Posts Tagged ‘images’
Expanding Storage
Earlier this year we began removing the cinder landscape blocks Cyndie purchased to help us mark the labyrinth path, replacing them with rocks we have collected. I reused the cinder blocks to create a nook for staging composted manure. 
Yesterday, at Cyndie’s prompting, we finally got back to removing the rest of the blocks. I had no idea there were so many remaining.
We decided to use the additional cinder blocks to expand our materials storage, creating another bay for staging wood chips.
It is a wonder to see how quickly we can convert an overgrown natural area into a manicured space with a new function. Now, I need to find time to get back to grinding up the many piles of brush I have created in the last few weeks.
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Precious Peace
This morning the temperature was September-chilly when we woke up. We built the first fire of the season in our living room fireplace. It is my favorite time of year. Cyndie collected some of our wild American plums that are falling off the branches (they’re about the size of a cherry), with a plan to make jam. The sunlight is painting the trees at a noticeably different angle. The constant transition of seasons is entering one of those phases of being more obvious.
I was working in the labyrinth garden yesterday afternoon under a cool cloud cover and once again the herd made their way over to graze in close proximity. Delilah was mostly well-behaved and as I raked up grass cuttings from the previous day, I found myself in the midst of a most precious and peaceful working environment.
(Speaking of peaceful, as I write this, Pequenita has arisen from her warm curled sleep at the opposite corner of our bed to come lay on my chest and purr. She must have sensed what I was writing about.)
The power of that herd to settle Delilah and swaddle me in a blissful calm is precious. I get the impression that they recognize what Cyndie and I endeavor to create with this labyrinth garden. It seems as though they are letting us know we have their full support.
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Sky View
It’s a new month, and I am at a loss for words. Here is a view of the dawning of a new day, with the breaking sun at my back. Happy September, 2014!
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Impermanence Is
On Saturday, Cyndie and I enjoyed some blissful moments tending to our labyrinth garden. The horses noticed our activity and wandered over to graze beside us while we toiled. Cyndie pulled weeds and I did some rock-work to add robustness to the entrance of the center circle.
It has become apparent that one of the two boulders in the center is leaning away from where we originally placed it. I’m hoping to pull it back upright with some manner of rigging and then see if there will be a way to prop it up with a small rock beneath.
The almost imperceptible movement of that huge rock is a gentle reminder to us that things we tend to assume are static —permanent, even— are nothing of the sort. I need to keep that in mind and endeavor to incorporate that reality into my designs for enhancements to our property.
I guess the trail I recently worked to reclaim is another classic example. It will not remain a trail without regular maintenance. Another obvious example that comes to mind is how much erosion is occurring in our paddocks after the summer rains. Before the horses were in those spaces, there was grass growing everywhere, which worked to hold the soil in place. That is no longer the case.
Beyond all the intentional infrastructure improvements we have done —clearing brush, adding fences, creating new drive paths— there are natural changes happening all the time. There will never be an absence of change. Everything and everyone is in constant transition, and at a continually varying rate of change.
Impermanence is.
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Finally, Progress
The hardest thing I have faced since becoming a full-time ranch manager has been getting contractors to bid jobs we need done. In the last few days I have successfully communicated with three of them. Two actually showed up in person. The other has already been here. Even though no work has actually begun, just getting them to see and discuss the situation, and estimate a time when they hope to actually do some work, is rewarding enough to fuel my dwindling supply of hope to get improvements in place before winter arrives in full force.
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It’s a bit like seeing signs of the sun preparing to make its appearance over the eastern horizon.
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With that bit of inspiration, I found myself drawn toward a chore I have been neglecting all summer long. One of our main trails through the woods had been left untended since the snow melted and it had become overgrown to the point of being difficult to discern.
I was pleased to see how much growth had occurred in volunteer trees, most of them butternuts. Too bad they were growing in a path where they wouldn’t be able to remain. I used the power trimmer to do the bulk of the clearing, then made a few passes with a pole saw and my ratcheted pruner. There is much left to be done —I only went as far as one tank of gas on the trimmer allowed— but the part I did complete looks wonderful and inviting.
After dinner, where I devoured fresh-picked ears of gourmet sweet corn that Cyndie picked up on her way home, we took Delilah for a walk down that trail. It was a treat to experience all the “oohs” and “aahs” from Cyndie as she marveled over how great it looked. Then we arrived at the stretch where I had cut down trees on Monday to widen the southern leg of the trail. They still lay where they fell, all over the trail, in stark contrast to the section I had just trimmed.
It’s a work in progress. But, alas, there is finally some progress!
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A Fogbow
Before the heavy humidity broke yesterday, we had an extremely foggy morning. I was walking with Delilah after feeding the horses, and as the sun broke the horizon and burned its way through the fog, I spotted the distinctive arc of a rainbow. But it wasn’t a rainbow. It was a fogbow.
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Eventually, the dew point dropped and a glorious breeze picked up, making it a fabulous afternoon to be out working. The morning was another story. It was too wet to mow, so I started the day with a chainsaw. I headed down to the south trail that needs to be widened. Also, there was still one tree laying across the trail along our western border. After tackling those areas, I moved along to a string of box elder trees that need to be removed for installation of the new fence around the grazing pasture. The work had my t-shirt and pants totally soaked with sweat by the time I stopped to head in for lunch.
When I came out again after eating, it was like a whole new day. It made the mowing chore downright pleasant. By the time I finished, my shirt was completely dry. After a long day, during which I had confined Delilah to her kennel, we headed to the house for dinner and I happily turned off the air conditioning so I could open up the windows to the fresh summer air.
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Killer Instinct
Here is a picture of the fully functioning wheelbarrow with both tires holding air. It is an essential component of our manure management process. Next to it is my primary assistant/troublemaker. Delilah politely listens to me yammer away, occasionally looking right at me as if she is actually listening to the nonstop nonsense that is beginning to flow out of my mouth in the absence of anyone else to talk with around here during the week.
I haven’t quite mastered the non-verbal communication with her, yet. Unfortunately, the longer I work silently, the more likely she is to wander away from me when I allow her off-leash. That leads to her getting into a tangle of burrs, or wandering off property, or more likely, both.
Speaking of no one to talk to, I’d love it if a contractor or two would show up in response to the multitude of solicitations I have put out in the last few weeks. I was lucky enough to actually speak on the phone with one excavator to whom I had made a follow-up call to yesterday. I was so excited when he said he would stop out to look at what I needed done that I neglected to ask him when that might be.
I kept one eye out for him all day yesterday, while doing some heavy trimming on the far side of our property from the driveway. I guess he didn’t mean he would stop out that very day.
I had put Delilah in her kennel while I was working the trimmer and wearing ear muffs. After I finished, I drove the Grizzly ATV up to let her out and she looked at me quizzically, wondering what this meant for her. I hollered at her to come with me as I rolled away down the hill, and the game was on. She loves a good chase, and of course has an insatiable need to be out front.
Her killing instinct is still as strong as ever. I told Cyndie that I don’t think we will be able to have chickens with Delilah running loose. The other morning, I let her out first thing to accompany me in feeding the horses. She raced on ahead and dashed around the pine trees. I noticed a bunch of birds take to the air. When I caught up to her, it was obvious she had a prize. Delilah was in possession of an unfortunate winged creature that failed to evade capture.
Of benefit to me is the fact that she won’t wander away when she has a fresh kill. I didn’t need to worry while I fed the horses and cleaned the paddocks that morning. When I had finished and was ready to head back to the house, I found her in the same spot where I had left her, still treasuring her new obsession.
I sure wish she would show that kind of prowess with the moles and pocket gophers around here.
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Cloud Views
We enjoyed another beautiful sky in the early evening yesterday, as storms were forming to our south and east. This time I had my rugged camera with me, and I tried some shots, even though they don’t come close to capturing the grandeur of what the naked eye was able to perceive.
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Relative Something 