Posts Tagged ‘nature’
Autumn Ambiance
I stepped outside to search for some fall scenery to photograph after I got home from work yesterday and was rewarded well beyond my expectations. It helps to never grow too accustomed to the beautiful surroundings we enjoy here.
It would be a shame to ever take this gorgeous place for granted.
The key factor yesterday was that it wasn’t raining. There was actually some blue sky visible. With a high pressure system moving in, we are hoping to for several dry days in a row. It is likely to deliver a dose of our best of autumn weather.
Many of our trails are developing a carpet of fallen leaves that provide a crunch when you walk. More importantly, they are filling the air with the unmistakable scent of the season. When I walk toward the pastures and pop out of the trees, the horses show signs of wondering what huge creature is making all that racket.
Just this huge creature, is all.
When I got down to our Rowcliffe Forest Garden Labyrinth, the sunlight was getting low. Cyndie had recently mowed and weeded the labyrinth, which gave it a well-tended glow anyway.
I walked to the far side and paused to stare at the beauty all around me. I was looking away from the entrance for the shortest of moments, and when I turned back around I was startled by the sudden silent presence of a lone young deer happily standing nearby.
It was as if it had magically materialized in the spot. I realized right away that it was totally unaware of me standing there. When it stepped through our fence and walked into the pasture to graze, I stealthily moved to a rock nearby and lifted my camera to capture the scene in video…
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For Barb
On a recent visit to Wintervale, our friend Barb Wilkus asked to see pictures of our allium perennials when they are in full bloom.
Allium
Latin for garlic, the Flowering Onions are available in diverse heights and sizes, are rabbit-, rodent- and deer-resistant, and are seldom affected by disease. Adored by bees, butterflies and pollinators, Allium extend the spring flowering season with bold, dramatic color and statuesque garden architecture. They are also valuable cut and dried flowers.
The blossoms aren’t 100% full yet, but this should give a pretty good idea of what they become. Today, your wish is granted, Barb, and now everyone else can enjoy them, too!
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Scarlet Elfcup
Cyndie caught a moment of nature’s colorful glory that has sprouted on our property. The first time I walked past this gem, I paused with the intent of picking up what I thought was something manufactured that had blown onto our land. It displayed such an artificial intensity of red, that I automatically assumed it must be trash.
A little research turned up the likely identity as sarcoscypha austriaca.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Nature’s Course
If you live on a river, or have ever paid attention to flood stages, you are probably aware of the time it can take for a river to crest. That phenomena is playing out in our paddocks now, as the first day of sunshine after the dreadful week of soaking rains produced wetness and mud that is the worst we have seen. There will be a time-lag before we get the drying for which we so dearly yearn.
The horses are beginning to show some impatience with not only the enduring mud, but probably more so, the wait to get on the fresh green grass they can see all around their corral. I began work on installing temporary fencing to allow them limited access to some grazing just outside their paddock, and was able to push the posts in most of the way by hand because the ground is so saturated. Even if I get the fence up, we can’t put them out there until it firms up enough to support their weight without them churning it into a mud bath like the sacrifice area of their paddocks.
After the rain finally stopped, and the temperature rose out of the 40s, I took the blankets off the horses. They really wanted to be brushed after that, even though a couple of them played hard to get and made us wait out a few dance moves of avoidance before settling down so we could go to work. Yesterday, I got a hint that we didn’t give them as much brushing as they wanted. Cayenne and Hunter took it upon themselves to cooperatively work on removing each other’s shedding coats.
When I first spotted them, I was amazed at the vigor with which each horse worked. It was so obviously a joint operation of sheer pleasure that I found myself mesmerized and wondering if I should maybe be embarrassed about peeping at their moment of shared passion. Hunter’s mouth was open, teeth bared, and he was grinding back and forth on Cayenne’s flank, bringing up vast tufts of hair that easily rivaled what our brushing produces. She was working with equal intensity on his back.
It was as vivid a presentation of “you scratch mine, I’ll scratch yours” as I have ever seen. It was such a classic scene that I figured I should take a picture, but I hesitated, figuring it would be over by the time I pulled out my phone. After staring at them with increasing fascination for a couple of minutes, it occurred to me that I could have long ago had my phone out for pictures. I snapped a few, but of course, none of them really do the scene adequate justice.
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Relative Something 