Bill wanted me to come with him to the woods to see something yesterday afternoon. I'd just finished preparing three quarts of salsa from the ripest of our many tomatoes. The final pickings filled the wheelbarrow. Having stood all afternoon, I asked if I could sit for a few minutes and sip on that fresh-brewed coffee.
That was okay with Bill. He was happy to wait. A few sips later, I donned my raincoat, Mariners baseball cap and barn shoes and followed him out the garage door with dogs and cats following close behind. We walked through the trail where tall grass had been packed down by many of Bill's trips to the woods on the 4-wheeler. Still, wetness from an afternoon's downpour was attacking my shoes and pant legs. I didn't mind on this day. We needed the moisture.
The "something" that Bill had wanted me to see started with the spot where he'd removed two logs from a white pine tree that had succumbed in the spring. He explained how he'd used the cable and another item similar to fence stretchers to pull the logs between other trees, over the grass and out into an opening, dragging them with the old Ford tractor. He especially wanted me to see how undisturbed the surface and the other trees had remained through the process.
I immediately noted that it's too bad he couldn't go full measure and use a horse to do that work. We both agreed that Casey would have been a perfect candidate for horse logging because of his common sense and willingness to please. Those observations brought forth a momentary tinge of sadness for the loss of our friend, one of many that we've both felt for the past three months.
We moved on.
"Are you going to deck these logs?" I asked. A few steps later, Bill climbed on the tractor and answered the question, pulling the two logs to a spot near one of the meadows where he'd "decked" a couple of others harvested from a blowdown in another part of the woods. He figures that when he makes them into boards, it will be nice to have them all in one spot. So, the beginning of the Lovestead log deck now has four candidates for upcoming Bill Boards.
Next, he wanted to show me the area where he'd cleaned up blowdowns and had discovered some bark beetles. My forester husband was quite pleased to learn over the fence in a visit with neighbor Jim Vanicek yesterday that Jim had taken care of a couple of his trees infested with the beetles. Bill showed me the damage inflicted by the beetle and, for a moment, thought he might even show me a beetle, but it had done its work and gone off to better bark.
As we walked through the wet woods, Kiwi kept hearing squirrels and running toward their sounds.
"She'll sit for hours out here looking up into the tree at them," Bill commented. After all, he has spent hundreds of hours in his forest, and he knows her habits. While Kiwi continued her squirrel work, Bill led me along the pathway through the trees which he's been creating for skiing, walking or snow shoeing----eventually even riding our young horses.
And, speaking of young, we looked at baby trees----some doing well, some not. The cedar trees he planted last fall all but died, but we did find one healthy seedling survivor with deep, green limbs. We also found a proud mini-white pine, which was doing quite well. Bill noted that his larch are faring the best. One never has a chance to forget how much Bill loves his larch. We inspected the green needles of one, which will soon take on their fall color transformation.
We were pretty wet by the time we returned to the house to pig out on that salsa, made from fresh garden tomatoes. I could not help but think of the daily pride and simple satisfaction one's farm can bring and how bountiful our lives have become since living at the Lovestead. The gardens, the young horses, the old trees and the young, the happy dogs and cats. Much to harvest, much to enjoy, and many reasons to look forward toward each new day.
1 comment:
and the only thing that could be added is.....
And life is good...
Post a Comment