Woodland, farmland, and our new home
April 4, 2012 § Leave a comment
The buds keep coming forth. The leaves brush around my feet. The dogs rush back and forth, sniffing branches, finding animal carcasses, carrying sticks around with personal pride. The sunlight flickers through the trees and falls into patterns on the ground like a kind of intangible lace.
We walk in the woods, now that we have left Colorado behind, left Iowa behind, and settled in Wisconsin to help in the building of a dream. The restoration of a place. Suddenly I have a job in the rural Upper Midwest, where I’ll be reaching out to community, planning events and workshops, and fostering the wonderful oneness of sustainable agriculture and habitat restoration. I find myself thinking, often, Is this a dream? Luck, perhaps? It is something, anyhow, that ought to be meandered through with consciousness and purpose. Yes, and gratitude.
Bad dog, Danny
March 26, 2012 § 4 Comments
You know the black dog?
He is black as night. Especially in this snow storm where I first took his picture. Remember?
Here he is a few days ago, exploring a very wonderful tree.
Well, this Danny-boy has a sweet, affectionate disposition but a bad, bad happy of chewing. As a puppy he chewed the cords off my father’s power tools. And the legs of the porch furniture. And shoes, of course. And anything else he fancied.
He’s gotten much better, but one of his favorite things still seems to be chewing packages that get dropped on the front porch. Usually we try to leave a note or put in special instructions: Packages must go INSIDE! Or, Do not deliver package without a signature!
Guess what came at some hour of the day when we happened to be (or be focused) elsewhere?
My first shipment of my books.
Guess who chewed the box open and spilled books all over the (dewy, wet, morning lawn)? Guess who put teeth or claw marks in at least half of them?
That black dog.
Good thing it was only a shipment of ten copies. Good thing I’ve learned to find humor in unfortunate circumstances. Good thing for that dog, and good thing for me.
I scooped them up in a half-panic, with my mother’s help, and wiped them down. A few were still presentable. The others will be family copies, I suppose.
We’re still dog people around here. Don’t worry. But Danny’s position in the family was, that afternoon, somewhat up for review. Good thing for him he’s the friend of the little Shar Pei we’re all smitten with. It keeps him around despite his unruly antics. (His kindly brown eyes and affectionate pet-me nudges may also help.)
And, nevertheless, what a little satisfaction it is to see this pile. A little beat up. But mine.
More on fog
March 25, 2012 § Leave a comment
My Midwest has been making me supremely happy with these dewy, foggy mornings. I step outside and breathe in the air with a feeling akin to relief. We had these rarely in Colorado, and I am sure they were not quite the same. Not the same cool thickness, not the same soaked grasses.
Today I moved to Wisconsin; more on that later. But one of my last days in Iowa started with such a gray-white, England-like morning and I had to slide on shoes – even while still in my pajamas – to catch it.
Is it possible magic things can happen in nature’s fog? Does magic dwell there somehow?
Tiptoeing around outside, I swear I felt it seeping into my skin. I stopped. Hushed. Held out my hands in welcome.
Kinds of Honey 