Random Linkage Friday, Jun 27 2014 

Really in lieu of content! But also hours of interesting reading

(in other news, the grey fox has two lovely cubs: one apparently quite bold, the other not so bold. And they are quite happily living under Happy Thought, with a most impressive network of paths under and around the garden.)

http://www.thehistoryblog.com

Summertime Wednesday, Jun 25 2014 

It is oddly hard to concentrate on getting anything done in the summer.  There is a lot that needs to get done, but somehow….

Inertia strikes!  Summer simply seems to lack the urgency of either spring or fall. Especially on cloudy, humid days like today when what one is really waiting for is a big thunderstorm to come rumbling through.  I do hope it doesn’t bash the baby beets and chard to badly….

Or maybe it is the fact that the days are so long, so there is not drive to get things done before dark.

Wake me up in the fall?

Or maybe I am just procrastinating….that does seem most likely.

Under Way! Thursday, Jun 12 2014 

A link to something totally different here, classic Southern New England:

The MORGAN Sails Again

 

Virginia Bluebells Sunday, May 18 2014 

IMG_3011

 

A wildly underused native flower, mertensia virginica, otherwise known as Virginia Bluebells.

This plant likes shady, moist woodlands.  It flowers in the early spring and goes dormant in the summer.  Its big green leaves look a bit like fuzzy lettuce (though when they come up the buds are almost purple/black).  Its flowers…well you can see.  They start as pink buds, but when fully open are a lovely blue.  They are similar in this sense to some of the pulmonarias or lungworts, but without the purple tones to the colors. It is about 12-18 inches tall with an arching, soft habit.

We have one plant, hopefully we can get it to spread and/or divide it.

Highly recommended…if you can find it.

Un, deux, trois Saturday, May 17 2014 

Three little redbuds all in a row, well not so little….  And not in a row either, though the two volunteers are; the parent is just off the left of the screen. It sprawls a good forty feet these days and is up to three support posts, two of which you can see there.  The second redbud is directly in the center of the photograph; the third redbud is the one just next to the white bench on the far right.  The maroon beyond is a volunteer Japanese Maple, whose parent is the trunk looming on the left.  We do volunteers around here!

IMG_3008

Front Porch Conversations Friday, May 9 2014 

circa 1925: Helen Yale Ellsworth on the left, I am honestly not sure who is on the right, but I have this feeling I should know her…neither lady looks particularly comfortable with the idea of a photographer hanging about; selfies clearly would not have been on the program.

probably Bonne Mama on left

Who owns the land? Sunday, Apr 27 2014 

(Meandering partial points of philosophy)

I got to thinking on this topic, never really far from my mind, following a comment I read related to the recent little scrum about cattle.  The comment that got my back up was a statement that easterners can’t possibly know anything about owning land since they haven’t lived on it for generations unlike the ranchers in question.  There were so many things wrong with that statement that I couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t rude in response.  One more polite strand was the theory of ownership as a legalized expression of the territoriality of mankind.

Now most people living in urban areas, and the urban metropolis of the east coast dominates the concept of the east coast*, don’t (or more accurately can’t) know the land in the naturalistic sense that we usually think of when we talk about knowing and owning the land.  But the instinctive desire for ownership is nevertheless present, evident in such seemingly disconnected locations as the rent control apartments of Harlem.  Who ‘owns’ those apartments?  That isn’t land, at least not in the way a rancher or farmer or forester thinks of it.  But it is the territory of that person even though it is the legal property of someone else.  Try kicking that person out of their little walk-up, I daresay their reaction will be just as unprintable as booting someone off their ranch.  Whether it is or is not justified, legal or illegal, doesn’t matter, that little (or big) area is Theirs.

For the most part, the majority of people in the US like to ignore that urge, because for many of us it is quiescent.  We move from one house to another without really thinking about it…except, of course, for that little voice that is always planning our dream home.  We don’t have territory that we call Ours, but is this because we don’t think that way or is it because we have never been challenged with forced eviction while living in our ‘temporary’ territory? Or is it because a mobile, modern, finance driven lifestyle has fundamentally changed us after three generations?

The questions aren’t easy.  If they were the Middle East would be solved, as would Ukraine.  How many years, how many generations? Why do some people set down roots easily but also move easily?  Or some never set down roots anywhere? Or some who have only one place that is home and no other?

The questions are made more complicated by the role of our government and law in the question. In our legal system, if we own the land, it implies we bought it from someone and that someone else can buy it back.  That, however, flies in the face of our instincts: this is mine, there is no price.  But if the other person isn’t operating on that instinct in regards to that specific piece of land such a reaction is baffling.  There are plenty of people who truly don’t ‘get’ that instinctive reaction or don’t recognize it for what it is.  Importantly, it also flies against the often overlooked bit of philosophy which is unusual to American political thought: man’s right to his property, and by extension his property, is not a right created by the government; rather it is an inalienable right.  Property taxes, income taxes, estate taxes, and a host of regulations have chipped away at this idea; but we still have some concept of it.

We make it even more complicated of course: trying to balance the theory of inalienable Private, individual ownership of some land with inalienable Public, communal ownership of other pieces.  That balancing act, in Connecticut, is essentially theoretical.  The Federal government owns only .4% of Connecticut land, tied with Rhode Island for dead last.  Not even 1 percent.  (compared to 84.5% of Nevada).  That, of course, gets into a whole other strand outside the scope of this post.

In any case, things get quite uncomfortable.  To return to the Middle East, I sometimes think that Israel and the Arab World are closer in their fundamental philosophy than either are to the dominant trend in Western thought.  They both understand that part of human nature is: ‘This is Mine’.  Meanwhile our arguments are turning on whether human nature should have that part of not. And generally proving that said part is alive and kicking. Awkward, that.

What do I know? This land, for this time, is my responsibility.

Is responsibility ownership?

*If easterners purportedly believe that all westerners are the idiot townspeople of ‘Blazing Saddles’, I’m sometimes of the mind that all westerners think all easterners just stepped vacantly off the set of ‘Friends’.  Neither is correct.

March Wedding Sunday, Mar 23 2014 

March Wedding

In March’s sudden snow

The ice rode the south wind

And a diamond veil lay on the land

Let the sun lift it

Let the bride’s kiss

Blossom

February Snow Friday, Feb 28 2014 

The cedars, (are) suspended

On an ice bridled shore

Between a waiting forest

And (the) black water

That coils beneath deepening ice

The wind bites

And (it) brings to me

The mournful wail of a southbound train

I could go

Far from the snow locked marshes

(Far from) The polished drifts of a frozen land

(But) All noise fades to silence

I bow my head to the whitened world

Walking north

*Meh, I can’t get it tweaked right. Not written about here by the way, but about rural Ontario.  Though last night here was certainly fitting

First Thunderstorm of the Year! Friday, Feb 21 2014 

In February? Really?

I’ll admit, snow, fog, and lightening make for an elegant scene; as do the clearing clouds with a flash of pink/gold low on the horizon at sunset. But, really?

I like thunderstorms, it’s just they are such an inescapable demonstration of how powerful we aren’t that I find them sobering.  The town’s sirens are almost always set off in the immediate aftermath, one always wonder what, if anything, has been damaged…*

They’re here and gone though. Can you imagine what the storms on other planets. those that last for centuries, must be like?

 

*I’d like to know what the electrical flash on the other side of Jones Mountain and the immediate set of automated sirens in the town center last night was.  I’ll never know, but it does make one curious, I’d never heard that set of sirens before.

« Previous PageNext Page »