Posts Tagged ‘nature’
Slowly Expanding
On a walk back toward the house from the labyrinth, I spotted this remnant in the trail, but no visible nest in the immediate vicinity. I imagine there could be multiple explanations for how it ended up here. I’m hoping for one that includes the successful hatch of a baby bird.
I like how the mottled shadows of emerging leaves made it look like there was a spotlight on the shell.
I don’t know why, but this made me think to check on our patch of trillium we transported from the lake place up in Hayward, WI. Over a series of years, we were bringing back batches of these wonderful flowering forest plants after Memorial Day weekend.
They are so prevalent up there that the white flowers carpet the forest floor this time of year, creating a mesmerizing scene. It’s hard to imagine we would ever reach that level here at home, but even a small patch is rewarding. In this spot, I counted twice and came up with 19 plants, but I knew I wasn’t getting them all. The longer I looked, the more I noticed.
Final count: 24. I’m pretty sure that’s more than we planted. It will be most rewarding to find they are now spreading naturally in their new home.
It’s not always easy to keep track of where things are in the woods. I know we tried starting an establishment in at least two other areas, but they didn’t take. After a couple of seasons, I figured out we will be better off focusing our attention on one main spot. Still, I thought there was another grouping just a few feet away from this one.
I eventually spotted it.
There weren’t many flowers yet, and a tree branch had fallen into the area, but there’s trillium there. It looks like a bit of competition from trout lilies, which are the most widespread ground cover we have here, followed closely by jewelweed.
I look forward to a day when these two trillium groups merge into one as the transplants slowly expand their new Wintervale establishment and take command over all other contenders in this area. We may have brought them here, but I leave it up to nature to decide the eventual outcome.
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Feed Delivered
On the days we expect delivery of feed for the horses, there is usually a text alert providing an ETA for the truck. Yesterday, I kept one eye out the window and one eye on the phone messages. I even got up to check if Asher was barking because the delivery had arrived, but it was just another of his regular outbursts over some invisible trigger that we fail to see or hear.
I did get distracted for a short while by a movie on my laptop that caught my attention while I was having lunch. When Asher showed up on my hip with insistent signaling that he needed to go out, I prepared to be outside with him until the truck showed up or we needed to feed horses, maybe both at the same time.
In the woods, he decided to take on a snag that was four times his height because his senses told him there were critter snacks inside. He worked tenaciously for the longest time, despite it looking like a useless effort to me.
It doesn’t really bother me that he tries, because it entertains him with one of his great passions: destroying toys (or trees) to bits. It’s always a bonus to occupy his mind and burn some of his energy while he is out in the great outdoors.
To my surprise, after about twenty minutes of his manic pawing and gnawing, what I suspect were small flying squirrels began popping out of holes and racing to the highest point before making a flying leap for the next large trunk.
Asher would catch a glimpse and race to the other tree, but he almost always missed when they would scamper up that one to a dizzying height from which they made amazing leaps, floating down toward the next big tree a safe distance away.
When my feet started to get cold, and it was close enough to time to feed the horses, it took a concerted effort to convince Asher to give up and move on. Eventually, he got the message and joined me down the trail toward the barn.
As we rounded the corner to the front door, we found the delivery had happened without my noticing, having not received any messages in advance. I don’t know if it was while we were in the woods or still in the house. I fully expected to hear the truck if it happened while we were outside, so I’m guessing it was during my lunch break.
At least I didn’t need to make a decision about where to have them leave the pallet. He set it right in front of the doors that are frozen shut. That meant I ended up moving 2000 lbs of feed, one 50 lb bag at a time, through the small door and restacked them on two pallets inside.
Just another day of fun at Wintervale that negates the need for a gym membership!
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Plant Fireworks
I have probably posted on this subject multiple times in September over the years. I didn’t go back to check. This is the time of year when our Variegated Japanese Silver Grass bursts forth with seeds.
It reminds me of fireworks popping open in the sky.
I moved in for a closer look.
Those kinky waves resemble a few hairstyles I’ve seen.
Meanwhile, the willow tree in the paddock that should be dead has made it through the summer looking pretty damn good.
I don’t know how it is feeding those leaves because the horses have chewed the trunk and the exposed roots to shreds.
Nature is mysterious and fascinating.
For the record, the maple tree we transplanted to the center of the labyrinth eight years ago is still dead. I have tried not to dwell on it, but the frustration continues to simmer under my surface. In order to avoid dealing with it, I haven’t touched it all summer. Part of me wondered if the roots would try to sprout new growth at the base. Another part of me is waiting to see if a mushroom fungus will appear on the dead wood. I’ll take anything at this point that would make some sense.
Speaking of the labyrinth, we haven’t put a lot of energy into it this summer, and when I mowed it the last time, I found myself wondering if there might be another way to define the path. The rocks we chose have two primary shortcomings. The ground tends to swallow them, and weeds grow up around them that the mower can’t reach.
It’s a little intimidating to imagine reworking the entire length of pathway borders to a completely different structure. I originally envisioned more of a low rock wall than what we have now, or something resembling a wall to define the path. It would look really cool to get to that level, but we have barely collected enough rocks to fill the pattern with one rock after another.
We would need a lot more rocks than we currently have, and a low wall wouldn’t preclude weeds from still growing up among the rocks. For now, we carry on as is and wait for new inspiration to strike.
Maybe a new idea might burst forth like exploding fireworks in the night sky.
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Shouldn’t Compare
We had a wonderful lunch opportunity yesterday. It was a first-time visit to the home of friends who live just a few miles north of our place. It’s not fair to compare our worlds, but it is hard not to, and it has given us a fresh perspective about everything that we have accomplished on our 20 acres.
It feels like they have achieved a dizzying amount more on their 40 acres, particularly in the realm of landscape plants and an incredible garden of vegetables and flowers. After lunch, we got a tour of their gorgeous log home –with an impressive finished basement that they did themselves– and then walked some of their property.
They hired a crew to burn one of their fields to replace it with a variety of healthy prairie plants. Many of the grasses and beneficial pollinator plants are as tall as me or taller. It is beautiful.
I am humbled by how many impressive improvements they have achieved on their land, even though they have lived there half as long as we have been at Wintervale.
I was particularly inspired to see the number of new plantings they’ve put in, including quite a few apple trees that are producing fruit for the first time this year. The produce in their garden, and the developing squash and pumpkins out beyond their modest stand of field corn, look bigger and better than anything I’ve seen in a grocery store.
When it came time for us to go, they loaded us up with pickles, green beans, carrots, purple cauliflower, basil, cucumbers, and two varieties of apples, plus an arrangement of flowers.
As soon as we got home, I went out and mowed some grass. Suddenly, that feels like much less of an accomplishment to me than it did the day before.
If it ever seems like we get a lot done around here in terms of upkeep, just know that it’s a drop in a bucket compared to what plenty of others around us out here in the country are doing.
The best takeaway for me from the revelations we saw yesterday is that I am not alone in tending to a little piece of this planet by nurturing nature. We are both helping desirable trees and plants succeed and controlling the spread of troublesome invasives.
It is great to have found such a close neighbor with a similar mindset. It will be good for me to keep in mind that it’s not a competition.
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New Discoveries
Quite a while ago, we discovered that a person we knew from our school days in Eden Prairie was a volunteer for elections in our township. She and her husband own a log home nearby on the Rush River. We plotted getting together for lunch, but somehow failed to accomplish it for years.
Yesterday, we finally made it happen. Ann and David showed up at our house, and the minutes flew by as we shared snippets of our life stories over a fantastic meal and a tour of portions of our property. We found Dave to be a wealth of knowledge about our plants and trees.
I queried him on the demise of the maple in the labyrinth, but he was stumped (no pun intended) as to why it died so mysteriously.
Right away in our woods, Dave spotted golden oyster mushrooms on a downed tree and alerted us that they are good eats. We gathered a bunch to try cooking up.
That is definitely a discovery for us, as we’ve never considered eating mushrooms growing in our woods. When we first moved in, we spotted some that looked like the coveted morel mushrooms with the irregular honeycombed surface, but we weren’t confident enough to try them.
We learned later that it was very likely that they were morels, and we could have consumed them. Sadly, we’ve never seen them growing here after that time.
Dave went on to share his experience cooking down wild plums, making juice from wild grapes, creating a lotion for skin out of jewelweed, and he pointed out one other edible berry I didn’t know about on our property of which I’ve already forgotten the name.
The most important discovery is that we need to get together with them again soon, as we share many commonalities and a similar respect for the natural world in which we live. We are looking forward to seeing their property and strengthening the surprising number of connections we discovered during this initial all-too-brief visit.
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Nature’s Magnificence
It was a beautifully warm sunny afternoon that found Cyndie and me splashing in the lake to clean duck shit off the inflated floating platform in the swimming area. A thankless task because not long after we leave, the ducks return and make themselves at home again. A price we pay to co-exist with wildlife.
At the time, we had no idea stormy weather might be lurking nearby. As the dinner hour approached, pizza from Coop’s was chosen and I got elected to drive into town to pick up our order. Emerging from the trees onto the road to Hayward, a view of the open sky revealed a most spectacular display of roiling cumulonimbus clouds that were so engaging I struggled to pay appropriate attention to my driving.
While waiting at the bar to pick up our par-baked circle of deliciousness, the two tv screens overhead began to display ominous-looking warnings about a thunderstorm in Sawyer county. Based on what I had just seen in the sky, I wasn’t surprised in the least, but the folks around me who were oblivious to what it looked like outside were caught as unaware as I had been 10-minutes earlier.
It just didn’t feel like a storm-threatening kind of day.
With the pizza box safely stowed on the seat beside me, I checked the radar view on my phone before setting off and saw we were on the backside of this long line of storms that were percolating just to the southeast and moving away from us.
I called Cyndie and suggested she check out the view, knowing her deep appreciation for cloud formations. By the time she was able to see it and take pictures, the clouds had lost some of the initial splendor of the freshly blossoming thunderstorm that I was able to witness, but because we were granted a rear view of the event, it still looked impressive.
As the rotation of the earth moved the sunlight closer to our western horizon, the storm in the distance began to glow and bounce vivid color off the lake for a whole nother visual presentation.
Isn’t nature magnificent?!
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Staying Longer
There was a lot of energy this weekend among a large number of visiting guests who happened to be between the ages of newborn to 14. Suddenly, by late afternoon yesterday, everyone had left to return to their homes. It was Sunday night and Cyndie and I didn’t need to go anywhere. The immediate surroundings suddenly took on an entirely different ambiance with the change from squeals and giggles to nothing but ripples on the lake murmuring against the shoreline and the buzzy fluttering of hummingbirds outside the deck door.
As glorious as it is to experience the community of families that are Wildwood, it is a priceless privilege to know the serenity of this place when we are able to be here alone in the unrivaled north woods environment.
We only stayed one night longer than everyone else. This morning we will drive home to spend a few days at our other paradise.
Counting our blessings all the way.
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Unexpected Sprouts
After cutting up one of the trees recently felled by the pros we hired, I put two chunks in the shop garage to dry out. They looked like potential pieces for a future sculpting project.
Yesterday, we were surprised to find there was still life energy stored in those cut sections of the tree.
Despite a lack of sun or moisture, sprouts of new green growth have burst forth from the bark. Meanwhile, the leaves on the trees we tried transplanting a couple of weeks ago have all shriveled up and look like absolute goners.
I completely understand why the leaves on the transplanted saplings turned brown and wrinkled (even though we have continued to water them) but it seems unfair that the two cut-up sections of the trunk sitting on the concrete floor of the dark garage should sprout new growth that looks so full of life and green optimism.
Nature is fascinating.
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Spring Scenes
Among the range of memories lingering from our night out to see Neil deGrasse Tyson’s talk about a cosmic perspective, these have been prominent: The earth wants to kill us and the universe wants to kill us. As if supporting evidence for these statements were even necessary, Neil provided simple lists.
Earth:
- earthquakes
- volcanoes
- hurricanes
- tornadoes
- droughts
- wildfires
- floods
He introduced this segment with a reference to people who rhapsodize longingly about flowers and trees and all the romance and beauty in Mother Nature’s spectacular displays. Brings to my mind amazing sunrises and sunsets, waterfalls, ocean waves, golden fields, and gorgeous forests.
The contrast provided one of the many chuckles evoked throughout his presentation.
Universe:
- solar flares
- radiation bursts
- black holes
- supernovas
- asteroids
- meteors
Bringing this information forward in my consciousness had me looking at things with a fresh reference on our walks around the property yesterday. It’s impressive to survive long enough that we generally grow callous to most all of these hazardous natural threats. Some of the earth weather risks don’t get buried all that far away in our minds, but I have tended to view them as more neutral threats than as earth’s intended attempts to snuff me out.
The spring scenes we came upon in yesterday morning’s snowscape included the barn towels that were hanging out to dry from the day before.
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When the horses don’t finish eating before we head back to the house, we leave the feed pans out. It makes for some interesting finds upon our return.
Muddy hoof prints are the least offensive version of soiled pans we’ve had to clean out.
After the sun showed through the thinning cloud cover, the snow evaporated except for places that were shadowed. It made for some cool scenes in the woods.
This morning there is no snow left and we haven’t received new precipitation in the last 24 hours. A big sigh of relief for a day or two.
It looks to be another day when the earth won’t kill us. I can’t say for sure what the universe has in store.
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The Birds
While walking with Delilah yesterday afternoon, I think we gained an appreciation for what might have inspired Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds.”
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It’s not about the video image. You gotta have the sound on to get the gist of what we experienced.
When we got close and stopped to check out the chaos, we experienced a wonder of nature when the birds all suddenly fell silent. It’s just fascinating to witness the cooperation of that many birds that have just been shouting up a storm of noise to all understand when it becomes time to get quiet.
Lasted barely a second and the cacophony resumed at full force.
A brilliant spectacle.
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Relative Something 