June Thoughts

I haven't written in ages. We've been pretty full on here at Wild Roots since mid-June. Thought I should share some pictures and some news.

We have two great wwoofers helping out and we've been making beds and pulling weeds pretty much exclusively. It's a lot of hard work but they have been happy to do it. Can't really ask for more. We still have more seedlings than we have bed space but we're working on it. Thanks to Maggie and Piramila.


Jane and Minou have arrived. They are both having a great time. Minou caught her first mouse yesterday and we had to drag her back to the house or she would have stayed outside all day and night. Jane and I were both worried that Buddy would attack and wound her for invading his space but as usual he has surprised me. This is the cat by the way who attacked two dogs when they entered our house. Maybe her smaller stature made him feel comfortable. All she got were two hisses and now they are friends. They even eat together and Minou pushes him out of the way to get to his food. Good old Buddysatva.


I've started to get up at 6am every day. It's a nice time to be up. The weather is cool and the bugs are slow (fracking cucumber beetles). I do all my watering between 6-7 and then come in for breakfast. Frances was the one who wanted to get up early but she always sleeps in to about 8am. No problem but 6am makes for some beautiful starts to the day. I just have to have a nap around lunch or I'm beat around 8pm.

So blogging is kind of taking a back seat to all this activity. But I'll try my best to at least put up some photos.

Newfoundland

Since moving out east I've had the pleasure of reading several books by Farley Mowat. He's a good writer and deserving of his place in the Canadian Walk of Fame. Though I don't expect he'll attend the twisted ceremony, but perhaps I'm wrong.

Right now I'm finishing The New Founde Land, Mowat's tribute to Newfoundland and its people, and it turns out its ghosts. When Europeans first "discovered" Newfoundland and Labrador they might have thought they had discovered the Garden of Eden, well in a manner of speaking. Sure it lacked milk and honey but Newfoundland had possibly the most abundant wildlife in the world, surely rivaling the plains of Africa and North America.

You could literally stick your hand in the water and pull out cod. Reports from sailors stated that the sheer abundance of cod slowed their boats from passing through the water. They are almost gone today.

There were polar bears everywhere. Last night I read a dismal account from a 18th century insane European who repeatedly shot polar bears through the head for the mere sport of it. Now if a polar bear has the ill fortune of straying south in winter it is shot immediately, for public safety, as if humans matter more than polar bears.

There were millions of birds on isolated offshore islands. The great auk was the most prized, providing meat, eggs and feathers. Now they are extinct, wiped off the map by civilization.

Seals populated the winter ice around Newfoundland and Labrador in far greater numbers than we see today. At least they are still with us.

Pilot whales are estimated to have numbered some 60,000 even into the twentieth century before they became the food of mink farmers in Newfoundland. Some good news is that they are still with us, a smaller and sadder population for having met civilized humans.

I could go on.

All I can think, in this world of oil spills and climate change, that had I be born in Newfoundland before Europeans I would have looked on this abundance and thanked the earth for her generosity. And surely the First Nations of Newfoundland and Labrador did. They did not let their populations grow too high and took only what they needed and gave themselves back when their lives ended. They probably couldn't have ever foreseen an end to this Garden of Eden. These people, like the great auks, are gone now too.

There's just us civilized people left and a few species hanging on. And we'll destroy them in the end. That's what we do. All for a "higher standard of living". Not really worth it if you ask me.

Missing

People out here often ask if I miss Hamilton. Usually I reply that I miss my friends and that's certainly true. I've known lots of great people in Hamilton. People that try to make the world a better place against all odds. So I miss them always.

The other day I realized that there's another thing I miss from southern Ontario. I miss thunderstorms. I miss the energy and power of those moments. There don't seem to be many thunderstorms out east, whereas in Ontario all the hot, humid weather always seems to be ready to burst.

But tonight I was blessed with a lovely thunderstorm. Not a really loud one but I spent a bunch of time at the door just being in the moment. Good times.

I miss you!

90 Trees!

That's how many we planted. I can't believe it. Let's see if I can remember all the varieties. Random peach (good luck, I know), Sandra Rose cherry, Kristin cherry, Ulster cherry (again sweet cherry, good luck I know), Bartlett pear, Golden Russet Bosc, Beurre D'Anjou, Satsuma plum, Fortune plum, Grimes Golden apple, Lady apple (actually pink lady apple is a cross between these two varieties), Liberty apple and Nova Spy apple.

Then there were the nuts: black walnut, hazelnut, heartnut and bur oak (for the moist valley bottom where they will perhaps thrive). Thanks for some friends for sending along a gift certificate for nut trees which helped greatly. You know who you are.


We had a funny last tree planting ceremony. Frances marked the last stake, though I'm sure sure how much the efforts of men will stand against the beaming, purging sun. Thanks to Jane, Frances and Amber who supported my back in this endeavour.


What's next?

Another nap.

Spring Garden

Here are some images from our spring garden. The orchard continues to grow with the efforts of Frances, Thom and Jane. It's difficult to get a picture of trees that are still dormant and are just now budding and waking up for the season. Thanks to Jane for coming down this weekend and just planting trees (plus bringing me chocolate and tahini). Frances is also working really hard helping plant and tie the trees to the stakes. And yes, it is still chilly here; I see lots of pictures of people in Ontario walking around in t-shirts but that's still a ways away.


Lots of things have overwintered in our garden: kale, spinach, chard, leeks, turnips and radish. So it means that we're not just eating dandelions and beans this spring. Frances and I pulled the radish and turnip and made them into kraut a few days ago. I decided to try something new and made kimchi out of the turnip tops and leeks. It's fermenting away in the kitchen. Might be an interesting taste, what do you think?


Oh and last but not least I planted 18 asparagus crowns. Two have come up already and it'll be three years before we harvest asparagus regularly but then we have 20+ years of asparagus. Can't complain about that. Go perennials!

Meet Kanellos

Last night on the National, there were images of protests in Greece. One image stuck out: a line of stone throwers and in the lead a tan dog barking at the police. Then today I saw this photo essay about the dog named Kanellos. Keep up the good work Greeks!

Beautiful Moment

I just experienced a lovely moment in the garden. I have been digging holes for the almost 100 fruit trees that are due to arrive (after a long and arduous journey) tomorrow. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed with planting and then watering all these trees over the summer. And there have been no signs of wwoofers on their ways which means it's on me. I have been harbouring the thought that Dan and I went overboard buying all these trees.

Then walking back from the hole digging, I noticed a bald eagle slowly gliding over the field. I crouched down in the grass to observe his or her passage. Directly over the vegetable garden a dozen swallows (I'm not sure what species they are but they beat fast and then cruise and look like they are chasing bugs) were flying and playing. One had approached our smiling scarecrow and pecked him right in the face. It was comical.

Then the eagle passed over, happily not noticing Buddy who was with me but some distance away. As I went to stand up, a marsh hawk took off from the grass at the top of the hill and glided over the garden. It rapidly dove into the grass but alighted again and departed over the forest.

It was a lovely moment, that has temporarily driven away any blues and stress that I was feeling. I'm going to hold onto its memory as I continue to dig away all this afternoon.