Cayenne leaped into a panic gallop to get away. Our horses really seem to startle over the sound of a stick breaking. Her reaction spooked Dezirea, who then bolted out from the trees. That got Legacy’s attention, and he galloped after them.
Just as quickly, they all stopped, satisfied they had successfully averted a potential predator, and went back to grazing. I felt like I had pulled a double shift, but having the animals as entertainment while I worked went a long way toward offsetting my day’s-worth of fatigue.
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Risky Behavior
I engaged in some risky behavior yesterday, and it was thoroughly pleasing. Regardless the likelihood of exposing myself to the dreaded oil of the poison ivy plant, I did some heavy trimming with our Stihl brush cutter. There is something incredibly satisfying about accomplishing the clean and trimmed look that this tool enables. All those edges that I can’t reach when mowing with our lawn tractor are so quickly dispatched.
Ian will know just what I’m talking about. It was when Cyndie and I were visiting him in Portugal that I discovered what can be accomplished with a brush cutter. There is immediate visual reward for the work and it creates a wonderfully clean landscape.
I needed to get after several areas, but I was primarily needing to clear our fence lines. When things grow tall enough to make contact with our electric fence, they start to put a load on it and that brings the voltage down. I didn’t have enough time to finish the whole chore, but at least I took care of the most visible portions first, so our place looks freshly maintained.
Still plenty left to do
Looks great when it’s done!
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There were only a few times when I thought I spotted what could possibly have been poison ivy, but I was shredding away and chose not to stop and try to confirm. Forging ahead, I just made a point to be very careful about what I touched while I worked. When I stopped and came in for lunch, I brushed off as best possible with my gloves, and then washed my arms and hands thoroughly with cold water.
I’ll know in a day or two if I was exposed.
After lunch, at the high point of sunshine for the day, I got up close and personal with one of our very visible known patches of poison ivy, and sprayed it with a new organic weed killer that I had ordered online. Just like the description I received from someone who recommended this brand, the leaves began to wilt within hours. So far, it appears to be working dramatically well.
I felt a bit embarrassed over how much pleasure I was getting out of seeing that the weed killer was working so well and the plants were suffering, but the risk of being embarrassed is something I am more than willing to accept.
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Evening Quiet
As Cyndie stepped out the door last night for Delilah’s last walk of the evening, I heard her telling me it was really nice outside. How could I resist? I hurried into my boots to join them for a stroll.
The warmth of the sunny afternoon was just beginning to slip away and darkness was making progress toward cloaking visibility. Looking back over our house to the west, the waxing crescent moon looked picture-post-card-perfect, complimented by the striking brightness of celestial bodies Venus and Jupiter, evoking a magical feeling in the moment.
It was mostly quiet, except for the odd sound that may have been a raccoon letting its presence be known. It didn’t seem to distract Delilah one bit from the rabbit scent she was ravenously exploring. The thick smoke from the neighbor’s wood burning furnace was creating a thin line in both directions, hanging low in a thermal inversion of the valley air a mile away.
I had in mind to get the gate to the arena space closed, to keep the horses out of the confined alleyways overnight. As I made my way into the paddock, Cyndie gently called Legacy to bring the herd back inside. All 4 horses obliged, with the closest two, Cayenne and Hunter, coming in to meet me before I even reached the gate I was about to close.
Legacy and Dezirea turned to come in the paddock, but Legs stopped right in the opening. Both Cyndie and I were sweet talking them with encouragement to keep them coming in our desired direction. I was trying to convey my intention to close the gate, and began moving it in that direction. Legacy took the hint and stepped far enough in to clear, and Dezirea took advantage of that opening to walk right up to me and leaned into the gate.
Dezirea in a recent daytime shot
She wanted me to scratch her itches. I wanted to grant her wish, but after I got the gate hitched. Her forwardness set me to giggling as she insistingly stood up against me in the way of my closing the gate.
I pretty much had to push her hindquarters out of the way, and there she stood, awaiting my return. With the chain clipped, I turned around and dragged my fingernails through her dusty, waxy, shedding coat.
After my week of healing from poison ivy, I know all too well of that orgasmic feeling of having itches scratched. The horses stiffen their necks and bob their heads while making funny expressions with their lips. She was loving it.
I tired quickly and glanced around at the other horses, wondering if I had started something that I wasn’t entirely prepared to fulfill. Luckily, the late hour and encroaching darkness seemed to put them all in a sleepy calm that allowed me to saunter off toward Cyndie and Delilah outside the paddock without needing to give each one a fair turn.
It was the kind of beautiful evening that had us overflowing with gratefulness for our animals and this beautiful place where we live.
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Greener Side
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It is quite possible that sometimes the reason it seems greener on the other side of the fence is because, it is.
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Reality Shoes
There is a challenge with being a positive person. It’s called, reality. Reality has two feet. Sometimes two left feet. Reality is the reason for the phrase, “waiting for the other shoe to drop.” The other shoe always does.
Now, if a positive person were somehow able to wield enough favorable influence over outcomes, the dropping of that other shoe of reality might always be a really great thing. In my experience, the world doesn’t work that way, so all an optimist can do is choose a way to find some good in whatever shows up when that other shoe lands.
The battle might be seen as a tug of war between the Pollyanna principle and depressive realism. As a former depressive living ‘in recovery’ —with optimism being my sobriety— I find myself needing to overcome an unconscious tendency to grab hold of gloomy reality when it steps into my life. I will grasp it a bit too tightly, which allows it to lead my astray, pulling me away from the fresh air of the glad game that I have been breathing.
Yesterday, while walking Delilah through the drainage ditch beside our fields, we found the horses grazing up on a high spot, exposed to the wind. It surprised me, because it wasn’t a particularly warm breeze, but there they were. We were moving slowly, as I allowed Delilah to ravenously explore to her heart’s desire. The horses showed interest in our arrival.
As we slowly made our way along the ditch, they followed at an unhurried pace, closing the distance to the fence. It’s not always clear whether one horse in particular is setting their course, or they all share the same interest when they move like this. I wanted to respond to their approach by doing the same, but the electric fence was on, so I didn’t.
Eventually, Delilah and I reached the end of the ditch by the road, where there is a gate. I leaned on the gate and paused. Hunter had traveled the farthest along with us, but it was Cayenne who then approached me at the fence. We shared a magical few minutes of intimacy there, sharing breath and mystical energy.
I don’t know why.
When Cyndie got home, late, after a hard day, at the end of her hard week, I got a dose of reality. I grabbed it tight. It woke me early in the darkness of hours that are best spent sleeping. I followed it as it led me where I know I don’t want to go. Then I thought of that experience with Cayenne.
It was real.
The other stuff, not so much.
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Uncanny Perception
While I was cleaning up a monumental amount of manure in the area nearest the overhang of the barn yesterday, the temperature was so warm that I needed to shed my hat and every layer down to my base shirt, and then considered tossing that, too. It was really nice out. Our barn is positioned perfectly to receive maximum solar energy, and is located in a spot that is usually sheltered from wind. Whenever it is even moderately nice outside, it is always even nicer on the sunny side of that barn.
The horses were grouped downhill from me, inside the back pasture. They looked like they were in a precise formation, lined up facing west and standing still as statues while bathing in the bright sunshine. I think it was nap time.
Next time I looked up from what I was doing, my suspicion was confirmed. It was nap time, and two of them were now laying down. I rolled the wheelbarrow filled with heavy, wet manure and snow through the barn to get out of the paddock and over to the compost area. In that amount of time, a third horse had laid down, leaving Dezirea the lone mare standing.
They looked awesome. I wanted to capture a picture of the scene, but from where I was standing, there were branches and a fence in the way, so I headed back up and through the barn. I kept an eye on them as I stepped out from the overhang and prepared to dig out my camera.
As happens all too often, that’s when the opportunity was lost. Hunter and Legacy picked up their heads and put their front hooves on the ground in the classic prelim to the magnificent effort of getting back on their feet again. Cayenne was right behind them. I immediately noticed that all four of them had reversed focus and were now facing east.
I looked that direction and spotted movement in the trees across the road. A herd of deer was coming our way. I was impressed at having watched the horse’s uncanny perception in action. Long before I was aware, the horses sensed the activity and rose to their feet to see what was coming.
Five deer, followed by three more, crossed the road and bounced through our neighbor’s field, leaping high in artful succession to clear a high-tensile wire fence that I don’t know how they can see. There were some young ones in the group, and it looked like a lesson in ‘follow-me; do what I do.’ From my vantage point, it looked like they had jumped too early, but all eight made their way across without incident. The little ones were pretty cute.
I looked back in the direction they had come from to see if there were any more, or for a possible reason why they were moving in the middle of broad daylight. There was an eagle circling above those woods, but nothing else. The horses had followed the action and were now facing west again, looking toward where the deer had gone.
About the time I was thinking about getting the blankets off the horses, clouds moved in and blocked the sun. Almost immediately I wanted my shirt back on, and shortly thereafter, my hat. What a difference direct sunlight makes. I ended up leaving the blankets on for one more day.
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Old Fence
While working to widen the trail we created through the south woods, I recently discovered the remains of an old barbed wire fence. There is no obvious logic to the location of this fence. It is in the middle of the woods. There are so many trees in the area that it is hard to imagine what the fence was originally supposed to be keeping in, or out.
Most of the rusty barbed wire had fallen down and was buried out of sight, beneath the dirt, leaves, moss, and fallen branches that carpet the forest floor. Occasionally, it would rise up to a dangerous level that could become a treacherous surprise to an unsuspecting explorer. It was clear that the fence was from a long time ago because I found a tree that had grown up into one strand, eventually swallowing it entirely, and continuing on undeterred.
As I struggled to navigate through thick growth while trying to keep track of the 5 lines of rusted and barbed strands, I came upon an old fence post that still had nails and hooks in it that held on to some of the wires. The post was barely a hint of its original size. It was so weathered it looked more like a walking stick than a fence post.
Working with rusted barbed wire is an onerous task. It often breaks unexpectedly. With much of the wire buried, if it breaks when I am trying to pull it up, I have to delicately hunt through the ground cover in search of the portion that remains.
When it breaks while we are trying to bundle the lengths that have been cut for removal, the number of pointy ends and loose pieces doubles. That’s on top of the ever-present barbs that constantly poke our gloves and catch on every obstacle possible.
Removing it from the middle of the forest is a major hassle, but rusty barbed wire is a hazard we don’t want to have lurking among the trees, so we find that the torturous effort of removing it is worth it.
Now we just have to find a way to conveniently dispose of the bundle. I bet I could find a taker on Craig’s List. I think it belongs in a sculpture by some creative artist.
Someone other than me. I don’t have the patience —or the right gloves— for it.
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New Fence
How many times will I say this? We have another new fence! Yesterday, they hung the wires on the posts creating the fence that surrounds our back grazing pasture. I discovered it is a case of “be careful what you wish for” because we have been wanting this fence for about a year, and now that I stand beside it, I feel a bit of a shock to have my ability to freely traverse that field impeded. What was I thinking!? (*start singing “Don’t Fence Me In*)
Honestly, it is going to be a special feature that will allow us to simply open a gate to give the horses somewhere to go when the paddocks become too muddy. In addition, it will grant them convenient access to what will be our primary grazing pasture. Also, it looks incredibly slick. I’m almost a bit embarrassed about how good it looks. I guess I’ve grown too accustomed to the look of the t-post temporary fences we have had to rely on prior to this.
I stood in the middle of the south run and took pictures in both directions, east and west, and have merged the results into one image. It is a bit of an optically disorienting look, making it seem as though there is a corner in the middle, but I like how it provides an equal view at the two opposite directions.
Today they will finish the installation by burying a wire beneath the gate openings to complete the electric circuit, and then they will hang the gates. We are recycling gates that were left here by the previous owners.
Our horses will be so happy!
I will be happy, too, but with the horses having so much access to pasture now, I will need to become more intentional in my efforts to get out and redistribute the manure drops they leave lying around. In the paddocks, we remove them, but in the pastures, I can get away with just breaking them apart with a rake or a good swift kick. I just need to get out there and do it.
This is one of the reasons that keeping some chickens remains on our radar. We have been told that they automatically spread out the piles by scratching for larva. You get a 2-for-1, because they help control the fly population while breaking up the manure droppings.
See how that works? I go from talking about a new fence, to getting chickens. I have come a long way from that life in the suburbs, don’t you know.
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Several Spectacles
This morning we were up early to view the lunar eclipse. When I ventured to the bathroom, I was surprised to find our front motion light was on. By the time I returned to the bedroom to see the moon, the back motion light was on. It seems we were being circled. As I stood at the window, watching the fading moon, I eventually spotted the culprit creating all the light pollution. It was a local barn cat, out on his early morning prowl. I hope he was catching mice, or better yet, moles.
Cyndie stretched to reach behind my dresser to flip the obstructed switch that turned off the back light so we could get back to the lunar spectacle.
Yesterday there was a another spectacle around our place. I finally had both contractors underway at the same time. Fencers were fencing and landscapers were landscaping. It was invigorating.
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I hovered around each, occasionally intruding on their activity to consult. As pleasing as it was to be enjoying this progress, I kept finding myself dwelling on the fact that both activities were initially sought to occur 5-months ago. Better late than never is the way I’m framing it now.
Regardless, we are extremely grateful to have these folks providing their services. Wintervale Ranch is another step closer to becoming the place we imagined when we found this beautiful property.
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Relative Something 