a brush pile bonfire
Photo by J. Harrington
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There were several pickups and SUVs at one of the Carlos Avery Wildlife Management Area parking places today. I'm not sure why unless folks are scouting for archery deer season, which opens September 19. Or, I suppose it's possible foragers are becoming active as fruits and berries start to ripen. Speaking of foraging, I foolishly scattered grass seed yesterday on some areas that had been washed out by recent very heavy rains. I should have raked it in because the local bird flocks helped themselves and foraged about 99.9% of the grass seed despite all the sunflower seeds available nearby. Striking that balance of nature can be a real challenge some days. I'm trying a new approach and seeing if I can just count the grass seed debacle as a lesson learned rather than getting all perturbed about it. Plus, I want to include some white clover seeds. I appears as though the local rabbit population foraged most of the existing clover that the Better Half (and maybe the Daughter Person) planted some years ago.
We're looking forward to several days of cool, Septemberish weather with fewer clouds than normal before next weekend's heat and thunderstorms arrive. When we're outside picking away at getting the place more in shape we tend to not think very much about politics, viruses, climate breakdown and many other of this year's trials and tribulations. Instead, we ponder if we could have a barn cat to help control rodents or would that mean we have to stop feeding birds and would the local coyote pack find our barn cat to be but a midnight snack and do we need to build a barn to have a barn cat. Country living keeps us from getting bored.
Unlocking
But it is not always quiet here.Things go on while we sleep the sleep of soldiers.Ancient branches crack and splinter into dust.Large wings snap open in springlike carpets splayed out over the railing.Granite splits apart at the seamsand great animals cleave roads through woods.Daily, in the density, there is lifeon the edge of the knife that cuts the worldinto hemispheres of sense and death.Trees are born and die, bones turn to humus,glaciers to meadowland. It is timeto turn yourself loose, like new leaves,like big lakes on which swim enormous birdsat a distance deeper in breadth than the water's depth.Their shadows pull you to the shore.Their size fills your lungs with sky. It is timeto heave aside the boulders and the dams,to come back out like a bear after the thaw, to beready for the forest, for the forage, for the fulland waning moons. You will get soaked in wet grass,feel the insects pierce your skin. You will learnto balance between gravity and light. There will behot and sticky nights, sharp songs at dawn,long and bright ineffable days.This is your chance to crash your waythrough underbrush unlocking like so many doors.
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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
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