Tuesday Triumph - Adventures

Triumph comes and goes on her own schedule. She's here for a couple of days and disappears for weeks only to return briefly on a trail cam to take a hiatus for another week or two.

It has been frustrating trying to keep track of her without our imaginations going to an unfortunate conclusion.

Here she is in June:

We recently found other cameras around the state that have posted pictures of her.

Here's Triumph trying to purchase fireworks just before the 4th of July, because deer enjoy the night sky lit up in celebratory explosions:

Triumph was caught on surveillance cameras after-hours at the Iowa state Capital building lobbying for stricter hunting laws and a shorter deer season:

We hope she shows up at the acreage before real trouble goes her way.

Monday mom - twins

We've had a set of twins almost every year since we bought the acreage and here is this year's pair that follow their mother. They've been on every trail camera and I've disturbed them a few times while mowing or cutting weeds.

And in the weeds that needed to be cut:

We recognize that these fawns will probably grow up to nibble on seedlings or destroy a young tree while trying to rub their antlers but it's something else to pause to see a mother and young in nature.

Friday is buck day, young bucks in summer

Three young bucks at the acreage with a reminder that rutting season is only 3-6 months away.

We have more than enough deer showing up this year. That means additional caging will be needed around the seedlings and small trees to keep deer at bay. During the rut, bucks can destroy 6-8 foot walnut trees while many seedlings are nibbled on and killing them

In the mean time, we have a reminder from nature that we are all part of a great variety of species in this corner of our world.

Wednesday wildlife, fawn visitor

Cutting weeds seems like a never-ending task here at the farm. Mowing, tilling, battling with a weed cutter and hand pulling as necessary, our war on weeds is a back and forth struggle against nature's invasive roots.

On a hot day last week, a rest under the cottonwood trees outside the cabin was in order. While re-hydrating and checking emails on the phone, I looked up to this staring at me:

I'm not sure which direction he came from but he sure was quiet (or more likely, I wasn't paying much attention.)



We kept each other company for quite a while until I decided to get back to the weeds. As I got up to leave, he bounded to the south and hung out there until the mother came by. With the temp hovering in the mid 90's, I worked for another hour before calling it a day.

Some weeds survived that day.

Legacy tree - for our friend

We here at the Stranded Tree Farm will plant a tree in honor of a friend or family member and on this day I'm designating one for our friend. I chose a sugar maple (aka hard maple) because in one of our conversations, it was mentioned of a fondness of the spinning seeds they remembered as a youth.

I planted several seedlings this spring, all volunteers from the neighbor's tree at the homestead, and there were a couple that seem appropriate. One had milkweeds that sprouted along side of it and the thought of monarchs dancing in flight around the leaves seems like a good idea. The second faces the  hay field and in sight of the cabin, which means we can see the progress of its growth from the shade of the cottonwood trees.

The idea of seeing these trees grow as a representation of how a friendship should grow is a rather melancholy look at present state. I'm choosing to care for them knowing that someone may stop by to see their progress someday. At that point, our friend can make their choice:

Choice #1

Choice #2

I caged them in an attempt to keep rabbits and deer from nibbling the young, tender seedlings. For some reason, they like to clip them off and never continue to eat. I believe it is just a way for the local wildlife to harass our progress.

I would like to think that someday a young child may sit in the comfort of the shade from one of these trees, cross-legged with their favorite book in their lap. On that fall day, the winged seeds twirling down among the words on the page as the magic transports this young one to new adventures, new dreams, new worlds...

I also completed a task that was asked of me, a promise to read to the trees. It may seem to some as a silly request but there is a purpose behind it. Perhaps the winds carried these words a thousand miles away to their destination.

I relied on one of my favorite poets, Dylan Thomas. My choice was Fern Hill.

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
     The night above the dingle starry,
          Time let me hail and climb
     Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
          Trail with daisies and barley
     Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
     In the sun that is young once only,
          Time let me play and be
     Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
          And the sabbath rang slowly
     In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
     And playing, lovely and watery
          And fire green as grass.
     And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
     Flying with the ricks, and the horses
          Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
     Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
          The sky gathered again
     And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
     Out of the whinnying green stable
          On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
     In the sun born over and over,
          I ran my heedless ways,
     My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
     Before the children green and golden
          Follow him out of grace,

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
     In the moon that is always rising,
          Nor that riding to sleep
     I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
          Time held me green and dying
     Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

I'm glad that I was alone on this day for I'm afraid it was a poor performance on my part and my Welsh accent needs work. My annunciation of the words was not perfect and sweat dripped onto the page smudging the words as I spoke to the trees to fulfill my promise to my friend.

I hope they like this choice of reading, but we can revisit if needed. 

#2 updated

 

Friday is buck day, some bucks don't get along

Natural behavior from the local residents.

Rest among the cottonwood trees

This past Saturday was hot and it was a good idea to take frequent breaks, preferably in the shade. While cutting weeds and grinding up red cedar branches seems like a fun thing to do, performing these tasks in the mid 90's was a bit much.

Taking a 10-15 min break each hour was a good idea. That and water to keep sweating.

Enjoy the peaceful 30 seconds. (I did):

Tuesday Triumph - eating well

Just nibbling on grass in early May:

Although flawed, this doe has shown resilience and perseverance here at the farm. So far, she has been hanging around and a welcomed sight (at least when the weeds are cut and can be seen on camera.)

A good day - to cut weeds

As the picture below suggests, even the wildlife seems to be disappointed that the weeds were getting tall.

No rain since Friday afternoon's deluge meant I had a chance to spend Sunday on the tractor:

While in the seat, I usually don't have the radio on and I couldn't hear the phone ring anyway. I spend time listening to the tractor and mower to detect any anomaly. This has served me on a couple of occasions as a change in pitch could mean an issue. I also tend to fall into my thoughts while mowing and on this day, my thoughts were over-thinking the events of the past couple of months. (I still pay attention to what I'm doing.)

I wasn't just an operator on this day, I was an observer and this allowed me to escape my thoughts.

Dozens of swallows dived around me picking off insects escaping the wrath of the mover only to become a meal in mid air. At least 2 different types of swallows flew within inches of my head, redirecting themselves in flight to snatch an easy snack. This gorging took place for at least 3 hours as I mowed the more open acres.

Pheasants, both male and female, flying in front of the tractor to escape. Looking back, chicks ran across the newly mowed row. It would seem they hunkered down while I passed by and took the opportunity to flee.

Several birds (I really need to brush up on ornithology) built their nests this spring. Some weaving several taller weeds together to brace up their creation were seen between the walnut trees. One nest was built on a 3 foot tall thistle and I debated several seconds between the desire to rid this thorny weed and compassion for a mother's brood. The thistle won and stands tall but when the chicks leave the nest, the thistle will be cut before it goes to seed.

I was also interrupted with a set of twins as it seemed that we were chasing each other, up and down the rows of walnut trees. I first saw a pair of ears as they flitted above the orchard grass. It bounded away as I turned east down the row but returned to challenge me as I turned west again. It's sibling ran to hide under a cedar tree until the mother showed up to corral her young. The three of them ran and jumped among the walnuts for at least another 30 minutes until they ran up the dam to mock me in their victorious escape.

Besides the heat and not finishing the southern section, it was a good day to mow.

My thoughts will have to return on some other day.