Experimentation

Several years ago, during a cold, winter day, I grew curious about the things I could do with some of the digital images I had at my disposal.  I had some vague idea that I might be able to actually act on some creative ideas I had to promote the Genuine Faux Farm.  But, it was probably more true that I just simply didn't want to do the tasks I knew I had to do on that particular day.

Well, I know longer know if I actually got the tasks done that I needed to do.  That is lost to my memory and is a time past and those tasks, frankly, hold little consequence for how my life has turned out up to this point.  At least, that's what I tell myself now.  Maybe I neglected something that was truly pivotal and I just didn't recognize it.  I guess I'll never know.

And I'm not going to let it bother me.

The evidence of that particular day still exists in the form of a few images that I manipulated using some of the artistic filters provided by the software I was using at the time.  I do recall that there were several other pictures that I either didn't think deserved to be saved or I have since purged them because they did little for me.  A hand-full of them remain.  And I stumbled upon them as I was looking for something else.

In both of the first two images, I suspect I was playing with features that "find the edges" in the image.  These are places where color and contrast are strongest.  The edge of a roof.  The place where the sky meets the ground.  Surfaces that are reflecting the light from a sunset.

Softer edges, like the sunbeams from that sunset against the sky, or the texture of the grasses, require a bit more imagination or inspection to see them.  They are there, but they are much more subtle.

I also tried my hand at some other artistic approaches that either blurred or suppressed fine details in an image.  

One of my favorites is still this one.  The original photo was interesting, but maybe not something I want to hang on my wall as it was.  Why?  Well, the plant material was mostly burr dock and maybe some other weedy things I am not always super fond of seeing highlighted in a Genuine Faux Farm photo.  Their presence is often a reminder of farm "imperfections" I'd rather not think about while I am enjoying an image.

Now, the picture focuses on the impression of shapes.  It doesn't matter that much what sort of plants were the basis for the design.  I can just appreciate the colors, the shades and the composition of what is in front of me.

I certainly will not profess to be an expert or even proficient in this sort of - may I call it art?

I don't know enough about it to know if any of it is "good" when compared to what a professional or expert could do.  I have no idea if anyone else might enjoy any one of these.  I don't even possess the correct language to even begin to discuss relative merits or ... lack thereof.  

And yet, I actually enjoyed coming across them and viewing them once again.  So, I will call it "art" for art's sake.  I still recall feeling enjoyment during the process of creation and there is at least a little bit of pleasure in seeing them once again.  Whether they are "good" or not doesn't matter.  What matters is that I participated in the process of creation.

And that's your Saturday Genuine Faux Farm blog thoughts for a Saturday!  Have a good remainder of your day and thank you for reading.

Healthy Sense of Play

One of the things I used to enjoy when I was a kid, riding in the car on a country road, was the sense of play that was evident in some of Iowa's rural areas.  For example, I remember the "snowman" that was made out of round bales of hay at one farm.  It's a neat little trick that I have seen other farms do over the years and it never really gets old, as far as I'm concerned.  

Another farm took one of the old jugs that was used for bulk transport of milk and laid it sideways near their mailbox.  They then planted a batch of white flowers that, when they were in bloom, made it look like someone had spilled the flowers out of the container and into the ditch.  Of course, scarecrows were always a good opportunity to poke a little fun.  And who wouldn't get a laugh from the two legs and boots sticking out of the center of a large round bale - making it look like the farmer truly got caught up in their work!

Up in our "neck of the woods" we have noticed the giraffe in the field corn that is certain to elicit either a chuckle or some measure of delight in the novelty.  That giraffe has been appearing in fields in our area for the past few years and I still like seeing it.

Why?  Because it is evidence that there are still people in our world that have maintained a sense of play and a desire to share a little joy with others. 

That's why Tammy and I take note when we go by a farmstead that is often on our route to Backbone State Park.  We look for the giant parrot in a "cage" and take a little bit of joy from it each time.  And this time, we actually pulled over so we could get a picture.  Now we can share their fun and the joy we got from it - with you.

This actually means a bit more to the two of us because we had one of these bins on one of our prior homes.  We didn't stay long enough to let our own creativity loose on it.  But, to be honest, we probably would have dreamed about doing something but never found the time to follow through.  These people had the talent and made the time to make it happen.

So, if this blog should ever reach the person(s) responsible - thank you.

Stepping Back to See Better

I was curious.  If I took a look at some of the digital pictures I have in the folder labeled OctNov2013, what would I find there?  This is not an entirely facetious question because there really is no telling what sorts of images would be in any particular folder on my computer.

Of course, there are patterns.  Spring months feature a lot of young plants in trays.  September is likely to have many images of the harvest.  But, from year to year, I have not gone about collecting images with any particular plan.  Sometimes, I try to capture images of fields as they progress.  Other times, I try to discover new ways of looking at things.

And, during some of the most trying months, I find very few photos.  And thus those trying times are often allowed to fade a bit more easily with time.

This time, I noticed a few photos that documented the project of moving Eden, our smaller high tunnel from one position to the other.  Here we are, earlier in the day, with Eden in its Eastern position.  Our two lawn tractors (Biter and Beater) were out to help.  Our tractor, Durnik, can be seen in the background.  There is no Rosie (the big red tractor).  The trees near the Harvestore are much smaller.  There is no perennial planting that is now located just to the left of the lawn tractor in the foreground.

In short - things look, and feel, different in this picture than they do in the present day.

I discovered this image of the old barn in that folder as well.  I had forgotten that a wind storm had flipped the roof off and in front of the frame that September.  And all of the trees and brush that has sprung up around the old barn in the past ten years have barely made an appearance in 2013.

Now, it's not that I am completely enamored with the way things are today on the farm.  There are numerous things about both of these pictures that I wish we could have addressed and gotten to differently than we did.  But, I am okay with the increase of habitat - intentional or not - that we have had at the Genuine Faux Farm over the past ten years.

These 2013 images feel barren - and it isn't just because they were taken after the Fall leaves had fled the branches they once held on to.

Again, there are some things I really would like to "clean up" at our farm that have become "wild."  And there are wild places I would like to be a different kind of "wild."  But overall?  I still think we've been going in the right direction.  It's not perfect - but if stepping back to 2013 so I can see 2023 better leads me to the conclusion that we've done ok.   I am good with that.

Thanks for reading today!  I hope you have a fine remainder and that you have a chance to step back and get a welcome perspective.

Peaceful Visions

I read somewhere that some people find it calming to think of place and time where they felt safe, secure and at peace.  I am hopeful that everyone has some memory or experience that can help them remember these feelings.  Failing that, I can hope that those who have tumultuous lives can use their imagination effectively and create that place and time for themselves.

It shouldn't be a surprise that I often visualize scenes in the natural world even though I am fully aware that nature is not always gentle - as recent storms remind us.  Still, I dug out some pictures and thought I would share in hope that others might find something good in either the images or the words. 

Snow Muffler

The camera comes out in the winter months nearly every time we have a hoarfrost or rhyme ice.  This is especially true if we have also just had a recent snow.  

One such event happened several years ago.  We had a snow that covered things with a six-inch deep blanket of soft flakes.  There was no wind and the night brought about the hoarfrost.  The next morning was gray, with leaden, heavy skies.  No wind stirred the new snow and the hoarfrost clung to every surface it could find.

It was cold, but I really didn't feel it.  The sound of my footsteps were muffled - yet they were the loudest thing my ears detected.  It was almost as if all of nature was holding its breath.

Perhaps it was stunned to see how good it looked in this new garment.

Close Up

Bleeding Hearts were probably one of my first introductions to a perennial flower.  A very large, nice example resided on the north side of our house in Newton, Iowa.  

These plants can be very attractive plants for a good part of the season if they are placed in the right location.  When they bloom, they can certainly add a nice splash of early color to the landscape.  But, you are missing something if you don't take a moment to get up close and personal when they are in bloom.

Sometimes, I would go sit next to the plant and just observe the shape and texture of the flowers.  Each flower was incredibly soft, yet quite sturdy.  The fine details of each bloom were captivating - encouraging my mind to be at peace with the world.  If my Mom ever wondered where I went sometimes, now she knows.

Wonder

I am not sure a picture of a kitten is entirely peaceful.  And, yet, this picture of Bree as a kitten reminds me both of how small she was then and how much wonder there is in the world.  There is so much in this world to see and explore... even in your own home.  Sometimes it takes the exploration of the young to remind us how to find things that ignite curiosity and wonder.

Bree is an older cat now and is less prone to the foibles of a kitten.  Yet she can still be persuaded to imagine that the hand under the blanket is a mysterious and wondrous occurrence.  If she can be persuaded, then so can I.

Washing Away Worry

Tammy and I are both attracted to waterfalls.  Obviously, the natural beauty is part of what leads us to find and observe them.  

Waterfalls are made of constant motion and sound.  But, the consistency of that motion and sound becomes soothing if you take the time to allow it to work its magic.  Sometimes, I can imagine that water cleaning out the rubbish left by worries in my mind and crushing it at the base of the falls.  The remains are then carried downstream - banished for a time from my memories.

The Value of an Individual

I am sure anyone who knows me will not be surprised to see yet another flower here.  In this case, it is a columbine.  The flowers for these plants are wonderfully complex in their form, holding two different sets of petals that have surprisingly different shapes.  Columbines are covered by a solid flush of blooms for about ten days on our farm.  Then, they rapidly fade.

I am reminded of the beauty of the community of flowers on each plant at peak bloom, but I am also reminded of the beauty of each individual flower when I allow myself to enjoy them.

And those are some of the peaceful visions that came to me as I selected these pictures.  I hope one or more of these also speak to you.  And, if they don't, it is my wish that you are able to find your own image, your own music, and your own story that works for you.

Thank you for visiting the blog.  Have a good remainder of your day.

At the Crossroads of Spring and Winter

Yesterday was a typical "early Spring" rainy day.  There is still frost in the ground, so the puddles were bound to form more quickly as the soil resists absorbing the moisture.  The only hints of green that I was able to discern came from the moss on the oak trees.  By this time of year, even our evergreen trees are less green than they are for much of the year.  Their color has been dulled and they exhibit a bit of brown and yellow.

The grasses are not yet ready to come out of dormancy and some of the plants that have emerged are still nestled in the residue of plant matter from the past growing season.  I've noticed that daffodils and crocus have broken the surface of the ground, but they aren't quite interested in exposing themselves above the leave litter and mulch that we are keeping in place for a while yet.

We are at the crossroads between seasons.  There are still crisp, frosty days in sight.  Many of those days are certainly behind us, as this picture illustrates - but they could also still make an appearance in our future.  This is my yearly reminder to all of us that we've gotten measurable snow as late as May 4 on the farm since we have been here.

Ahead of us are also days that hold the awakening of our trees and perennial plants.  Already some of our birds are returning and speaking to us of nests, tasty insects, gentle rains and a new generation soon to arrive.  But yesterday, they were more interested in shelter than conversation.

For now, we stand at the crossroads.  It is here that things are brown, muddy and, frankly, difficult to love.  As a farmer, we often refer to this time as "mud season."  It's too early to do many things and too late to do others.  It's a crossroads that we stand at, preparing and waiting to begin our journey down the path of Spring.

The redemption for this time lies in what we can see from here.  We can still see the beauty of a hoarfrost on the trees and we can also sense the impending promise that Spring always provides.  While things may not seem attractive today, we cannot and should not miss the beauty that surrounds us at the crossroads.  This beauty comes from the great value that preparation for change has in this world.  Not every moment is glorious and invigorating.  And, just because these moments are not those things, it does not make them any less important - and any less valuable.

So, while you and I might not identify these days as our favorites, we still need to respect the process and remember that things that are important and necessary have no requirement to also be attractive to us, as human beings.  There are others on this Earth that find things beautiful that we do not, and for reasons that we can't fathom.  That's where I find value for this world at the crossroads.

Spring Migration

That's a lot of birds!

When we talk about Spring migration, people in Iowa are usually referring to the arrival of the Robin (at the farm Mar 4 this year), Red-winged Blackbird (Mar 1) and Killdeer (Feb 26).  We anticipate and take note of the waterbirds flying overhead as the wetlands thaw out.  The v-shaped formations of Canada Geese and the echoing, rattling cry of the Sandhill Cranes encourage us to think about planting seeds for this year's veggies.  

This is the time of year where I hear the commotions created by small birds that like the shelter provided by the trees and bushes on our farm.  I heard, but only saw the flitting profiles of a batch of American Tree Sparrows by the Harvestore recently.  Even the Cardinals, who never did leave the area, are singing a different tune that tells us Spring is approaching - even if the wind is pretty sharp and the temperatures could be below freezing on any given day in March.

What we rarely notice and discuss is the departure of some of the birds that have spent the cold months with us.  The Horned Larks that rarely let us get a good look at them in the first place are suddenly gone, except for a lone bird that said good-bye to us and served as our last sighting for the year on March 7th.  The Juncos are still around - at least they were yesterday - but they are clearly congregating in larger groups.  One day soon we'll only notice them for their absence.

Or maybe we won't notice they've gone at all.  After all, it's hard to prove an absence rather than presence in our world.  And, of course, our focus is usually on the Spring arrivals, not on the departures.

As we were running a few errands on Friday, March 10, we took note of small flocks of birds (about a dozen birds in each) that would wheel away as we approached - only to land somewhere not too far away.  Because we live in the country and we pay attention to birds, we knew that our less-traveled roads often feature mixed flocks of Snow Buntings and Horned Larks (and perhaps even some Longspurs).  So, we looked for some signs that might tell us who we were seeing.  Eventually, we concluded that we were seeing Snow Buntings.

And, of course, we had no camera.

But, it just so happened that we went on an errand the next day.  Since we would be going to some of the same areas, we DID bring the camera.  And, sure enough, we weren't seeing ANY Snow Buntings. So, we were resigned to the fact that they had probably moved on.

I had no illusions that I was going to get a clear picture of any of these birds.  We know they won't let us get close enough.  If we think Horned Larks are restless and skittish, Snow Buntings have them beat, in my opinion.  Besides, I don't have the kind of lens one might need to even try to get much more than a "look, it IS a Snow Bunting picture!"

But, we were hoping to at least document what we had been seeing.  And that's why we took time to try and take a bunch of pictures when we did run into the MUCH LARGER flock of Snow Buntings that announced themselves as they wheeled away on the road ahead of us.

Snow Buntings are pretty distinctive this time of year because they are now wearing their mating plumage.  The black wing-tips against the bright white feathers actually show up pretty well as they veer away from the road and the implied threat that a vehicle brings with it.

Many birds change into their mating plumage by going through a molt (growing a new set of feathers).  According to All About Birds, the Cornell Lab website, Snow Buntings rub their heads and bellies against the snow to wear off the darker coloration on the tips of their feathers, exposing the lighter, white parts.  

Ah, the things we do for love.

When you look at the photos, you can see some differences in markings.  I suspect some of that difference might have to do with gender, with the males exhibiting bolder black bands on the wings.  And, if you take a closer look, you can see the different shapes these birds take as they fly.  Sometimes the wings are stretched straight out.  Sometimes they are swept back.  And, sometimes, the bird almost takes on a bullet shape as it slices through the sky.

If you live in the country, like we do, you probably notice birds that take off from the side of the road and are simply flashes at the corner of your vision.  They are illuminated only by the edges of the beams of your vehicles headlights.  These are likely Snow Buntings and their friends, the Horned Larks, doing what they do.  For the longest time, we just referred to them as those "snow birds" we can never get a good look at.

The weather would get cold and then they would be on the road edges.  Then the weather would show signs of getting warmer and they wouldn't be there any more.  Their appearance and disappearance was almost magical.  But, their desire to remain unnoticed actually makes their magic act seem unremarkable to most people.

Actually, Snow Buntings are more magical than you know.  They have this amazing ability to disappear the moment they land.  Or, if you happen to see them, they give the impression that they are blowing leaves and snow.  Even as they take off, they can still look a bit like debris in a dust devil until they open up those wings to wheel away.

And once they do that, it's too late for you to get much of a good look at them.

Still, Tammy and I tried our best to get a look at these illusive little birds.  We pulled over on a nearby gravel road and I did my level best to simply take pictures that we could try to blow up enough to see if there were any birds in them.  The picture shown above is one such shot...

and there are LOTS of birds in that picture.  Can you see them?

No, probably not, so I selected a section and magnified it.

Ok, how about now?

There is even one bird in flight (it's blurry because it was moving).  Including that bird, I think there are nine or ten birds in just this section of the overall image.

If I blow it up further, you can probably see at least one of the birds a bit better.  There are actually five or six birds in the portion of the image shown below.

Overall, I estimate we were witnessing the gathering of a flock of Snow Buntings that was at least several hundred birds - maybe as many as one thousand in the combined flock.  And, of course, even when we couldn't see them, we could hear them.  While I don't think we heard any songs, there were plenty of calls.  You get that many birds together, someone is bound to want to say something!

Our timing was excellent.  One day we noticed small flocks and the next we witnessed the combination of those flocks.  Today, I am fairly certain we won't witness any gatherings of Snow Buntings in our area.  Unless, perhaps, a single Snow Bunting wants to approach us for a photo opportunity before it flies off to join its friends in the northward journey.

Individuals All

 

The sunlight came slanting through the trees to strike the leaves on a small shrubby plant.  From a distance, it almost looked as if someone had flicked on the switch to power a string of tiny lights that had been invisible until that moment.  The lights were on just long enough to draw attention to the bush before the sun hid itself behind some passing clouds.

A new world reveals itself as the lens of our observation gets closer.  We begin to realize that the sparkle that drew our attention was the refraction and the reflection of the sunlight as it interacts with water.  But, the sun does not make an immediate appearance so we are left to observe the tiny droplets on the fine leaves.  As we do, we start to see fine differences between each one.

One droplet has become oblong and is showing how gravity is pulling it away from its home leaf.  Another is a simple half-globe, with plenty of potential to grow larger if the smaller droplets on top of the leaf decide to slide down and join their friends in a group effort.  Some of the droplets hang from leaves, flowers or stems while others sit on top, preferring to look up rather than down.  There is even some diversity in size and shape on a individual leaves.  Proximity didn't seem to dictate perfect uniformity.

Still, each droplet has much in common with the others, clearly related - with some basic understandings about how life is.  Yet, each also appears to be unique in some way.  Individuals all. And with that individuality, each of them provide a window to a world and community that is beautiful.

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.

Trail Treasure Hunt

 

Back in September, I threw down the gauntlet - challenging myself and anyone who happens to read the GFF blog - to get people to use their phones and cameras to take different pictures of nature.  The hope was that, by doing this, we would all take a bit more time to look around us and find new textures and new perspectives.  Then perhaps we could take a moment or three and learn some new things about what we had captured in those images.

Since I do not want to be the sort of person who proposes something for other people to do without my also participating, I've tried to take up my own challenge.

Shown above is an interesting bark pattern from the base of a Shagbark Hickory tree.  I have to admit that I haven't really given this particular tree much thought over the years.  For one, most people would tend to not plant these trees in an urban setting because they are deemed to be "messy."  The bark of mature trees tends to curl off of the trunk and fall and they do produce edible nuts (that also fall to the ground).  I'm not sure when we got it into our head that natural shedding from a tree is "messy."  Probably about the point in time when we all collectively decided to keep our lawns mowed short AND when we decided we had to have a turf lawn everywhere...

On the other hand, Shagbark Hickory trees can be excellent, long-lived and sturdy shade trees.  They are native to the Midwest (including Iowa) and, unlike many trees, they seem to to like to be intermixed with other trees, like oaks, maples and pines.  And, of course, that's where we found this one and others like it.  They are frequently found in Northeast Iowa woodlands, so a trip to the Yellow River Forest or Backbone State Park will give you a chance to see them in person.

According to this site, the name "hickory" is from pawcohiccora, an Algonquian word for the oily food removed from pounded kernels steeped in boiling water and a yellow dye can be created from the inner bark of a Shagbark Hickory.

We also discovered that it is not just plants that attract the six-legged critters.  Apparently rock outcroppings at Backbone State Park provide habitat for different insects in October.  The East Lake Trail has a couple of rock benches you can use for a quick rest if you need (or want) it.  While Tammy availed herself of that opportunity, I couldn't help by take note of the Paper Wasps that were walking and buzzing around the rock face.  Then, I also noticed a few Box Elder bugs and a Lady Beetle.

Box Elder Bugs are considered to be a "nuisance bug" by many people as they like to find a warm place to over-winter - and that often means a house or other building.  Otherwise, they don't really spread disease, they don't really bite or sting, and they don't destroy desired plants.  Generally, it is simply the fact that they can find their way into small cracks to get to a place where they can survive the cold months.

The Ladybug, on the other hand, is generally appreciated... until the Asian Lady Beetle got introduced and it decided it ALSO liked to be a nuisance bug, taking a page from the Box Elder Bug's book. Based on the characteristic "M" shaped marking on the back of the head of this specimen, this is an Asian Lady Beetle.

These, and the Seven-spotted Ladybug, have very strong populations in the United States largely because vegetable farmers began purchasing ladybug populations to control aphids.  I have to admit that we considered this option at one point in time until we read how it would impact the native ladybug populations.  As a result, we accepted the slower approach and let the populations come to us.  You see, the Asian Lady Beetle and the Seven-spotted Ladybug DO eat aphids.  But, they also out-compete native populations, which means those populations are declining.

It also explains why we have so many Asian Lady Beetles on the sides of buildings (and rock faces) in the Fall.  Regardless, this is another insect population I am fine with having.  I would rather have the natives, of course.  But, I'll take the non-natives over the aphids too.

As a last offering, here's another way to look at things.  Sometimes the play of light and shadows is worth spending the time observing what goes on there.  I am not entirely sure what I was trying to capture this time around - but maybe I'll figure it out with future attempts.

It doesn't matter, because I was enjoying looking at things in different ways.  And now, I feel good that I learned some new things to supplement things I already was aware of.  Maybe you came away learning something new too?  Or, perhaps, you were mildly entertained for a few moments of your day.

I'll take that as a positive thing too.

Perseverance

I am privileged to have been able to travel with Tammy to some interesting places and I am still able to revisit some of those places with the pictures we took while we were there.  Some of the photos that mean the most to me rotate as the background images on my computer.  There are sunset pictures, flower pictures, and other neat images of the farm as well as photos of waterfalls, waves and trees.

Tree at Holman Vista in Oregon

This image was the first one selected by my computer on the morning that I wrote this blog post.  I don't know if it is a particularly good photograph based on artistic criteria, but I like it - and that's really all that matters.  It is my computer, after all.

When I see this photo I can feel myself being transported back to the moment I hit the button to preserve the image I was seeing.  The temperature was 47 degrees Fahrenheit. Tammy and I now refer to that temperature as "Oregon" since that was roughly what it was during most of our outdoor exploits while we were there.  It was cloudy most of the time with the threat of impending rain (unless it was actively raining).  

There was a strong wind at Holman Vista, where this tree was living its life.  The wind off of the Pacific was a regular occurrence and most of the older trees had shapes similar to this one - with the branches and limbs growing away from that wind.  The conditions that this tree existed in discouraged tree growth that went into the wind and it was obvious that many branches on the west-facing side had been pruned over time.  

Yet, this tree continued to live, grow - and maybe even thrive - in a difficult situation.  Clearly, this is not the shape it would have had if its life were less difficult. But, this is the shape of success.  For this tree.  In this place.

If this tree hadn't been shaped the way it was, I doubt I would have decided to take this particular photograph.  I find the tree and this image to be attractive, yet somehow bittersweet.  It is reassuring and disconcerting at the same time.  This tree encourages me and discourages me.  It teaches me the values of perseverance in the face of adversity. 

And it reminds me that we are each who we are, in part because we have persevered through the challenges our own lives have brought us.

Artistry in Nature

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.

Faded

 

Sometimes the journey is wearing.   You just keep putting one foot in front of the other for no other reason than that is what you have been doing up to this point.... putting one foot in front of the other.  The senses are dulled from a series of disappointments that just keep rolling over your spirit.  

You got too few things done that had to be done today.  Someone you respected said something that shook your confidence in them.  Another person you know is sick and another's loved-one has died.  Something that is new is broken and something that was worn, but trustworthy, is missing.  A kind offer was rejected and a request for aid went unanswered.  Passed over once, twice and forgotten after promises were made to remember.  

The leaves on the trees look tired and the plants by the side of the path are battered, not nearly so lovely as you had hoped.  Yet you keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Until...

The path turns.  A flash of the deepest blue catches your eye. Suddenly, you don't feel quite so tired and you pick up the pace.  You turn again and there it is.  Something that takes your breath away.  Something that renews you.

And you see that what you did today was enough.  You understand a person you respected better than you did before and have a chance to grow with them.  You offer solace to the grieving and those who are ill.  You find that things that are broken or are lost might be fixed or found... or ... perhaps they weren't that important after all.  You find it in you to make more kind offers and are brave enough to ask for help again when you need it.  You figure out how to forgive perceived slights and work on how you can forgive yourself for your own faults.

And the leaves on the trees have character - because they have adorned these limbs through a hot, dry period.  The plants on the side of the trail display a resilience that you can respect, because they too are doing their equivalent to putting one foot in front of the other.  

And there is beauty in the persistence they exhibit.  And hope for the bright blue ocean just around the bend.

Reflections on Water

The two of us seek out streams, waterfalls, rivers, lakes and oceans.  When we find them, we often take the time to gaze at the water, watching its movement or its stillness.  We observe the color of the water and we admire much of what is in, on are near it.  Sometimes, we are dismayed by what we see.  But usually, we find ways to be awed by what we find.

This time, we were captivated by the trees, clouds and sky - as the water portrayed them for us on its surface.  On this day, the water showed us a deeper blue and a cleaner white in the clouds than we observed when we looked up.  And it made me wonder if water was trying to show us that we still need to fine tune our ability to see the world around us.

"Look again," says the water with an inviting, quiet voice, "the world around you is more beautiful than you realize.  Take a moment and try to see it how I do."

Picture This

It is tempting to look back at the "way things were" and want to go back to a "simpler time."   Now think about that.  How often have you heard others (and maybe yourself) use those phrases.  I am not saying that we should not reflect positively on our past.  I am also NOT saying that we can't learn a lesson or two from looking at the past.

I actually agree that there are many things that we've made far more complicated than it needs to be - all in the interest of "modernization" or "moving society forward" or whatever other generic saying we use as an excuse to change how things are done.  I do tend to think we could benefit from finding a balance with doing some things the "old way" just to slow life down a bit so it isn't such a blur!

That said, let me reflect on something that has become much easier to do in recent years that would not have even been an option even a decade ago.

Tammy and I have enjoyed taking pictures of some of the beautiful places in the world we have been fortunate enough to visit.  THAT is the first thing I wanted to point out.  The event of digital cameras has opened up the door for any number of amateurs to try their hand at capturing the beauty of this world.

As a quick reminder, taking pictures with an iPhone wasn't possible until 2007.  Digital cameras that cost less than $1000 weren't available until somewhere around 2005.  Up until that point, if you wanted to take your own pictures, you would use cameras with film - and film cost money - and it cost money to develop that film.

None of this encouraged people to just take pictures because they felt creative or just wanted to.

And then, let's say you really liked one of your photos and had this wild idea that it would look good on a wall of your house or office.  Well, that was a bit of a reach for most people in the world.  Of course it was doable.  But, it was pretty much limited to the subset of people in the world who were professionals, dedicated hobbyists or someone with extra money to burn (and who knew a professional or dedicated hobbyist).

This brings me to the present day.  Not only do most people have a reasonably good camera that is part of their phone, many have digital cameras that can take pictures with very high resolution - good enough to blow that picture up to a 20" x 30" size without the details getting pixelated (blurred).

And, we have services that provide us with the opportunity to make wall art for ourselves with our own pictures without breaking the bank.  In terms of time, this has not been readily available for all that long.  In terms of importance, this is probably not the most important thing in the world either.

Yet, it is a thing that does provide people with a new opportunity to exercise creativity and decorate the spaces we reside in.  There is value in this, and I would miss it if we were to suddenly roll back the clock to the simpler time in history that we sometimes wish we could return to.

Maybe a better solution is to find ways to slow ourselves down now, so this will also be a time we look back on with fondness.  One of our approaches is to select favorite pictures of favorite places and putting them on our walls so we can stare at them for a bit - and enjoy the beauty.

Looking for Yellow Cars

I like to take pictures of nature and I like the challenge of trying to find a way to frame a picture so whatever I am observing looks its very best with the arbitrary borders a photo places on it.  I recognize that I am an amateur amateur photographer (I rely far too much on the automatic settings to make any other claim).

On the other hand, I thoroughly enjoy the work of Kip Ladage, which you can also enjoy by visiting Kip's Picture A Day.  However, since I work with words a bit more, I also like to hear what Kip has to say in Kip's Comments, which are often driven by some of the subject material in his photos.

On January 19, Kip noted that a friend of his had posted a meme that has gone around in social media a few times that starts with:

Easy to spot a yellow car when you are always thinking of a yellow car.

Kid addended this with:

Easy to see nature's beauty even when the extremes challenge your senses.  You can hide from it or you can embrace it.  You have a choice.

His photo was taken in a ditch by the road out by Sweets Marsh.  Ditches are pretty much overlooked by all of us   Ditches are often mistreated and pretty ugly.  Ditches are the last place you might look to take a photograph of nature.

And Kip's picture is beautiful.

The original meme is trying to make the point that if we are always thinking about something, we will always find it.  So, if we make bad choices about what we dwell on, it can lead to, potentially, bad things.  Kip took it the other way.  If we're looking for good things - like the beauty of nature - we can find them - even if it's just a ditch.

Well, Kip.  The amateur, amateur finds beauty in odd places too.  The picture above is ALSO a ditch, right next to a road.  Move the borders of the picture a bit and the focus on the beautiful things can be lost.

While it is important to me that I be aware of the whole picture and the whole truth - I, too, like to amplify and embrace the beauty of this world when I see it.  And, if it takes selecting the boundaries and moving them around so you see that beauty too?  I can do that.

Have a good weekend everyone!

Unfiltered

There are times when you see a picture and you wonder - exactly how much filtering or photoshopping was done to get that color?

Then there are moments where you just hope the camera will even come close to capturing the colors you see right now.

Tammy grabbed the camera to capture some vivid colors during Sunday night's sunset.  If you want the full effect - click on the image and you can see a larger version of the picture.  These ARE the colors we were seeing.

Mother Earth still has plenty of tricks up her sleeve and wondrous things she hopes we will appreciate.  Let's take the time to care for her and perhaps we can continue to reap the rewards of golden sunsets and purple clouds over waters with electric blue waves.

Or perhaps you would rather see a deep, dark blue green in the background as the waves crash and show off a little icy blue in the middle of the white foam?  

Once again, we wonder if the camera will capture the colors that are actually a bit better in person than they ever will be captured in a still shot.  And, why would I try to enhance these colors with a photo editing program anyway?  These are pretty much what we were seeing.  It really is that ....  bold.

We will also happily report that it is pleasant to walk through a tree tunnel on a path where there are no other humans at that moment in time.  But, there were some birds and dragonflies  - which made both farmers happy.

You all know how hard it is to make a farmer happy, I am guessing.  So, we'll just call it a good thing.  And, the next time the farmers try to tell you that they don't know what happy is - just tell them to think about purple sunsets lined with gold.

The Sun Sets on Another Year - December

There is still some fire left in the year, but it tends to show up only at dusk and dawn.  But, what a fire it is!  Painting the sky in so many variations on a theme.  While I know that the turning of the calendar is just a constructed event we humans have created, it comes with the weight of generations of experience.

Let us celebrate the year that has past - remembering the events that shaped us, both good and bad.  And the good Earth celebrates with us, once again with fire in the sky.

I am glad you are here, reading this blog.  And, in case you missed it, I actually endeavored to write a post for each month of this prior year.  If you are curious about how this small-scale, diversified farm operator sees the course of a year, these are a worthwhile read.  If you are another grower or agriculturist, you might find some similarities to how you feel - or maybe you will see something that contrasts with your experience.

For those who have interest, here are the other entries in this series:

• January
• February
• March
• April
• May
• June
• July
• August
• September
• October
• November

I hope you can find some good things that happened in your life during the past year.  And, if there were challenges (and I am sure there were) I hope that you were able to grow and learn from them.  But, if all you could do was survive, we can still celebrate that survival with the hope that there are good things available to us simply because we did make it through the year that has been 2021.

Exercising the Senses - November

I am not certain what it is about November days, but it seems like they tug at our senses in ways that are different than many of the other months.  January freezes your eyes shut and makes an Iowan shiver just a little when they merely think about it - that month is a bit like a like a sledge hammer that smacks you once and that's all you remember.  May is an explosion of color and smells and the sounds of birds singing - it is almost as if you put yourself right in front of the speakers for the concert and you forgot your earplugs.  But November...

The sound of dry leaves in a light breeze has a subtlety to it that still demands your attention.  And, interestingly enough, there is a smell...and a texture....  You only need one of the three and you are transported to a moment where the leaves swirl around your feet and you stand there - transfixed.

Maybe it's the air in November?  One day, the air can have a bitter hardness to it and the next can be soft, with just enough comforting warmth to invite you to stay outside just a bit longer.  But, that's not just it.  It's the fact that a person can actually feel the subtle difference in the air each day in November.

Perhaps the absence of some of the other noises that have been clamoring for our attention in the prior months has something to do with it?  There aren't many birds singing their songs and most of the waterfowl that flew overhead in September and October are no longer interested in passing over our farm.  The leaves are down from all but the most stubborn oaks now, so the wind makes a different sound when it passes through the trees.  There is less traffic in the row crop fields and even our vegetable/poultry farm is a bit less busy.  We find ourselves noticing the songs of things we don't hear during other months.

Or, maybe it's the simple fact that sunshine provides a bit more emotional value in November than it did in the months just prior to it?  The cats in the house seek out the sun-puddles that move slowly across the room.  A day that reaches the 40s with a bit of sun and little wind provides us with a treat that is hard to dislike.

Then, a day comes along that announces itself with heavy clouds and a biting wind.  The chill can reach your bones if you aren't prepared for it.  The time for subtlety is over and we get a preview of what Old Man Wynter likes to bask in.  Maybe a few snowflakes fly by on the edge of our vision as we pull up the hood and wish we had our warmer gloves on.

In the end, November is like all of the other months.  There is so much to experience, as long as we let ourselves do so.