spreading dogbane

Taking our usual morning walk around the town. Mourning doves sitting on telephone wires. Goldfinches, a vision in bright yellow blasting around. Wildflowers of summer along the road.

Musk Mallow

Ox-eye Daisy

Saw one small patch of one I hadn't seen in awhile. It's called Spreading Dogbane.

I saw this when I was out. The flowers are small, but they are beautiful. When we were out today, it seemed to be everywhere.

This often happens when looking at the natural world. You can be blind to something for a long time and then you see it. Then the same phenomenon seems to be everywhere. Of course the alternative explanation is that they just started blossoming recently.

the creek

During the winter our wood stove is an integral part of our lives. Many of our household activities happen within warming distance of the wood stove. During the summer, however, it is an afterthought. Sometimes I pile papers and clothing on top of the stove. It's just sitting there.

We live about 50 yards from the Ira brook. I never really thought about it until recently, but in some ways it is the mirror image of our wood stove.

Most of the year it's just a very beautiful part of the scenery. Sometimes during a flood it can get a little bit scary. This time of the year, however, when it's dry and hot, it plays more of a utilitarian role within the community. Often on our morning walk we will see deer coming out of the woods to get something to drink out of the creek. Neighbors bring their dogs down to the creek to take a refreshing dip. Speaking of dips, the other day some of our neighbors came down to the creek, and cooled off in an area near our bridge.

Upstream from our house we have some new neighbors. They have done a great job improving their grounds. They have put in gardens, vegetable and flower, where there were none before. The man of the house likes to water his gardens with water out of the creek. Don't know if you can see it from the above photo, but he has diverted some of the water in the creek to move it nearer to his property. He has also stacked some rocks in this spot to make an attractive albeit temporary formation.

envoys of beauty

Recently we have had an unusual streak of clear and sunny weather. The last few days have been perfect; sunny and dry with highs in the 70's. This has also meant that we've experienced many clear and starry nights. Summer in many ways is a good time for star gazing. There is much to be seen in the constellations Scorpius and Sagittarius, in the Milky Way, and other areas of the night sky. The main difficulty is that with the long days, it doesn't get sufficiently dark for astronomy until about 11:00. Full disclosure, I haven't taken advantage of these opportunities in the way I have in past years. I did get out briefly the other night and took a quick look with my binoculars. Cygnus, the Swan shone brightly smack dab in the middle of the Milky Way.

photo by Dan Lessman

This constellation is also known as the Northern Cross. Can you see it? At the bottom of the cross is the double star Alberio. One of my favorites. In this photo it's in the bottom left.

photo by Tom Wildoner

Here's a closer view.

If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty and light the  universe with their admonishing smile.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

cool down

Cool down, temperatures in the 50's at night and in the 70's during the day. We even had some badly needed rain.

Moneywort

Common nightshade

Canada anenome

Strawberry rhubarb pie!

88 degrees

Temperature reached 88 degrees yesterday. Deer crossing the roads early in the morning, looking for water. Dog splashing in the Ira Creek. We have been leaving windows open lately, but now we close them during the day, and open them in the evening. Outdoor activities in the mornings and evenings. Fan in the bedroom at night.

summer solstice

It is the noon

Orioles are crying

The river flows on in silence.

Buson

Lupines

Today's post has been a staple on this blog for many years. A number of years ago I read A Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold. I think it was a leftover from John's college days. I would highly recommend it to any lover of nature and wild things. One of the readers of this blog is a long time biologist for the state of Vermont. She once confessed that she had seriously considered naming her son Aldo as  Mr. Leopold had greatly affected the arc of her own life. Yikes, that was a close one eh Cory?

In short, the Sand Counties are poor.

Yet in the 1930's, when the alphabetical uplifts galloped like forty horsemen across the Big Flats, exhorting the sand farmers to resettle elsewhere, these benighted folk did not want to go, even when baited with 3 percent at the federal land bank. I began to wonder why, and finally, to settle the question, I bought myself a sand farm.

Sometimes in June, when I see unearned dividends of dew hung on every lupine, I have doubts about the real poverty of the sands. On solvent farmlands lupines do not even grow, much less collect a daily rainbow of jewels. If they did, the weed-control officer, who seldom sees a dewy dawn, would doubtless insist that they be cut. Do economists know about lupines?

In the stillness

In the stillness,

Between the arrival of guests,

The peonies.

Buson

dirt roads

Road construction season is in full swing. Fields have been plowed. Manure has been spread. Plantings of beans and corn peeking out of the soil. With all the warm and dry weather, first cuttings appear.

Sounds of tractors on the road.

My daughter went to college in Southern California, at Pomona College. I always used to say that she went to a map and found the place in the country where she could be furthest away from her stalker, er, father to go to college. I'm still not sure that wasn't a factor. Anyway, she made a lot of friends, and I remember her saying that her friends were astonished at how backward her home life was here on the other side of the creek. They couldn't believe that an old fashioned TV antenna was what was used for reception, and that she only got two channels. They couldn't believe that she lived on a dirt road. There was one other thing, but I forget what it was. What was it, Pip?

There are a lot of dirt roads here. Narrow steep dirt roads with tall trees along the sides. They certainly can be a problem during mud season. But this time of year they are sun dappled beautiful.

We walk these roads a lot this time of year. Every once in awhile, especially in the fall,  it occurs to me that there are people in the world who spend thousands of dollars to come to experience what amounts to daily living for us. We are very lucky.

There is always something left to love.

Lorraine Hansberry

Page a day calendar on gratitude

John C

Allyn and I have been doing a lot of walking recently, walking anywhere from three to over four miles a day on a loop close to home. On this route we pass the Day farm which I mentioned recently in a blog. There are a lot of beautiful places nearby, but the Day farm has to rank at the top of the list.

It is, to my way of thinking, literally the crown jewel of the town of Ira. It sits high on a hill, overlooking the activities of the valley below from its heavenly perch. I don't know the history of the farm well except that it was run and managed by the Day family for generations. When we moved to town in the early 80's, the farm was owned by a wonderful old Vermonter, Lewella Day. She was the last of that lineage, and when she died, the farm was sold. I think it's fair to say that the Day farm went through its ups and downs for a number of years. It was recently purchased again, and is now known as the New Day Farm. This wonderful place once again seems to be on its ascendency.

https://www.newdayfarmvt.com/

Throughout this period of recent instability, there has been one constant at the Day farm, that being the caretaker, John C. He worked for Lewella for years, and continued to tend to matters on the farm after she died. John C came to mind recently as I passed by this pasture, one of the many fields he has cared for during his tenure there.

The fields at the Day farm are, and have always been, maintained in pristine condition. Keeping fields in perfect condition is not easy here in Vermont. I should know as I have battled blackberry bushes and multifloral rose in our own pastures for many years. With a little bit of inattention, they can really get out of control. The next photo is from a nearby field, not one of ours.

You get a lot of time to think when you are out walking 41/4 miles. As I walked by the field from the New Day Farm, I couldn't help thinking of its exceptional quality, it's beauty, and of the blood, sweat and tears that went in to keeping it that way for so many years, through the years of unstable ownership. This field and all of the pastures there are works of art. If the New Day Farm is a work of art, and I think it is, then John C must be an artist. Granted he had a lot to work with here, but the presentation came in large part from his efforts over the years. And he is not the only one. Here are some more photos of farms not far from here.

I've heard it said that what separates Vermont from New Hampshire is the number of pastures and open spaces that exist in Vermont to this day. Vermont is a jewel, but it continues to be a jewel because of the unsung efforts of old Vermonters like John C. Hats off to him and his like.

Fireflies

I grew up in California which has two seasons. It rains in January and February, and is sunny for the rest of the year. I remember going to visit my relatives in Ohio. Everything was so green! The highlight for me was the fireflies. They simply seemed like a miracle. I think because I didn't grow up with them, they still do. I remember when we were heading back to California, I would stick a few fireflies in a can and throw the can in my suitcase, hoping that I could introduce fireflies to the California environment, no luck.

Fireflies arrive here on the other side of the creek in June. I've been going to bed pretty early lately, but I went out the other night to have a look. There weren't as many as in years past, but they were still there.

Fireflies in Iowa-Youtube

The population of fireflies is decreasing throughout the country and the world. Supposedly this is due to loss of habitat, use of pesticides and light pollution. I have to feel that there are other causes because we don't experience any of those causes here. Many many species are disappearing, including monarch butterflies and fireflies. There's hardly a month that goes my without an article in the NY Times about how species are going away. Climate change certainly plays a huge role in this. Try to imagine a world without butterflies and fireflies. Magic is going out of the world; day by day, species by species. We have to do something.

leftover pterodactl

Zen Master Ummon said that every day is a good day, but I bet even he would say that these days in June are extra special. A lot of buzzing is going on from bees, hummingbirds, and dragonflies. Orange Hawkweed appearing in the lawn. Also known as Indian Paintbrush.

Saw a great blue heron soaring over the Ira creek the other day.

predator haven from blogspot

It looked like a leftover pterodactl from the age of dinosaurs.

For me, celebrating the wildflowers or the birds is like a kind of worship.

Michael Langley

Page-a-day calendar on gratitude

The mystery

Monarch butterflies have played a small part in my life for as long as I can remember. That changed, however, last summer when for the first time I was involved in capturing the monarch caterpillars; first with my son and his family in East Aurora, New York, and later when we came back to Vermont. While the caterpillar that I hoped would mature into a butterfly never made it out of the chrysalis stage here, the caterpillars that we found in East Aurora did become monarchs and headed off to Mexico after the metamorphosis. The whole experience affected me very deeply. I will never see butterflies in the same way again.

When I was mowing the lawn the other day, I saw some milkweed growing in the grass. That could only mean one thing to me, monarch butterflies! Here is some food for monarch butterflies. They must be on their way back to North America. I will be seeing them soon.

The tiger swallowtails have already arrived. I was able to get some photos of one the other day.

Apparently they feed on red clover, the Vermont state flower, which is ubiquitous this time of year. Funny how that happens. I was planning on writing about the butterflies and milkweed, among other things, today. Last fall I was peripherally involved in an article about monarch butterflies that appeared in the Vermont Zen Center newsletter. When I went to my computer this morning, this link had been sent to me by a member of the Center who had read that article. She thought I might be interested in seeing it.

Video of Monarchs: https://youtu.be/lWOySU_hAz0

I have found that in recent years that certain emotions take on a newfound power. It seems that the most powerful emotions that I experience are such that I can't even label them in the usual way; anger, fear, boredom. The usual emotions are related to me as a being. I am mad at her. I am envious of him. These deeper emotions are felt, but there is nothing to which they are attached. They feel like they are beyond the realm of self and other. Awe/reverence is about as close as I can come to a description. That is how I felt when I viewed this video. Thank you Meredith.

How this video came to be presented to me on exactly the day I needed to see it in order to put it on the blog is another of those mysteries that cannot be explained.

Living with bluebirds

For many years we have been so fortunate to have bluebirds nesting in a birdhouse in the back yard. There is nothing more beautiful.

Last year was the first year in a long time that we didn't have any. It looked like the house wrens scared them off. This year I moved the house to an area away from the house wren activity. When I put up a bird house, I feel a real sense of responsibility, that I have a stake in helping whatever babies come along to make it to the point where they can take care of themselves. I worry about them. I was happy to see that the new spot for the birdhouse seemed to be free of the house wrens. I thought we were home free until I notice a house sparrow sitting on the fence about 20 yards from the new house. Supposedly if you hang strips of mylar or tyvek in front of the entrance, that will discourage the sparrows so that's what I did.

A couple of weeks ago there was a lot of activity around the birdhouse which seemed to indicate that the baby bluebirds had arrived. The parents seemed busy going in and out of the house to feed the new arrivals. Then suddenly there wasn't any activity at all. That can mean that the youngsters had fledged but in the past I've always seen that happening. I opened the box and there was a nest but no birds inside. I wondered whether something like a snake, cat, or racoon had gotten them. I put up the barrier under the birdhouse to lessen the chances of that in the future. Part of me felt that I had let them down. That I should have put the barrier up earlier to prevent predators in the first place.

Yesterday I noticed the female bluebird foraging as usual on the back lawn. I noticed another bird close by and pulled out the binoculars to have a look. It was a young bluebird, recently born and fledged! Predators hadn't gotten to them after all! I was so happy and relieved. I noticed two others out there, feeding with their parents. For a short period of time anyway, all is right with the world.

Something new

Herb Robert appearing (the flower, not a person). This is one of the humble flowers of summer that appears in shaded areas in forests and along roadsides.

It doesn't have a season really. It is with us all summer. Viburnum blossoming. Looks like something you would find in a Japanese garden.

Speaking of humble, I found out from one of the blog readers that what I thought was phlox is actually called Dames Rocket. The Dame's Rocket has four petals and the Garden Phlox has five. We regret the error.

It's a beautiful day today and we're out burning the burn pile. Spending a long time in the pasture and noticing small grasshoppers. I usually don't start to notice them until much later in the season, some time in August. Grateful to notice something new.

Don't Get Around Much Anymore

We've been sticking pretty close to home since we got back from Brazil on March 11th. It's really not hard to do if you're retired and live in a place like Ira, Vermont. Every two weeks one of us goes to the supermarket at 6 in the morning to take advantage of senior hour. That means I go shopping in an actual store about once a month. We complement these orders with curbside pickups from the Rutland Co-op, and Kamuda's Market as needed. Don't get around much anymore.

I try to get up to the Zen Center and work in the gardens there once a week. I was there yesterday. As I headed north I noticed that the black locust trees were in bloom in some places. I was glad to see them. They are my favorite of all the trees that actually blossom this time of year.

I also drove by Wood's Market in Brandon. It's a wonderful place that I've visited for years. They have great local produce, plants, cheeses and pastry.

They have been closed for the most part in recent weeks, offering plants only via curbside pickup. I honestly haven't thought too much about it. As I was driving by, I realized with a start that it was June which is usually the start of the local strawberry season here in Vermont. And Wood's Market, which has the best strawberries in the state in my opinion was closed. In the grand scheme of things it's not the end of the world, but it's a loss of one of the most delicious moments of the year; the first bite into a fresh locally grown, Vermont strawberry.

Don't Get Around Much Anymore
Duke Ellington

The big #4

Happy Birthday Clarkie!

Let it shine

The trees have leafed out meaning the spring ephemeral wildflower season is over. Vermont wildflowers continue to emerge and about in fields and along roadsides.

golden alexander

chokecherry (I think)

celandine

One of my favorites that is emerging now is the phlox. So common, so ordinary. Even its name sounds ordinary. Nothing so elegant as queen anne's lace or golden alexander. But it is beautiful.

Modest, common, unassuming yet beautiful...I wish I could live like the phlox.

This little light of mine

I'm gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine

I'm gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine

I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine

Let it shine

Let it shine.

Harry Dixon Loes