Making Change

I didn't want do dig that hole in the ground, or rather — have it dug by somebody else.  I didn't want to see an ugly flat spot, denuded and bare, marking where I'll dwell.  I didn't want to drag the logs onto the pretty sunny slope or down the ailing trees.  I was hoping to leave those for the woodpeckers.  You should hear those woodpeckers!  Every morning each claims a tree with a unique sound — some higher pitched, some low — then lets loose a percussive improv of calling out and answering, each in their different tones.  It's really something to hear! 

Will they be farther away now?  Harder to hear?  That's not what I wanted.  Yet I don't want the "widowmakers" either.  That's the local name for dead branches hanging precariously from dead trees, of which there are lots this summer.

And I need a home.

I don't like changing things.  I don't like being an influence on my environment, or on people.  I was raised to weep and hide in the shadows — find a little hole somewhere and stay there.  Don't rock the boat, for heaven's sake; and better yet, be invisible.  But it appears that life is influence, and living better, influential.  To shun influence, or influencing, is to pale away, die.  So take your pick, because those are the only two options.  Take your pick.

Treetop Lost & Found?

The crows stole my car keys.  Yes, they did.  I have lost my car keys, and it's all their fault!  I placed my keys outside the tent along with several other sundry items early one morning, then zipped the door closed to remain inside awhile before walking the items to the car.

Minutes later I heard a raucous in the trees overhead, the crows squawking unusually loud and close, but I thought nothing of it, really, as I've heard their loud  commotions before.

"Oh, they've found a mouse," I thought.

Or "Oh, they're pestering a snake."

But later my keys were nowhere to be found!   Then I recalled how crows steal shiny items to decorate their nests.  Or maybe they don't think of them as decorations.  Maybe they're badges of honor, or mini-solar reflectors.  Maybe they're locator devices, helping them find their nests at night when the moonlight glances off the metal.  Who knows how a crow thinks!  But one thing is sure — they've got my keys!  What they're going to do with the attached library card, I have no idea!  And the pepper spray!  All I know is this is going to one well-armed, well-read crow, and they're already smart enough, which means I'm in big trouble here in Whisperwood and I've really got to start watching my back, because obviously THEY already ARE!!!

It HAS crossed my mind to get one of those microchips people put in dogs, attach it to a key chain I don't need, and set it outside my tent on purpose.  A-HAH!!!  Then I'll track the villains, head straight-way towards the nest of ill repute, and SPY!  Yes, and one fair morning when they're busy cackling about the airways I'll scramble to the top of that tree and retrieve my long-lost belongings, and those of other hapless victims, as well!

What treasures await, dangling from the high limb of a Loblolly Pine!  Can you imagine the loot I'll find?  Jewelry, watches, wedding rings, silver coins!  Gems from generations past lodged into the recesses of that poopy crow's nest!  Who KNOWS how long this has been going on!  They teach their young, you know.  There's a whole TREASURE TROVE of riches up there in one of those Whisperwood trees — I know it! — and it's just WAITING to be discovered! 

P.S.

I am very sad to report that I have found my keys — and pretty much where I left them.  I was very disappointed, to say the least.  I was having SO much fun conjuring crow shenanigans.  But I wouldn't put a shiny thing past them, No!  And for some reason I still can't quit thinking about that lofty treasure trove!

Building Update: Taking Shape

Saving soil for the garden.

My first step towards building my garden shed has been to pickax, rake, and shovel my way through the first six-inch layer of topsoil, roots, and rock and to wheelbarrow the soil away to a large pile by the garden.  This precious topsoil will be used in raised garden beds on the sunny slope.  With this task essentially complete I've begun to dig into the next layer of soil in order to prepare a level surface  for the foundation of the building.  Now before I say anything else I want you all to know that I did BEGIN with plans for a conventional, square structure.  BUT let's just say certain morphings occurred along the way, and now it looks like the garden shed is going to be shaped like a "B".  Yeah, that's right.  "B" for Building.  Or "B" for Barn.  Because I'm a writer, and writers need letters — BIG, BOLD letters — okay?  And because the sweat BEES (ground bees, yellow jackets, whatever) have led me into depths of wilderness communion that I do not wish to re-experience, so the garden shed must be BIG enough for my kitchen supplies so that next summer I won't go BONKERS amidst their incessant BUZZING, BOTHERSOME BALLYHOOS ever again!  But mainly it's "B"-shaped because I need to avoid BRUISING the roots of the BIG, BLACK oak tree that shades me while I work.  She's an old black oak, BURROWED through with BEETLES and ready to fall on my roof as soon as I'm able to BUILD such a thing, BUT I love her and am not cutting her down BECAUSE she is BEAUTIFUL and is enabling me to do my work even when the sun is really BLISTERING!

So, Welcome "B Abode"!  May you be filled with much joy, laughter, and BENEVOLENT BANTER!  May my life, filled to date with such inordinate, anxious striving — for work, approval, and love — be given rest, a place to "BE", simply and free, balanced and whole.

Nobody's Pussy Cat!

I THOUGHT it was a dog.  It LOOKED like a dog — medium sized, muscular, nearly the color of the leaf-strewn ground, only orangier.  It had a blocky build, squared shoulders and head, and a stubby tail about 4 or 5 inches long that wiggled some.  He, or she, was headed home, I thought, and ain't nothing sacred — a domesticated type saunterin' through my pristine wilderness plot!  But then he leapt up that tree!  A black oak.  He clamored some two or three yards off the ground and clung to the bark with glee, like he was after somethin'.  Then he somersaulted down, and repeated the whole thing again, mouth ajar and happy, like this was a game he played whenever he passed that particular spot.

I was eatin' oatmeal outside in a lawn chair, just relaxin', enjoying the mornin' air, when I realized it was a CAT I was watchin', and that it DIDN'T belong to any of the neighbors!

I gulped,  wondering "Is it really OKAY to be sitting here eating oatmeal while a very large, wild cat wanders by?"  Thankfully, after toying awhile with his favorite scratching post, he continued on his way, nonchalant and  never noting my presence at all.

Turns out it was a bobcat I saw in Whisperwood that morning.  They range widely and help control rodent populations.  Here's a great article on bobcats in Arkansas called  "Phantom of the Woodlands" if you'd like to learn more.  Don't expect ever to HEAR a bobcat.  They're silent in motion.  Look for the color of amber, moving quickly, in a line.

Breaking Ground

Photos of groundbreaking ceremonies usually show shovels thrust deeply into rich soil, but in northwestern Arkansas I knew better and pulled out the pickax instead. And the shovels are just for show anyway, of course.  You know workers will break out the backhoe as soon as the cameras are gone.  I may have to do that, as well, eventually.  But my biggest goal for this site isn't even to build a building but to RE-build ME.  Years of working behind a desk have left my muscles weak, my joints aching, bones thinning, and all rather prematurely for my age.  First and foremost I'm building my chance for the rest of my life, to have another healthy 40 years.  Additionally I want the emotional benefit that extended physically labor uniquely affords — the time allowed to breathe my own air, think my own thoughts, be with my own mental and physical energies combined, working for a good.  I saw a barn raised in a week recently.  That ain't gonna happen here.  The best way is not always the fastest or the easiest.

The building I'm making will be a garden shed, and will be my first permanent structure at Whisperwood.  It will have a pounded tire (tires crammed with soil; also called "rammed earth") foundation and straw bale walls with cob (clay and straw)  overlay.  The shed will provide  a cozy place to stay during the cold spells while I work on a larger dwelling for myself.

I'm uneasy during groundbreakings, and didn't know what to say at mine.  I hesitate to disturb the natural beauty of a place by building something new.  Like the lovely bluegrass lawn I pierced at my Ohio home while making my first garden, I say "Is it REALLY okay to dig here?"

Of course it was, and IS, and I only hope this dwelling I construct will be as productive and full of joy as was that little backyard garden years ago.

"Good Spirit.  Good Spirits.  Thank You for the ground," I said.

"And for the pickax!"

Solar Flair

A 240 Watt PW Array aims for the sky at Whisperwood.

It's so hot the TICKS are nappin'!  It's true!  Haven't had a bite out o' THEM for nigh on two weeks now!  Of course, sprinkling sulfur in the kitchen area helped immensely, but it's a fact — they aren't takin' to the heat any more n' I am.  Just when I've got the chance to stay PUT awhile and enjoy the great outdoors the temperature gauge turns to a hundred degrees and the tent gets a little asphyxiating inside!  No matter; help is on the way!  I just ordered a DC fan to run off my new solar panel which, thanks to the unrivalled expertise of a certain Jimis Damet of Rocky Grove Sun Company, is now happily installed on the very sunny slope.  How utterly TICKLED I felt on first pressing the ON button of my CD player and hearing the beautiful sounds of Robert Tree Cody's native flute wafting from the windows of my tent via the pure, unadulterated rays of the SUN.  It felt like magic!  It IS magic, and as soon as that precious fan comes in the mail, maybe I'll have a little more of that magical BREEZE comin' through the window, as well!

Spring Grape & Noodle Soup

Got grapes?  Ever ate the leaves?  There's lots of 'em growing wild in Whisperwood.  Of course, most vines snake upwards to the treetops and feed only the birds, and sprouts on the ground feed the deer, but occasionally I find a thicket of 'em just right in height for ME, and they are delicious!  Mind you I'm talking about the LEAVES; the fruit hasn't yet ripened!  The leaves have a sweet and tangy smell, especially when young, and add a lemony taste to recipes.  You can eat them raw, but they're a little tough.  Here's a soup I made that makes a wonderful, light meal on a cool spring day.  Note that any kind of noodles can be used, but I chose quinoa noodles because they are gluten free and a complete protein:

Small handful young grape leaves

About 2 cups of water

Olive oil (about a tablespoon)

Organic apple cider vinegar (about a tablespoon)

Sugar (about a teaspoon)

Pinch of rosemary

Salt and pepper to taste

Simmer above ingredients for 20 or 30 minutes.

Add some noodles; cook through.