Posts Tagged ‘images’
Pattern Change
We woke up with a hint of frost on our deck this morning. It is a clear validation of what we have been sensing the last few days. There is a change of season in process, and with it, our patterns of routine. I had to hunt down a long-sleeved shirt the other day. Of course, at this time of year the extra shirt comes on and off a lot, depending on activity.
I came in from outdoors and headed to the sink to wash my hands. Ah, there was my old peeve, back again. The cuffs of my shirt get wet when I wash my hands. Sure, I pull the sleeves up, but they slide right back down. Now I am able to appreciate what I have taken for granted all summer long, that I can scrub up without a care when I wear short sleeves.
A couple of days ago I asked Cyndie if she was comfortable in the house. She said she was, and I pointed out that the indoor temperature was 62 degrees (F). In the winter, Cyndie is quick to report her discomfort if the house temp drops below 70.
It fascinates me how our bodies respond differently to the seasons. What feels refreshingly comfortable now will be irritatingly chilly in the days to come. In 5 months, a temperature just a few degrees above freezing will feel refreshingly comfortable outside. This morning that temp tightens muscles and causes a wince. It has a bit of a bite to it.
Soon it will be time for me to find my winter gloves. I have no idea where they are.
For some reason I have a difficult time parting with old gloves. The finger on these opened up way too soon, so I patched it and got a good few weeks more out of them. Then the palm opened up and I decided it was time to retire them.
Just throw them away, John.
I looked over the right glove and couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Maybe I can use the right glove around the fire pit. I already have one by the living room fireplace, but come to think of it, I never use it.
Maybe I can use the leather for some other purpose. I could cut off the fingers and…
Just throw them away, John.
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Big Surprise
During the afternoon on Wednesday, when the gales of “Sept-ober” were blowing, I heard a crash while I was out scooping manure in the arena. It sounded to me like something very large had tipped over in the barn. However, I couldn’t think of anything in the barn that would have made that sound. I began to question my perception and wondered if something could have fallen up in the shop garage.
As I walked back toward the barn I had the thought that I probably shouldn’t leave the doors wide open on such windy days. I like getting fresh air moving in there, but the place sure is a dust factory as a result. I couldn’t see anything amiss, so I wandered over to the garage for a look. Nothing out of place there, either. It didn’t make sense.
Something about the sound brought to mind metal shelves, or the metal roof and sides of the barn and garage. With no evidence available to match what I heard, I promptly forgot about it.
Yesterday was a completely different day, with a stillness that exuded peace and tranquility. I walked the horses, one-at-a-time, over to the north pasture for a couple of hours after my lunch. They were exceptionally well-behaved. While they alternately grazed and raced around, I busied myself in the vicinity by trimming the scrub growth that looks decades old along our north property border.
Can you see Hunter positioned alone, away from the other three?
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The wild plum trees are producing a bumper crop this year.
I don’t remember this much fruit last year. Heck, we didn’t even figure out they were actually plums until a few weeks ago. Now we are all excited for having trees producing fruit we can use.
Well, more trees, that is. We do also have a rather tall apple tree that looks like it grew wild in the woods between the back yard and the barn. It dropped a lot of fruit last year. This year’s crop looks to be a bit more subdued.
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The horses were cute when I got them back into the paddock. All four of them settled into a late-afternoon nap after all the excitement of the new grazing pasture. It was so calm and quiet that the few isolated bird calls came across as being extraordinarily loud.
I sat down on the arena grass, which in no time led to laying down, and just watched them looking so peaceful. Then I realized one reason it was so tranquil. I still had Delilah confined in her kennel.
I hiked up to let her out and started tossing balls for her to chase. She was thrilled to have the attention, and was being as playful as ever. I walked down the hill to get one of the balls she had dropped and that’s when I discovered a BIG surprise.
I know what the crash was that I heard on Wednesday afternoon, and it wasn’t anything metal.
We lost a huge limb off a big old maple tree.
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Joyous Horses
We are currently experiencing an outbreak of ‘October’ around here, as our temperature has dropped 20 degrees, the clouds are hanging low, and the chilly north wind is gusting mightily. When this kind of weather strikes in September, Cyndie and I always think back to the year we were married and how cold and wet it was during the week before our outdoor wedding. We figured our plans were doomed, but luckily our special day was classic September with warm temperatures and a crisp, clear blue sky. Just the type of day we envisioned when we chose the date.
It always gives me hope that we can still have some spectacular warm fall days even though conditions may have drastically shifted toward the coming winter.
Yesterday afternoon I spotted the horses cavorting around the arena at high speed, kicking up their hooves and romping around. It occurred to me that they might be feeling the chill and wanted to generate some internal warmth. I finished the fence on the north side of the driveway, and I’m pretty sure they were growing anxious to get over there, so maybe they were venting some of that energy, too. They have spent a lot of time in the last two days grazing and standing as close to the direction of that new gate as their usual confines allowed.
Even though it was after 6:00 p.m. when Cyndie arrived home, I had patiently waited for her before giving the horses their chance. It helped that Cyndie had decided to put a pot roast in the slow cooker in the morning, allowing us to eat a rushed dinner as soon as she walked in the door. Minutes later we were marching to the barn for halters.
I mentioned to Cyndie that Legacy and Cayenne were hanging out together most of the afternoon, so we selected them as the first pair to make the short trip over. All four of the horses were still pretty amped up, and the dance to get two horses out of the gate —the two who had been selected— and only those two, was a bit precarious. Hunter and Dezirea went a little nuts over being left behind.
The heavy gusting wind was feeding their nervousness, so introducing them to this new space involved a bit of jumpiness. They seemed a little conflicted over the desire to be cautious, the ample supply of lush grazing, and the urge to check out the full breadth of their new pasture. We left those two and returned for Hunter and Dezi.
When the four of them were safely reunited in the new space, we were presented with a beautiful parade of prancing joyous horses, Legacy leading the way. They alternated between grazing and running for a brief time before settling down to mostly grazing, while Cyndie and I decided to do some tree trimming.
As darkness was about to descend, I headed over to put some hay out for them in the paddock, hoping it might provide some small consolation when we ask them to leave the pasture. It wasn’t needed. As I walked back toward them, Legacy and Dezirea were standing near the gate, ready to return ‘home.’
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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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