Learning to live in community with people and nature and history of this place. What does it mean to be present on this landscape and with the people who walk and have walked this land?
Sunday morning at 5 am the wind hit the farm like a thunderous wall. All the upstairs doors were knocking in their frames -- trying to open and close at the same time from the violent gusts of wind coming in the windows. The windows had been left open just a crack to let in the comfortable and fresh nightime air.
And I was hit with the flu- classic high temp, chills, body aches, headaches, etc... So I was in and out of consciousness while watching V is for Vendetta three times. I've always been one of those "things worth dying for" rather than "things worth killing for" kind of people. So while I don't relate to the Vendetta as much, I appreciate (to tears) the courage of people to take to the streets in search of truth and freedom.
I hope you can see this movie. And I hope you don't have to get the flu in order to do so.
A flock/swarm of Rough Swallows has descended upon the farm and prairie to the south. In the mornings on the way to the prairie preserve they are thick, flying low over the soybeans, playing "chicken" with me and happy. They seem playful as they dip close to my head and to each other. Like a game for them- who can get closest to the human.
Our "new" chickens are so cool- a grab bag of about 20 different heritage breed chickens. All colors, shapes, feather types. They're getting big enough to start cock-a-doodle-do at sun up-- 6:08 am. These chickens haven't graduated to the coop in the barn-- so they are still milling around the house. It's nice to hear them clucking and quacking outside the windows.
New hand pump on the farm
We had to deal with an abandoned well on the farm-- our choices were to fill it with cement or put it back into use. So we decided to put it into use by installing a hand pump. It's by the barn on the cement slab where a windmill stood 100 years ago. Jury is out on whether this was a good decision - financially. It just seemed worth a little more to make the well functional than to pay to have it filled with cement...
I drove home from my job in St. Paul last night. It was a nice drive- the closer to home, the more lovely the landscape. I listened to loud eclectitc music- sunroof open. As I was about to turn off the last paved road onto the gravel road to our farm, I noticed a black lump in the road. I pulled over and helped get a large old turtle over to the wetland on the south side of the road (which cuts the wetland in half). As I turned down our dirt road there were deer- regular white tail and a mile later I swear I saw a mule deer. A skunk ambled across the road. Early in the week we saw a fox.
There were also geese flying to the south in V formations. But I try not to look and I plug my ears "lalalalalala" to block out the honking. I am NOT ready for another winter. It is simply too early for the geese to fly south. I hope that is not an omen for early winter.
It's funny how I just have to turn off the black top to take in all this wildlife. How the turtle marks my turn in the road and the landscape comes alive for me after nearly 200 miles of driving. Nice to be home.
Today my boys entered kindergarten. When I woke them up they clapped their hands and yelled hurrah! We walk down the driveway under dark skies and light rain with thunder booming to the south and east. They held hands and sang songs together.
I waved as the bus rolled away and then jogged to the south- right into the storm. I expected to feel sad at this passing milestone- but instead I felt a sense of wonder. Maybe even a little bit of freedom (bad mom!).
There was a controlled burn of the prairie preserve last spring. This fall it is full of Big Bluestem and looks entirely different- darker- some of the grass taller than me. An egret flew overhead, the wind was gusting (up to 60 mph it said on the radio), the grass swayed in waves across the preserve-- a novelty. Oh how we humans love novelty.
So I experimented with the a short video clip.
As I walked through the prairie, down to the wetland edge and across to our farmland I found this deep muddy track through the grass. At the end of the muddy track was a large downed tree. A beaver. This is the same spot where an otter popped up and just stared at me over the grass.
All my kids in school- growing up. Burning the prairie- new grass comes up. Expecting grief- finding wonder. That's a good day.
Hopefully when we get back to the farm the tomatoes will be ripe. In the mean time- I'll just tip back a cold one and enjoy the last weekend of summer.
