Posts Tagged ‘invasive garlic mustard’
Noticing Green
In the absence of an enjoyable run of warm sunny days, spring greening has advanced undaunted. I get the impression I will need to begin the season of lawn mowing soon. In a defensive reaction to that reality, I have been trying to imagine how and where I can step back the borders of mowed grass to expand areas of natural ground cover.
Unlike that pathway in the photo, some of our mowed trails are becoming more moss-covered every year. I would really like to avoid driving over the moss with the mower in those areas, but I will need to devise an alternate plan for controlling the growth of anything taller than moss that continues to show up.
There are a lot of buds beginning to appear on the tree branches, triggering a sense of anticipation for the weeks when green growth flourishes at a pace that becomes nearly impossible for us to keep up with in the places where we need to manage it.
Lately, it feels like our greatest challenges have been in striving to eradicate invasive garlic mustard patches and defeating a tenacious web of tree-climbing vines infesting a large portion of our woods.
We experienced some heavy rain showers last night, and the ground is very swampy everywhere we walked in the woods. In the paddocks, it’s just plain muddy. We took the coverings off the horses this morning. The rain sheets had become mud-caked and weren’t doing much to keep the horses dry anymore. I wouldn’t call the weather warm yet, but it looks to be just enough beyond that freezing precipitation threat that the horses will be able to cope with their backs bare.
I don’t want to appear greedy, but it would be great if the universe would consider tossing us some extended sunshine and a run of daytime temperatures above the 50s (F). Maybe throw in a full purge of all criminals holding office in our government and incarceration for the villains pulling the strings behind the scenes for good measure.
I mean, as long as I’m putting in requests…
.
.
Fourteenth November
We are in our fourteenth November on these twenty acres and marveling over the thought that we have been tending these fields and forests for that long. Thinking back to when we first arrived, one particular vivid memory stays fresh in my mind. The very first time I ventured off-trail in our woods, I came upon the fresh, blood-red skeleton of an 8-point buck in a circle of hair and paw prints.
We had heard the excited yips of a pack of coyotes during the night a week before that, but didn’t realize how close to our house they were or what the ruckus actually meant. We’ve heard similar howling packs over the years since, sometimes triggered by an emergency vehicle siren, but haven’t come upon any similarly obvious evidence on our land like that carcass.
A stray bone is not uncommon, though.
Cyndie recently trained me in recognizing the invasive garlic mustard plant she has worked for years to disrupt, and we spent some time during an afternoon last week pulling sprouts in the areas off-trail that are less obvious. I found it a little overwhelming because it seems to be everywhere. We did what we could until my ability to cope was exhausted.
I can see why she just makes it a habit to pull whatever catches her eye when on our walks. She stuffs her pockets with plastic shopping bags to always have a way to bag and dispose of what she pulls up, an essential step in eradicating the highly destructive invasive.
There was a tiny oak sprout that caught my attention, barely tall enough to stand above the dead leaf blanket covering the ground in November. The leaves were so perfect. Apparently, too young to keep up with all the bigger trees that have the fall routine figured out.
It looks like today’s precipitation is sliding to our south, which is both good and bad. It’s nice that the horses will get a break from needing to deal with wetness in these cold temperatures. Their natural winter coats are coming in nicely, but their shaggy look quickly flattens out in the rain or wet snow.
The bad part of missing out on some rain or snow is that Paddock Lake is dry and will make for lousy skating this year. The residual growth was almost fluorescent green in the low spots.
My footprint was a result of retrieving the horses’ Jolly Ball that had rolled into the middle of the muddy remains of the “lake.” It’s always interesting to find the ball has been relocated from the spots where I place it, handle up, in hopes of enticing them to play.
We rarely have the privilege of catching them in the act. Occasionally, the ball disappears from the paddock. When it happened one time when the hay field grass was tall, we didn’t find it until the hay mower had sliced into it.
Fourteen Novembers of wonder and joy.
.
.
Relative Something 