The Circle Game continues

The hoary puccoon is blooming in profusion. Pink tints are showing from the beardtongue buds that  should open soon. The poison ivy we sprayed last week is shriveling and disappearing. Today we cut the grass in the back yard. In the process we discovered some fresh pocket gopher mounds. Tomorrow, after we pick up our final Spring Greens CSA share, we'll probe for main tunnels and see about setting traps. At the rate we're getting the property tidied up, we'll be done just in time for Autumn's leaf fall and the cycle will continue. I'm trying to adjust my perspective to seeing life in terms of continuing cycles instead of a series of discrete projects. So far, fly-fishing keeps getting elbowed out of the cycle, That won't do so I'll just see where and how it can be worked in as an integrated aspect of my life cycle. At the moment, I'm thinking back to when I read Gene Hill's wonderful story "When Pheasant Season Was from Chores 'Til Dark," a country boy's view of how life is organized.

late Winter: pheasant

Photo by J. Harrington

A hawk, species uncertain, has been hanging around and perching along the wood line after flying low over the fields during the past week or so. Might we have a new neighbor? That would be cool. No fawn sightings yet. Occasional turkeys skulk or strut through the field behind the house.

The Better Half has weeded her lily garden so blossoms, when they arrive, won't have to compete with tall weeds. i think we're both finding that getting outside and being more active leaves us feeling tired but overall better than when we are but couch potatoes. Let's see if tomorrow I agree with that assessment.

late July lily blossom

Photo by J. Harrington

All in all, we're shifting into a Summer mode, tempered by coronavirus precautions. Driving the tractor, cutting grass, wearing bluetooth hearing protectors connected to a playlist on my smart phone is not a bad way to live. If the small engine doctor can get the tiller running, next week we hope to start a three sisters garden. The days to maturity should give us harvests around the end of August or early September if we get the planting done next week. Wish us luck.

The Garden Year

Sara Coleridge

January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow. 

February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again. 

March brings breezes, loud and shrill,
To stir the dancing daffodil. 

April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet. 

May brings flocks of pretty lambs
Skipping by their fleecy dams. 

June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies. 

Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots, and gillyflowers. 

August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne. 

Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot. 

Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant. 

Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast. 

Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.

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