• Phantom Dogs, Dried Leaves and Herring

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    The late afternoon sun likes to play tricks. Against the side of the house is the shadow of a strange dog … which turns out to just be the shadow of a rock.

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    The golden sunlight turns a wheelbarrow of leaves into a pile of gold. The leaves are actually worth more than gold. You can’t eat gold, but the leaves will turn into rich soil which will nourish a field of carrots and beans and kale, which in turn will feed us.

    A calamity many organic farmers in the Fukushima area experienced after the nuclear meltdown, was the radioactive contamination of the forests. They relied on the fallen leaves of the forest to help nourish their fields. The government could decontaminate their dwellings and their fields, but no one knew how to decontaminate entire forests, and so the farmers lost an important source of nutrients for their crops.

    We humans keep building these incredible, fantastic, complicated mechanisms like nuclear power plants, but when they go poof! we have no idea how to undo the unimaginable harm they cause. There will be towns around the Fukushima nuclear power plants that people will never live in again.

    It is like the destruction of the Herring fishery in Prince William Sound after the Exxon Valdez ran aground. Twenty-five years have passed since that manmade calamity, and the herring have still yet to recover. There never seems to be any adequate accounting or compensation or meaningful punishment for those who bring such devastation to an ecosystem, because it keeps happening again and again. 600,000 to 800,000 birds died due to the Deepwater Horizon oil disaster. All the money in the world can’t make up for such enormous devastation.

    In the case of the Exxon Valdez disaster, a fitting punishment would have been to make the CEO and board members of Exxon eke out a living by fishing for herring in a sound with no herring. Only after twenty-five years would they have begun to comprehend a fraction of the harm their greed and decisions wrought.

  • The Beauty of Frost

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    Frost can be as beautiful as snow. The frilly frost above is just a few steps from one of the vegetable patches. The pictures below are from the side of the road. I went on my bicycle this afternoon to run and errand, and when I saw the frosty road bank, I had to stop and take a few pictures. I really like the way the frost makes the moss extra thick and fuzzy.

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  • A Real Feather Bed

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    I was worried about one mother and her chick yesterday evening when I didn’t find them roosting in their regular spot. I did a little searching and found she had moved back to the main roost with the other adult chickens. Her chick was right with her, buried underneath her. You can see the chick’s feathers buried underneath hers. That is a real feather bed. The chick will stay warm and cozy all night, even if it is freezing.

  • On the Trail Today

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    A spell of cold, dry weather is conducive to maintaining the trails that meander through the woods. The trails don’t a well thought design. For the most part, I’m widening the trails the dogs make during their regular patrols.

    In the woods, there is always something fascinating to see. Even though it is a cold day, that isn’t snow on the branches above. It is a pure, white mold. And below, a cedar and wild cherry have grown up together. Their trunks and roots are enmeshed. Cherry roots flow out the trunk of the cedar. The trees are inseparable. A cherry and cedar tree, would one call that a cheddar tree?

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  • A Job Well Done

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    Lucky set her chicks free today. Just yesterday, they were all together, but this morning she was by herself, and her chicks off on their own. All I can say is, “Job well done, Lucky!”

    What does a mother hen feel when her chicks leave home to fend for themselves? What about the chicks? Are they finally glad to be out from under their mother’s feet? Or is it a non-event for them?

    Below is a series of photos from when she hatched them on September 15, 2014 through November 17, 2014. They’ll give you and idea as to how hard a mother works, raising her brood.

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    And as dusk settles, Lucky is back roosting with the rest of the hens for the first time in 12 weeks, while her chicks are bedding down where she used to spend the nights with them. Well done, Lucky. You were a superb mother. Your chicks were lucky to have you hatch and raise them.

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