A Wolf Tree is the guardian of the forest. This tree and about four or five others in our forest still stand, hailing from hundreds of years ago. They escaped the saw, when pioneers cleared the rugged hillsides, in search of pasture, and are now probably 20 feet in circumference. They have since become the dominant source of seeds, stature, and inspiration for this ecosystem. They are all white oaks and have withstood relentless tests of time.
The winds of recent pulled apart this shademobile. This well-constructed piece of engineering fell prey to intense winds this summer. In like manner, our planned occasion for spreading seeds in wetlands last Saturday had to be rescheduled (for Monday Jan. 3) because of the fallout from the tornado, which came through the region that day. The NOAA in Wilmington apprised we would see 40 m.p.h. winds, which would blow a tent over or hat off. The next day I stopped at a neighbor's house and witnessed this tree upon his roof.
How does one write a newsletter? My friend, Adrian, suggested a while ago I describe the process of composing a newsletter. This has proven to be a challenge to articulate, because I don't fully understand it! But upon undue reflection, I have discerned several strategies and a common structure.
What is the difference between suspension and traction? They can be confused. Our business is moving from one to the other, it appears. But is it really? And where were we compared to where we are now? Is the paradigm of traction really any different from that of suspension?
A week ago 6 inches of rain fell in 24 hours. The creek ran full, and thankfully our recently widened stream banks held the sudden surge of water. Over the past two falls, we have peeled back the stream banks on 3,000 feet of Baker Fork Creek to reduce flooding of adjacent fields and to reduce erosion of the walls of the banks. This was a test run, and the renovation worked perfectly. The stream did not breach the banks to enter adjacent fields and fields upstream were not flooded, as they typically have been from events like this.
Monks of the soil chant, and we finally hear their song. These statuesque piles of rich brown dirt proclaim themselves, especially when lined up, side by side, for thousands of feet on end singing in chorus. What are they proclaiming?
Emboldened by each rising sun, we continue pursuing projects and visions. Our most unusual project of late has been fashioning the previously mentioned stone fountain. It is constructed of red sand stone, for which our landowning entity is named, Red Stone Farm. These red stones were quarried from the neighboring hillside, and provided the foundation for an old house on the property, now taken down. But the stones remain, and we have been harvesting them for special use throughout the farm, over the decades, with this fountain being the most celebratory.
We take turkeys to be processed on September 30th, so it is time to begin placing orders. We will have to assess how many birds to leave whole and how many to cut into parts. We can also do half a turkey. Your input as to whether you would like a whole bird before the 30th would therefore be helpful. Othewise, we will have to guess, which is always perilous!
August is magical. August bears a potency unlike any other month. It is absolutely honest about its afternoon heat, sweaty, rich nights, and the promise of cool mornings. The biological year seems to mature in August, with all of nature's complexity finally interweaving into a thick tapestry, which becomes ever thinner in the months thereafter. It is a month of no nonsense. One has to be careful operating in its overbearing temperatures, and as such, offers a reflection as to who one is. It presents spectacle through its unvarnished power and beauty. One respects the month of August.
As heat bears down and cows find shade, we are envisioning a revised future. We have found a fine new home for these cows with Tyler Greene in Lancaster County, Kentucky. They depart on Monday. Fortunately, he is close enough we can buy back offspring in the future, should we need to. The cows' calves from last year will be heading to Tyler's farm as well. He is a young man, who represents the best of the future, and his farm is Sunwatch Homestead. We accept this outcome, unexpected though it is.
This is our "rose garden". These wild hibiscus are nestled throughout the wetlands, accented by button bush and an unending bed of rice cut-grass. Their brilliant pink bloom is transporting to behold. This flower has come to symbolize for us the ethereal nature of these wetlands and of the journey we find ourselves on. It also blooms faithfully on Susan's birthday, at the end of July, giving it a special place in our regard.
Letting go brings returns. Since being locked out of the Hyde Park Market two months ago, our perspective on our business has turned. Despite a devoted group of faithful and essential customers, our sales are registering half what they were a year ago. Financial flow has thus diminished, which is of note to those close by. It takes time and investment to develop new customers to replace walk-up traffic at a busy market, and in the meantime, one bears the brunt of consequences.
