June 5, 2013 10 a.m. Pond Report:
Blue Heron flaps southwest, low and clears the fence, lands among the willows. Never to be seen the rest of the day...bum. There's bull frogs that need eating.
June 5, 2013 2 p.m. Pond Report:
Clouds build behind the Selkirks...more aptly, the Selkirk Pine Bumps. The Selkirks proper, with snow-capped peaks loom behind. In our valley, the bumps with their spiny pines hide the bigger peaks, except one nameless crest. I will look into the name (the actual name).
|Garden Horses & View of Pond|
Last week I told Todd that I loved this dirt so much, I wanted Tonka trucks. The dirt gives beneath me, soft like an old mattress, sensual to dig in with toes, fingers, palms. My brow sweats and I streak black dirt across my forehead, wiping at it. This dirt is part of me.
|Asparagus Bean Teepes|
|Corn Block & Squash Mounds|
|MN Wild Flowers & Possibilities|
Back to digging, I pull out clumps of buried grass and weeds from earlier rototilling. We must pause at this point and recognize my husband's brief "hero status" for the chore. Brief only because he has neglected other chore requests. The churned dirt gives way easily to my digging hands as I create four short trenches and plant red corn. Who knows? I sow and wait. It's a lot like faith.
|Potted Herbs from Yokes (Sage & Curry)|
June 5, 2013 8 p.m. Pond Report:
The kitchen at Elmira Pond officially closed at 6:30 p.m. due to intense digging. Dinner commenced three miles down the road at Samuel's Store. The Blue Heron Cafe is tucked behind everything you'd expect at a gas station store. Only, you wouldn't expect this scratch-cooking cafe with it's juicy jalapeno burgers, beer-batterd calamari and Saturday night prime rib. The best.
On the way I spy Blue Heron still hiding in the willows. On the way back, one German Short-haired Pointer escapes the car unleashed and chases the goose family into the pond. Geese are fine, honking in irritation. Dog is wet, irritating her human companions. Dog is smiling.
June 5, 2013 11 p.m. Pond Report:
Five really bad tuba players honk, grunt and bellow in mating desperation. This is not a sound I dig.