a man and his hoe

every day is a good day

Category: Reflections

The Colors Are Back, so Is the Sting

Spring should be called Colors. The drab hues of winter give way to the brilliance of cobalt skies, iridescent hue of flowers, and emerald green of new leaves. The crocus are out which means winter has gone for sure.

Billy is enjoying the early spring sunshine. This is his eighth spring. He’s such an old man. He’s the oldest chicken here. Each morning when I see him, it makes me happy. “Billy is still here,” I say. “It’s a good morning.”

The stinging nettles grow taller every day. Touch them with your fingers and you’ll feel the burn of spring in your fingers for a few days, maybe a week. It’s not a blistering, frightening, insufferable, life-threatening burn like poison ivy or poison oak. It’s an “ouch” and then your fingers tingle like they’re high or something. It’s sorta meditative. It’s just enough tingling to make you aware of your fingers, to make you be present. In a few days it’s gone and you’re tempted to touch them again.

February 20, 2016
Oem le ria era si form is – a Morning Chant

With blue in the morning sky, a walk in the woods is called for. Deep in the woods, Indian Plum or Osoberry are in full bloom, dangling their white flowers under budding leaves. These dainty white delights are among the earliest wildflowers to bloom around here. Their Latin name, Oemleria cerasiformis, sounds like a morning chant: Oem le ria era si form is, oem le ria era si form is, oem le ria era si form is. I can picture a line of monks chanting this during their morning meditation in the woods, can you? Or would this chant work better: O em le riaca si formis?

Cerasiformis means cherry shaped. Oemleria cerasiformis is the only species in the entire genus of oemleria. It’s one of a kind.

The main chicken bridge here is one of a kind too. I have reason to believe it may be the most crossed, busiest chicken bridge in the world. All day long the chickens go back and forth to see what is on the other side.

The morning skies did not fail. The stinging nettles (urtica dioica) are up and I gathered this year’s first harvest of nettles. Tossed into a pot of chowder, they add a spring touch to a hearty lunch. Take a bite, savor the taste of spring and chant to commemorate this first of the year nettles: urt ica dio ica, urt ica dio ica.

February 18, 2016
Sunshine in the Pacific Northwest

A sunny day in the Pacific Northwest. If there is a circular glow in the sky, it’s a sunny day. If you don’t get wet when you step outside, it’s a sunny day in the Pacific Northwest. Light gray is considered a shade of blue here. The hens are out in the pasture early in the morning. Blue skies and brilliant sunshine, a Pacific Northwest glow, or steady drizzle, it doesn’t matter to them. It shouldn’t matter to me either, though if they knew there were places where the skies are blue most of the time, they’d probably ask me to take them there.

The rhubarb is sprouting. You haven’t lived if you haven’t tasted rhubarb’s first spring stalks. The Tokyo Bekana I didn’t pick in the hoop house is in full bloom. Many vegetables are so beautiful in bloom, that you’re better off not eating them all. Let a few bloom and dazzle. One plant will provide more seed than I can possibly plant. How great is that?

Ginhime is relieved. She waited and waited this morning to get on this nest. At times, there were several hens in the nest, laying eggs. Never mind that there were plenty of empty nests nearby. She wanted this nest too. Now she has it all to herself. What a relief.

February 17, 2016
Before It’s Too Late

Wow! The sun still exists! I know because I saw it this morning, glowing brightly behind the morning clouds. I took a picture in case I never see it before I die. This time of year, when clouds rule for weeks on end, it does seem like I’ll die before the clouds part and I get to see even a sliver of the sun.

The mushrooms growing in the garden everywhere are as happy as can be. Sun? Who needs the sun? May rain and clouds rule forever, is their morning screed.

February 16, 2016
No Longer a Dream

The salmonberry leaves are sprouting. Spring is no longer a dream. The great unfurling has begun. When leaves first unfurl and take their first breath, they don’t scream like newborn babies, or do they? Is the forest filled with the cries of baby leaves, crying at pitches we can’t hear? Maybe it is the crying of new leaves that wakes up the insects.

This is the time the cherry tree which blooms year round has its heavy blooms. Every month of the year, this tree has a few blossoms. At times, there are just one or two blossoms on the entire tree. For this tree, this is what full bloom looks like.

February 11, 2016