My eyes (allergies) are telling me it's the season of goldenrod.
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
Monday, August 12, 2019
mowing the lawn
Another beautiful sunny day yesterday with a part of the afternoon devoted to mowing the back lawn. Falling leaves on the lawn except they weren't exactly falling leaves, they were bracts which Google says are "modified or specialized leaves...associated with a reproductive structure like a flower."
These bracts are from basswood trees nearby. How many years have I mowed over these bracts at this time of year and not known what they were?
Lustrous ebony-shaded crickets hopping out of the way of the mower. They are virtually the same color as the wild blackberries that I sampled in the area where the lawn meets the fence line and the pasture.
I had a few of those as I headed past. Even a chore like mowing the lawn can sometimes be a feast for the senses.
In the sun, the butterfly wings
Like a church window.
Jack Kerouac
Zen page-a-day calendar
These bracts are from basswood trees nearby. How many years have I mowed over these bracts at this time of year and not known what they were?
Lustrous ebony-shaded crickets hopping out of the way of the mower. They are virtually the same color as the wild blackberries that I sampled in the area where the lawn meets the fence line and the pasture.
Speaking of sampling, Allyn's cherry tomatoes are starting to ripen.
In the sun, the butterfly wings
Like a church window.
Jack Kerouac
Zen page-a-day calendar
Friday, August 9, 2019
life with cows
A few days ago there was a blog post regarding some star gazing. My friend Doug was interested in that so we planned an outing here. I mowed a section of the back field to make the viewing more comfortable. Some time later I was shocked to see the cows that are here for the summer heading out of their confined field and into open pastures. I thought I must have left the gate improperly secured. I called the farmer, and we both hoped the fencing was secure in the area to which they were heading because it hadn't yet beck checked this summer season.
No such luck. About a day later we got a call from a neighbor I had never met, inquiring if we had cows that were lost because he had some on his lawn. I called Andy, the farmer who owns the cows, and we all met up at the neighbors to hopefully find the cows (in the woods) and head them back to our place.
The area in which we were searching was hilly and covered with rocks and downed tree branches. It was getting dark and it was starting to rain, hard. I drove up north of the neighbor's house, and circled back. For once my instincts were correct, there they were. I slowly walked up to them and tried to nudge them back in the homeward direction. They were having none of it. They hightailed it in the opposite direction, up not down the mountain. They were surprisingly fast and agile!
We chased them all over the mountain that evening. The more we did so, the farther away they got from where they were supposed to be. Andy said that the angus was the ringleader and was the one that was leading them away from our pasture. It got too dark, and we were too wet to continue so we gave up for the night.
First light, and I called Andy to see when we would start again, and what was his plan. He said he planned to go to the edge of our property and call for the cows to come. He thought that Dave (his son) and I could circle back behind them, and we could use this carrot and stick approach. I said that I remembered in the past that he had used buckets of grain to get the cows to follow him. He said that these were all grass fed cows. They didn't even know what grain was. I asked what we were going to do if the black angus continued to lead the cows in the wrong direction. He said he had considered using a tranquilizer gun on that cow. Yikes.
We all met at our place and proceeded with our plan. Dave and I drove up to where we'd seen the cows last and started walking toward our pastures. We heard Andy call once and that was it. We kept walking towards home with no sign of the cows. We crossed into our land, still forest, and headed for the pasture. We finally saw them. They were there in one of our pastures! They were much more docile than they'd been the night before. The rebel ringleader, the black angus, was a tame and docile follower by this point. Dave took the lead and led them back to where they were supposed to be. It was almost as if the day before they were on vacation and didn't want it to end, but today they had seen enough of strange lands and just wanted to go home.
We were all tired but happy to have the cows back where they belonged. Even the cows seemed relieved and ready for a nap.
I couldn't help thinking about life with cows. There aren't too many places left where you can wake up in the morning and find strange cows on your lawn. There's actually something pretty cool about that, within reason. Used to be that there were hundreds of cows in the Ira valley. As far as I can tell these are the only ones that are left, and they are only summer residents. The small independent Vermont dairy farm seems to be on the way out. They just can't compete with the large farms out of the midwest. It's sad to see them go. We'll enjoy them while we can.
No such luck. About a day later we got a call from a neighbor I had never met, inquiring if we had cows that were lost because he had some on his lawn. I called Andy, the farmer who owns the cows, and we all met up at the neighbors to hopefully find the cows (in the woods) and head them back to our place.
The area in which we were searching was hilly and covered with rocks and downed tree branches. It was getting dark and it was starting to rain, hard. I drove up north of the neighbor's house, and circled back. For once my instincts were correct, there they were. I slowly walked up to them and tried to nudge them back in the homeward direction. They were having none of it. They hightailed it in the opposite direction, up not down the mountain. They were surprisingly fast and agile!
We chased them all over the mountain that evening. The more we did so, the farther away they got from where they were supposed to be. Andy said that the angus was the ringleader and was the one that was leading them away from our pasture. It got too dark, and we were too wet to continue so we gave up for the night.
First light, and I called Andy to see when we would start again, and what was his plan. He said he planned to go to the edge of our property and call for the cows to come. He thought that Dave (his son) and I could circle back behind them, and we could use this carrot and stick approach. I said that I remembered in the past that he had used buckets of grain to get the cows to follow him. He said that these were all grass fed cows. They didn't even know what grain was. I asked what we were going to do if the black angus continued to lead the cows in the wrong direction. He said he had considered using a tranquilizer gun on that cow. Yikes.
We all met at our place and proceeded with our plan. Dave and I drove up to where we'd seen the cows last and started walking toward our pastures. We heard Andy call once and that was it. We kept walking towards home with no sign of the cows. We crossed into our land, still forest, and headed for the pasture. We finally saw them. They were there in one of our pastures! They were much more docile than they'd been the night before. The rebel ringleader, the black angus, was a tame and docile follower by this point. Dave took the lead and led them back to where they were supposed to be. It was almost as if the day before they were on vacation and didn't want it to end, but today they had seen enough of strange lands and just wanted to go home.
We were all tired but happy to have the cows back where they belonged. Even the cows seemed relieved and ready for a nap.
I couldn't help thinking about life with cows. There aren't too many places left where you can wake up in the morning and find strange cows on your lawn. There's actually something pretty cool about that, within reason. Used to be that there were hundreds of cows in the Ira valley. As far as I can tell these are the only ones that are left, and they are only summer residents. The small independent Vermont dairy farm seems to be on the way out. They just can't compete with the large farms out of the midwest. It's sad to see them go. We'll enjoy them while we can.
Thursday, August 8, 2019
Joe Pye Weed
Flowers of late summer.
Bouncing Bet
Jewelweed
Joe Pye Weed
Common Nightshade
Joe Pye Weed is one of my favorite names. Something very solid about it.
Wednesday, August 7, 2019
season of blackberries
Walking the crossroads, sound of nuts falling out of the trees and onto the road. Squirrels are busy. Season of blackberries
No one's mouth is big enough to utter the whole thing.
Alan Watts
No one's mouth is big enough to utter the whole thing.
Alan Watts
Tuesday, August 6, 2019
getting ready
St. Johns Wort
Another beautiful day. Walking the Crossroads, crews working on the roads and cutting down branches near telephone wires, getting ready for the cold season. Yesterday I was getting ready for the cold season as well as I was stacking firewood in the back yard. Piles of wood in the yards of some of my neighbors.
Monday, August 5, 2019
Milky Way
Andromeda Galaxy
Yesterday was a beautiful day; sunny, no bugs. It's been hot but it cooled off considerably after sunset, temperature was about 45 degrees this morning. The sky was clear last night, and I took my new binoculars out to see what I could see. The Great Square of Pegasus and Cassiopeia prominent in the east. Those are fall constellations. Between them is the Andromeda Galaxy. I remember when I first started star gazing on my own, I could look and look for it, and never find it no matter how much time I took. Last night I was shocked that I was able to find it with the binoculars in less than a second. Was also able to get a look at the Hercules Star cluster, the Double Cluster, the Lagoon and Trifid Nebulas in Sagittarius, Albireo in the Northern Cross, and the Wild Duck Cluster. I think I might have even seen the Swan Nebula.
The real highlight of the evening was that the Milky Way was blazing across the sky. It's been years since I've seen it so clearly.
Because of light pollution, only about 1% of Americans are still able to view the Milky Way. What a loss! We definitely live in a backwater here on the Other Side of the Creek, but there are some advantages.
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