Thirteen Years

I got a reminder yesterday from my original blog site wishing me happy thirteenth. If nothing else, a daily blog does force one to pay attention.

Trouble is, remembering that far back is sometimes difficult. If what follows has been posted previously, my apologies.

Where kin are relations of kind, kith is relationship based on knowledge of place—the close landscape, "one's square mile,"as Griffiths writes, where each tree and neighbor and crow and fox andstone are known, not by map or guide but by heart. Kithship, then, is intimacy with the landscape in which one dwells and is entangled, a knowing of its waymarks, its fragrance, the habits of its wildlings.

Kithship crosses dimensions of knowing that bring us to intimate specificity: book learning, alert wandering, knowledge of species close to home and recognition of individuals within theses species, knowing who lives there and why, knowing who is flourishing and who is failing. Kithship enlivens and complexities kinship, and it is essential if the fullness of kinships’s wisdom is to be lived.

“Starlings, Infinity, and the Kith of Kinship”
Lyanda Fern Lynn Haupt
Kinship, Center for Humans and Nature

FURTHERMORE, I have now begun to convert my other website (the commercial one) into a repository or compendium of my stuff plus other stuff—other stuff I find valuable and interesting. It’s also supposed to be a harbor of refuge (or a secluded bower in a welcoming wood) during this odd and disturbing time. To get there, go here: Compendium

Going Sideways

Lots of air rushing north to south, but still not wintery.

Say not the Struggle nought Availeth

BY ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH

Say not the struggle nought availeth, 
     The labour and the wounds are vain, 
The enemy faints not, nor faileth, 
And as things have been they remain. 

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; 
     It may be, in yon smoke concealed, 
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
     And, but for you, possess the field. 

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking 
     Seem here no painful inch to gain, 
Far back through creeks and inlets making, 
   Comes silent, flooding in, the main. 

And not by eastern windows only, 
     When daylight comes, comes in the light, 
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly, 
     But westward, look, the land is bright.

Trying To Deal With The Fantods

Fundamental hinge point facing the nation. Here’s hoping.

Fifty robins (approximately) enjoying the remaining fruit of Vi/Anna’s NATIVE crab apple. (Photo doesn’t really show them all.)

Clematis seeds showing off their odd star-shaped seed clusters.

Ginkgo leaves (luckily a male tree, so no stinky seeds). Ancient tree with unusual fan-shaped leaves.

Gutters Cleaned…

…again. (And, I believe gutter cleaning was the topic of my first blog some November many years ago.)
Also on the pre-winter-better-get-it-done list, the three old-fashioned window screens were replaced by the three old-fashioned storm windows. (All the other windows in the house have been modernized, but we like these three old-timers, and they are not too difficult to manage.)

Witch-hazel flowering, as it does at this unusual time of year. Who pollinates?

Young Ohio buckeye done for this year but fully ready to get growing again come spring

Windrows

Most of the downed leaves have been blown into windrows. Big drifts and little drifts, everywhere you look.

Because of a wind strong enough to peel bark, it was somewhat surprising that any leaves still clung to their twigs. But, even with that incessant wind, we took our tightly leaf-packed trailer to the compost site and off-loaded it.

Windows Open…

…curtains billowing, leaves flying everywhere.

In other words, very warm and windy. Reminds me of the time our yard-work-avoiding-neighbor raked his substantial collectinon of downed leaves into the air and watched them scurry elsewhere.

Actually, as in most neighborhoods, we mostly share the leaves and don’t mind dealing with each other’s. After all, all the trees benefit all the neighborhood.

Autumn Leaves

Some trees bare, others still fully clad, but overall, a majority of deciduous foliage is on the ground.

Liriodendron tulipifera still holding on.

Locusts, maples, ashes, crabapples and others have lost all. The oaks are half bare.

While it’s best to mulch leaves, not to remove them, the presence of so many trees can leave a thick (and when wet, heavy) mat in spots. Therefore, we make a first grinding pass with the mower, compress them into the trailer, and take them to the compost center. Everything else that comes down or blows in from now on will be mulched.