Snirt Alert

If you've been driving in the country around my neck of the woods lately, you have probably observed a fair amount of snirt on the edges of fields and in the ditches by the roads.  If you're not from around here or you are not a person who periodically drives in rural areas where row crop fields are the predominant feature in the landscape, then I suspect you might not know what snirt is...  until now.

All you have to do is look at the picture above.  The pile at the right is a snow drift on the north edge of our property.  Snow is, of course, typically thought to be white in color.  But, that's not true if a fair amount of dirt came for the ride as the wind blew across acre upon acre of flat ground that has very little for windbreaks or groundcover.

Our farm has very deep snow drifts on the north and west edges because we have been working to develop vertical buffer strips around our farm with trees, grasses, bushes and even brush piles. But to be more accurate, our farm has had drifts on the edges every year we've been here once we took land in the southwest and east and changed it over to diversified production with buffer strips and pathways.

Today's snirt is on our farm, in part, because of the words of Earl Butz, Secretary of Agriculture for Richard M. Nixon.  Butz called upon farmers in the United States to plant from fencerow to fencerow and encouraged individual farms to get big or get out.  I should be clear here, however, that his declaration in 1973 did not mark the beginning of snirt in Iowa and other locations.  It merely emphasized a style of agriculture that has little regard for diversity and natural processes - a style that was already gaining steam, especially after World War II.

As a matter of fact, it started when Europeans moved west across the American continent and were insistent on adapting the land to their agriculture versus adapting their agriculture to the land.

Before you think that I will now make the claim that I know the best way to be a steward of the land without a shadow of a doubt, let me disabuse you of that notion.  I am fully aware that I do not have all of the answers.  All I know is that Tammy and I are dedicated to doing our best to be good stewards that listen to the land and are willing to be servants that keep it as healthy as we are able.  That means we make the best decisions and take the best actions we can with what we know and then adjust as we learn more.

There are, however, some things I do have a pretty good idea about.  For example, all of the "recreational tillage" so many land operators partook of this fall has resulted in places like ours collecting a batch of their top soil.  It is pretty well known that excessive tillage in abnormally dry to drought conditions is a bad idea.  And, if you don't believe me, here is some information from Iowa State University that gives you some reasons why this is the case.  And if you don't believe them, do some more searching on your own, I'm pretty confident that I've got this one right.

And to top it off, most of the state still looks pretty colorful given the January drought monitor.

Before you think I am getting all "high and mighty" here - let me admit that we have made mistakes at the Genuine Faux Farm and not made the best decisions for our land all of the time.  In fact, we have, at times, taken actions that were completely the wrong ones.  And that's part of the reason why I struggle with what I observe here.

I'm not convinced that enough people are thinking all that hard about whether their actions, when it comes to the land, are the right actions.  If they did, I would think knowledge regarding best and worst time to conduct tillage would be more common - and it would be less likely that so many would run contrary to that wisdom.

This drift along the north line of our farm is as deep as six to eight feet in places - and this is after they've been reduced a bit in size.  The first two evergreens you see in this picture are both about twelve feet tall.  Most of this is courtesy of the pre-Christmas storm that brought frigid cold, high winds and ... two to six inches of snow.

I think it is safe to say that our farm collected most of the snow that fell on it.  Though, with winds like that I am sure some of it blew somewhere else.  But, my point is these drifts formed because there are miles and miles of land in Iowa that has very little to no breaks for that wind.  When the particulates - both snow and soil - finally get slowed down by a few trees, bushes and tall grasses, they land.

And pile up.

The picture above gives you a good case study.  The area to the north of Valhalla has a bush line at the property edge.  The land between the bush line and the high tunnel has some tall (ish) grass.  It is not bare ground.  You can see white snow that probably gives me evidence that our farm likely got about 3 inches of snow, maybe four during that storm.

But then you look at the drift that formed nearer the bushes and you see the snirt.  The drift here is about five feet tall and gets taller as you move away from the picture, probably getting to eight feet at the far end. 

You see, the land at our farm is capturing much of its snow, despite the wind.  And, I think that's great because we want to replenish the soil moisture.  And snow, water filtration, freeze/unfreeze cycles are all part of the natural processes we rely on to help keep our soil healthy.

And we're also importing a fair amount of snow and dirt because others are refusing delivery of their snow.  Take a good look around at the corn and soybean fields and you will find very little snow there.

I watched a neighbor applying an amendment to their fields this past week and they drove heavy equipment along the edge of their field near the road entry point.  That ground is, certainly, more compacted than the rest.  By my observation, that area has lower yields.  Just by looking at it from the road, I can tell.  I would not enter their property without their permission.

I can also tell you, by observing from the road, that their worst weed pressures are along this edge of the field.  Lower production and higher costs, all in this strip at the edge of their fields.  The economics of it alone tell me that it might be wise to seek another solution.  Perhaps a grass strip?  Or a prairie strip?  Maybe allow the fenceline by the road to be something that catches the wind.

Maybe Earl Butz was mistaken and that we need to till it all up.  

Maybe I shouldn't say anything so I can keep collecting everyone else's top soil?

On Your Marks - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to the third entry of Postal History Sunday for 2023.  PHS is hosted every week on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  Everyone is welcome here, regardless of the level of knowledge and expertise you might have in postal history. 

A few people have been curious regarding the publishing schedule I maintain for these weekly entries.  Typically, I set each new effort to appear at 5:30 AM Central US Time - on a Sunday, of course.  So, if you want to bookmark one of the blogs I linked above, you can just go directly there each Sunday AM and expect to see that week's PHS after that time.  For those who prefer to be reminded that a new Postal History Sunday is available, I tend to post something on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram at some point later each Sunday, depending on how my day is going.  I also put a link in a comment on Richard Frajola's philatelists board. 

If anyone who reads these blogs feels motivated to share with others in your own circles, you may feel free to do so - there are plenty of fuzzy slippers and comfortable virtual chairs to go around.

A postal marking brings out a question

The special Christmas Postal History Sunday brought forward a question that I had not exactly considered specifically.  I had an answer almost immediately, but it had not been a question I'd put much thought or time into prior to that point.

I see postal markings as one part of the equation that makes up the story around a given piece of mail.  Yet, I have to admit that I do not always consider things from the angle of marcophily (or marcophilately), which is the study of the postmarks themselves.  A person who concentrates first on the markings for their sake might have felt these questions were worthy of immediate and undivided attention.  I, on the other hand, filed them away as a point of some interest and moved on to things like postal rates, ship sailings and an odd fascination that the addressee lived on Drury Lane (do you know the muffin man?).

It's all about each person's interests, experience and knowledge base.  Each individual may see something completely different to explore about any given object!

Before we get to the question that was sent my way, let's describe what I see when I read the cover shown above so we can all start at the same place.

This letter was mailed in Lynn, Massachusetts on November 2, 1863.  The postmaster at Lynn used hand stamps to apply two markings in red ink on the front of the envelope.  The first is a big, circular marking that reads "Lynn, Mass, Nov 2, 24 Paid."  These sorts of postal markings are often referred to as a "CDS" or "City-Date Stamp," though I have also heard people refer to it as a "Circular Date Stamp."  Either way, it's just like all sorts of names we use for things... not terribly creative, but very blunt and useful as a descriptive tool.  However, we can't keep it that easy, we must shorten it to a TLA (Three Letter Acronym) so we can confuse people who are new to the subject area!

I'm all for confusion with a dose of chaos, so CDS it is!

The other marking was applied in the same red ink at the right.  It's an oblong marking with the word "PAID."  The Lynn postmaster apparently took their job seriously when it came to letting postal workers down the line know that the 24 cents required to send a letter from the United States to the United Kingdom was considered to be covered properly by the 24 cent stamp that appears at the top right. 

Every occupation has their overachievers!  I think you'll understand why I say that as we get further into this Postal History Sunday.

The nearest exchange office was in Boston.  An exchange office was a post office that had the facilities to prepare mail to be "exchanged" with a foreign postal service.  Boston was able to exchange mail with London, England, according to the postal treaties in force between the United States and the United Kingdom in 1863.  So, not surprisingly, this marking is known as an "exchange marking."  

A US exchange marking for mail to the UK typically included 

• the name of the exchange office (Boston), 
• the date the letter was to depart (Nov 3), 
• an amount of the postage that was due to the UK (19 cents), 
• an indicator as to whether postage was paid in full or not (red color and the word paid), and 
• an indicator as to the ship that carried it (Br Pkt).  

That is one loaded marking!

But, what I hope you will observe, in case you have not already, is that the exchange office provided indicators to the foreign mail service that this letter was paid in full.  In fact, the foreign exchange office was probably MORE, not less, conversant in all of the postage rates to foreign destinations than a typical town postmaster might have been.

This last marking tells us that the letter was taken out of the mail bag at the London exchange office on November 16, 1863.  They also include the word "paid" in this exchange marking.  So, when it was eventually delivered to Mrs. Jewett at Drury Lane in London, the postal carrier would know not to ask for anything more.

There is one additional marking on the back (or verso) of this envelope that is a London post office marking.  London W.C. tells us that this went to the West Central postal district in London to be prepared for delivery at the residence on Drury Lane.  If you look at the address panel, you will see that the sender of the letter also knew this and helpfully provided "W.C." as part of the delivery address.

And now, the question...

I received an interesting inquiry from John B that read "I was surprised to see a PAID 24 handstamp from a town that was not a maritime departure point for contract mails. Are there other such towns?"

So, remember when I said I thought the postmaster at Lynn, Mass was an overachiever?  I was apparently not the only postal historian who noted that they did things different from most everyone else!

So, let me take a moment to establish a baseline for you so you can understand what we're talking about here.

Shown above is a letter that was posted in Worcester, Mass on Dec 19, 1865.  Worcester is located inland from Boston, whereas Lynn is actually northeast of Boston and is situated on the Massachusetts Bay.  Still, both are relatively close to the exchange office.

Worcester, Mass CDS (city date stamp) gives us the city and the date the item was mailed (or was processed) at the Worcester post office.  A black target was part of this marking and its purpose was to deface the postage stamp to be sure it couldn't be used a second time by persons with "nefarious intent."

Ok.  I've always wanted to include the word "nefarious" in a Postal History Sunday.  Now that I've achieved that goal, let's move on.

The markings in red are exchange office markings (Boston and London). The Worcester postal clerk apparently figured their black postmark was sufficient and they left the rest of the work to the exchange offices.  No "24 Paid" or "Paid" in an oblong shape.  No special color - just black.

Here is a letter mailed from Lowell, Mass on July 19, 1864.  Lowell is inland and to the northwest of Boston.  Once again, there are no additional markings beyond the Lowell CDS and a black marking of triangles to deface the stamp.  The Lowell postmaster left the rest of the job to the foreign mail clerks in Boston - just like the Worcester clerk.

At this point, we'll cut to the chase and simply tell you that this is the norm in the 1860s.  Unless we are looking at a foreign exchange office we do not typically see markings that illustrate the postal rate (24 cents) or declare the item "paid" like we do with the Lynn cover we started with.

An aside about marcophily

A person who was intent on studying the postmarks probably would have taken note of something with respect to the three Boston exchange markings on the covers I have shared thus far.  Actually, they might note a few things.  They might be interested in measurements (how big are these markings) among other things.  But, there is ONE difference every single person who is reading this blog should be able notice.

I'll give you a hint.  Look at the date in each of the three Boston exchange marks and I'll get back to you later!

What other towns had overachieving clerks/postmasters?

 

It just so happens that I do have another example in my own collection from another town that illustrates this same zealous approach towards marking the mail - even if the post office was not an exchange office.  

Here is a letter mailed at Providence, Rhode Island, that includes both a circular "paid" marking and a nice red "24" to go along with the 24 cent stamp at the right.  Providence typically sent their mail to the New York foreign mail exchange office - and we do see a nice red "N.York Br. Pkt Paid 19" marking down and to the left from the postage stamp.

Over the course of time, I have seen other examples with a similar set of markings from Providence on several covers.  I have also observed a combination of similar markings on letters mailed in the 1860s (and bearing a 24 cent stamp to the UK) from Lawrence and Springfield (both in Massachusetts) and Jersey City (New Jersey).

Briefly, I considered the fact that Lynn, Jersey City, and Providence could have sent their mail via boat to the exchange office to be a clue.  But, Springfield and Lawrence are both inland, which breaks the proposed pattern quickly and efficiently.

So, for the time being, until I learn more, I will stand by my assessment that some postmasters were intent on excelling at their jobs - or at least applying more postmarks on their letters.

And that's about all I have for the reasons why.

Another marking pattern

 

A few questions from Gary D about this particular cover got me started looking at a different postal marking pattern that I had internalized and not really put into words.  Gary was curious about the fancy star cancellation on the postage stamp in combination with the RED New Haven, Connecticut CDS. 

Many people who enjoy collecting stamps and postal history are attracted to some of the fancy cancellations that postal clerks used in some towns during the 1860s (and other decades).  In fact, there are whole books cataloging fancy cancellations during the mid to late 1800s.  You can read about the book by Skinner and Eno here and see how you could access the original and an updated resource.

And yes, it is thanks to people who were very interested in marcophily that such resources exist.

Getting back to the original point, I guess there was more than one way to excel at the job!  However New Haven's approach seems like a fair amount of extra work because they used two ink colors.  Red for the CDS and black for the cancellation.

This seems to be a normal pattern for New Haven when the mail was intended for a foreign destination across the Atlantic Ocean.  

image from Siegel Auction Galleries

 

Shown above is a letter that was mailed from New Haven to Shanghai, China.  The pattern is the same - a red CDS and black ink for the cancellation device.  You might notice that this time around, the star has a hole in the center.  There are a number of other examples, including this one to Prussia, that show similar black/red uses from New Haven.

 

As I stated, it seems that the New Haven CDS is red when the letter was meant to cross the Atlantic Ocean.  I have seen letters with a three cent stamp that show a black CDS  to go with the black star cancellation for destinations within the United States.  Similarly, I noted a letter to Aspinwall (Panama) where both the CDS and star cancellation were in black ink.  But, I will not make a claim that this is absolutely the case - that might be job for a marcophilest!

 

To add fuel to that particular fire, here is a letter mailed from Pawtucket, Rhode Island, in 1867.  Once again, the CDS is in red, but the cancellation marking on the stamp is in black ink. I have a suspicion that several towns followed a protocol where trans-Atlantic letters acquired a red CDS, while the cancellation marking was applied with black ink.

 

The question is this - what will I do with that suspicion?  The fields of postal history, marcophily, and philately have pages upon pages of articles and resources.  It is possible (and even likely) that others that have explored this topic already and I just have yet to discover their research and their conclusions.  So, we shall see where my own motivation ultimately takes me.

For now, we will be content that the subject area has plenty of room for continued growth and exploration.  More questions to ask.  More answers to seek.

More to learn!

 

And speaking of more to learn - did you figure out the difference between the Boston exchange markings in our first three covers? Look at the order of the month and date.  The second cover puts the day before the month, while the others put the month first.

I hope you enjoyed today's read.  Have a wonderful remainder of your day and a fine week to come.

Let There Be Lights!

In 2021, we were treated to an impromptu parade in Kekaha that left us smiling.  I'm sure part of the positive vibe that came from it was the simple fact that it WAS impromptu and it WAS for the locals in the town.  There was a good bit of joyfulness and plenty of Aloha that could be felt, even if we were NOT locals.

Since we were fortunate to be able to visit the west side of Kauai again over the holidays in 2022, we made a point to get to the official Waimea Light Parade.  For those who do not know, Waimea is the next town to the east from Kekaha.  

For the parade to happen, the road into town was closed starting at 5pm and was not going to be opened until much later that night (concerts follow the parade).  So we had to make a decision.  Do we go into town early and hope to find a parking spot - and then stay for the duration?  Or do we park outside of town and walk in?

Since we were still recovering a bit from the travel to the island of Kauai, we opted for the latter - and that's how Tammy got one of her first walks in during the trip.  

The Waimea Lights Parade is a popular local event.  People living on the West side bring their keiki (children) for the parade.  The parade emcees made it a point to remind everyone to watch their keiki when the vehicles came down the road.  Then, they also reminded us that we should watch all keiki and do something if a child is about to dash in front of a vehicle because the COMMUNITY takes responsibility to for the safety of its children.

I took specific note of the fact that treats were not thrown from parade floats into a scrum of waiting children - a practice that always bothered me because it favored those kids that were willing to push others aside to grab all they could.  Instead, treats were handed directly to the children by individuals walking alongside the floats.  

It was friendlier.  It was kinder.  It meant something more.  And, I liked it.

The town businesses and the park were also lit up.  There were some food vendors as well.  And, of course, there was a stage set up for the music.  The layout clearly favored those who were familiar with the town and the event itself.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with that at all.  It was refreshing to be allowed to participate in this local festival that was not catering to tourists.

It felt very much like many of the town festivals we celebrate in Iowa during the summer months.  If maybe a bit more... somehow.  

Many of the "floats" were service vehicles or work vehicles that had lights strung all around them.  There were boats on trailers, backhoes on trailers, and, of course, trailers that had a specifically designed float.  

The high school marching band performed and the state champion football team was loudly cheered.  There were people popping wheelies on bicycles that had lights on their tires.  There was a group of Volkswagon Beetles and Vans that were lit up and cruising along.  A couple of floats used a combination smoke or mist machine with a bubble machine to good effect with colored lights shining through them.

We did miss seeing the septic pumping truck that ran the streets of Kekaha last year.  Maybe they didn't enter the parade this time around?  Or maybe there is a counter-culture parade that just lights up their vehicles and drive around when they want to.  If anyone would do it, it would be the people charged with having to pump out septic systems, wouldn't it?  A job that is really necessary, but so few are willing to do it.  It takes a special person and I suspect they develop a special sense of humor.

As with all things, there were a couple of floats that were a bit annoying for various reasons.  But, it takes a variety of people to make a community.  Perhaps there were many who appreciated them even when we did not?  It doesn't matter in the end, because the feeling of the whole was positive.

And we enjoyed seeing it.

To the community on the West Side - Mahalo!

We appreciated the chance to celebrate with you.

Sunrise, Sunset

The sun comes up in the morning and it goes down at night.  Or, if you prefer, the good Earth spins on its axis, rolling so that our part of the world sees the sun each day and the absence of sun each night.

In the morning, as the sun rises, we have the opportunity to wake up to something special and every evening there is a chance to reflect on a day well-lived as the sun sets. 

Not every day has a start that brings grand anticipation, nor is every night begun with a glorious conclusion to the day that has been.  This is true for sunrise and sunset, just as it is for each day we live our lives.  Sometimes, we just aren't ready for what is coming our way.  The sun pops up from behind the trees or the buildings we have in our lives and we barely notice.   

There are days when we're just as happy to see the sun setting and the only glory we get from it is the fact that this day, at least, is no longer a problem for us to solve.  Though, it may feel like the problems of that particular day will live on.

There are days when the clouds lay thick and heavy over our world and we wonder if the sun is even there.  Then, there are days like this, where the clouds only accentuate the beauty of the day to come - or the day that was.

On those days when the sun is hidden from us, we can look in our memories for those days when it wasn't.  Or, we can anticipate its reappearance - facing ourselves west or east, whichever is appropriate, to catch a glimpse of fire and gold. 

Some days begin more subtly, softly emerging and barely announcing their arrival to the rest of us.  If we are alert, we can see them.  If we pay attention, we just might find as much beauty in their muted colors as we do on those days when they loudly proclaim the changing of the guard from day to night or night to day.

There are times when a sunrise or sunset doesn't beg for our attention.  Instead, they ask us to pay attention to blue skies and white clouds.  Sometimes, they just want you to see the flowers in a different light.  

Maybe.  Just maybe, once you've seen what it is you should see, you can then be dazzled by the light show on the horizon.  Or is it possible you've seen as much as you needed to fill your cup?

Then, there are those days that start or conclude with a fanfare.  These mornings and evenings loudly proclaim that you must stop what you are doing.

And marvel at what you are witnessing.

What artist could do any better than this?  Or maybe we aren't worried about comparisons here.  Just stand, or sit, and enjoy.

Last, but certainly not least, there are those rare transitions from one time of day to the next that call for more than your attention.  They call for you to do something to remember them.  Take a picture with your mind.  Take a picture with your camera.  Sketch it.  Write music to it.  Hum your own tune that no one else will hear.  Or give thanks.

We have opportunities to cultivate awe and wonder in our lives each time the sun rises and the sun sets.  Take advantage of them when you can.  And imprint them into your soul as a reminder of beauty and joy.

Artistry in Nature - BOGFF 22

Tammy and I were talking together and solving all of the world problems, something the two of us are particularly good at - especially if we are not forced to actually test our solutions in the laboratory that is real life.  But, we do come up with some worthwhile ideas between the two of us.  Sometimes they are things we can actually implement - and sometimes they are ideas that we think might be interesting for others to try.

During our "Brief Escape" that was (gasp) actually a month ago now, we made lots of time to talk about things we don't often discuss during our often full days at the farm and with our off-farm jobs.  One of those topics was inspired by our observations at a Mississippi River overlook.  We were happily looking at the river AND enjoying seeing a couple of birds we don't see at the farm AND observing all of the insect life on some nearby goldenrod.  We also observed a family (with three-generations represented) piling out of their vehicle for the obligatory family photo op.  

Then they piled back in and drove away.

As we watched, we saw the phones coming back out as the kids found their seats - and we both thought it was a missed opportunity.

After all, if people are going to have "phones" attached to them all the time, perhaps we should be finding ways to encourage their use to learn, explore and interact.  What if the parents had challenged the kids to spend fifteen minutes and take different pictures, record different sounds or create a mini-video talking about what they were seeing?  What if, this time around, they all focused on finding SMALL things or looking at things UP CLOSE.  Like the rind of the Orangeglow watermelon I took the picture of (and that is shown at the top of this blog)?

What if - instead of texting friends constantly or watching Youtube, parents helped to set a theme to explore - using those phones as a tool for that exploration.

Today, let's explore color!  Take pictures of the sky during a sunset.  Tomorrow, let's explore textures.  The next day, let's find a new (to us) living creature and take a picture or video it.  Take the time to try to use internet resources to identify what it is and what it eats.  

If that phone has to be ubiquitous, then let's find ways to make it a more positive part of our world.  In fact, it could help us to connect to that world even more.

Tammy and I do not typically use our phones in this way, but we do use our digital camera when we go different places and sometimes when we walk about the farm.  Simply holding the camera in my hand encourages me to slow down and look for different things and different ways of LOOKING AT things.  And when I actually come up with a decent photo or recording, I am often encouraged to learn more about what I am seeing.

Then, after I see some success, I find that I get interested in exploring more and learning more.  Suddenly, I feel like I want to share some of these neat things with others.  And, it just happens we have a farm blog that allows me to do just that.

You know what?  It doesn't matter if the person wielding the phone is a kid or not.  I think we could all benefit from exercising our curiosity for the world around us a bit more.  Get out there with your phones, or cameras, or.... heck, maybe just your eyes and ears.  

Take a look around.  Cultivate your senses of awe and wonder.

And check out the Rudbeckia triloba that is growing wild out by the winter squash.  They're looking pretty good this year!

And if you want to identify some of your plant pictures, you can try using Pl@ntNet Identify or  Candide.  They both appeared to agree on this identification for the photo shown below.  Or, if you really want to use your phone, check out this list.

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What's with the BOGFF 22 in the title?  I (Rob) am giving himself a bit of a blogging break at the end of the year in hopes that it will give me space for more creativity in the future.  Rather than creating a post or two linking the "best of" blogs for the year, while continuing to put out new material, I am resubmitting what I feel were some of the best posts for 2022.  Enjoy!

Makauwehi Cave and Mahaulepu - Walk There Again

Tammy took the repaired Achilles out for its first Kauai test drive on a trail that we know fairly well - and one that is probably one of the easiest on our "walk there again" list.  The good news?  The repaired leg did well.  The bad news?  Well, since we let weather and stresses of the world stop us from getting our weekly "walk theres" in after we left the month of October, the stamina wasn't what either of us wanted it to be.

But, it's all good.  Why?  Because we got to where we wanted to go and we got back!

Proof of Tammy's mobility!

For those who do not know, most trails on Kauai have obstacles of some kind or another.  Roots, rocks and uneven surfaces abound.  Nothing on this trail that should hinder most people enough to prevent their participation.  But, they are all things we need to be aware of as Tammy builds strength and mobility.  

At least we did not have to worry too much about excessive moisture on this trail because it is located in a drier location on the island.

Most of the trails we walked this time around are maintained by the Grove Farm as part of the Makauwehi Cave Preserve.  And this section allows both horse and pedestrian traffic.  Of course, the pedestrians need to be aware that the horse traffic may leave special "presents" for us to discover every now and again.

Now I mentioned to you that the trails in Kauai can provide obstacles in the form of roots and rocks and other things.  And, since Tammy is still recovering, we are trying to be more aware of such things.  However, since Rob still likes to take pictures as they go down the trail, it might be more important for HIM to pay attention to obstacles.

Oh, hey, Tammy!  Check out this neat green moss or lichen on the trees... ooops!

Actually, trails like those found at Backbone and some of the other locations we walked in Iowa this fall have their share of obstacles too.  So, it isn't entirely different in that regard - but we do find that we have to watch our feet MORE in Kauai than we do in Iowa on the trail.  Maybe that's because we live in Iowa more weeks of the year than we have in Kauai in total.

And no, walking out to do chores for the chickens does not count, even if you do find yourself tripping over a cat in the process of doing those chores.

The ultimate goal of this walk was to get to a particular point on the coastline that we found last time we were here.  But, the process of getting there has its share of things to look at.

What we both particularly like about this area is that it has been protected, thus far, from the development that seems to overtake the beautiful places in the world.  Everybody wants to live in or visit someplace wonderful and they don't necessarily see that their presence just might make a place less wonderful.  I get that - because we like visiting these places ourselves and we are fortunate to be able to do so.

Grove Farm is also working to restore the land after its earlier history  as a sugar plantation.  I think people who have read the Genuine Faux Farm blog for a while have some idea of how I feel about any type of monoculture - and that would include a sugar plantation.  So, it is good to see real efforts to reverse the harm done to the land.  

When we walk we try to be as aware as we can be that we should walk softly and respect the world around us for what it is.  Then, maybe, all of us can continue to have opportunities to experience places like this.

We can stay on the trail and breathe in the fresh air and observe the flowering bushes and hear the wind move the grasses.  The blue sky was offset by fluffy clouds, one of which seemed determined to put a few droplets on our heads.  

And not far away is the ocean.  If we grow tired of the things of the land and the air, we can watch the water.  

I always feel better when the ocean waves.

The final destination of this walk brought us to a beach we've been to one time before.  It's not one of the hugely popular beaches with lots of people sprawled out on the sand drinking, sipping drinks with little, pink umbrellas in them.  Instead, it is a place where you can see color and watch it change as the sun moves in and out of the clouds.

It is here that Tammy and I are reminded how deep and rich the colors of nature can be.  And that's worth a lot, in my opinion.

The walk back was uneventful and, like many such walks, we were more focused on simply returning than we were on exploring and viewing.  That's not always the case - but it is when we know we walked about as far as the recovery progress says we should go, leaving enough energy to successfully and safely return. 

The next time it went even better.  But we sure did enjoy walking here again.

Rain Hat

Hāʻupu is a mountain to the West of Nawiliwili Harbor on Kauaʻi and is the tallest peak of the mountain range that bears its name.  We could view it and some of its sibling peaks from where we were staying during the first part of our visit.  

Hāʻupu has an elevation approaching 2300 feet and tops other surroundng peaks by 600 feet or more.  It was tall enough that it would, on a regular basis, catch a cloud and put on a hat whenever it desired to do so.  Also known as Black Mountain, we discovered that the presence of a hat could actually help us determine if one of Kauai's periodic showers might be possible in the Kalaheo (and perhaps Kaloa) areas.  It even gave us some clues on the weather for Nawiliwili Harbor.

As a matter of fact, there was a bit of a storm on Kauai during the early part of our visit. The west and northern parts of Kauai saw wind damage.  At our location, in the southeast, we got somewhere in the neighborhood of three inches of rain.  There was even some rare (for Kauai) thunder and lightning.

Being a large weather system, the clouds that mattered approached us from the west.  Typically, when there isn't a strong system, the prevailing pattern is for the clouds to come over the island from the north/northeast.  The moisture cools and condenses as it climbs the dormant volcano.  What's left might land as a hat on Hāʻupu, possibly indicating that there is enough left to give rain to this part of the island.

Well, with this storm system, Black Mountain gave notice to those of us to its east that the rain was coming.  The rain hat would extend down over Ha'upu's head and then cover its shoulders. 

Eventually, the entirety of the mountain would be covered.  That's when we knew the rain was imminent.  It was time to seek shelter, unless you were interested in spending time getting very damp.

There have been many times in our lives where we haven't minded being caught in the rain.  There have been several others where we DID mind, but we got caught in it anyway.  For that matter, work on the farm rarely halts when the rain comes - but it's a different matter if there is a storm that packs some lightning.  And this storm featured enough of that to make the weather-respecting farmers spend a day or so inside. 

Hāʻupu is also the name of a legendary chief on Kauai.  One story tells of a time that this person was sleeping on a mountain that overlooked the ocean channel between Oahu and Kauai.  This vantage point gave Hāʻupu the opportunity to spy any invading force from the other island and provide time to prepare.

On this particular night, Hāʻupu was awoken by the sound of many people on the water.  Thinking it might be an invading force, he tore out a great rock from the mountain face and hurled it towards the boats, landing in their center, where the chief Kaena was in his boat, surrounded by his people out for a night's fishing expedition.

Chief Kaena and many of his people died and the rock was large enough to throw sand up and create what is now Kaena Point on Oahu.

The mountain can also be seen in all its glory as it stands in the background over the Menehune Fish Ponds.  

As with all things that have great history, there are several stories related to it.  For example, Pohaku O Kauai (the Rock of Kauai) that was thrown in the story about Ha`upa, is also explained by another story.  Maui sought to use his magic hook to pull Kauai closer to Oahu and combine the islands.  However, a large rock broke away from Kauai and landed at his feet and the rest of the island remained where it was.

It is also said that the profile of a beautiful woman is carved on this mountain (Hāʻupu).  The British renamed it after their queen, but one Hawaiian story tells of Hinaiuka (or Hina), who was memorialized for winning a contest of beauty by having her imaged carved here.

And there you are, your stories of Kauai for the day.  Have a good remainder of yours!

Toto, We Weren't In Iowa

Many of you were aware that the farmers were taking a break from the farm and work for a while over the holidays, though I suspect some of you were not.  Well...

We took a break from the farm and visited one of our favorite places on this good Earth of ours.  Now you know if you didn't before.

As a part of the break, I allowed myself to "reprint" the best blogs of 2022 so there was something good for everyone to read through late December and early January.  I did manage to create new Postal History Sunday entries, but that was it.  

I recognize that I don't have to write frequent blogs like I do.  But, sometimes when you make a habit out of something, it just sort of happens.  Before you know it, there's some low-grade pressure to keep at it because... well, you expect that you should.  Over time, that pressure can build up a bit.

And, now we're back - and we have lots of stories of Kauai to tell - along with stories of the farm, and whatever else that comes to mind. 

Getting to Kauai from Iowa can be a bit of an ordeal and there is usually some decompression that has to happen during the first twenty-four hours after arrival.  As a matter of fact it takes a while for your brain to realize that...

You're not in Iowa anymore.

Of course, you have to get your brain off of travel stresses.  Gotta make that connection at such and such airport.  Did I remember the book I was reading or is it still in the pouch on the seat that was in front of me?  Boarding pass?  I need ANOTHER one of those?

And then, if you're like the two of us, the sleep patterns get messed up pretty good.  The first night here I woke up every two hours wondering if I was supposed to get up now...

How about now?

Now?  Oh, heck.  I'll just get up.

I also had to get used to sleeping with ocean wave sounds.  I woke up confused a couple of times because my brain couldn't make sense of the sound of waves.  Instead it thought there was a rain downpour going on and I needed to get up to close the windows (as I would do at the farm).  What made it worse was that sometimes there was ALSO rain.  Talk about issues in water sound identification.

Then there's the part where you realize that none of the things you are used to having readily available are anywhere nearby.  For example, what do you do when you are hungry?  Well, I just to the fridge in our kitchen and pull out the....  oh.  Wait.  That kitchen is a few thousand miles away now.  Might be a bit difficult to grab a snack from that fridge.

It doesn't take long for us to figure out where we are, because we have been here before.  And that's part of the attraction.  In some ways, it feels like Kaua'i is our second home because we have been fortunate to have been able to visit more than once prior to this.  We know a bit about how to find things and how to do things.  We even are asked occasionally "Kamaʻāina?"  Or - are you a person or child of the land?

We take it as a compliment.  But we are guests who simply are a bit more in tune with the land that is Kauai than some.  We do our best to be the best guests we can possibly be. We have a kuleana to the land and the people of Kauai and we take it seriously.

Kuleana means more than "responsibility," but that will serve for this blog post.  We have kuleana to āina (the land) and to the people that live here to be thoughtful and to act well.  

We also had kuleana for our respective jobs and our farm (and the people who graciously stayed at the farm).  We still had some work to do after we arrived.  But, it was so nice to have a beautiful environment in which to perform those duties.

And then we went to a farmers' market with the knowledge years of producing food has given us and we patronized growers who do what they do well.  And we went about the work of learning to find balance in our lives, minds and souls once again.