Archive for the ‘plants’ Category
what happens in the desert . . . 6 comments
Several years ago, Don returned from a trip to Arizona wearing a t-shirt that said, “what happens in the desert, stays in the desert”. That’s more or less true. For the fifth consecutive year, I’ve returned to the north with part of my soul remaining behind. However, this year, with it being so dry in southeast Arizona, part of the desert tried to come home with me. My van is probably carrying a couple of pounds of red dust. It’s on and inside of everything, including the guitar, banjo and fiddle cases.
As most of you will know, this blog has been very quiet over the winter. In part, it was a case of me not feeling much like writing, but also due to preoccupation with some decisions about whether to return to the same place next winter. After five years of renting a house in town, It seemed time to move on. The rental house has been a good thing in my life — sort of like a big life raft floating serenely on the Sea of Chaos. However, now, with the old place at Round Hill gradually taking shape, it felt like the right time to leave the raft and swim off into a new adventure.
And so it was that I relocated to an off-grid cabin in the Sulphur Springs valley east of Bisbee.
It is a place where I would be surrounded by nature. It’s Chihuahuan desert, dominated by mesquite, whitethorn acacia, creosote bush, devil’s claw, yucca, and other arid land plants.
In places, ant hills scatter the sand like craters on a moonscape.
Footprints of javelina, fox, coyote, roadrunner, kangaroo rat, lizards, and other creatures form a network of trails. Kestrel, ravens, vultures, harriers, redtail hawks, and in winter, sandhill cranes, glide and soar overrhead.
Every foray presents me with some new plant, creature, fascinating rock, or old relic from the past. There is a 360 view of the sky. Sunrises, sunsets and clouds take on a greater significance. At night, the moon and stars take center stage.
The dogs love the freedom of racing down washes and around hummocks of mesquite – as do I.
Before leaving for the season, I made a circle of stones on a little rise above one of the more pronounced washes. Inside the circle, I arranged findings of the last few days’ walks before leaving. Compass-like, an odd rusty piece of metal points northeast. This summer in the north, I shall make another pointing southwest. It is good to have markers pointing the way home.
back in the pink 18 comments
It’s been a few weeks since I put up a post. Summer seems to have been slipping by almost unnoticed. Much of eastern Canada has been in the grip of a drought. Somewhat surprisingly, even this region of Nova Scotia, surrounded as it is by the Atlantic Ocean and with the Bay of Fundy tides at its doorstep, has been very dry too. Fortunately, we have been spared the extreme heat that has blanketed so much of the continent this summer.
It’s a little difficult to explain why I have not felt like putting up a blog post. Part of the blame goes to spending time out there living – going for long walks with Sage. As well, I have devoted at least an hour a day to working on my fiddle playing. I’ve learned about two dozen new tunes this summer. I have found that playing music is a good way to relax and rest my mind.
I’ve done some mothing over the summer, but for the most part, it hasn’t been such a great season. Between the cool nights and the drought, it seemed to put a lid on things. However, I have been finding the odd moth such as the Primrose moth (Schinia florida) in the above and below photos, resting on vegetation (click on all photos for larger views).
Gardening has been a bit hit and miss. Everything was growing like mad earlier on. I had managed to get the potatoes planted, and seeds in the ground quite early, so thought there would be a bumper crop of everything. However, how soon the tables were to turn! Even the formerly prolific rose bushes finally hit the brakes as the rainless weeks dragged on.
But as I have discovered through experience, there are always some bright spots here and there and you learn to watch for and enjoy them as you find them. The new daylilies purchased last summer from Canning Daylily Farm near Wolfville, have put on quite a show.
Although much of the vegetable garden has failed, there have been a few pleasant successes, including the tasty Norland potatoes which always give me the feeling that I’m digging up edible gemstones. The potatoes aren’t very large as the tops died off in the drought, but I love new potatoes and had already started digging them to eat and share with the neighbours where I planted the vegetable garden this year.
All in all, things have been going along okay. True, there has not been much work done on the house this year. I’ve tried to figure out why that should be and have come to the conclusion that my mind and body wanted a rest after the five years since Don first became ill, and the now almost four years living alone since he died. A few weeks ago, while talking to one of my brothers on the phone, I commented that this old house was painted as much with anger and sadness as with any paint. There is more truth to that than I normally like to admit. For almost four years, I have often functioned a bit like an automaton – rising at dawn and driving myself onward relentlessly until darkness called a halt for that day. However, there comes a time when the constant drain on your mind and body wears you thin as a line and then you must stop or – well, I don’t really know that there has to be an “or” but eventually you just can’t go on. This summer, I reached that point. It was time to stop and do things in a different way. Progress has been made, but without obsession, or perhaps more that the negative energy was inverted into something positive, like long walks and fiddle playing. Whatever, it feels good to regain some of the self that I used to be.