Posts Tagged ‘hammock’
Tree Love
It always seems to come back to the trees for me. Even though our horses are key to the whole operation, they don’t provide near the atmosphere here (literally) as do the trees.
Despite my love of trees, I find it unsatisfyingly easy to take them for granted. Today’s post is an effort to make up for that.
I discovered a long time ago that trees and I share a similar limit to high altitudes. Every time I get above the tree line in mountainous regions, I begin to feel ill. I guess, if they don’t have enough oxygen to thrive, I don’t either.
Wintervale has some nice grazing available on open fields, but as you can see in this image, our forest of trees tower right up to the back of the barn. Our log house is nestled, out of sight, behind the first few of those green monsters.
When the french doors to the deck are open, we are effectively forest bathing from within our living room, breathing in the aromatic phytoncides.
I love the shade our trees offer, the sounds they make in the wind, the changes they display through the seasons, and the wood they provide when they die.
I have never been responsible for as many acres of trees as we have now, and though the task is often daunting, I am incredibly grateful to have the opportunity. Tending the forest isn’t as simple as mowing the fields, but I definitely prefer it.
The primary stepping off point for our adventure to seek out and eventually purchase this Wintervale paradise was our visit to Ian Rowcliffe in Portugal. It is wonderfully fitting that Ian and I first discovered each other in an online community discussion item on the subject of trees, about seven years earlier.
For some reason the other day, I cropped out the hammock in the image I posted on Sunday.
I think I like this one better. It tells more of the truth. Makes me feel like napping every time I look at it, though.
My life would be so much drearier without all the majestic maples, oak, poplar, pine, elm, ash, and butternut crowns forming a canopy over the back half of our precious plot. I absolutely love our trees.
*****
An addendum to yesterday’s post: In case you were curious, the intuition was fading, as it took me a couple tries to get to the bottom of the problem, but I eventually found the reason the pump wasn’t coming on was a tripped ground fault interrupt. Problem easily solved.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Leisure Happens
I may describe most of our activities as exclusively focused on one project or another around here, but our days are not entirely void of occasional leisurely pursuits.
From the driver’s seat of my car as I approached the house yesterday after work, I noticed instantly that Cyndie had put up one of our hammocks. I wondered if I had failed to pay attention to her plans to host visitors. Why else would she be putting out our “accessories?”
Inside, I spotted a string of horse-shaped lights she had hung across the mantel over the fireplace, and figured something must definitely be up.
She came in from the barn and said that it was such a nice day with a wonderful summery wind blowing, she put up the hammock for us to lounge and enjoy. It was for us to use! Imagine that.
I asked about the string of horses on the mantel. She told me those had been up since her workshop two weeks ago.
Color me oblivious.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Natural Forces
The sky failed to completely clear yesterday, which kept the day from getting uncomfortably warm, but the humidity had increased enough to remind us that summer is not gone yet. It is easy to jump ahead in our minds to the inevitable change of season, as the signs and symptoms are plainly evident. Fall is not far off.
I nabbed some mid-day time that I was coveting in the hammock.
We could see some blue sky on and off through the thin cloud cover that never completely dissipated, but as the day advanced that blue turned more white as we achieved the classic look of the smoke-filtered view of the sun. I think western wild fires are again impacting our air quality.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
We took a boat tour of the chain of lakes that led us to 40 acres of forest that the Wilkus family owns. On the way, we spotted a young eagle low over the water and watched it claim a precarious perch in a nearby tree. After we got surprisingly close, it took to the air again, moving quicker than my limited pocket camera could do adequate justice in capturing. It made a dramatic impression in its display of size and power.
Walking the 40 acres was particularly moving for me, because there had been a dramatic storm in the time since I had last visited. Three years ago a force that was easily tornadic, if not literally qualified as such, created devastation that I struggled to imagine while standing amidst the now settled results.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The towering trees succumbed in a variety of ways. It left me wondering about the specific details that led to the difference of entire trees toppling over when the massive base uprooted, compared to the ones that simply snapped cleanly off 30 feet from the ground.
There are hazards hanging everywhere, in the broken tree tops that linger, defying gravity overhead due to a number of precarious circumstances. One decent sized tree appears to have broken off and blown directly against an adjacent tree where it now clings by mere branches, hanging in a very normal vertical orientation, though with no bottom half connecting it to the earth.
I tried to capture it in this photo, but it doesn’t quite stand out as well as I’d hoped. It was intimidating to spend much time in the region beneath it.
Between the high smoky haze painting the sky from distances far away, the beauty of the fabulous eagle starting to fly, the perceivable drama of a devastating storm, or the inescapable lure of a beckoning hammock, the powerful forces of nature were on full display for me yesterday.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 