We've no livestock ro turn out to summer pasture, so our Beltane bonfire was subdued, but we did one. The winter Solstice greens by our stoop finally have been replaced with spring and summer flowers. As we broke winter's fallen branches and added them to the fire, we thought about the recent Minnesota Depaertment of Natural Resources request, that folks chip and/or compost, rather than burn, leaves and brush . We bet whoever wrote that didn't live where there's lots of older oak trees doing their self-shading routine. We pictured ourself trying to feed our dead oak branches "brush" into a chipper's chute and had a good laugh.
Later, while taking a look at our compost tumbler, we noticed a large pile of this spring's bear scat near the tumbler. It was full of the seeds of something, but we couldn't identify what, unless it was last autumn's blackberries. Two years ago the neighborhood bear tipped the tumbler over. This spring almost all that's still in it is now composted, more dirt like than garbage. Country living can get complicated. A bear-proof compost bin would have to be about as sturdy as a bear-proof chicken house, we imagine. Have you noticed how messy Mother Nature often is?
squirrels have been eating oriole's grape jelly
Photo by J. Harrington
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A delicate fabric of bird song
Floats in the air,
The smell of wet wild earth
Is everywhere.Red small leaves of the maple
Are clenched like a hand,
Like girls at their first communion
The pear trees stand.Oh I must pass nothing by
Without loving it much,
The raindrop try with my lips,
The grass with my touch;For how can I be sure
I shall see again
The world on the first of May
Shining after the rain?
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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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