I looked out the kitchen window yesterday and staring me brightly in the face were several beautiful big clumps of yellow crocus blooms. I hadn't even noticed that the buds were up! (So much for my great powers of observation.)
When I looked back at last year's blogs, it appears that the crocus blooms are about a week behind where they were then. I'm actually quite thankful for that. Hopefully we will have a slower but steadier spring, without the trauma of a late frost cutting back weeks of tender spring growth.
Spring fever, however, is definitely beginning to rumble in my psyche.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Jackrabbit Redux
As is my habit when I encounter something new, I did a little research after seeing the jackrabbit a few days ago. What I found out is, as usual, interesting (at least to me!).
First of all, finding one in an overgrazed pasture is not unusual at all. They like shorter grasses that they can see over, since they are preyed upon by a wide variety of raptors and by a few mammals. What I haven't been able to find out is how common they currently are in Sedgwick County. Prairiewolf says he used to see them when he was quite young, but that by the time he was in high school, they seemed to have disappeared from the area. This was the first one he had seen in Sedgwick County since his childhood.
The species we saw was the black-tailed jackrabbit, Lepus californicus melanotis. It's actually a hare, and its young are precocial, meaning they are born fully furred, with their eyes open and ready to leave the nest shortly after birth.
Jackrabbits became a major agricultural pest during the Dust Bowl days of the 1930's. At a time when there was little vegetation at all because of drought, their numbers actually peaked, probably because of warm winter weather and subsequent low mortality. The attitude of "kill any predator you see on sight," prevalent at the time, certainly wouldn't have helped much either. The jackrabbits literally started competing with cattle and other livestock for what little grass was available. (One site, the Internet Center for Wildlife Damage Management, states that hares can eat 1/2 - 1 pound of green vegetation every day, so you can see that large numbers of jackrabbits would definitely have an effect on vegetation.) Jackrabbit roundups were held to try to decrease their population, but these were of limited success. Their numbers seemed to decline naturally over the years, with a particularly sharp decline occurring in the late 50's/early 60's.
While I was unable to find definitive statistics about their current abundance in Sedgwick County, the concensus seems to be that recent changes in farming practices have decreased their numbers overall, especially in eastern Kansas. There seems to be little concern about jackrabbits reaching agricultural pest status again any time soon.
So I think I can enjoy my jackrabbit sighting with little or no concern...knock on wood!
First of all, finding one in an overgrazed pasture is not unusual at all. They like shorter grasses that they can see over, since they are preyed upon by a wide variety of raptors and by a few mammals. What I haven't been able to find out is how common they currently are in Sedgwick County. Prairiewolf says he used to see them when he was quite young, but that by the time he was in high school, they seemed to have disappeared from the area. This was the first one he had seen in Sedgwick County since his childhood.
The species we saw was the black-tailed jackrabbit, Lepus californicus melanotis. It's actually a hare, and its young are precocial, meaning they are born fully furred, with their eyes open and ready to leave the nest shortly after birth.
Jackrabbits became a major agricultural pest during the Dust Bowl days of the 1930's. At a time when there was little vegetation at all because of drought, their numbers actually peaked, probably because of warm winter weather and subsequent low mortality. The attitude of "kill any predator you see on sight," prevalent at the time, certainly wouldn't have helped much either. The jackrabbits literally started competing with cattle and other livestock for what little grass was available. (One site, the Internet Center for Wildlife Damage Management, states that hares can eat 1/2 - 1 pound of green vegetation every day, so you can see that large numbers of jackrabbits would definitely have an effect on vegetation.) Jackrabbit roundups were held to try to decrease their population, but these were of limited success. Their numbers seemed to decline naturally over the years, with a particularly sharp decline occurring in the late 50's/early 60's.
While I was unable to find definitive statistics about their current abundance in Sedgwick County, the concensus seems to be that recent changes in farming practices have decreased their numbers overall, especially in eastern Kansas. There seems to be little concern about jackrabbits reaching agricultural pest status again any time soon.
So I think I can enjoy my jackrabbit sighting with little or no concern...knock on wood!
Clash of the Titans: Winter vs. Spring
The last few weeks have included wild swings between signs of impending spring and strong reminders that winter isn't willing to loosen its grip yet.
Two weeks ago tomorrow, I heard the first meadowlarks setting up territories in our back five. We have a pair of easterns that seem to be staking out our land in particular, at least 2 other pairs of easterns within hearing distance...and I actually heard one lone western singing away in a field just a little south of us.
One morning last week, I noticed that the cardinals had joined the springtime territorial chorus, then just a few days later I heard red-winged blackbirds vocalizing their raucous, "Ogalee!!!" These bird calls just make my heart sing along when I hear them.
The crocuses are poking up through the mulch, too. Just an inch or so is showing, but the fresh, bright green is wonderfully promising.
So much for spring.
The strongest, yet oddest, winter phenomenon we've had recently was waking up on the night before last to thundersleet. This is the fourth winter thunderstorm we've had in two months, and I find that very odd. Having just one was strange; I really don't know how to react to four of them. I briefly researched this type of storm on the web, and all of the sites I looked at noted that winter thunderstorms were quite "unusual." What's doubly unusual to me is that the temperatures have usually been quite cold when the storms roll in (Wednesday night's storm occurred while it was 19 degrees Fahrenheit), and at least 2 of the storms have occurred in the wee hours of the night when the atmospheric energy should, theoretically, be less than it is during the day.
There's a little part of me wondering what the spring storms will be like if the winter storms are already bringing us such unusual weather.
Overall, I have to admit that I'm glad we haven't had any prolonged warm spells. As enjoyable as those are, I hate having the plants leaf out early, only to be set way back by a late freeze. Surprisingly, I'm not suffering badly from spring fever yet. Too much to do inside the house, still, I guess.
The Wichita Lawn and Garden Show is in 2 weeks; that's probably when spring fever will descend on me with a vengeance. I wonder what strange and wonderful things I'll find there this year!
Two weeks ago tomorrow, I heard the first meadowlarks setting up territories in our back five. We have a pair of easterns that seem to be staking out our land in particular, at least 2 other pairs of easterns within hearing distance...and I actually heard one lone western singing away in a field just a little south of us.
One morning last week, I noticed that the cardinals had joined the springtime territorial chorus, then just a few days later I heard red-winged blackbirds vocalizing their raucous, "Ogalee!!!" These bird calls just make my heart sing along when I hear them.
The crocuses are poking up through the mulch, too. Just an inch or so is showing, but the fresh, bright green is wonderfully promising.
So much for spring.
The strongest, yet oddest, winter phenomenon we've had recently was waking up on the night before last to thundersleet. This is the fourth winter thunderstorm we've had in two months, and I find that very odd. Having just one was strange; I really don't know how to react to four of them. I briefly researched this type of storm on the web, and all of the sites I looked at noted that winter thunderstorms were quite "unusual." What's doubly unusual to me is that the temperatures have usually been quite cold when the storms roll in (Wednesday night's storm occurred while it was 19 degrees Fahrenheit), and at least 2 of the storms have occurred in the wee hours of the night when the atmospheric energy should, theoretically, be less than it is during the day.
There's a little part of me wondering what the spring storms will be like if the winter storms are already bringing us such unusual weather.
Overall, I have to admit that I'm glad we haven't had any prolonged warm spells. As enjoyable as those are, I hate having the plants leaf out early, only to be set way back by a late freeze. Surprisingly, I'm not suffering badly from spring fever yet. Too much to do inside the house, still, I guess.
The Wichita Lawn and Garden Show is in 2 weeks; that's probably when spring fever will descend on me with a vengeance. I wonder what strange and wonderful things I'll find there this year!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
A Back Five Surprise!
Prairiewolf and I took the two young, energetic canine idiots on a walk this evening through our back five acres, enjoying the last of the warm air before the cold front comes through tonight. About 10 days ago, during the last warm spell, I heard a meadowlark pair beginning their territorial songs out there. They were there again tonight. I've seen a cotton rat, too, as well as occasional coyote scat, and I'm sure there are voles and other small rodents by the score there.
But tonight I saw something that truly astonished me - a jackrabbit. We flushed him as we walked by, and I immediately knew this wasn't any cottontail. He was big, with black on his tail and black tips on his ears. Not surprisingly, the only view we got was of his hind end as he skedaddled out of there. For as long as we could see him, he was still running.
I'm hoping he's scoping out the area as a permanent residence. That would be an astonishing success, in my eyes, for the habitat in that back five acres was horribly degraded by years of overgrazing and, despite our allowing it to lie fallow this year, it is still covered mainly with weedy, low food- and cover-value species such as prairie three-awn grass. Watching the changes that occur is already proving to be fascinating.
But tonight I saw something that truly astonished me - a jackrabbit. We flushed him as we walked by, and I immediately knew this wasn't any cottontail. He was big, with black on his tail and black tips on his ears. Not surprisingly, the only view we got was of his hind end as he skedaddled out of there. For as long as we could see him, he was still running.
I'm hoping he's scoping out the area as a permanent residence. That would be an astonishing success, in my eyes, for the habitat in that back five acres was horribly degraded by years of overgrazing and, despite our allowing it to lie fallow this year, it is still covered mainly with weedy, low food- and cover-value species such as prairie three-awn grass. Watching the changes that occur is already proving to be fascinating.
The View To and From 1868
A good friend recently sent me a wonderful present, the 1868 Report from the Department of Agriculture. This is no piece of fluff, but a hardbound book, 671 pages in length.
I've been having a delightful time vicariously exploring our country and its agriculture 140 years ago.
For a little background and local scene-setting....
In 1868, the Chisholm Trail was 3 years old. Cattle drives from north Texas to the new railhead at Abilene, Kansas, had started the previous year. (These drives would only continue for another 5-6 years before fences across the trail curtailed its use.)
Bison were still commonly seen in this area.
Wichita did not yet exist. In 1865 William Greiffenstein, "Dutch Bill", had established a trading post on Cowskin Creek near the present site of Wichita. The entire area had been surveyed in 1867 and, by 1868, it was beginning to open to settlement. 1868 was the year, in fact, that Wichita became the actual gleam in its forefathers' eyes. A small group of men started the Wichita Land and Town Company that year to promote the establishment of a new city. The only buildings that existed there, though, seemed to have been built that year. They were a house constructed of cottonwood logs by D. S. Munger and a hotel known as the Buckhorn, owned by Mr. and Mrs. Henry Vigus. The first church was not built until the following year and the first jail wasn't built until 1871.
Back to the 1868 Agricultural Report....
Lots of land was still available for homesteading and settlement. In Kansas specifically, only 20% of the land had so far been purchased or "entered under homestead laws"; approximately 80% was still available. In the country as a whole, 18 times the combined areas of Great Brtain and Ireland remained to be sold or homesteaded. To homestead, you were supposed to be a U.S. citizen or have "declared [your] intentions to become such." And, of course, you had to be male, over the age of 21 or "the head of a family", and planning to use the land for actual settlement and cultivation yourself.
Kansas was glowingly described. The Neosho River Valley was "considered the garden spot of Kansas." The climate of the southern portion of the state is described as "temperate and healthful, and especially favorable to stock-raising." Also, "[t]he climate is peculiarly adapted to the cultivation of the grape. Excellent wine from the Kansas grape has been manufactured."
With typical "grass is greener" greed, this notation was made, "In the year 1867 nearly 2,900,000 acres were surveyed in the Cherokee neutral and Osage reservations, situated near the southern boundary of Kansas. As Indian reserves, these lands had been kept out of the market, and are reported as among the most desirable in the State. They are now open for homestead entry."
Not surprisingly, agricultural commodity reports were given. Indian corn was the primary crop produced in Kansas in 1868, selling for $.99/bushel. Wheat was second, selling for $1.35/bushel. That year, averaged across the country, corn yielded 25.9 bushels/acre and wheat yielded 12.1 bushels/acre. Specific yields for Kansas aren't given.
However, on average in Kansas that year, corn produced $17.82/acre, wheat produced $21.06/acre, and rye $21.42/acre. The most lucrative crop per acre was tobacco at $143/acre, followed by potatoes at $79.90/acre.
A big problem across the country, as noted in this report, were losses and depredations by dogs. In Atchison County, Kansas, one correspondent noted that some farmers had disposed of their sheep because of "the destruction of dogs and prairie wolves. Dogs are quite numerous and the greatest nuisance, and I think our legislature should tax them heavily." In Ohio alone, it was reported that over the prior decade an average of 35,715 sheep had been killed and 23,374 injured by dogs each year.
Grape culture and wine production were reported on quite extensively in this volume. Only 1 county in Kansas, Leavenworth, actually reported any such activity, though. An average of 450 gallons of wine per year had been produced there over the preceeding 5 years.
Not surprisingly for a country being newly settled, hedge building was an important topic. The cost of putting in a hedge was compared to the comparable cost of building wooden fences, with hedges reported to be significantly cheaper. The total cost of hedging a quarter-section farm for 20 years, including maintenance, was placed at $1596, while board fencing during the same period of time was estimated at $4000. (Remember that at this time, through the Homestead Act, that same quarter-section farm would only have cost $200 plus $18 in commissions and fees.)
While the honeylocust (the species, Gleditschia [sic] triacanthos, complete with thorns) was mentioned as a desireable hedge tree, and it was mentioned that buckthorn (Rhamnus catharticus), Cherokee rose (Rosa laevigata) and other species had been tried, the osage orange (Maclura pomifera, then identified as Maclura aurantiaca) was the tree being touted as most ideal for use throughout much of the country. This could be obtained either through the purchase of seeds or through the purchase of "quicks", which we would undoubtedly call whips or seedlings today. Quicks were the recommended method of establishing a good hedge.
It was recommended to trim the newly planted hedge trees each year for several years to thicken the growth. "Pleaching" the hedges when they reached 2" in diameter at 3' above the ground was also highly recommended. (As far as I can determine, pleaching a hedge means to braid or interlace the shoots.) If a double row hedge was pleached by crossing the saplings alternately, a herring-bone hedge was produced, apparently a particularly strong type of hedge.
I must admit that I rarely see double hedges of osage orange, let alone hedges that appear to have been pleached at any time during their life, so I doubt that these recommendations were widely followed, at least around here.
County roads were a big concern. Throughout the country, it was common to require all able-bodied men between certain ages (for example, between 16 and 60) to provide several days free labor each year to build and maintain these roads. The number of days' labor that were required varied from one to fifteen days, depending on the state. A man reporting from Massachusetts highlighted one of the common, major flaws of this system, however, "The system is good where the people are all interestd in good roads, but there are many who are never ready to work or pay; and, if they pretend to work, it is more of a holiday affair than a matter of public benefit." A new system was proposed in this report that consisted of levying a tax in money, rather than in labor, for the purpose of constructing and repairing all roads in a county under the management of a permanently employed, "competent county road engineer".
Human nature doesn't change, does it? There are always those who want others to carry their load for them while they goof off or otherwise refuse to participate in projects for the good of the community overall.
Of course, 1868 was well before the days of chemical agriculture. I noticed several reports that showed how farmers, then, dealt with soil fertility and pest problems. Not all of their methods were benign.
One report noted how much better wheat did if it was planted after red clover, better even than after the application of manure or other forms of fertilizer. Clover grown for seed, rather than cut for hay or grazed by sheep, produced the absolute best crops of wheat the following year.
It was recommended that potato bugs be managed by first planting varieties that they particularly liked, attracting all newly emerging potato bugs in the spring and keeping them occupied, then later planting other, less tasty (to the bugs) varieties which can develop "unmolested".
Another farmer noted his experience with potato bugs too. He reported that the bugs appeared in patches in his field. He handpicked the bugs, larvae, and eggs for several weeks until a friend recommended a mixture of "Paris green" and dry ashes for potato bug control. When he tried it, he said this worked extremely well. [Note: looking up "Paris green" on the web, it appears to be a TOXIC double salt of copper arsenate and copper acetate. This WOULD NOT be a recommended organic pest control method!] Ultimately this farmer recommended specific methods of planting to increase the ease of finding (and thus picking off and destroying) the potato bugs; he felt that this way one could "sav[e] the cost of the pigment". He also recommended not planting on ground where potatoes grew the year before, where the potato bug population would already be well established.
Side notes....
In New Jersey, land was renting at $100/acre for market gardening, which seems fairly expensive to me.
"Camus", also identified as the bulb of Scilla Fraseri [sic], eastern quamash, or wild hyacinth, was noted to be an important food item for the Native Americans. It was reported to have a sweet, gummy taste and to be very nutritious, and therefore it was being recommended as a potential "new" culinary vegetable for cultivation. (Note: I have no knowledge as to the actual edibility of this plant. PLEASE don't try it! For all I know it's very poisonous.)
There were many variegated varieties of trees being recommended for planting, including a variegated osage orange, a variegated sycamore, and a variegated red maple. There was even a variegated ginkgo noted!
Many trees were discussed as suitable for street trees. I was rather pleasantly surprised at how many were somewhat unusual natives, like yellow wood (Cladrastis kentukea, known then as Cladrastis tinctoria), wild cherry (Prunus serotina), osage orange!, and even the Kentucky coffee tree (Gymnocladus canadensis, now known as G. dioicus). Of course boxelder (Acer negundo), known then as ash-leaved maple (Negundo aceroides) and silver maple (Acer saccharinum, known then as Acer dasycarpum) were also recommended street trees! The boxelder was actually described as "one of the finest formed ornamental trees where it has space to develop its natural outline."
Last, but not least, it was interesting to note the climatological data recorded. In Kansas, the recorded lows for 1868 occurred on December 11, measuring from -6 in Baxter Springs to -20 in "Olatha". The recorded highs for the year occurred between July 20-22, with Holton reaching 111, Leavenworth 108, and Atchison 107. (Remember, fully 80% of the state hadn't yet been settled by Europeans during 1868; presumably the Native Americans would not have been measuring and/or recording temperature readings using European measurements at this time.)
So what impressions am I left with overall?
* The weather was quite variable in Kansas that year. Comparatively, we generally don't have anything much to complain about, especially considering that we have heating and air conditioning in our homes!
* Kansas was truly a baby 140 years ago. So maybe when the policies of its people and politicians don't seem very wise to me, there's a reason - even now, as far as states and countries go, Kansas is still barely adolescent in its development!
* Going back to "the good old days" isn't all it's cracked up to be. Can you imagine the uproar if all able-bodied people were actually required to pitch in days of free labor to help our country run, instead of just allowing themselves to be taxed? The jury system is one of the only vestiges of the old system of running things left, and I know how most people go out of their way to avoid serving their time in that venue.
* Crop rotation and hand-picking insect pests have been important agricultural techniques for a long time.
* Wine was basically just another agricultural product. And the farmers and settlers in Kansas were being encouraged to experiment with growing the grapes and producing this popular product.
* Marketing is nothing new. From "finest formed ornamental trees" to "mild", "temperate" and "healthful" Kansas weather, promoters push the limits of credibility. Then, as now, the buyer had better beware.
Comparing aspects of life-then with life-now can certainly be fascinating. Overall, I guess, the truism that comes to mind is, "The more things change, the more they stay the same."
I've been having a delightful time vicariously exploring our country and its agriculture 140 years ago.
For a little background and local scene-setting....
In 1868, the Chisholm Trail was 3 years old. Cattle drives from north Texas to the new railhead at Abilene, Kansas, had started the previous year. (These drives would only continue for another 5-6 years before fences across the trail curtailed its use.)
Bison were still commonly seen in this area.
Wichita did not yet exist. In 1865 William Greiffenstein, "Dutch Bill", had established a trading post on Cowskin Creek near the present site of Wichita. The entire area had been surveyed in 1867 and, by 1868, it was beginning to open to settlement. 1868 was the year, in fact, that Wichita became the actual gleam in its forefathers' eyes. A small group of men started the Wichita Land and Town Company that year to promote the establishment of a new city. The only buildings that existed there, though, seemed to have been built that year. They were a house constructed of cottonwood logs by D. S. Munger and a hotel known as the Buckhorn, owned by Mr. and Mrs. Henry Vigus. The first church was not built until the following year and the first jail wasn't built until 1871.
Back to the 1868 Agricultural Report....
Lots of land was still available for homesteading and settlement. In Kansas specifically, only 20% of the land had so far been purchased or "entered under homestead laws"; approximately 80% was still available. In the country as a whole, 18 times the combined areas of Great Brtain and Ireland remained to be sold or homesteaded. To homestead, you were supposed to be a U.S. citizen or have "declared [your] intentions to become such." And, of course, you had to be male, over the age of 21 or "the head of a family", and planning to use the land for actual settlement and cultivation yourself.
Kansas was glowingly described. The Neosho River Valley was "considered the garden spot of Kansas." The climate of the southern portion of the state is described as "temperate and healthful, and especially favorable to stock-raising." Also, "[t]he climate is peculiarly adapted to the cultivation of the grape. Excellent wine from the Kansas grape has been manufactured."
With typical "grass is greener" greed, this notation was made, "In the year 1867 nearly 2,900,000 acres were surveyed in the Cherokee neutral and Osage reservations, situated near the southern boundary of Kansas. As Indian reserves, these lands had been kept out of the market, and are reported as among the most desirable in the State. They are now open for homestead entry."
Not surprisingly, agricultural commodity reports were given. Indian corn was the primary crop produced in Kansas in 1868, selling for $.99/bushel. Wheat was second, selling for $1.35/bushel. That year, averaged across the country, corn yielded 25.9 bushels/acre and wheat yielded 12.1 bushels/acre. Specific yields for Kansas aren't given.
However, on average in Kansas that year, corn produced $17.82/acre, wheat produced $21.06/acre, and rye $21.42/acre. The most lucrative crop per acre was tobacco at $143/acre, followed by potatoes at $79.90/acre.
A big problem across the country, as noted in this report, were losses and depredations by dogs. In Atchison County, Kansas, one correspondent noted that some farmers had disposed of their sheep because of "the destruction of dogs and prairie wolves. Dogs are quite numerous and the greatest nuisance, and I think our legislature should tax them heavily." In Ohio alone, it was reported that over the prior decade an average of 35,715 sheep had been killed and 23,374 injured by dogs each year.
Grape culture and wine production were reported on quite extensively in this volume. Only 1 county in Kansas, Leavenworth, actually reported any such activity, though. An average of 450 gallons of wine per year had been produced there over the preceeding 5 years.
Not surprisingly for a country being newly settled, hedge building was an important topic. The cost of putting in a hedge was compared to the comparable cost of building wooden fences, with hedges reported to be significantly cheaper. The total cost of hedging a quarter-section farm for 20 years, including maintenance, was placed at $1596, while board fencing during the same period of time was estimated at $4000. (Remember that at this time, through the Homestead Act, that same quarter-section farm would only have cost $200 plus $18 in commissions and fees.)
While the honeylocust (the species, Gleditschia [sic] triacanthos, complete with thorns) was mentioned as a desireable hedge tree, and it was mentioned that buckthorn (Rhamnus catharticus), Cherokee rose (Rosa laevigata) and other species had been tried, the osage orange (Maclura pomifera, then identified as Maclura aurantiaca) was the tree being touted as most ideal for use throughout much of the country. This could be obtained either through the purchase of seeds or through the purchase of "quicks", which we would undoubtedly call whips or seedlings today. Quicks were the recommended method of establishing a good hedge.
It was recommended to trim the newly planted hedge trees each year for several years to thicken the growth. "Pleaching" the hedges when they reached 2" in diameter at 3' above the ground was also highly recommended. (As far as I can determine, pleaching a hedge means to braid or interlace the shoots.) If a double row hedge was pleached by crossing the saplings alternately, a herring-bone hedge was produced, apparently a particularly strong type of hedge.
I must admit that I rarely see double hedges of osage orange, let alone hedges that appear to have been pleached at any time during their life, so I doubt that these recommendations were widely followed, at least around here.
County roads were a big concern. Throughout the country, it was common to require all able-bodied men between certain ages (for example, between 16 and 60) to provide several days free labor each year to build and maintain these roads. The number of days' labor that were required varied from one to fifteen days, depending on the state. A man reporting from Massachusetts highlighted one of the common, major flaws of this system, however, "The system is good where the people are all interestd in good roads, but there are many who are never ready to work or pay; and, if they pretend to work, it is more of a holiday affair than a matter of public benefit." A new system was proposed in this report that consisted of levying a tax in money, rather than in labor, for the purpose of constructing and repairing all roads in a county under the management of a permanently employed, "competent county road engineer".
Human nature doesn't change, does it? There are always those who want others to carry their load for them while they goof off or otherwise refuse to participate in projects for the good of the community overall.
Of course, 1868 was well before the days of chemical agriculture. I noticed several reports that showed how farmers, then, dealt with soil fertility and pest problems. Not all of their methods were benign.
One report noted how much better wheat did if it was planted after red clover, better even than after the application of manure or other forms of fertilizer. Clover grown for seed, rather than cut for hay or grazed by sheep, produced the absolute best crops of wheat the following year.
It was recommended that potato bugs be managed by first planting varieties that they particularly liked, attracting all newly emerging potato bugs in the spring and keeping them occupied, then later planting other, less tasty (to the bugs) varieties which can develop "unmolested".
Another farmer noted his experience with potato bugs too. He reported that the bugs appeared in patches in his field. He handpicked the bugs, larvae, and eggs for several weeks until a friend recommended a mixture of "Paris green" and dry ashes for potato bug control. When he tried it, he said this worked extremely well. [Note: looking up "Paris green" on the web, it appears to be a TOXIC double salt of copper arsenate and copper acetate. This WOULD NOT be a recommended organic pest control method!] Ultimately this farmer recommended specific methods of planting to increase the ease of finding (and thus picking off and destroying) the potato bugs; he felt that this way one could "sav[e] the cost of the pigment". He also recommended not planting on ground where potatoes grew the year before, where the potato bug population would already be well established.
Side notes....
In New Jersey, land was renting at $100/acre for market gardening, which seems fairly expensive to me.
"Camus", also identified as the bulb of Scilla Fraseri [sic], eastern quamash, or wild hyacinth, was noted to be an important food item for the Native Americans. It was reported to have a sweet, gummy taste and to be very nutritious, and therefore it was being recommended as a potential "new" culinary vegetable for cultivation. (Note: I have no knowledge as to the actual edibility of this plant. PLEASE don't try it! For all I know it's very poisonous.)
There were many variegated varieties of trees being recommended for planting, including a variegated osage orange, a variegated sycamore, and a variegated red maple. There was even a variegated ginkgo noted!
Many trees were discussed as suitable for street trees. I was rather pleasantly surprised at how many were somewhat unusual natives, like yellow wood (Cladrastis kentukea, known then as Cladrastis tinctoria), wild cherry (Prunus serotina), osage orange!, and even the Kentucky coffee tree (Gymnocladus canadensis, now known as G. dioicus). Of course boxelder (Acer negundo), known then as ash-leaved maple (Negundo aceroides) and silver maple (Acer saccharinum, known then as Acer dasycarpum) were also recommended street trees! The boxelder was actually described as "one of the finest formed ornamental trees where it has space to develop its natural outline."
Last, but not least, it was interesting to note the climatological data recorded. In Kansas, the recorded lows for 1868 occurred on December 11, measuring from -6 in Baxter Springs to -20 in "Olatha". The recorded highs for the year occurred between July 20-22, with Holton reaching 111, Leavenworth 108, and Atchison 107. (Remember, fully 80% of the state hadn't yet been settled by Europeans during 1868; presumably the Native Americans would not have been measuring and/or recording temperature readings using European measurements at this time.)
So what impressions am I left with overall?
* The weather was quite variable in Kansas that year. Comparatively, we generally don't have anything much to complain about, especially considering that we have heating and air conditioning in our homes!
* Kansas was truly a baby 140 years ago. So maybe when the policies of its people and politicians don't seem very wise to me, there's a reason - even now, as far as states and countries go, Kansas is still barely adolescent in its development!
* Going back to "the good old days" isn't all it's cracked up to be. Can you imagine the uproar if all able-bodied people were actually required to pitch in days of free labor to help our country run, instead of just allowing themselves to be taxed? The jury system is one of the only vestiges of the old system of running things left, and I know how most people go out of their way to avoid serving their time in that venue.
* Crop rotation and hand-picking insect pests have been important agricultural techniques for a long time.
* Wine was basically just another agricultural product. And the farmers and settlers in Kansas were being encouraged to experiment with growing the grapes and producing this popular product.
* Marketing is nothing new. From "finest formed ornamental trees" to "mild", "temperate" and "healthful" Kansas weather, promoters push the limits of credibility. Then, as now, the buyer had better beware.
Comparing aspects of life-then with life-now can certainly be fascinating. Overall, I guess, the truism that comes to mind is, "The more things change, the more they stay the same."
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Ordinary Serendipity
It's funny how, every once in a while, life throws something at you several times in a row, as if to say, "Hey, idiot! Pay attention to THIS!"
I've been getting that sort of notice over the last several days, but not about anything in particular. No, in fact I feel like I'm being reminded to pay attention to the wonderfulness of ordinary life.
There was the message in Thomas Moore's book, Dark Nights of the Soul:
One of the greatest things a human being can do is raise a child to be happy and wise. One of the most altruistic things you can do is be a good neighbor and an involved citizen. The soul is fulfilled by the ordinary....
...the deep soul longs for ordinary connection and engagement. It wants friendship and family and community. It longs for the simple pleasures...
Then in today's Wichita Eagle, Suzanne Perez Tobias's column, entitled, " 'Dalai Mama': Or how to stop and smell the Glade," dealt with the related theme of taking time to notice the wonderful in the ordinary - her example being the excitement felt by a young child smelling the air fresheners in the grocery store, totally missed by the child's mother who was busily chosing the perfect bathroom cleaner to rout out soap scum.
When I visited in Mobile last month, I remember, too, a snippet of conversation about how much we all deeply enjoy our ordinary routines, especially as we've gotten a little older.
Suddenly all of these reminders coalesced into the deep pleasure of luxuriating in my ordinary morning. The sky is gray, a little snow is spitting, the temperatures are nippy and the wind is blowing, but I'm warm inside, lazily lounging in my robe, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the birds filter into the feeders and then lift out again in sudden waves of caution. I've read the paper, had a bowl of cereal, fed the cat and dogs, and now I'm doing my daily computer check-in, complete with a purring cat snuggling into my arms and a content dog lying at my feet.
I don't think life can get much richer than this.
I've been getting that sort of notice over the last several days, but not about anything in particular. No, in fact I feel like I'm being reminded to pay attention to the wonderfulness of ordinary life.
There was the message in Thomas Moore's book, Dark Nights of the Soul:
One of the greatest things a human being can do is raise a child to be happy and wise. One of the most altruistic things you can do is be a good neighbor and an involved citizen. The soul is fulfilled by the ordinary....
...the deep soul longs for ordinary connection and engagement. It wants friendship and family and community. It longs for the simple pleasures...
Then in today's Wichita Eagle, Suzanne Perez Tobias's column, entitled, " 'Dalai Mama': Or how to stop and smell the Glade," dealt with the related theme of taking time to notice the wonderful in the ordinary - her example being the excitement felt by a young child smelling the air fresheners in the grocery store, totally missed by the child's mother who was busily chosing the perfect bathroom cleaner to rout out soap scum.
When I visited in Mobile last month, I remember, too, a snippet of conversation about how much we all deeply enjoy our ordinary routines, especially as we've gotten a little older.
Suddenly all of these reminders coalesced into the deep pleasure of luxuriating in my ordinary morning. The sky is gray, a little snow is spitting, the temperatures are nippy and the wind is blowing, but I'm warm inside, lazily lounging in my robe, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the birds filter into the feeders and then lift out again in sudden waves of caution. I've read the paper, had a bowl of cereal, fed the cat and dogs, and now I'm doing my daily computer check-in, complete with a purring cat snuggling into my arms and a content dog lying at my feet.
I don't think life can get much richer than this.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Interesting Winter Birds
This is one of those times when I'm both thrilled and sad at the same time. It's been an "irruption year," which means a year when large numbers of northern bird species are seen further south than normal.
Of course, as a birder, seeing birds at my feeders that aren't there during most winters is a lot of fun. That's the thrill.
On the other hand, the reason these birds have to forage so far south is generally assumed to be because their food supplies up north are so poor this year. This means that their habitat is compromised this year, which almost certainly means that their mortality will be higher than normal. That's the sadness.
First I saw red-breasted nuthatches early in the fall. Shortly thereafter I saw a couple purple finches, then pine siskins. Pine siskins aren't too unusual here during the winter, but the red-breasted nuthatches and purple finches are much less common. The nuthatches and pine siskins have been coming daily. I've seen the purple finches just a few times.
Then today I saw the most unusual irruption species I've seen so far: a red crossbill. That may be the first one I've personally seen in Kansas.
At first I noticed a very orangy-red bird that I thought might be an unusally colored purple finch, based on the amount of color. Then I noticed that it wasn't very streaky, and that the wings were almost a solid tannish brown, with a strong brown eye streak on its face. At this point I grabbed the binoculars for a closer look...and, low and behold, I noticed the longer-than-normal bill with the oddly offset tips. I checked against the guide book - sure enough, a red crossbill.
I wish it well. Hopefully it will fatten up on all the sunflower seeds I'm providing and be able to head back north, healthy and ready to breed this summer. Meanwhile, I'm enjoying all of my unusual visitors.
Of course, as a birder, seeing birds at my feeders that aren't there during most winters is a lot of fun. That's the thrill.
On the other hand, the reason these birds have to forage so far south is generally assumed to be because their food supplies up north are so poor this year. This means that their habitat is compromised this year, which almost certainly means that their mortality will be higher than normal. That's the sadness.
First I saw red-breasted nuthatches early in the fall. Shortly thereafter I saw a couple purple finches, then pine siskins. Pine siskins aren't too unusual here during the winter, but the red-breasted nuthatches and purple finches are much less common. The nuthatches and pine siskins have been coming daily. I've seen the purple finches just a few times.
Then today I saw the most unusual irruption species I've seen so far: a red crossbill. That may be the first one I've personally seen in Kansas.
At first I noticed a very orangy-red bird that I thought might be an unusally colored purple finch, based on the amount of color. Then I noticed that it wasn't very streaky, and that the wings were almost a solid tannish brown, with a strong brown eye streak on its face. At this point I grabbed the binoculars for a closer look...and, low and behold, I noticed the longer-than-normal bill with the oddly offset tips. I checked against the guide book - sure enough, a red crossbill.
I wish it well. Hopefully it will fatten up on all the sunflower seeds I'm providing and be able to head back north, healthy and ready to breed this summer. Meanwhile, I'm enjoying all of my unusual visitors.
Officially Weird, at least in my book....
Okay, I know we now live on the prairie, which has strange weather almost by definition, but it's getting even stranger these days.
We had thundersnow a few days before Christmas.
About a week ago we had a big thunderstorm, complete with severe weather warnings, blow through at night with temperatures around 34 degrees F.
And at 3 a.m. last night we had another big thunderstorm with an absolutely impressive display of lightning and thunder. The temperature was 21 degrees F. and the storm was accompanied by freezing rain and ice pellets/hail that coated the ground.
If we're having this many thunderstorms in the middle of winter, what is this spring going to be like?
We had thundersnow a few days before Christmas.
About a week ago we had a big thunderstorm, complete with severe weather warnings, blow through at night with temperatures around 34 degrees F.
And at 3 a.m. last night we had another big thunderstorm with an absolutely impressive display of lightning and thunder. The temperature was 21 degrees F. and the storm was accompanied by freezing rain and ice pellets/hail that coated the ground.
If we're having this many thunderstorms in the middle of winter, what is this spring going to be like?
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Favorite Books of 2007
The folks at Watermark Books published lists of their favorite books in 2007, which made me think that perhaps I ought to do the same. Since January 2008 is almost over, I guess I ought to do it now before it becomes too obsolete to be of interest.
I started keeping lists of the books I was reading about 4 or 5 years ago (in 2003). In 2007, I finished reading 47 books during the course of the year. Almost 1 per week, but far from the one-a-day that I think Prairiewolf suspects me of reading!
As I scan the list, I don't see very many books that I've read before. Only 4, and just 2 of those were mindless "comfort" books. Not bad, for a year's worth of reading.
Other categories, not including my rereads:
8 light, current fiction - mass market type
2 gardening books (cover to cover), about prairie gardening
3 other "reacquaint myself with Kansas" books
17 current fiction
4 memoir types, not including gardening/ranching/wildlife watching memoirs
4 memoir types with a gardening/ranching/wildlife watching focus
1 home remodeling book
1 book on world religions
1 book on ecology
2 self help/self education type books.
Here is a list of some of my favorites, in the order that I read them:
Painted Drum by Louise Erdrich: The idea that certain special objects somehow absorb vibrations from human spirit (esp. in a positive way), and that those objects can then influence other humans around them, intrigues me. And that's one of several interesting themes in this novel.
The World's Religions by Huston Smith: With clashes between various religious groups influencing global politics and even local mindsets, I found it educational to read this informative and positive guide to the various major world religions.
Prairie Erth by William Least Heat-Moon: One of the books I read to reacquaint myself with Kansas, this fascinating, in-depth examination of Chase County, Kansas, helps peel back the layers of culture, history, geology, biology, and so forth that have interacted to influence modern life in a central county of Kansas.
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen: Although the premise of the book (a young man joins the circus as a veterinarian during the Depression) didn't initially excite me, this tale was just plain engrossing. A good read.
Marley & Me by John Grogan: If you have a soft spot for dogs, especially if you've ever owned a less-than-perfect one that you loved dearly despite yourself, this is a "laugh out loud, shed a few tears" stunner of a good dog tale.
That Distant Land by Wendell Berry: A quiet look at connections between the people who populated a Kentucky community over the centuries, this series of stories manages to capture the sense of community that seems to be missing from so much of our modern life.
Buffalo for the Broken Heart by Dan O'Brien: Another book that combines the culture, history, geology and biology of a land, but in this case personalizing it through the telling of the author's struggles to live on his ranch in South Dakota.
Bringing Nature Home by Douglas W. Tallamy: A spot-on rationale for why it's important to use native plants in our landscapes, followed by an exceptionally interesting exploration of many of the different insects that can be found around our homes and yards.
Of course, I also have to admit to the guilty pleasure of loving to read Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series and J.D. Robb's .... in Death series, much as those are somewhat in the "junkfood for the mind" genre.
Last but not least, there were only 3 that I felt were a complete waste of my time. And I don't think that's too shabby for a year's worth of reading.
I started keeping lists of the books I was reading about 4 or 5 years ago (in 2003). In 2007, I finished reading 47 books during the course of the year. Almost 1 per week, but far from the one-a-day that I think Prairiewolf suspects me of reading!
As I scan the list, I don't see very many books that I've read before. Only 4, and just 2 of those were mindless "comfort" books. Not bad, for a year's worth of reading.
Other categories, not including my rereads:
8 light, current fiction - mass market type
2 gardening books (cover to cover), about prairie gardening
3 other "reacquaint myself with Kansas" books
17 current fiction
4 memoir types, not including gardening/ranching/wildlife watching memoirs
4 memoir types with a gardening/ranching/wildlife watching focus
1 home remodeling book
1 book on world religions
1 book on ecology
2 self help/self education type books.
Here is a list of some of my favorites, in the order that I read them:
Painted Drum by Louise Erdrich: The idea that certain special objects somehow absorb vibrations from human spirit (esp. in a positive way), and that those objects can then influence other humans around them, intrigues me. And that's one of several interesting themes in this novel.
The World's Religions by Huston Smith: With clashes between various religious groups influencing global politics and even local mindsets, I found it educational to read this informative and positive guide to the various major world religions.
Prairie Erth by William Least Heat-Moon: One of the books I read to reacquaint myself with Kansas, this fascinating, in-depth examination of Chase County, Kansas, helps peel back the layers of culture, history, geology, biology, and so forth that have interacted to influence modern life in a central county of Kansas.
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen: Although the premise of the book (a young man joins the circus as a veterinarian during the Depression) didn't initially excite me, this tale was just plain engrossing. A good read.
Marley & Me by John Grogan: If you have a soft spot for dogs, especially if you've ever owned a less-than-perfect one that you loved dearly despite yourself, this is a "laugh out loud, shed a few tears" stunner of a good dog tale.
That Distant Land by Wendell Berry: A quiet look at connections between the people who populated a Kentucky community over the centuries, this series of stories manages to capture the sense of community that seems to be missing from so much of our modern life.
Buffalo for the Broken Heart by Dan O'Brien: Another book that combines the culture, history, geology and biology of a land, but in this case personalizing it through the telling of the author's struggles to live on his ranch in South Dakota.
Bringing Nature Home by Douglas W. Tallamy: A spot-on rationale for why it's important to use native plants in our landscapes, followed by an exceptionally interesting exploration of many of the different insects that can be found around our homes and yards.
Of course, I also have to admit to the guilty pleasure of loving to read Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series and J.D. Robb's .... in Death series, much as those are somewhat in the "junkfood for the mind" genre.
Last but not least, there were only 3 that I felt were a complete waste of my time. And I don't think that's too shabby for a year's worth of reading.
Wait a Minute and It'll Change
Yep, I'm referring to Kansas weather. I got back from a week's trip to Mobile, Alabama, last Wednesday evening. The next morning the temperature was 8 degrees (F) on our breezeway. Yesterday it got up to 65. This morning it is 23, with an hour's worth of snow and winds up to 30 mph (gusts to 35).
Weather like this, with big swings in temperature and unrelenting wind, is one of the factors that makes living on the prairie so challenging for plants, animals and people alike. I'm sure thankful for a warm, modern house. Huddling around a fireplace with freezing cold air leaking in every crack, as the pioneers would have been doing, just doesn't sound appealing to me.
As I look out over the landscape this morning, it's a study in tan and gray brown and white and dusty olive drab. I think that's what struck me most about being back in Mobile - everything was so incredibly green. And the folks down there were lamenting about the hard freeze they'd had the prior week. Apparently if I'd gone a week earlier, there would still have been salvia and many other flowers in bloom. Oh, well, even the deep rich green of the live oaks, azaleas, yaupon and camellias was refreshing to my more northern eyes.
Oh, one last observation.... On Sunday, when the temperatures got into the low 60's, I saw both a wood roach and a honey bee out and about. Living, active insects. Somehow that seems amazing for January 27th.
Weather like this, with big swings in temperature and unrelenting wind, is one of the factors that makes living on the prairie so challenging for plants, animals and people alike. I'm sure thankful for a warm, modern house. Huddling around a fireplace with freezing cold air leaking in every crack, as the pioneers would have been doing, just doesn't sound appealing to me.
As I look out over the landscape this morning, it's a study in tan and gray brown and white and dusty olive drab. I think that's what struck me most about being back in Mobile - everything was so incredibly green. And the folks down there were lamenting about the hard freeze they'd had the prior week. Apparently if I'd gone a week earlier, there would still have been salvia and many other flowers in bloom. Oh, well, even the deep rich green of the live oaks, azaleas, yaupon and camellias was refreshing to my more northern eyes.
Oh, one last observation.... On Sunday, when the temperatures got into the low 60's, I saw both a wood roach and a honey bee out and about. Living, active insects. Somehow that seems amazing for January 27th.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Mid-Winter Mulching
Who says gardening has to stop during the winter? Prairiewolf and I took advantage of a relatively warm weekend (highs in the upper 50's to low 60's) to push away the winter blues by working outside.
First we took our Christmas tree in to the recycling point yesterday and picked up some of the free mulch available there. What an excellent program that is! They evidently take a portable chipper around to each of the drop-off points and chip the discarded trees into mulch right in place. The trees don't have to be transported anywhere, saving time and money, and the mulch is perfect to put in shrub beds or under trees. My only problem is a desire to be piggy and take several truckloads of mulch home. Heaven only knows we could sure use it around here!
Today we finally got back to shredding the leaves we picked up earlier this fall. Our month's worth of snow and ice put us way behind the power curve on that project, but today we got another 10 bags or so shredded, and we moved the rest of the bags to the compost area so that they're not "decorating" the front of the garage anymore. In doing this, we discovered another challenge that the last month's weather has created: some of the bags have collected moisture inside them, and the leaves in those bags are almost impossible to shred using our current chipper/shredder. It clogs up. I'm not sure what our solution to this dilemma is going to be yet.
The last part of today's outside work was spreading out some of the (unshredded) leaves whose bags had disintegrated. When I tried to use leaves as mulch last winter, they quickly blew away in the wind, so this time I covered them with a light layer of shredded cedar to try to anchor them in place. Hopefully my little experiment will be successful, because this will make using all our "shredded brown gold" much easier.
I feel good about the weekend's accomplishments: the forsythia by the garage are tucked in with a thick blanket of fresh green mulch, the area nearby smells marvelously of recycled Christmas trees, the front of the garage is once more free of big black plastic bags, our pile of shredded leaves has almost doubled in size, and one big area of bare ground is resting under a trial layer of leaves and cedar mulch.
I think it's time to settle in with a seed catalog or two or three....
First we took our Christmas tree in to the recycling point yesterday and picked up some of the free mulch available there. What an excellent program that is! They evidently take a portable chipper around to each of the drop-off points and chip the discarded trees into mulch right in place. The trees don't have to be transported anywhere, saving time and money, and the mulch is perfect to put in shrub beds or under trees. My only problem is a desire to be piggy and take several truckloads of mulch home. Heaven only knows we could sure use it around here!
Today we finally got back to shredding the leaves we picked up earlier this fall. Our month's worth of snow and ice put us way behind the power curve on that project, but today we got another 10 bags or so shredded, and we moved the rest of the bags to the compost area so that they're not "decorating" the front of the garage anymore. In doing this, we discovered another challenge that the last month's weather has created: some of the bags have collected moisture inside them, and the leaves in those bags are almost impossible to shred using our current chipper/shredder. It clogs up. I'm not sure what our solution to this dilemma is going to be yet.
The last part of today's outside work was spreading out some of the (unshredded) leaves whose bags had disintegrated. When I tried to use leaves as mulch last winter, they quickly blew away in the wind, so this time I covered them with a light layer of shredded cedar to try to anchor them in place. Hopefully my little experiment will be successful, because this will make using all our "shredded brown gold" much easier.
I feel good about the weekend's accomplishments: the forsythia by the garage are tucked in with a thick blanket of fresh green mulch, the area nearby smells marvelously of recycled Christmas trees, the front of the garage is once more free of big black plastic bags, our pile of shredded leaves has almost doubled in size, and one big area of bare ground is resting under a trial layer of leaves and cedar mulch.
I think it's time to settle in with a seed catalog or two or three....
Black-Footed Ferrets in Kansas Again
Back in September, I ranted with frustration over attempts to control prairie dog populations in Logan County, Kansas, through a county-government-initiated chemical poisoning campaign (http://gaiagarden.blogspot.com/2007/09/did-i-miss-timewarp-to-1904.html).
On Christmas Eve, I read a follow-up to that story which made me feel much better. The landowners involved, who were already working with the federal government on a plan to re-introduce endangered black-footed ferrets to their land, were able to get a restraining order to stop the county government from doing any further poisoning.
Then on December 18th, 24 black-footed ferrets were actually released on the property involved. Hopefully it will be the start of a healthy rebalancing of the prairie ecosystem in that area, since black-footed ferrets are a primary predator of prairie dogs.
There are still lots of hurdles to get over. For example, they picked mid-December for the release date to allow the black-footed ferrets a chance to establish breeding territories before the spring mating season occurs. However, the winter months on the prairie are a strenuous time of year for any animal, and mortality may be quite high. (In fact, our last big snowstorm came roaring through just 4 days after the ferrets were released.)
Even if most of the released ferrets survive, it will be years before their numbers build up to the point where they truly keep the prairie dog populations in balance. On the other hand, there are other predators like coyotes and rattlesnakes who will be happy to help the ferrets control the prairie dogs, so all the work of rebalancing the prairie won't be left entirely to them.
I'm choosing to be optimistic about the success of the ferrets' reintroduction, because I have to believe that we can learn to work more effectively with natural processes, rather than always working against them. This is an exciting step in that direction.
Now it's up to the ferrets themselves. I must admit I'm feeling some anxious anticipation, wondering how they're doing. Unfortunately, this is one of those times when all the watchful worry in the world won't affect the outcome, whether for good or for bad. It's too bad my worrying can't help, though, because it's something I'm really good at doing!
On Christmas Eve, I read a follow-up to that story which made me feel much better. The landowners involved, who were already working with the federal government on a plan to re-introduce endangered black-footed ferrets to their land, were able to get a restraining order to stop the county government from doing any further poisoning.
Then on December 18th, 24 black-footed ferrets were actually released on the property involved. Hopefully it will be the start of a healthy rebalancing of the prairie ecosystem in that area, since black-footed ferrets are a primary predator of prairie dogs.
There are still lots of hurdles to get over. For example, they picked mid-December for the release date to allow the black-footed ferrets a chance to establish breeding territories before the spring mating season occurs. However, the winter months on the prairie are a strenuous time of year for any animal, and mortality may be quite high. (In fact, our last big snowstorm came roaring through just 4 days after the ferrets were released.)
Even if most of the released ferrets survive, it will be years before their numbers build up to the point where they truly keep the prairie dog populations in balance. On the other hand, there are other predators like coyotes and rattlesnakes who will be happy to help the ferrets control the prairie dogs, so all the work of rebalancing the prairie won't be left entirely to them.
I'm choosing to be optimistic about the success of the ferrets' reintroduction, because I have to believe that we can learn to work more effectively with natural processes, rather than always working against them. This is an exciting step in that direction.
Now it's up to the ferrets themselves. I must admit I'm feeling some anxious anticipation, wondering how they're doing. Unfortunately, this is one of those times when all the watchful worry in the world won't affect the outcome, whether for good or for bad. It's too bad my worrying can't help, though, because it's something I'm really good at doing!
Monday, December 31, 2007
'Though the Weather Outside Was Frightful,...
Wow. What a way to wrap up 2007.
Since my last post, life has been a whirlwind of activity, both wonderful and strange.
My mother treated me to a true English tea at Aunt Hattie's Tea Room on W. Douglas during the week before Christmas. Relaxing, delicious - a real treat! Strawberry soup, fresh cherry almond scones with lemon curd and Devonshire cream, cucumber sandwiches, a pot of hot tea for each...and that's just the beginning of the list of delectable goodies they put before us. I have to admit that we basically licked our plates clean.
The next day my kitchen was unexpectedly taken over by our good friends Flip and Shelley from Chicago. It was great fun to relax and watch somebody else work there. As usual, they coaxed fantastic food from my mundane equipment as we laughed, talked and drank our way through the day. I rather think my kitchen celebrates being used as it should be used each time they come to visit!
The object of their culinary take-over was the production of several decadent desserts to contribute to the annual Christmas extravaganza held by another of their long-time Wichita friends. We were graciously invited to the party as well, and that night Prairiewolf and I enjoyed a rich feast of food, beautiful holiday decorations, stimulating fellow guests, and the crowning enjoyment of excellent young Irish dancers accompanied by a live Celtic ensemble as they put on a poolside performance that won't be soon forgotten. It was truly a memorable evening.
With a snowstorm predicted for the next day, our son Qkslvrwlf decided to travel home a few hours early, and came in from St. Louis later that same night. As always, it was wonderful to have him with us again, although I wish he could have joined us for the Celtic music and dancing earlier. I know he would have enjoyed it tremendously.
Boy, the next morning we were so glad that Qkslvrwlf had traveled early when the sky opened up and the snow came in blinding, wind-driven veils of white. I think that storm was the closest I've ever seen to the white-out prairie blizzards that I've read so much about. You know, the storms where the settlers had to rig a line from the house to the barn, or they'd get lost as they tried to do their chores and end up wandering about until they froze to death.
Accompanying the heavy snow was thunder and lightning - thunder snow. Truly awesome.
Flip and Shelley joined us again that afternoon, despite the snowstorm (I believe Flip's words were, "I HATE Kansas weather!" as he walked in), and we continued our previous day's agenda of laughing, talking, drinking and eating, now further enlivened by the presence of Prairiewolf and Qkslvrwolf and by the addition of a few games to the mix. The only thing marring our afternoon - and it was a biggie - was concern about our daughter, Genie02, who was travelling up from San Antonio that day. She began hitting the snow around Oklahoma City, but luckily she's a good driver and the worst of the storm had blown itself out by the time she got near. So she got here safely and was able to join us about 7 o'clock, in time for a superb dinner of champagne chicken, smashed potatoes, Thai green beans, and chocolate chip cookies, cooked up by Chefs Flip, Shelley and Qkslvrwlf.
Flip and Shelley had to leave early the next morning to head back to Chicago for Christmas with their family, so Prairiewolf helped push them out of the driveway through the snow and got them safely on their way. Then the 4 of us, Prairiewolf, Genie02, Qkslvrwlf, and myself, settled in to enjoy the rest of one of the best Christmas times that I can remember. We put the tree up, finished buying and wrapping presents, had both sets of grandparents over to help us celebrate, enjoyed a Christmas Day meal that featured a wild turkey which Prairiewolf had shot last spring, experienced more unique weather in the form of snow mist, brewed some beer, and just generally enjoyed being together as a family for those few brief days.
My family and friends truly enfolded me and made this Christmas especially warm and full of love.
Both kids have had to leave by now. It was hard to see them go, but they are safely home and once more immersed in their own lives. I treasure the times we get together all the more for their brevity. Their love and support warms me even from far away.
Looking back on it, Christmas this year was memorable for family and friends, thunder snow and snow mist, Celtic music and dancing, delicious food, and much laughter and happiness. It's the gift of a feeling of celebration and love and joy that I wish I could somehow share with all the people on Earth. We could all use more of it in our lives.
Since my last post, life has been a whirlwind of activity, both wonderful and strange.
My mother treated me to a true English tea at Aunt Hattie's Tea Room on W. Douglas during the week before Christmas. Relaxing, delicious - a real treat! Strawberry soup, fresh cherry almond scones with lemon curd and Devonshire cream, cucumber sandwiches, a pot of hot tea for each...and that's just the beginning of the list of delectable goodies they put before us. I have to admit that we basically licked our plates clean.
The next day my kitchen was unexpectedly taken over by our good friends Flip and Shelley from Chicago. It was great fun to relax and watch somebody else work there. As usual, they coaxed fantastic food from my mundane equipment as we laughed, talked and drank our way through the day. I rather think my kitchen celebrates being used as it should be used each time they come to visit!
The object of their culinary take-over was the production of several decadent desserts to contribute to the annual Christmas extravaganza held by another of their long-time Wichita friends. We were graciously invited to the party as well, and that night Prairiewolf and I enjoyed a rich feast of food, beautiful holiday decorations, stimulating fellow guests, and the crowning enjoyment of excellent young Irish dancers accompanied by a live Celtic ensemble as they put on a poolside performance that won't be soon forgotten. It was truly a memorable evening.
With a snowstorm predicted for the next day, our son Qkslvrwlf decided to travel home a few hours early, and came in from St. Louis later that same night. As always, it was wonderful to have him with us again, although I wish he could have joined us for the Celtic music and dancing earlier. I know he would have enjoyed it tremendously.
Boy, the next morning we were so glad that Qkslvrwlf had traveled early when the sky opened up and the snow came in blinding, wind-driven veils of white. I think that storm was the closest I've ever seen to the white-out prairie blizzards that I've read so much about. You know, the storms where the settlers had to rig a line from the house to the barn, or they'd get lost as they tried to do their chores and end up wandering about until they froze to death.
Accompanying the heavy snow was thunder and lightning - thunder snow. Truly awesome.
Flip and Shelley joined us again that afternoon, despite the snowstorm (I believe Flip's words were, "I HATE Kansas weather!" as he walked in), and we continued our previous day's agenda of laughing, talking, drinking and eating, now further enlivened by the presence of Prairiewolf and Qkslvrwolf and by the addition of a few games to the mix. The only thing marring our afternoon - and it was a biggie - was concern about our daughter, Genie02, who was travelling up from San Antonio that day. She began hitting the snow around Oklahoma City, but luckily she's a good driver and the worst of the storm had blown itself out by the time she got near. So she got here safely and was able to join us about 7 o'clock, in time for a superb dinner of champagne chicken, smashed potatoes, Thai green beans, and chocolate chip cookies, cooked up by Chefs Flip, Shelley and Qkslvrwlf.
Flip and Shelley had to leave early the next morning to head back to Chicago for Christmas with their family, so Prairiewolf helped push them out of the driveway through the snow and got them safely on their way. Then the 4 of us, Prairiewolf, Genie02, Qkslvrwlf, and myself, settled in to enjoy the rest of one of the best Christmas times that I can remember. We put the tree up, finished buying and wrapping presents, had both sets of grandparents over to help us celebrate, enjoyed a Christmas Day meal that featured a wild turkey which Prairiewolf had shot last spring, experienced more unique weather in the form of snow mist, brewed some beer, and just generally enjoyed being together as a family for those few brief days.
My family and friends truly enfolded me and made this Christmas especially warm and full of love.
Both kids have had to leave by now. It was hard to see them go, but they are safely home and once more immersed in their own lives. I treasure the times we get together all the more for their brevity. Their love and support warms me even from far away.
Looking back on it, Christmas this year was memorable for family and friends, thunder snow and snow mist, Celtic music and dancing, delicious food, and much laughter and happiness. It's the gift of a feeling of celebration and love and joy that I wish I could somehow share with all the people on Earth. We could all use more of it in our lives.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Native Plants Do It Better
It's rare that a new (to me) ecological concept related to gardening and wildlife hits me upside the head, but I treasure it when it does. Reading Douglas W. Tallamy's new book, Bringing Nature Home, brought me just such a moment.
For years I have believed that gardening with natives was important, but I have allowed myself to become less single-minded about that belief, especially in recent years. I couldn't answer people's questions about why, for example, a native berry-producing shrub was better than an exotic berry-producing shrub if the birds liked to eat both types of berries equally. Instinctively I felt the native was better, but I couldn't produce the underlying logic to share with others.
Tallamy nails my missing logic in this book.
Every time a plant is described as "pest free", the nurseryman is saying that leaf-eating insects (and often other herbivores) won't eat it, usually because they truly can't eat it due to its chemical makeup. This means that the particular plant in question - almost always an exotic introduced from another country or from a different area of this country - is taking space, using nutrients from the soil, capturing sunlight...and adding little or nothing to the local food chains. In essence, it is a sterile placeholder, taking the place of other, native plants that can and do support diverse, healthy populations of native animals. Because the exotic plant is not getting eaten or controlled in any way, it can easily outcompete the locally palatable native vegetation, so when the exotic escapes into the wild, there is nothing holding back its takeover of local habitats and sterilizing them.
So right now I can practically hear the question going through your head, "Why would I possibly WANT insects to eat my plants? Won't that kill them?"
The simple answer is, "No, it won't kill them. Native plants evolved along with native herbivores so that both balance each other. Then, too, having native predators feeding on the native herbivores further keeps that balance in place."
Insects are one of the primary ways that the energy captured by plants gets moved up the food chain. They are the primary herbivores of many, probably most, plants; then they become the food for primary predators, from other insects to amphibians to birds.
If you love to attract birds to your yard, it's important to know that the energy and nutrients for bird reproduction are almost entirely based upon insect food. Berries in the fall won't do birds any good if there haven't been any birds produced earlier in the year because there were no insects available to provide the food and energy for eggs and young.
I can hear another question, "Japanese beetles are eating my roses to stubs. How can you say that insects won't kill my plants?"
Japanese beetles aren't native insects, and they are not acting "naturally" for our native ecosystems. Many major pest outbreaks are actually caused by alien insects or diseases introduced accidentally into our country. Like the alien plants they often come in on, these alien pests have no natural enemies and ravage unchecked throughout the countryside. Chestnut blight, Dutch elm disease and now sudden oak wilt are all examples of alien disease organisms; (Asian) azalea lace bug, soybean aphid and Japanese beetles are examples of devastating alien insects.
I've just hit the highlights of Tallamy's book here. He describes the concepts in much greater depth than I have here, plus he provides lots of interesting examples. He has also included a wonderful section about the different types of insects, including some fascinating and fun insect life histories. If you love to garden, especially if you love to attract wildlife to your yard, I highly recommend that you read this book.
For years I have believed that gardening with natives was important, but I have allowed myself to become less single-minded about that belief, especially in recent years. I couldn't answer people's questions about why, for example, a native berry-producing shrub was better than an exotic berry-producing shrub if the birds liked to eat both types of berries equally. Instinctively I felt the native was better, but I couldn't produce the underlying logic to share with others.
Tallamy nails my missing logic in this book.
Every time a plant is described as "pest free", the nurseryman is saying that leaf-eating insects (and often other herbivores) won't eat it, usually because they truly can't eat it due to its chemical makeup. This means that the particular plant in question - almost always an exotic introduced from another country or from a different area of this country - is taking space, using nutrients from the soil, capturing sunlight...and adding little or nothing to the local food chains. In essence, it is a sterile placeholder, taking the place of other, native plants that can and do support diverse, healthy populations of native animals. Because the exotic plant is not getting eaten or controlled in any way, it can easily outcompete the locally palatable native vegetation, so when the exotic escapes into the wild, there is nothing holding back its takeover of local habitats and sterilizing them.
So right now I can practically hear the question going through your head, "Why would I possibly WANT insects to eat my plants? Won't that kill them?"
The simple answer is, "No, it won't kill them. Native plants evolved along with native herbivores so that both balance each other. Then, too, having native predators feeding on the native herbivores further keeps that balance in place."
Insects are one of the primary ways that the energy captured by plants gets moved up the food chain. They are the primary herbivores of many, probably most, plants; then they become the food for primary predators, from other insects to amphibians to birds.
If you love to attract birds to your yard, it's important to know that the energy and nutrients for bird reproduction are almost entirely based upon insect food. Berries in the fall won't do birds any good if there haven't been any birds produced earlier in the year because there were no insects available to provide the food and energy for eggs and young.
I can hear another question, "Japanese beetles are eating my roses to stubs. How can you say that insects won't kill my plants?"
Japanese beetles aren't native insects, and they are not acting "naturally" for our native ecosystems. Many major pest outbreaks are actually caused by alien insects or diseases introduced accidentally into our country. Like the alien plants they often come in on, these alien pests have no natural enemies and ravage unchecked throughout the countryside. Chestnut blight, Dutch elm disease and now sudden oak wilt are all examples of alien disease organisms; (Asian) azalea lace bug, soybean aphid and Japanese beetles are examples of devastating alien insects.
I've just hit the highlights of Tallamy's book here. He describes the concepts in much greater depth than I have here, plus he provides lots of interesting examples. He has also included a wonderful section about the different types of insects, including some fascinating and fun insect life histories. If you love to garden, especially if you love to attract wildlife to your yard, I highly recommend that you read this book.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Luck Comes in All Forms
We - all of us in the Wichita area - got really lucky over the last few days, especially yesterday. According to my rain gauge, we received over 5" of rain. We started yesterday with about 1/4-1/2" of ice on the trees and wires, but at our house the temperature hung at 32.1 to 32.9 degrees Fahrenheit all day. It wasn't warm, but it was just enough to keep all that rain from freezing as it hit. It was even warm enough to slowly melt much of the ice left from overnight.
Folks to the north of us and the south of us weren't that lucky. Oklahoma got hammered a couple days ago; north-central Kansas got it yesterday. I talked with a friend who lives in Holton, north of Topeka, and the entire town was coated in over an inch of ice, leading to massive power outages and major tree damage and loss. The face of the town will be changed for years.
Ice is such a good example of something incredibly beautiful that is also incredibly destructive. Wichita's turn came 3 years ago...and it will come again. Meanwhile I'm thankful for the luck that came our way, and mourning for the losses of those who were less lucky this time than we were.
Folks to the north of us and the south of us weren't that lucky. Oklahoma got hammered a couple days ago; north-central Kansas got it yesterday. I talked with a friend who lives in Holton, north of Topeka, and the entire town was coated in over an inch of ice, leading to massive power outages and major tree damage and loss. The face of the town will be changed for years.
Ice is such a good example of something incredibly beautiful that is also incredibly destructive. Wichita's turn came 3 years ago...and it will come again. Meanwhile I'm thankful for the luck that came our way, and mourning for the losses of those who were less lucky this time than we were.
Subtle Editing on Global Warming
We've lived in places - Topeka and Mobile - with strongly right-wing newspapers (supposed "left wing liberal bias in the media" not withstanding). The Wichita Eagle seems generally more balanced to me, but I notice that they do have a way of subtly influencing the news that I don't agree with.
Today's paper is a case in point. On the front page we have 4 local stories and 1 state story. Except for the story on the ice storm (which deserves front page coverage), all of the other stories are about on-going issues, any of which would have been sufficiently covered on page 4 or 5, and all of which will be forgotten in a year or two or three.
Buried on page 6A is a story about an issue that is probably signalling a major change in our world, about a warning bell of global significance. "Scientists Shocked by Arctic Ice Melt" is about the newly released report on the massive melting of the Arctic ice mass seen this summer. This melting is occurring much faster than even the most pessimistic computer model climate prediction. At the current rate, the Arctic may be ice-free at the end of summer by 2012. That's less than 5 years away.
This is a massive change.
Another fact from this article that startled me was that, according to NASA satellite data, the volume of Arctic sea ice at the end of this last summer was just half of what it was 4 years ago. Fifty percent (50%) of the Arctic ice volume gone in just 4 years.
So why doesn't this news deserve front page coverage? These are huge changes that signal a need to act decisively and rapidly before the process of global warming becomes irreversible. I think I found a piece of the answer in a couple articles I read recently. These articles talked about how the Coast Guard was going to start patrolling the Arctic as it was opened up for new shipping channels. The new shipping channels would shorten transport distances between certain cities - the Northwest Passage coming true at last.
Why worry about global warming if it's offering a profit opportunity?
"The love of money is the root of all evil." It's long past time for all the world's citizens, and for the American electorate in particular, to look at the proponents of each side in the global warming "debate" and determine who has the most personal profit to make from their stance. I can pretty well guarantee it isn't the scientific community.
Then it's time for those same citizens to take action to change our current course. The people making obscene profits from the status quo CANNOT be trusted to see the changes that need to be made and lead the rest of us to make them. Only the average informed citizen can remove these profit-mongers from leadership and chose leaders more qualified to lead us intelligently and carefully into the future. Let's do it.
Today's paper is a case in point. On the front page we have 4 local stories and 1 state story. Except for the story on the ice storm (which deserves front page coverage), all of the other stories are about on-going issues, any of which would have been sufficiently covered on page 4 or 5, and all of which will be forgotten in a year or two or three.
Buried on page 6A is a story about an issue that is probably signalling a major change in our world, about a warning bell of global significance. "Scientists Shocked by Arctic Ice Melt" is about the newly released report on the massive melting of the Arctic ice mass seen this summer. This melting is occurring much faster than even the most pessimistic computer model climate prediction. At the current rate, the Arctic may be ice-free at the end of summer by 2012. That's less than 5 years away.
This is a massive change.
Another fact from this article that startled me was that, according to NASA satellite data, the volume of Arctic sea ice at the end of this last summer was just half of what it was 4 years ago. Fifty percent (50%) of the Arctic ice volume gone in just 4 years.
So why doesn't this news deserve front page coverage? These are huge changes that signal a need to act decisively and rapidly before the process of global warming becomes irreversible. I think I found a piece of the answer in a couple articles I read recently. These articles talked about how the Coast Guard was going to start patrolling the Arctic as it was opened up for new shipping channels. The new shipping channels would shorten transport distances between certain cities - the Northwest Passage coming true at last.
Why worry about global warming if it's offering a profit opportunity?
"The love of money is the root of all evil." It's long past time for all the world's citizens, and for the American electorate in particular, to look at the proponents of each side in the global warming "debate" and determine who has the most personal profit to make from their stance. I can pretty well guarantee it isn't the scientific community.
Then it's time for those same citizens to take action to change our current course. The people making obscene profits from the status quo CANNOT be trusted to see the changes that need to be made and lead the rest of us to make them. Only the average informed citizen can remove these profit-mongers from leadership and chose leaders more qualified to lead us intelligently and carefully into the future. Let's do it.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
My Favorite Part of the Season
My favorite part of the Christmas season began today - I dug out the Christmas cards and started working on them. Serendipitously, I received our first Christmas card for the year too.
I know that a lot of people dislike the time, effort and cost of writing Christmas cards, but for someone like me, who has moved around a lot throughout my life, it's a wonderful way to keep connected with friends from long ago. Our lives may have separated us years before, but I still love to hear what they and their families are doing.
It's wonderful how some people remain close friends, no matter how long it's been since you saw them last. When you are lucky enough to meet with them again, you often feel like you were never apart.
For the longest time I tried to write personal letters to everybody, but I finally gave up a few years ago. I'd get a few letters written, then get overwhelmed by other holiday activities and end up inadvertently pruning my Christmas card list. Prairiewolf now helps me. He writes a great Christmas letter, which I then print off. I try to add brief personal notes, then I address and mail them. Our success rate at getting out all of our intended cards has increased significantly since making this initially unwelcome compromise.
But even joint cooperation doesn't help when a major move coincides with the Christmas season.
With our move occurring at the end of December last year, I don't remember being organized enough to send out any cards...and I'm afraid that if I don't touch bases with a few of my usual card-buddies this year, they too may move and we'll lose touch completely.
What a loss that would be. There's my best friend from junior high in Panama. We've been in touch for almost 40 years now. (Yikes! Has it actually been that long?!) Then there's my college roommate (in touch over 30 years now). There are friends from our early married years, and from many of the places that we've lived. Now I'll be adding many friends from Mobile.
It's the most wonderful time of the year.
I know that a lot of people dislike the time, effort and cost of writing Christmas cards, but for someone like me, who has moved around a lot throughout my life, it's a wonderful way to keep connected with friends from long ago. Our lives may have separated us years before, but I still love to hear what they and their families are doing.
It's wonderful how some people remain close friends, no matter how long it's been since you saw them last. When you are lucky enough to meet with them again, you often feel like you were never apart.
For the longest time I tried to write personal letters to everybody, but I finally gave up a few years ago. I'd get a few letters written, then get overwhelmed by other holiday activities and end up inadvertently pruning my Christmas card list. Prairiewolf now helps me. He writes a great Christmas letter, which I then print off. I try to add brief personal notes, then I address and mail them. Our success rate at getting out all of our intended cards has increased significantly since making this initially unwelcome compromise.
But even joint cooperation doesn't help when a major move coincides with the Christmas season.
With our move occurring at the end of December last year, I don't remember being organized enough to send out any cards...and I'm afraid that if I don't touch bases with a few of my usual card-buddies this year, they too may move and we'll lose touch completely.
What a loss that would be. There's my best friend from junior high in Panama. We've been in touch for almost 40 years now. (Yikes! Has it actually been that long?!) Then there's my college roommate (in touch over 30 years now). There are friends from our early married years, and from many of the places that we've lived. Now I'll be adding many friends from Mobile.
It's the most wonderful time of the year.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Buffalo for the Broken Heart
I recently finished reading a fascinating book, Buffalo for the Broken Heart, by Dan O'Brien.
It was a random pick-up at the local bookstore. Something in the title caught my eye, then the jacket blurb made me look more closely. By the time I'd skimmed several pages, it went into my (admittedly oversized) "to buy" pile and made it safely home. Something about its promise made me pick it up soon thereafter; once I picked it up, I was hooked.
Buffalo is a quiet book. It's part personal memoir, part natural history, part cultural history, all interwoven into a well paced story that captured my heart and imagination. It's the tale of a relationship between a man and his South Dakota ranch, the Broken Heart. There's love and heartbreak, comraderie and loneliness in this book, along with beauty and unimaginably necessary daily gambles.
Having moved back to the prairie after several years in the longleaf pine forests of the deep south, I'm finding myself fascinated by the differences between the 2 places. I expected and was moderately prepared for the difference in vegetation and climate, but the differences in mindsets and cultural assumptions is surprising me. I find myself appreciating how the local history of a place infuses its people with a sense of identity that I'd never really noticed before, even people who move into an area rather than having been raised in it.
In Mobile, the people seemed to have a baseline identify still founded upon the old Deep South cultural identity of plantations, cotton growing, and the almost aristocratic society that it created. Entertaining was an everyday, gracious artform there, and the homes tended to be classic and richly decorated.
Here, the people seem to have a baseline identify still founded upon the "wild west", with its necessary independence of spirit and underlying rebellion. There's a mistrust of anything too "fancy", and a sense that cattle and farming are both intrinsically good and tragically fated to break people's spirit.
In Buffalo for the Broken Heart, O'Brien recounts how he (and countless other Great Plains ranchers) try to wrest a living from the prairie by raising cattle. As he describes it, it's basically a no-win situation, based on a disconnect between cattle and the prairie environment compounded by a disconnect between natural forces and the market economy. After almost losing his ranch (saving it only by taking a job elsewhere and sending money back, while a neighbor looked after it), O'Brien hesitantly decides to try running bison instead of cattle. It's an incredible gamble and an almost unbelievable amount of hard work, but he makes the commitment and describes both the joys and the fears of the process.
Our little 10 acres will never support a bison, but bison lived here 150 years ago and helped shape this land. There's even a depression behind the draw that I suspect may be the remnants of an old buffalo wallow. The descriptions of O'Brien's prairie lands, of how the cattle fought them and how the bison reveled in them, were evocative and haunting. I can picture bison on our land now in a way that I wasn't able to before reading this book.
I know where the past of this land has been. I wonder where its future lies.
It was a random pick-up at the local bookstore. Something in the title caught my eye, then the jacket blurb made me look more closely. By the time I'd skimmed several pages, it went into my (admittedly oversized) "to buy" pile and made it safely home. Something about its promise made me pick it up soon thereafter; once I picked it up, I was hooked.
Buffalo is a quiet book. It's part personal memoir, part natural history, part cultural history, all interwoven into a well paced story that captured my heart and imagination. It's the tale of a relationship between a man and his South Dakota ranch, the Broken Heart. There's love and heartbreak, comraderie and loneliness in this book, along with beauty and unimaginably necessary daily gambles.
Having moved back to the prairie after several years in the longleaf pine forests of the deep south, I'm finding myself fascinated by the differences between the 2 places. I expected and was moderately prepared for the difference in vegetation and climate, but the differences in mindsets and cultural assumptions is surprising me. I find myself appreciating how the local history of a place infuses its people with a sense of identity that I'd never really noticed before, even people who move into an area rather than having been raised in it.
In Mobile, the people seemed to have a baseline identify still founded upon the old Deep South cultural identity of plantations, cotton growing, and the almost aristocratic society that it created. Entertaining was an everyday, gracious artform there, and the homes tended to be classic and richly decorated.
Here, the people seem to have a baseline identify still founded upon the "wild west", with its necessary independence of spirit and underlying rebellion. There's a mistrust of anything too "fancy", and a sense that cattle and farming are both intrinsically good and tragically fated to break people's spirit.
In Buffalo for the Broken Heart, O'Brien recounts how he (and countless other Great Plains ranchers) try to wrest a living from the prairie by raising cattle. As he describes it, it's basically a no-win situation, based on a disconnect between cattle and the prairie environment compounded by a disconnect between natural forces and the market economy. After almost losing his ranch (saving it only by taking a job elsewhere and sending money back, while a neighbor looked after it), O'Brien hesitantly decides to try running bison instead of cattle. It's an incredible gamble and an almost unbelievable amount of hard work, but he makes the commitment and describes both the joys and the fears of the process.
Our little 10 acres will never support a bison, but bison lived here 150 years ago and helped shape this land. There's even a depression behind the draw that I suspect may be the remnants of an old buffalo wallow. The descriptions of O'Brien's prairie lands, of how the cattle fought them and how the bison reveled in them, were evocative and haunting. I can picture bison on our land now in a way that I wasn't able to before reading this book.
I know where the past of this land has been. I wonder where its future lies.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Thanksgiving Weather
The kids left just a few hours ago, and I'm slowly working on finishing up the dishes and the other clean-up left from a wonderful 4 day hiatus with them. It's truly been a vacation getaway in the comfort of our own home! I will miss them tremendously, but I'm so glad that we had the long weekend together. It was wonderful.
I have an observational question, though. Why does the weather always seem to get bad over Thanksgiving week? Was the 4th Thursday of November selected for Thanksgiving because it always seems to signal the beginning of true winter weather?
Our first hard freeze was the day before Thanksgiving, and our first snow on Friday night. Saturday morning we woke up to a very winterish-looking landscape. It's been below freezing for every night since last Tuesday, and we barely got above freezing during the day
I guess winter is officially here. At least the snow was light and didn't come on the 2 heaviest travel days. Both kids travelled safely and are back to their respective homes now. Ready for Christmas, anyone?
I have an observational question, though. Why does the weather always seem to get bad over Thanksgiving week? Was the 4th Thursday of November selected for Thanksgiving because it always seems to signal the beginning of true winter weather?
Our first hard freeze was the day before Thanksgiving, and our first snow on Friday night. Saturday morning we woke up to a very winterish-looking landscape. It's been below freezing for every night since last Tuesday, and we barely got above freezing during the day
I guess winter is officially here. At least the snow was light and didn't come on the 2 heaviest travel days. Both kids travelled safely and are back to their respective homes now. Ready for Christmas, anyone?
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Night Life
For some time now I've noticed unusual droppings each morning in the 2 platform birdfeeders out back. The droppings are cylindrical, with rounded ends, about 3/8 - 1/2" in diameter and 1/2 - 3/4" long, and made up entirely of the remnants of sunflower seed shells. I wasn't sure what had made them, although I had a sneaking suspicion it was a possum.
Then again, Becker, our German Shepherd, has been sprayed by a skunk twice in the last several months, so that was a possibility too. I didn't have a clue what skunk scat looked like.
So last night I rounded up a strong flashlight and decided to check out the feeders if I woke up at all.
I checked right before we went to bed, but all was quiet. We turned off the downstairs lights and moved up to the bedroom.
It was a pleasant night, so I left our bedroom window open. As I lay in bed reading, relaxing for sleep, I thought I heard a scrabbling noise, so I got up and shone the flashlight out back. Big and beautiful and bold, crisply marked fur lushly covering its body and luxuriantly flopping down from its tail over its back, there was a skunk rooting about in the grass between one platform feeder and the birdbath. I watched for a while, calling Prairiewolf to watch with me. The skunk didn't seem to notice the spotlight on its performance at all.
Prairiewolf went off to sleep while I, much too alert now to sleep, continued to read. Right before I turned the light off, I got up to check again. This time the skunk was gone, but there were 2 smallish possums on the back platform feeder. They immediately turned towards the light, and their eyes glowed strangely, but they didn't seem upset.
Thinking my mystery was now totally solved, and feeling vindicated in my orignial diagnosis about the droppings, I went on to sleep.
Sometime after 2 a.m., I woke up with my all-too-frequent, middle-of-the-night insomnia. Deciding to turn it to good use, I checked the backyard again. This time there was a single, very large possum on the back platform feeder. No skunk. No smaller possums.
Intrigued even more now, I checked again about 3:30 a.m. (still awake, unfortunately). The big possum was still on the back feeder, the skunk was drinking water from the birdbath, and one of the little possums was busily eating...what I finally realized was suet from the suet feeder, which he'd evidently knocked down out of the tree. (So that's why I occasionally find it on the ground and empty!)
My most recent check was at 4:45 a.m. This time the backyard was back down to one animal, the big possum on the closer platform feeder.
I am rather amazed at the amount of nighttime activity occurring in my backyard. A little appalled, too, to be honest. The possums don't bother me too much, other than the amount of bird seed and suet they are going through, but the skunk is getting to be a real issue, with Becker's seeming inability to learn how to leave it alone. And I sure don't want to surprise the skunk ourselves, when we go out to take care of the dogs or need to run out to the workshop after dark. Been there, done that, got the (remnants of) the teeshirt.
There's the rabies issue too.
On the other hand, the web research I did talked about how beneficial skunks could be: they eat (and therefore help control) rodents, snakes, insects and spiders, including black widows, for example. My instinct to get rid of the skunk is being tempered a little bit by understanding where the skunk fits into the workings of the local ecosystem. Emphasis on "a little bit."
It's 5:20 a.m. now. I've heard the first birds call, briefly, outside. I just checked and the backyard is empty. Time for another day to begin. I won't be watching the feeders and the birdbath with the same eyes today, however.
Then again, Becker, our German Shepherd, has been sprayed by a skunk twice in the last several months, so that was a possibility too. I didn't have a clue what skunk scat looked like.
So last night I rounded up a strong flashlight and decided to check out the feeders if I woke up at all.
I checked right before we went to bed, but all was quiet. We turned off the downstairs lights and moved up to the bedroom.
It was a pleasant night, so I left our bedroom window open. As I lay in bed reading, relaxing for sleep, I thought I heard a scrabbling noise, so I got up and shone the flashlight out back. Big and beautiful and bold, crisply marked fur lushly covering its body and luxuriantly flopping down from its tail over its back, there was a skunk rooting about in the grass between one platform feeder and the birdbath. I watched for a while, calling Prairiewolf to watch with me. The skunk didn't seem to notice the spotlight on its performance at all.
Prairiewolf went off to sleep while I, much too alert now to sleep, continued to read. Right before I turned the light off, I got up to check again. This time the skunk was gone, but there were 2 smallish possums on the back platform feeder. They immediately turned towards the light, and their eyes glowed strangely, but they didn't seem upset.
Thinking my mystery was now totally solved, and feeling vindicated in my orignial diagnosis about the droppings, I went on to sleep.
Sometime after 2 a.m., I woke up with my all-too-frequent, middle-of-the-night insomnia. Deciding to turn it to good use, I checked the backyard again. This time there was a single, very large possum on the back platform feeder. No skunk. No smaller possums.
Intrigued even more now, I checked again about 3:30 a.m. (still awake, unfortunately). The big possum was still on the back feeder, the skunk was drinking water from the birdbath, and one of the little possums was busily eating...what I finally realized was suet from the suet feeder, which he'd evidently knocked down out of the tree. (So that's why I occasionally find it on the ground and empty!)
My most recent check was at 4:45 a.m. This time the backyard was back down to one animal, the big possum on the closer platform feeder.
I am rather amazed at the amount of nighttime activity occurring in my backyard. A little appalled, too, to be honest. The possums don't bother me too much, other than the amount of bird seed and suet they are going through, but the skunk is getting to be a real issue, with Becker's seeming inability to learn how to leave it alone. And I sure don't want to surprise the skunk ourselves, when we go out to take care of the dogs or need to run out to the workshop after dark. Been there, done that, got the (remnants of) the teeshirt.
There's the rabies issue too.
On the other hand, the web research I did talked about how beneficial skunks could be: they eat (and therefore help control) rodents, snakes, insects and spiders, including black widows, for example. My instinct to get rid of the skunk is being tempered a little bit by understanding where the skunk fits into the workings of the local ecosystem. Emphasis on "a little bit."
It's 5:20 a.m. now. I've heard the first birds call, briefly, outside. I just checked and the backyard is empty. Time for another day to begin. I won't be watching the feeders and the birdbath with the same eyes today, however.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)