Iliau - Walk There Again

We're going to continue with our Walk There Again Wednesdays by sharing yet another Kauai walk, of which there were several.  For those who are curious as to why we waited to share them until we returned - there are a several reasons.  One is so we can relive things like this after our return to colder climes. Another is because we didn't want to advertise too much that we were away from the farm.  And last is the fact that Rob was trying to give himself a blogging break as part of the overall break the two of us were taking - that's why he shared his favorite 2022 blogs with you during that time.

We took a number of shorter walks early in our trip that probably added up to a fair number of steps for the day, but the one that qualifies most as a "walk there again" post would be the Iliau Nature Loop Trail in the Waimea Canyon State Park.  The loop is named for the native plant, Iliau, that is shown above.  These plants take as much as seven years before they bloom, and once they do, the plant dies.  We saw none actively blooming on the walk (they typically bloom later in the year - May, June or July), but we did see a few dead stalks that were clearly Iliau that had displayed their blooms and perished after.

Tammy and I have this thing for finding waterfalls.  I don't know where this infatuation came from, but we love to pick out evidence of distant water features. So, needless to say, we were pretty happy to find a significant waterfall straight ahead as we entered Iliau.  

This waterfall is the Wai`alae Falls and we actually talked about in a blog about a week ago.  So, you can go there and learn more about it!

We are both very happy to look at the Waimea Canyon for as long as anyone will let us.  So, our walk was interrupted many times while we just stood and stared - a bit awestruck - by the views. It's not good for loosening up the leg muscles or getting some cardio exercise in, but it's good for the soul.

The last time we visited Iliau, it was very cloudy and there was plenty of rain.  We could not consistently see the canyon, so it was easier to just do the walking.  That's probably why, on this day, we stopped TWICE at Iliau and walked the loop each time.  Once in the morning and once in the afternoon.  It's pretty amazing how different the colors look in different lighting.

Based on our observations, the majority of people don't even take the walk.  They go to the entrance, take a few pictures, and then leave.  The rest will typically take a walk around the loop and stop at the overlook points and take their pictures.  Then, there are people like the two of us.  We appreciate the canyon views.  We appreciate the walk.  And, we appreciate the native plants and occasional wildlife we can observe.

There are also the rugged hikers that use Iliau as an entrance to the Kukui Trail, that will lead all the way down the canyon to the Waimea River.  We both might have wanted to count ourselves among them - but repaired Achilles tendons say "no, not this time." Maybe there will be a next time when we can?  I suspect we will need to dedicate ourselves to some rehab and conditioning if want that to happen.

The Koa trees on the island can be found in all sizes.  The wood was once used to make wa'a (outrigger canoes) and these trees are among the largest on the islands with some reaching over 100 feet in height.

We found the trail was littered with Koa seedpods and I am now wondering why I did not take a picture of some of them.  Then I remembered I had taken a picture of them, but they are with the files for another walk. The leaves are rigid and shaped a bit like a sickle.  

In the native language, koa could be translated to "brave, bold and fearless."  After seeing some of the larger koa trees on our Kauai walks, we understand a bit better what "koa" might mean without having to translate the word into English.

A koa is a bold and self-assured tree.  It isn't too worried that it grow a certain way to please others.  It grows as it needs to or as it wants to.  

I have to admit that, at this point, I am still trying to make a space in my brain that readily matches the plants on Kauai with the names.  I don't have the same pattern recognition that I have for oak, maple and spruce.  But, I will happily continue to work on it - and I at least feel like I've got Koa figured out.  Sometimes it's about small victories.

If you look to the right of the picture above, there is an old flower stalk from an iliau and at its base there is a smaller, younger iliau.  But, if you look carefully, you can find many types of plants on this plateau.  There are a number of small signs on the trail that introduce you to the plants.  But, we're not always sure if the sign has kept up with the movement nature sometimes causes to happen with plants dying and new ones germinating from seed.

Usually you can see what the sign describes, but sometimes we left feeling uncertain.

Our work with pollinators on our own farm has resulted in heightened awareness when they show up elsewhere.  So, of course, when this wasp buzzed by and landed on this particular plant, I couldn't help but ask if it would let me take a picture.  

In this case, the wasp did not seem to care either way.  "You can take my picture if you must - but I sure won't work to make it any easier for you."  

And it turned its back on me.  

I still took a picture.

Every once in a while there was a little blue butterfly that zipped around, just like the Blue Azures we have on our farm.  These butterflies are endemic to the island and are referred to as Blackburn's Blue, Hawaiian Blue or Koa Butterfly.

I tried to get them to land for me on and off and it wasn't until late in the second walk that one seemed willing to have me take a picture. It actually sat patiently while I fumbled around to get the lens cap off and camera turned on.  How very kind!

Lichens and moss are, oddly enough, something I like to check out and take pictures of when it seems like I can frame it reasonably well.  Now, ask me how often that happens...    Let's just say, not often.

Lichen often have, in my opinion, interesting shapes and colors.  The fact that they play an important role in our ecosystems is an added bonus.  

"Lichens are a complex life form that is a symbiotic partnership of two separate organisms, a fungus and an alga. The dominant partner is the fungus, which gives the lichen the majority of its characteristics, from its thallus shape to its fruiting bodies. The alga can be either a green alga or a blue-green alga, otherwise known as cyanobacteria. Many lichens will have both types of algae." quoted from US Forest Service site 12/23/22

One of the many services lichen performs is that they clean our air of particulates.  They also provide materials for birds to make their nests.  They provide food and habitat for other species.  

All in all, I think they're pretty cool.

There were some different grasses on the Iliau Nature Loop as well.  There were several stands of Kawelu.  I admit that I was not initially certain of the identification until our second walk.  Then, things started to solidify a bit more.  

Repetitions and learning can be your friend!

The Iliau Nature Loop might be one of the best short walks we've taken on Kauai.  It's got incredible views and plenty to look at as you walk on the trails.  It even got Tammy to take extra effort in the farmer selfie we participated in at the end of our second Iliau walk for the day.

Perhaps the best thing I took away from the walk was increased appreciation for the broad range of plants that are native or endemic to Kauai.  The environment here is so diverse, it only makes sense that the plant life would follow suit.  If you are interested in learning more about native Hawaiian plants, I found this photography site to be very interesting and useful.

Thanks for reading.  I hope you have a chance in the not too distant future to appreciate some of the plant diversity wherever you happen to be.  Appreciation leads to greater care for our world and the flora and fauna around us.

Have a good day everyone!

The Farmer Yaps Some More

That durned farmer is doin' it agin, Ma!  I saw him a yappin' and a showin' them there pickchurs of hissen to another batch o' peoples.

The 2022/23 Farmer Yapping Tour has continued once we crossed the threshold of one year into another.  The end of 2022 was pretty busy and I made the mistake of thinking that it was a little less busy once we got to January and February.

I was wrong.

It all started with a presentation, with an assist from Tammy, for ISU Extension on Backyard Poultry.  The schedule was to be there for an hour and a half, where a chunk of that was intended for questions.  Two and a half hours later, we were getting ready to leave - after lots of great questions and discussion involving people with a wide range of experience with poultry.

It was a good session because I think most everyone invested themselves into the process.  That's a good thing.

The PFI Conference found me wading through a record number of attendees, going from session to session and listening a wide range of ideas and perspectives.  And, there were far more people that I knew and hoped to connect with than there was time.  But I still managed to feel as if I had made about as many connections for that time period as my poor introverted self could manage.

Just ask Tammy what I did on Sunday after the conference.

That's right.  Not much.

Today (January 24), I am given the honor of presenting some ideas that could be implemented in agricultural growing systems that would support the principles of agroecology.  Hey, if you read this soon enough, you could even join us for the event.  

Part 1 featured the authors of the report, Pesticides & Climate Change: A Vicious Cycle, which is offered in English, French and Spanish.  It's a worthwhile work that should encourage everyone that reads it to consider how an agricultural system that relies on pesticides and synthetic fertilizers contributes to a changing climate and is doomed to failure, in part, due to the changes in weather cycles.

Now, I've heard a few rumors that the farmer is also yapping at other times and spaces in the not too distant future.  One of those yapping things has him talking about... postal history?

Well, why not?  He writes Postal History Sunday, so why not talk about it too?

For those who might be curious, I'll be talking about postal history on February 1 for the Collector's Club and you can register here if you are interested.  Now, a quick warning.  This will be a "deep into the weeds" postal history presentation - so if you're up for that, give it a whirl!

I have opportunities to speak to classes at UNI and Wartburg in the coming months and will even get to speak on intercropping (a favorite topic) for the Iowa Specialty Growers Conference this year.  That gets me through early March.  

Maybe the tour will end then and I can hide on the farm for six months.

And talk to the vegetables, trees and flowers.  Or better yet, I can listen to them.

Falling Some More

In addition to looking for waterfalls in the distance, Tammy and I were also able to explore some waterfalls without requiring a telephoto lens during our recent trip to Kaua`i.  And, before I get into this blog, there have been some questions directed our way as to how long we intend to keep showing pictures and writing about this trip.  The answer is - of course - as long as we feel like sharing them and as long as I have energy to write about the trip.

How's that for a nebulous and unsatisfactory answer if you were looking for something a bit more precise?

So, back to waterfalls!

The first picture is one of Opaeka`a Falls, which can easily be viewed from an overlook just off of the road.

The background behind the falls can often be obscured by cloud cover and the most difficult thing, in my mind, with taking a picture of Opaeka`a is trying to give the image depth.  The second is trying to get my tongue and mouth to say the name of the waterfall and stream with the same name correctly.

oh pa ay kah ah

Opae`ula are a red shrimp that were apparently once abundant here, but I have not been able to determine with quick searching to see if there is a population in Opaeka`a Stream in the present time.  The full phrase or name "Opaeka`a" is approximately the same as "Red Shrimp Falls," where "ka`a" is referencing the tumbling of the waterfall itself.  In fact, once you learn that "Opaeka`a Falls" is a bit like saying "Red Shrimp Falls Falls."

But, that's really neither here nor there as far as useful explanations are concerned.  All it does is explain how my brain sometimes works (thinks it works).

 
One of the revelations on this trip for us was that the bridge between the Kuilau Ridge Trail and the Moalepe Trial (both of which we have walked and will share with you later in the blog) crosses the Opaeka`a Stream.  The sign that you see in this picture alerts hikers that they are leaving one trail and entering the other, but it does not (if I recall correctly) indicate the name of the stream.  

If it does, then I'll blame myself for being terribly unobservant.  And, at the moment I typed this, I realized I took a picture of that sign.  So, let's all take a look together!

Ok, maybe I can be forgiven for not knowing this geographical tidbit of knowledge.  And score one for knowing how to read maps of varying types!

This, of course, likely raises a question for some of those reading this blog.  

Why in the world do you bother taking the time to snap pictures of SIGNS?!?  

Well, it's simple really.  First, the event of digital cameras takes away a great deal of the expense that used to come with picture taking.  When you had to develop film, you would consider the wisdom of each and every time you hit the button to capture an image.  Now, you can just keep taking shots until the memory card is full and look later to see if you got lucky with an image or three.  The signs are just an easy way to keep track of which photos came from where.

Of course, we also visited Waipo'o Falls in the Waimea Canyon.  This has been one of our favorite overlooks in the world since we first visited it many years ago.  We made sure to stop and enjoy this view multiple times during this trip.  In fact, it is pretty typical that we'll sit long enough that we'll cycle through many iterations of other tourists who want to get their quick photos as proof that "they were there."

It doesn't take long to figure out who the people are that might be kindred spirits when it comes to cultivating awe and wonder by viewing waterfalls and beautiful canyons.  Sometimes, we find ourselves providing helpful comments about what they can see from the viewpoint and making suggestions about how to best enjoy this beautiful part of the world.  Other times, we just step out of the way and stay silent while they make their noise and dash off to the next big thing.

Waipo`o can actually be viewed from more than one vantage point and, of course, it is more visible during the wet season and less so in the drier summer (or so we've been told).  Our first viewings this year came just after some significant rainfall, so the waterfall viewing was at its best, in our opinions.

This waterfall has a total drop of around 800 feet, if my memory serves me correctly.  The falls draw your eyes from as you view the Waimea Canyon from many of the various overlooks. 

How Did They Know? - Postal History Sunday

 Welcome to the 4th 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. 

One of the mistakes I sometimes make is I assume that because I wrote on something once before, I think I should not write on that topic once again. I call it a mistake because I am hopeful that my knowledge grows over time.  If that's the case, revisiting something becomes an excellent to integrate new learning into what I had known before - and it's a fine way to recognize and address mistakes an errors.

I also need to remind myself that very few people have read, much less remember, every prior Postal History Sunday.  In fact, some people may be joining us for the very first time!  One of the keys to looking outward towards those who might be new is to be willing to revisit some of foundational concepts every so often.  And, if you're clever, you just might through in new tidbits for those who are already comfortable with the topic.

Let's see how today's effort goes!

How did they know the postage was fully paid?

As you might guess, the answer to this question can have many different answers depending on the time and place in history.  I enjoy the study of postal history in the 1850s through the 1870s - though I have been known to explore material from other eras.  Today, I thought we'd look at some examples from the 1850s and 1860s in Europe.

The envelope shown above carried a letter from Rome to Paris in 1856.  The cost of mailing such a letter was 20 bajocchi (20 baj per 6 denari : Oct 1, 1853 - Jun 30, 1860) and there were three stamps properly paying that postage applied to the front.  That's great that I know the proper postage rate for this particular destination on that date (and now you do too!).  But, how did the person who delivered this letter know that the recipient did not have to pay anything more?

Remember - at this point in time, you also had the option to send letters UNPAID with the expectation that the recipient would pay the postage.  It really would be helpful if the carrier or clerk who delivered this item would not have to carry a big book of postage rates along with them to check to see if it was all taken care of!

In this case, I see the red box with the "P.D." and that tells me (and the carrier) that this item was "payée à destination," which translates to "paid to destination."

There is also a red circular marking applied in France.  Red ink was often code that implied an item was paid and black ink was often indicated that postage was not fully paid.  So, the first cover had a couple of clues for the postal carrier that no additional postage was due from the recipient.

I realize that it may be difficult to read what this marking says, so I thought I'd translate it here before we go to the next item:

E Pont - Pont-De-B.  May 26 1856

The "E Pont" is a reference to the Papal States in Italy or Etats Pontificaux.  At this time Catholic church maintained control over central Italy and are often referenced as either the Roman States or Papal States.  They had their own postal services and had postal agreements with other nations, such as France.  Pont de Beauvoisin (Pont-De-B) was the border town between France and Sardinia where this letter entered the French mails.

Envelopes were actually the exception, rather than the rule in the 1850s and 60s - and our first item was a small envelope.  Our next item is an example of a folded lettersheet.  An outer sheet was folded over the letter to provide a surface for addresses and postage while also protecting the contents from damage as it traveled through the mail systems.

This folded letter was mailed from Sardinia (which was in the process of unification with other Italian states) to England in 1860.  Now that I have given you a clue as to what to look for, I suspect you can find the marking that told the receiving post office in England that the postage was properly paid.

 

Yes, it isn't in red ink this time - but it is the same thing - "payée à destination."  In addition, there is a red circular marking below the P.D. that was applied in London.  This marking has the word "Paid" in the bottom of the circle.  This gave postal workers two clues for the destination post office in Market Weighton that all was well.

Countries had postal conventions where they agreed with each other HOW they would exchange mail.  Not every country had an agreement with every other country, but there were usually sufficient agreements to get mail from most every here to nearly every other there on the planet in 1860.  These agreements often dictated exactly how countries would indicate to each other that the item was properly paid or not.  Many countries in Europe agreed on "P.D." as a standard signal that an item had no postage due and many used the color red for prepayment.  But that was not always the case.

Slashes and x's

The next couple of examples are not quite items that were mailed from one country to another, but they illustrate some other ways an item was marked as 'paid.'

The item above was mailed in 1857 from Cento (near Bologna) to Rome.  At the time, both of these cities were located in the Papal States of Italy, territory under the direction of the Vatican.  The letter cost 6 bajocchi to go from Cento to Bologna to Rome and a green stamp was used to pay that postage.  The post office in Cento used a blue handstamp with the town name (Cento) to mark the stamp to show that it was recognized as paying postage - and to prevent it from being reused in the future.

The Rome office, during the 1850s and 1860s, indicated that postage was paid by putting a long diagonal slash in ink on the face of the mailed item.  It was quick.  It was fairly efficient.  And it served a purpose.  

Now, when the clerk (or carrier) handed this item off to the recipient, they could quickly and easily see that nothing more was due on delivery.   

Before we move on, some people reading this might be wondering how the postage was determined to be 6 bajocchi for this letter.  I just so happens that the internal postage rates in the Papal States can not be quickly and simply described.  So, if that particular subject interests you - try this Postal History Sunday where this cover makes another appearance.

And here is another Italian item that was sent from Modena to Mantua (Mantova).  Mantua, during this period, liked to do a full "X" marking on items that had no additional postage owed.  These "X" markings were normally big and bold - quite hard to miss!  Unfortunately, I have noticed that prepaid letters to Mantua do not always display this marking, so a postal historian cannot rely on its presence to show that a letter was paid in full.

Postal History Sunday has actually featured Mantova a couple of times.  The most recent was Return to Mantova in September last year.  The first visit occurred in August of 2021, this older blog contains a bit more historical details for the city of Mantova if you like that sort of thing.

I am frequently amazed by the interesting themes and sub-themes that emerge as I explore the stories surrounding objects of postal history.  Sometimes, I find that I am drawn, over and over, to particular locations - like Mantova.  Each time I return, I learn a bit more, which is an excellent reward as far as I am concerned.

Franco means paid

The Dutch and Germans tended to prefer "franco" to "P.D." for linguistic reasons.  This item was mailed in Rotterdam in 1866 and sent to Gladbach in Prussia (Germany).  The Dutch post office combined the handstamp to 'cancel' the stamp with the marking to indicate that postage was paid.  The boxed word "Franco" clearly defaces the stamp and is visible for the delivering clerk to see.

And, in some postal agreements, both countries were required to indicate that an item was fully paid.  This item from Amsterdam to London (1865) has the "Franco" marking on the postage stamps (applied in Amsterdam) AND the word "Paid" in the London circular marking.  As if that were not enough, the person who addressed this letter also wrote the word "paid" at the lower left.  Or, perhaps, this was written by a postal clerk - but the writing style seems to be the same as the address.  That helps me to be fairly confident that the sender wanted to emphasize the point.

And speaking of emphasis...

Sometimes, a person was pretty excited that something was fully paid.  At the bottom left, the sender wrote “all paid! franco!!”  I am not sure adding exclamation points make it any more likely that the postal people would notice it was paid enough - but I do hope at least one person who handled this item was a little bit amused.

For good measure, another exclamation mark appears at the top where the words "per Prussian closed mail" appears.  I find myself wishing the contents were still with this envelope because the outside of the envelope sure makes it seem like the enclosure must have been exciting! (!!)

How many clues on this envelope from Faribault, Minnesota (US) to Oldenburg (Germany) can you find that told the delivering clerk that it was fully paid?

 So, what would NOT paid look like?

This is a whole topic of its own, but I thought I should show at least one example.

Here is a letter that has a stamp on it, so it is possible that postage was paid.  And, there are some red markings on the cover too.   Hmmmmm.

The first clue that this item is NOT fully paid are the numerical markings on this letter.  The red "40" is actually the amount to be collected from the recipient to pay for postage.  Believe it or not, the black 'squiggle' to the right of the "40" is also a "4," which is the same amount due.

The second clue is that there is no "franco," "paid," or "P.D." anywhere to be found on this item.  

The third clue is the red boxed marking that says "affranchissement insuffisant."  This roughly translates to "insufficient postage."  

In a very real way, postal history can be a bit of a puzzle - but it is an enjoyable one that begins to make more sense as you learn the language and the rules the postal workers used to communicate.

---------------

Thank you for joining me for this Postal History Sunday.  I am always willing to accept constructive feedback and questions that will inform future "Postal History Sundays."  You can give feedback using the contact form (which will send me an email) or by leaving a comment.  If the comment form doesn't seem to be working, reload the page and that normally solves the problem. 

Have a fine remainder of your day and an excellent week to come.

Rob

Murphy the Nibster

 

Well, it is official.  Despite the Inspector's annoyance with the zippy, little orange thing on the farm, we have decided to name the kitten that adopted the Genuine Faux Farm as its home.

Please welcome...

Murphy the Nibster.  For those who don't know, "nibster" is "monster" if you happen to shift your right hand over one spot as a touch typist.  How do I know that?  Hey, it happens sometimes.  The world shifts a little and your knowledge of the location of the "home row" goes with it.

At this point, I think both Soup and the Inspector will agree that Murphy IS a Nibster (Monster).  All you have to do is look at Inspector's face in the picture above.  Yeah.  That is not full and enthusiastic acceptance for having another feline eating out of the food bowl.

Before you get worried that Murphy will be abused by Inspector, I think you've got the worry backwards.  If anything, Murphy's zippy and erratic movements encourage Inspector to keep his distance.  We'll see what happens over time.  Maybe Murphy will join the team and graduate from Nibster status.

Stay tuned!

No, Murphy does NOT want to sit still for a picture.

Big Job, Little Shovel - Faux Real Story

 

Every time we have a build-up to another Iowa Winter storm, I am reminded of one of my earlier life experiences involving a significant snow.  I certainly felt the energy of the impending storm, just like every other elementary school-aged child who attended public school in the Upper Midwest. 

It was exciting!  It was different!  There was a definite tension being put out by the adults that the children certainly tuned in on too.

And, hey!  It was SNOW!  And possibly lots of it.  Probably enough for a snow day away from school, which was always fun - even if you happened to be a kid that liked school.

Maybe our family was different from yours, but we often undertook BIGGER play projects on snow days - if you know what I mean.  After all, there would be a whole day to fill.  Instead of a few crayons and a couple of pieces of paper, every possible writing and drawing utensil and REAMS of paper would come out. Instead of a batch of Matchbox and Hotwheels cars in a corner of the living room, we'd put together a track with a loop-de-loop and spend hours running cars off the edge of the kitchen table onto that obstacle course.

And, of course, we could expect a good session outdoors in the fresh snowfall.  Snowforts.  Snowmen.  Snowballs.

Prior to this particular snowfall, I had received a kid-sized snow shovel so I could help Dad with cleaning the driveway.  I seem to recall that I had a chance to use it a bit before the "big storm."  And, I am certain I had an outsized idea as to exactly how much "help" I gave Dad cleaning the drive after a couple of dustings or lighter snows.  It felt good to have the feeling that I had contributed and it was nice to be able to do something with him.

Flush with success on prior snow shoveling exploits, I was ready for the "big time!"  So, when this storm came along, I was ready.

We gathered around the kitchen, listening to the radio and waited for the pronouncement that Newton schools had closed - and there wasn't much wait this time around.  There had been a fair amount of wind and the drifting was severe - even in town.

I seem to recall that Dad still had to get to work and he said something about doing the shoveling when he got back home.  Upon hearing that I piped in with, "I'll shovel it for you Dad!"  There was a slightly amused look that passed between my parents, but I think I was given an encouraging reply.

Later that morning, I bundled myself up to perform my self-appointed task.  Our house had an attached garage that emptied in the back onto a covered patio and into the driveway in front.  My shovel was on the patio, so I went out there and pushed some of the snow off the edges of the patio and out of the way.  Then, I trotted through the garage towards the pass-through door in the front of the garage.

I opened the door.

And I looked straight into a wall of snow.  

The snow was pressed up firmly against the door and held in place when I opened the door.  As I looked up, the pile more than doubled my own height.  In fact, there was only a small sliver of light where the anemic sun shone through a tiny gap between the snow and the top of the door frame.

Now what?

Having minimal snow moving experience, I acted on the only solution that immediately came to mind.  I took one shovel-full at a time through the garage out to the patio and then threw that snow as best I could into the back yard.  If any snow fell off my shovel in the process, I would return to clean it up.  After a every couple trips I would stop and stare, with growing dismay, at the snow wall that didn't seem like it was changing all that much.

After a while, some of the snow fell into the garage (not a surprise really) and I worked on taking that snow through the garage, out to the patio and into the yard.  But, my level of dismay and consternation only grew with each trip.  Almost as if the pile of worry was trying to catch up with the pile of snow.  You, see, the image in my mind told me the snow was that deep ALL THE WAY to the end of the driveway.

How was I going to succeed at a task that big?

Eventually, my Mom suggested that I had done enough and I believe I was all too willing to believe her.  The shovel got pushed into the pile of snow near the garage door and I went inside.  Relieved to have had the responsibility taken from me.

When Dad came home that night, he was greeted by the image of a tiny shovel, poking forlornly - and maybe a bit defiantly - out of the snow pile by the garage door.  It turns out that the wind had really stacked the snow up on that side of the house and garage.  It's entirely possible if I had allowed myself to just be a kid and barrel into the pile a few times I would have found an escape through the door and pushed the snow away form the house more effectively than I had with the whole effort with a shovel.

But, it was a matter of pride.  I said I would SHOVEL that snow.  

So, I did.  No cheating.  No shortcuts.  Every bit of snow that DID get moved was moved via SHOVEL.

Sometimes we measure our success in different ways.  Today, I consider this effort a success because I gave my Dad a real laugh.  And I got a good story out of it.

Farms Need Wild Spaces - BOGFF 22

 

I have been watching, on and off throughout the last few weeks, as one of our neighbors methodically removes all of the bushes and small trees that populate a fence line between their field and another neighbor’s field.  One side of the fence has been planted to field corn every year since 2010, and the other alternates between corn and soybeans.  By removing the woody perennials between the two fields, they might each get another row or two of field crop.  But, I find myself doubting the wisdom of this effort.

When did it become imperative that we put every scrap of land into service for personal gain?  Why is it so difficult to leave even these small parcels of habitat available to wildlife?

Gateway to nowhere  

There is a gate that once held a position of prominence on our farm during the days when there were more pigs than chickens and others worked the land that is now under our care.  Today, a gate post holds up one side of the gate and a tree holds up the other.  The tree, being the obstinate sort, has decided it wants to be where it is and it will slowly swallow up the gate by growing around it.  It is possible that we could have removed the gate during the first couple of years of our stewardship, but there were so many other things on our 'to do' lists that this task was barely worth a mention.

Now, I usually don't take notice of the gate at all during the growing season.  Leaves and grasses hide it from my vision and it really doesn't lead to anywhere that I want to go.  Instead, it waits until the late Fall and Winter months to remind me of its presence.  When the leaves are gone and the grasses and other plants have died back, I start considering whether or not this area is due to be 'cleaned up' this year or not.  The answer, thus far, has been 'not now.'  It is possible that the answer for us might even be 'not ever.' 

Not every part of a working farm needs to be 'cleaned up' and not every gate has to 'go somewhere.'  Too many people have a tendency to believe that everything has to work for us and that it is a sin to not take advantage of every resource.  

I do not believe that the needs of the humans on the farm are, by necessity, larger, or more important, than other beings that make the farm their home.  Sometimes it is the 'messy' areas that become the most useful by providing that location where the frogs and toads can hibernate, or where the ground nesting bees can manage their colony with minimal disturbance.

Does this gate do anything in particular to provide habitat?  Oddly enough, it does.  The gate will not open the way it is.  Which means the humans don't go behind it without significant effort.  The farmers put up fences to exclude pests from getting at the hens or the broccoli.  Well, here is a case where a fence is being used to keep the pesky farmers out.  In a weird way, I actually find that refreshing. 

Wild places have a place on farms

Fence lines are fast becoming a thing of the past, as we continue to support the consolidation of farms into larger, corporate structures — and as we push the narrative that the only things that matter are yield per acre and acres in production.

It was just last winter that I watched a flock of a dozen Cardinals flitting around in the cover this particular fence row provided.  Flying gems that would then head over to our farm to partake in the dried berries in some of our bush lines and then back again as part of their daily routine.

I grieve a little bit every time I see another fence row flattened.  These borders have value — just like that gate on our farm.  They are reminders that the ‘wild’ places that are part of our farmscape have a purpose and that every purpose does not have to serve us.

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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!

Keonelona Bay / Mahaulepu - Walk There Again

Welcome to "Walk There Again Wednesdays!"   Since we have a batch of them to share I thought it might be fun to put them out on a particular day of the week.  And, maybe, it will motivate us to get some other walks in as well?  It would be good if it did!

After a couple of days in Kauai where we did not take a hike, but instead visited farmers' markets, attended Christmas light festivals and visited an art festival, we did get ourselves back on the trail.  Part of the reason for the hiatus was weather related.  The entire island got some rain, including the drier west and south sides.   Since we were located in the southeast corner, we did not see much of the wind that resulted in damage at Koke'e Park and other locations.

More proof of mobility!

This time around, Tammy and I made sure to get up early so we could arrive at Shipwreck Beach on Keonelona Bay before many others got there.  This is the west entry point for the Mahaulepu Trail.  If that sounds familiar, we walked the east end of the trail earlier on the trip, starting at the Makauwehi Cave Preserve.

This end of the trail provides the option of walking on the bluffs that are next to the ocean or walking a little further inland under the shelter of trees.  We tend to like to walk out by the water early so we can take advantage of the trees on the return trip and cool down a bit.

This trail feels like it provides us with opportunities for all kinds of pictures. The obvious photos include something of everything that you can see while you are there.  The colors can be very dramatic depending on whether the sun is obstructed by some clouds or fully unhindered.

In fact, I think one of the things that draws us to Kauai is the richness of the colors.  And, it's not that the colors are bright.  Instead, the colors are deep and the colors are complex.  They aren't garish and they are perfectly natural.  It's just nature with the volume turned up a bit. 

There were still some scattered showers rolling over the island on their way to the ocean.  The good news is we only experienced light sprinkles on this walk - which really didn't bother us at all.  The heavier rain waited until it got over the large body of water, also known as the Pacific Ocean.

"Here," the clouds said, "it looks like you need a little bit more water.  You're looking kind of dry today."  Almost like a grandmother telling her grandchildren that they are so thin and they must eat more.  It didn't matter that they weren't thin or starving, just like it didn't matter that the Pacific Ocean was not in need of the extra water.

One of the neat things about Hawaii is that it does rain fairly frequently during the winter months.  But, it seems like it is usually scattered, so the sun is available to paint the sky with a rainbow.  

I think it became clearer to me why you can see a rainbow as a promise - thanks to Tammy pointing out that the presence of rainbow requires the presence of some sunshine and clear sky.  You see, a rainbow is a promise that works in whichever way you need it to work.  If you are in need of rain, the rainbow promises that there is some nearby and that it could come your way.  If you need clear skies, the rainbow reminds you to look behind you, because you can probably find the sun there.

The obvious pictures to take on this trail, as I said before, are the ones that show the contrast of jagged rocks with the tenacious plants clinging to sparse soil against the ocean with its wide range of blues, greens and grays.  It's actually pretty difficult to take a bad picture of something like that.  But, it is, I think, even more difficult to take one that fully exhibits how great that place really is.

The combination of the rounded horizon line in the ocean and the uneven footing often presents a challenge for keeping the image leveled.  More often than not, I found I was off just a little bit and it looks like the ocean is going to have to drain off to the left or right of the image I've collected.

Hence the reason I am happy about the development of digital cameras.  Take the shot... take lots of shots... and hope a few of them make you happy.

I was particularly intrigued by the roots sticking up out of the sand on the bluffs.  I mentioned those tenacious trees and bushes to you earlier.  Well, here is some of the reason they don't just go rolling off with the prevailing winds that blow in from the ocean.  

The roots snake in and out of the soil... if you can call this sandy stuff soil. As an Iowa farmer who is used to deep, rich, dark soil, it can be difficult to reconcile oneself with other soil types.  Even so, the visual textures were interesting, created by erosion over time from persistent winds and rain.

The strong winds tend to prune trees and bushes so they are lopsided.  Lower to the ground on the windward side and higher on the leeward.  The branches getting broken off on the front and growing longer in the back.   

Sometimes tenacity requires the knowledge of what battles one can win and which ones aren't worth expending the energy on.  These trees and bushes make themselves a bit more streamlined so they can keep living here.  It doesn't matter if they're symmetrical or horticultural specimens of perfect, and thus unnatural, beauty.  What they are is even more beautiful than the perfect specimen.  They are survivors.  They thrive because they have learned how to live where they are planted. 

Sometimes, even the base of the plant and its largest roots are exposed as the soil is washed and blown away.  Yet, the plant continues to live.  It's an image of hidden strength exposed.

Perhaps it isn't easy to see in the picture shown above.  So, you'll just have to take the words with the image.  I could have, if I wanted to, crawled under the roots of this bush/tree and sought some shade there.  Yet, when I touched the roots that were as thick as my arms I could not move them, even if I wanted to.  And to be truthful, I did not want to move them.  I gave them a cursory light push to judge their sturdiness.  Then, I moved on, not wanting to add on to the plant's trials.

I thought about taking many more pictures (digital camera, remember?).  But, the battery decided I had done enough.  That's the point when I realized the back up battery was happily ensconced in the charger back where we were staying.  Alas!

But, that's ok.  We were able to take a farmer-selfie before the battery quit on us.  Our shadow is all we endeavor to leave as an imprint of our visit to the Mahaulepu Trail.  But, the trail and its surroundings left a deep impression on us.

Finding Falls

Tammy and I enjoy the outdoors.  Now, we may not be as "outdoorsy" as many people because we're not fond of roughing it as many people are.  I suspect part of it is because we have had many years on the farm where getting muddy, dirty, sweaty and rain-soaked is/was part of the job description.  You see, we like to take our walks or hikes and then be able to clean up and sleep somewhere a bit less challenging because we don't necessarily want our recreational time to be too similar to work time

And, let's face it, after two major surgeries over the past two years (one each), we weren't going to do a super-challenging hike. Remember,this was supposed to be a positive experience, not an event where we might need emergency services to get out of it.

We do love the beautiful things we can see and observe in the natural world and one of our favorite natural phenomena are waterfalls.  In fact, there is one right in the middle of the picture shown above.

And this is more what you would see with the naked eye, rather than a telephoto lens on a camera.  There had been a fair amount of rainfall in the days just prior to our walk on the Iliau Nature Loop, so this waterfall was even more visible than it might be at drier times of the year.  That means it is entirely possible for people to view this overlook of the Waimea Canyon and fail to see this particular feature.  This is especially true for the vast majority of people who are intent on getting their quick "selfie in front of the spectacular view" and then move on.

Tammy and I do like to take our time and absorb what we are seeing - so of course, we picked out the water fall fairly quickly.

And then fixated on it.  We were both so enamored with the idea that we had found a new (to us) waterfall that we had to learn what we could about it.

Oddly enough, it was actually more difficult than I thought it should have been to identify this particular waterfall.  It's big enough and prominent enough that I figured I shouldn't have had to spend much time looking.  Of course, now that I know what it is, finding more information has become simpler.

The Wai'alae Canyon and Stream joins the Waimea Canyon and Stream and this overlook lines up so you can see deeply into the Wai'alae Canyon and Wai'alae Falls.  I was unable to find an estimate for the drop of the main falls, but based on topographic maps, it looks like about 600, maybe 700, feet.  It's only a guess - but it is a sizable falls.  And it can be pretty amazing, even from a distance when it is full.

For those who would like to see a video of the falls from a helicopter, you can go here for some stock video footage.  

As we stood, admiring the world around us, we actually identified two more waterfalls in the landscape across from us.  Out came the telephoto as I tried to capture "good enough" images that I might be able to blow up and explore further.  Can you see them?

Both falls were to the right (south) of Wai`alae Falls.  One of them is located in the left half of the picture above and is probably more of a cascading series of falls.  The second is on the right half of the screen and is partly obscured by a ridge that stood between us and our vantage point.

Here's the one at the left.  It is, as I said, more of a series of waterfalls.  Or just a river that has vertical challenges it must conquer.  We did some looking at various topographical maps and came up with the Loli River, which has several unnamed waterfalls - at least according to those maps.

I think Tammy and I both saw this one at about the same time.  From a distance, I have to admit that they do not look like much to the naked eye.  It takes a little eye training to recognize the tell-tale silvery-white that indicates to us that there is falling water at that location.  It sure didn't hurt to have some sunshine during this particular waterfall hunt.

The one on the right is a bit harder to see unless you are looking for it.  It is in the middle of the photo shown above.  You can see a cut in the canyon wall that is behind a ridge that obscures much of a our view of the Hihinui Falls.  

While hiking to these locations is unlikely for us at any point in our future, we were still able to explore them by combining our own walk on the Iliau Nature Loop, our willingness to be still and observe, our pictures and the interest in seeking out knowledge about the things we observed.  

In the process of our hunt for information, we located this panoramic photo by someone named Mike.  The same person also shares a photo of Hihinui Falls.   

In any event, Kaua`i provides people like us multiple opportunities to view waterfalls.  Some are made easy to view because overlooks have been constructed to facilitate their viewing.  Others, can only be viewed from a distance unless you are willing to pay to get in a helicopter or perhaps go on a tougher backpacking trip.  The two of us have been fortunate to view several of Kaua`i's waterfalls and to photograph them.  And now, we get to share some of what we learned.

More waterfalls in upcoming weeks on the blog!