November 1 brought frost and bursts of gale-driven snow to signal the winding down of farm color for another year. The low angle of Fall sunlight enables vivid reds and oranges but yellow, brown and faded green will soon be the dominant landscape colors.
Our Bluecircle hens already know Winter is coming – we’ll be buying eggs while they take a sabbatical leave until March. The plastic panels that shutter their coop windows aren’t required yet but already they roost huddled together for warmth. A few more pleasant afternoons are forecast this week.
The Bluecircle recently celebrated a birthday; 10 years have passed since the first spruce and arborvitae were planted on the north property line. Most of the acreage is filled with conifers and hardwood but a few projects remain. A bare-root planting intended to be red oak turned out to bear hybrid chestnuts instead of acorns, presumably because of a shipping error at the nursery. Hybrid poplars from one of three suppliers were disease-prone and 23 died off in the last year. And the Japanese beetles that plagued Pinot Gris grape vines are equally fond of red raspberry leaves.
So there will be room for a little more planting and a new trail site in the new year. For now its time to break out the leaf blower!
Seniors today get reminded about fall prevention even as most come to realize that the ground is harder than you remembered from your youth. Other realities: climbing back up is more work than before, and the kinds of things that trip you are smaller and less obvious than before. The goal then is to move safely, but always land as softly as possible.
In the season’s lengthening shadows Bluecircle sand has begun to collect its first leaves, mostly maple and cottonwood. The dew has become heavier with cool nights and wet grass persists until almost noon. Ducks that mate in Fall rehearse their head-bobbing dances on the lake below and every day more trees show color. A late-blooming summer squash is gambling to nurse its first fruit before cold weather breaks.
Nearby, the din of heavy equipment sounds nearly every day. Several more of the century-old lakefront cottages and their tall trees have fallen to the wrecker. New construction that fills the gaps will create the only shade likely to be seen on these properties for many years. And once the clatter of the builders, roofers, cement workers and equipment operators dies away the routine quiet of this vacation home neighborhood will return.
A rhetorical question to begin this post, but poison ivy is one of the best-adapted vines in this landscape. When a thunderstorm downpours registers “zero” on the Paw Paw Lake East rain gauge it’s time to get a ladder and investigate the gauge. Spider nests, cottonwood or maple seeds or other plant debris plugging the rain collector funnel at the top of the gauge are common offenders.
This week poison ivy, a more formidable problem, was to blame. The image above is the usual, shade-loving ground variety of the ivy whose 3 leaves mean “no contact allowed”. Below, the rain gauge decked out in what might be called “tree ivy”.
Again, no contact allowed with stems or leave , especially without gloves and long sleeves. Definitely no weed-eater allowed because it would create a toxic sap spray. Weedkillers are seldom used on the Bluecircle, but this situation called for a hand sprayer of ivycide. Fortunately the solar panel on the weather station was not covered, so cleanup of the collector and internal rain meter should be all that’s needed to get the station operational.
A more common form of poison ivy begins in the shade of evergreens that are too small to have a ground covering layer of old needles, or pine straw. Here ivy tendrils reach the trunk and climb, eventually branching out onto the upper boughs. In the example below nearly the entire top of the spruce is hidden. This is far too high to manage with a sprayer, so clippers will have to be used to strip ivy stems from the lower trunk and restore sunlight to the spruce top.
New oak leaves and their flowers are providing fresh color despite the late surge of cold air this weekend. Hopefully the frost won’t interfere with the acorn production our abundant black and grey squirrels depend on. One has already taken the liberty of an oak flower snack while dangling from the branch tip. In a taller tree a neighbor’s kind donation of pork chop left-overs made Mothers Day breakfast for another fat black squirrel.
Pea, spinach, lettuce and radish leaves are growing day by day in the early garden and we have enjoyed the first asparagus of the year.
Tree seedlings from Wisconsin’s Chief River Nurseries arrived today on a cool, damp Arbor Day to join the peas, leaf lettuce, radish and spinach already sprouted in the gardens.
Planting the hickory seedlings with a tree spade took only a few minutes, best described as putting sticks in the grass (budded end up, of course).
The hemlock and fir seedlings were more heavily rooted but still amenable to tree spade planting. Since that was the approach recommended by the nursery they too were “spaded in”, leaving a signature divot a few inches from the stem. Hemlock planted here a few years ago have grown rapidly and are now over eight feet tall. The new hemlock will fill thin areas along the south edge of other plantings.
This will be the first season for the blue-green concolor firs. In a few weeks they will be joined by a some Douglas fir seedlings to improve the balance between pine, spruce and fir.
Tax day again brings the last shrouds of winter snow to the rising buds of Spring. It’s a time of transition needing both parkas and jackets, boots and sneakers by the front door. The still leafless woods stand snow-clad while wild roses show a little green and early rising flower stems are nearly blanketed.
This is the season that brought the blue fairie home to the farm. Today her house is roofed with the last, fleeting snowflakes but tomorrow it will be bathed in sunlight. The cottonwood stump beneath it serves as a reminder of the cycle of growth and returning that inspired the Bluecircle’s name.
Blue light streams from the house at night, brighter than the stars but like them a cool, silent witness to the passing days and years. There is no music at this place of memories save a distant chime that speaks on windy days. Like all butterflies, the small one that rests on the faire’s toe is silent.
The exterior of the new garage is now mostly finished, awaiting the arrival of the electrician and crew. Snowfall lags well below our average but the snowblower has gotten a little exercise and the fuel tank may have to be refilled before we bid this season goodbye.
The February sun and a little rain have made short work of the Nordic ski trail that briefly ringed the Bluecircle and Conservancy. But cold nights brought ice back to the open waters of Paw Paw Lake for at least a few more weeks.
Thin ice grew to a shore-to-shore ice covering overnight as the gale subsided and temperature dropped into the low teens. The lake finally achieved its winter hibernation beneath a shroud of white.
The new garage has progressed from piles of lumber and a plan to a completed roof, windows, slab and partial siding. However, construction has now lapsed while the crew finds a warmer place to work. Delivery of the main doors by the end of the month should let inside construction begin soon.
Since the solstice work has begun on the Bluecircle workshop-garage overlooking Paw Paw Lake. The project plan was developed using Home Design Studio Essentials software. Early plans were larger and others more complicated; window, roof and wall concepts came and went. The 70-year old garage it replaces is scarred, roofline and rafters charred and sagging from a near-fatal fire decades ago.
The site was transformed from concrete and sand to studded walls in less than 3 days thanks to Charlie Sample’s dedicated crew and a warm December. The “little green giant” he pilots is now flying lumber to the carpenters – truss framing is underway and the roof deck should be in place this week. Then another dose of lake effect snow will cover the muddy ruts of construction and restore the reality of Winter.