Acair Fearann

I suppose winter had to show up at some point.  It is the wind more than the cold actually; it makes doing things outside a bit of a challenge what with random bits of tree branches coming down here and there.  Oddly enough, even Maine-bred loggers don’t like high wind.  Smart of them.

(Personal whine here) Still, I can’t say that I really care for this bit of winter. Or perhaps, more to the point, I don’t really care for trying to balance several schedules that can’t really slow down because it is winter.  The modern world of reports and budgets grinds on, as does the modern world of working shift schedules. Combining them and winter weather….well. *

But the world is turning, and as cold as it is, the sun is winning and the moon is riding high. There is today and God willing there is tomorrow.

*All made a bit grimmer by the news that a man I have come to know fairly well over the last two years, at least his temperament and his outlook on business, died last night.  All of us on the board in question knew it was coming, but still it jars.

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There is a dirt road that runs by our property, which being the only dirt road of any length in town has become something of a destination for those taking a walk.  It is also a commuter short cut.  The juxtaposition of those enjoying nature and those enjoying the lack of a posted speed limit is sometimes awkward.  It is made more awkward be those few other people, who are using the road as a road, but aren’t abusing it as a shortcut.

There are a lot of people on it.  Currently, it has a lovely tendency towards the art of balancing rocks.  You know, those sculptures created by taking one rock and balancing it on another and the next and the next.  I sort of hope the trend continues.  They are, I believe, at this point communal sculptures with people adding new ones or adding to existing ones.  To the best of my knowledge none have been deliberately knocked down either, which is something of a miracle it seems to me these days.  I don’t object to them, as long as they stay next to the road, though the majority are on our side of the road and therefore possibly on our land.

And we have the dog walkers (the corgi contingent in particular), the power walkers, the walkers who are out because the doctor said so, the people enjoying the walk, and so forth.  Only a rare horse these days.  The commuter traffic makes trying to ride a horse dangerous.  What is odd about that, of course, is that chances are the speeding commuters are also the walkers, and probably complain about the traffic.

There are also the people whom one simply knows; the cars one recognizes at a certain time each day.  I had a pleasant chat with one such today, he was delivering a load of firewood to a neighbor, I was contemplating the woods.  Nice guy, we agreed that the only reason to stay in Connecticut was because a) family b) we loved the land here.  He’d be in New Zealand otherwise, apparently.  Definite Swamp Yankee, and no insult in the term; I doubt he’d ever build a balanced stone sculpture, though he’d likely leave it alone on the strength of the ‘due unto others as….’. He didn’t care much for the traffic, but understood why people love the walk.

It is an odd community, not sure how much of the ‘middle’ is left these days though.

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with wood

Trees are, of themselves, a wondrous thing. For man to build a structure that is a hundred feet plus in height that will stand for centuries….the effort, dear heaven! (the paperwork!). For nature? This is, indeed, the natural course of things.

But consider wood.  We use it daily and daily it frustrates or fascinates us.  This house, we have calculated, changes its length by about 1 to 2 inches over the course of each year.  The plaster, which does not care for such gyrations, is annoyed.  The wooden frame does not care.  It will shrink and it will expand, year in and year out.Best not to fiddle with it.

I was reading with great interest an article discussing the compression rates of wood in ships. The article’s end paragraph suggested that if the boat was hauled out (and therefore dried out) each winter, the best thing to do each spring was to be patient.  Put it in the water, get the pumps running, and wait a few days…then put caulk in it if needed. The wood will swell of its own nature and return to its watertight state. Patience.

But we need consider not only the variable of wood, but of each species! Maple, pine, oak, locust, cedar, lignum vitae, mahogany, spruce, and on the list goes….  And then how it is treated or cut or cured….

Fuel, art, or shelter?  What other material does as well?

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We have a lot of big trees here….

But every once in awhile the trees that capture one’s attention change (this takes a decade or two). The current suddenly noticeable one, for me, is the second of the two spruces beyond Happy Thought.  I know, who actually remembers it is there, aside from the massive trunk?  One doesn’t notice it because one can’t actually, really see its top from the house lot.

But you certainly can now from the bottom of the meadow.  In early photographs it was very visible, since there were no trees to the west of it and it was planted early on.  But then the tennis court went to white pine in the 40’s and it vanished.  Well, it has re-emerged from behind them again. I wonder how big it will get?  The pines could out top it again of course, but their first sprint has slowed down to a steady marathon pace.

You can see it below on the left side, on far the right of the clump of pines. Behind the last pine there is the distinctive silhouette of a Norway spruce, spikier and darker green that the pine.  Compare it to the other spruce immediately to the right, which is a much more important tree when one is on the lawn; but is much smaller.  Obviously, it has been above the pines for a few years, but it really is only just getting to be noticeable.  It also may be approaching the prize as the tallest tree on the place.

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The major seed catalogs have all arrived….I am not sure I am quite ready for this.  Somehow, December’s warm weather has made me even more wary of winter.  It isn’t that I don’t want spring, it is that I am still waiting for the shoe to drop and winter to commence. Besides, I might still be able to sneak a leek or some parsley out of the garden from Last summer, which makes contemplating next summer peculiar. Strangely, pulling something from the freezer (or the multitude of squash downstairs) does not elicit the same feeling that last year’s garden is still active.

The mind is an odd and wonderful place!

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Where did 2015 go?

Not where I expected it, for sure.  One year ago I was writing for a paper, plotting out a whole set of articles.  That folded with remarkable speed in late January.  May that not happen this year! (And yes, I know, that book still isn’t written)

I certainly didn’t expect to be working with the current group of people, all but one of whom I’d never met before 2015. Furthermore, a group that includes several people whose opinions I value more than anyone I have ever worked with before.*

What will next year bring? Well, at least for the next few months a continuation of that work with that group of people. But I’ll try not to think about the future too much.

Today has enough in it, the woods are as beautiful as always. And what seas will come, will come.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4egb2gpIg4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acxnmaVTlZA

*For those of you who know me, that is saying something. It isn’t in fact something I’ve encountered before. At least not in a consistent ‘across the board’ fashion.

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