Epic Beautification 1

                                   

Being a chronicle of the efforts of one medium-sized woman to create an exclusive, native plants only sanctuary in the Appalachian foothills of southeast Ohio. There is some hiring out, but not much.  

                        

The crisp fall days send me outdoors to work. I can't stay inside, and, squirrel-like, I feel like I have to accomplish something BIG before winter sets in. So in the third week of October, I set myself a goal to clear the road to my oil well before the Big Mow on Saturday, November 9, 2024. You see, this summer (2024) the oil and gas company that holds a lease on my oil well ( a common feature of every 40 acre parcel in my area of southeast Ohio) decided, after probably 15 years of neglect, to bulldoze and widen the service road that goes to the well. Which was a total surprise to me. I was delighted, having decided they would never again do any real maintenance on it, and it was all up to me to keep it open. The only hitch was that the dozer simply pushed all the brush over to the sides and it looked like hell. Worse, it would be a nursery for multiflora rose, which would come up like gangbusters under the protection of all the brush and fallen logs. And then I'd have as bad a mess as I started with. 

 The idea was, I'd get all the brush cleared from the bulldozing of this road, which runs along the east edge of my big meadow. I'd load it in my little wagon, pull it with the Deere tractor, and pile it on an already enormous brushpile in the meadow, just in case we might be able to burn it on Mow Day.

I knew, with the Extreme drought now going into its sixth consecutive month (we've had less than 5" of rain in six months!!) that the likelihood of being able to burn it was nil. But I still wanted to try to get the brush cut and gathered and hauled. I got serious about it on October 27, my first full day of clearing. It began to sink in on me how big the job was when I looked and I had cleared maybe 200' of road after working all day. First, I have to chainsaw the brush and logs down to manageable pieces. Then I load them in the wagon and pull it with my little John Deere X300 to the brushpile. I figured out that five loads is the maximum I can expect to get cut, loaded and thrown on the pile in a day of work. After five, I'm too tired to do more.

They're big loads, as this trailcam photo shows. Each one takes 1-2 hours to create and deal with.

Here's the energy expenditure of a typical day of cutting and hauling. It was pretty funny to have my Pilates and yoga app bugging me all week long to get some exercise with this going on in the background! Needless to say, yoga could wait. I did notice that, with a few months of Pilates and yoga exercise under my belt, I simply did not get sore from all this exertion. A good soak in Epsom every  night and I was good to go the next morning. It felt great to become a machine, well oiled and working! 

My best guy is always at my side, watching me carefully, for what I'm not sure--signs of distress? A fall? I don't think he'd run to the house and dial the sheriff like Lassie would (Arf! Arf! Arf!  What's that you say, Lassie? Timmy fell down the well?) but his presence is very comforting. He's helping in intangible ways, cheering me on.

I make sure to bring snacks and plenty of water for us both.

This video will give you an idea of the scale of the job as I peruse one small section of the woods road.

The only way to get it done is to do it in small bits. The bits were smaller than I'd have liked, but the mess was so much greater than I'd realized at first. In the end, I cut, piled and hauled  35 loads with my Stihl chainsaw and little Deere tractor. 

It seemed like I would never stop finding piles of brush and dead trees to deal with.

I also found a less common invasive: Euonymus alata, or burning bush. It was pretty, but I cut it down, because it doesn't belong here and is invasive.

Load after load after load, cut and hauled.

I cut five portals to the meadow along the road's length, which bring me joy, and I'm sure they delight the wildlife, too. Even if I don't decide to pop through them, having that peek of a view and the possibility of easily crossing into the  meadow lifts my heart. 

In between all the work, a delightful diversion: a grayish jumping spider, Phidippus princeps, scoots around on my tractor dash. I about died from the cute.

The saga continues in my next post.

Sycamores and Burning Bushes

It is said that Xenophon halted his army for an entire day to admire the beauty of a single sycamore tree. I think of him whenever I see the leopard camouflage of one of our loveliest native trees. What a color scheme that would be for a bedroom. Mushroom gray walls, cream trim. Why, that's the color scheme in my bedroom! Knew I got it from somewhere.

Paler as you go up.

This sycamore gets the Perseverence award. It had been a huge tree, which must have fallen and rotted out.
Only one side, the back side, was still alive, and that side sent up two very robust shoots which went on to become sturdy if unlikely looking trees. Amazing. With trees, it's hard to tell when they're really dead. If you haven't heard my NPR commentary on that subject, you can hear it here.

Walking on, we found an unusual plant on the banks of the creek. I remembered it from my childhood in Virginia--a southern thing. It's Burning Bush, Euonymus atropurpureus.
Such lovely, glowing fruits! The green twigs are distinctive, as well as their opposite arrangement. Shila and I had found a nice bower of E. obovatus the week before, in the middle of the woods. We weren't expecting either species. And each are native, which makes it that much nicer. Just goes to show you what you find when you get out.

**Many thanks to Jason Larson, Botanic Chimp Extraordinaire, for correcting my ID's!

The star of the hike was the witch hazel, all abloom. Fabulous.
The lanky flowers smell of fresh ditto paper to me. Of course only those of us old enough to have had our tests run off on a ditto machine, those of us old enough to take the still cool and moist purple-blue papers, smash them to our noses, and huff the vapors in ecstasy, will know what I mean.

*Many thanks to alert reader Wayne for explaining that mimeo machines used black ink, and were used for runs of 500 sheets or more. The heady purple-inked papers we huffed were from ditto machines, or spirit duplicators. Dude. Spirit duplicators. What a name.

The Science Chimp, caught out twice in one post! Dang!

Witch hazel. Ahhh. It takes me back to elementary school.

Chet Baker and I went out today after finishing a painting, and I finished cutting the Loop Trail so I can have rapid healing hikes all winter. Chet was gone for a very long time and when he finally answered my calls he was collarless. I had noticed that it was looking loose on him but didn't think anything of it, derr.

So when I got home I weighed him. Here's our ritual. I walk him up to the scale and say, "All four paws on, Chet!" and he carefully climbs aboard. I weigh him and cheer for him and he jumps around and then he climbs right back on again for another check. Well, he's down to 23.5 from 25.5. And I thank KatDoc for that, for helping me realize that he doesn't need several bikkits a day, or even one; for making me see that if he gets extra goodies on top he needs less kibble. He's sitting under the table, burping quietly as I write. Good dog, Chet. Good owner, Zick. Good advice, Katdoc.

Now, if only somebody would take my bikkits away.