A never-ending story

Today's will be a very short posting. We're tired. This morning we basically finished removing buckthorn from all but a small, clump surrounding a black cherry tree behind the house. We even have photographic proof. Now we can move on to the buckthorn that's invaded the woods in from of the house.

Here's the Before picture:

slope with buckthorn

Photo by J. Harrington

Here's the After picture:

slope without buckthorn

Photo by J. Harrington

Here's what's left:

last bit to go

Photo by J. Harrington

The Before photo was taken a couple of years ago, which means we already had one season of pulling buckthorn behind us. Way in the background, downslope, is where the cherry tree with what's remaining can be seen in the after photo. To paraphrase a line from the Byrds, "I'll feel a whole lot better with [it] gone." On the other hand, Mary Oliver might well have had a different view.

Mindful

by Mary Oliver

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

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