Earth Day, 2010...sort of

Thistle in the Big Field

The fields were partially bush-hogged a few weeks ago.  My long-term vision of the property is a semi-managed field and forest.  I want to maintain some pasture land that obviously attracts a wide variety creatures while allowing some areas to return forest.  Cymande talks about a small wildflower operation. 

  

Toad in the Pine Straw

I'm not sure what to say about this friendly toad.  He seems to enjoy living at the base of a fig tree.

Ponte Vedra Beach

Cymande had a brillant idea...a trip to the beach.  It was a perfect day of cool ocean breezes and warm sun.  Cymande sat in the small tidal pool and watched the jelly fish and crabs float by and out to sea. 

Unidentified Crab

This little crab was sitting contently on the edge of a tidal pool.  We disturbed him briefly and then he happily floated away as the ocean advanced.  High tide drove us to seek higher ground and some lunch.

Not Good Harbor Beach

We talked about a day at Good Harbor versus a day at Ponte Vedra.  Each has a unique personality.  We're don't remember seeing an abundance of beach umbrellas in Gloucester.  My memory of Good Harbor is an eight-hour blistering shelterless day surrounded by people smoking and/or blasting music (I'm trying not to criticize, but smoking at the beach? Honestly...Cymande feels this is a cultural issue, but despises it too.)  Cymande has very fond memories of Good Harbor.  Ponte Vedra has the blistering sun and the occasional smoker, and less music.  We still proudly display our expired Gloucester resident sticker that allowed free parking at Good Harbor.  Ponte Vedra = 3 bucks.  

     

Gopher Tortoise

We have quite a few gopher tortoises on our property.  Charles spotted this one as we drove home from the beach.  I ran out to the field to take her picture and I was shocked by the speed at which she was moving.  She was enjoying a nice meal of grass which you can see sticking out of her mouth.

Bullfrog in Swilly River

I think it's amusing that this bullfrog and several others live in our used bathwater.        

Pink Spring Cleaning

Morning Fog 

Yesterday morning, around 7am, I woke up to make breakfast and noticed a cloud radiating pink light down to the fog that covered the field.  Naturally, I ran for my camera to capture all the pinkness, but upon reaching the field edge the light began to change.  I caught a bit of it, but I assure you that about 30 seconds prior to this photo it was all pink wonder.

   

        

Azaleas

The azaleas are blooming in the front yard and the blooms seem overly abundant this year.  I have a theory about the past winter being a particularly cold one leading to major blooms on all of our trees and bushes.  The pears, plums, peaches and even the live oaks seem to be producing huge numbers of flowers.  Maybe a coincidence...maybe science.

Lula with Chair

Lula enjoys herself with an all day nap outside the barn studio.  This time of year is perfect for her.  Neither shivering in the cold, nor digging holes all day to keep cool she is content lying in the partial shade.

Garden Clean-Up

This photo is post-clean up.  Earlier in the day the garden was looking a bit rough with good  portion being covered in knee deep stinging nettle.  Cymande usually manages all aspects of the garden.  This year being pregnant with twins and now at about 30 weeks she gets to watch me manage all aspect of the garden.  She did direct me and hand me seeds which was quite helpful.  I cleaned, checked the irrigation system and planted beans, okra, watermelon, squash, lettuce, cabbage, peppers, herbs.   

And the Garden Pond Clean-Up

Earlier I mentioned that we experienced a rather cold winter.  We lost a couple of plants, but we also lost all the small fish and invertebrates that were living in the garden pond.  This was the first time that this has happened in the past three years.  I've heard that there were widespread fish kills throughout Florida this past winter.  With all the dead plant and animal material settled on the bottom it was looking pretty bad.  I spent a few hours emptying and mopping up the detritus and now it looks quite pretty.  I'll reintroduce fish from Swilly River in a couple of weeks.

Inside the Coop

Our five hens are starting to lay again.  Of the five hens remaining, two are originals when we started the flock about four years ago.  A variety of predators (including us humans) have taken their toll over the years, but I'm impressed with their longevity. I've learned quite a bit about chickens along the way.  I can identify a good broody hen (sits for the duration and gets up when a good number of chicks hatch) versus a bad broody hen (sits for a few days and gets up for a few days then comes back, or rolls eggs until they crack, or sits and never gets up and eventually dies).  I'm pretty good at identifying predators by mode of death.  Coyotes = a small explosion of feathers and no carcass, dogs = small explosion of feathers with carcass nearby, and the most gruesome would be the weasel = attack at night (because I stupidly forget to close up the coop, oh the guilt) and a carcass with its head chewed off and eaten.  Most of our chickens have been victims of coyote attack which, while disturbing at the time, are at least feeding a family.  The other attacks were just wasteful.

       

Outside the Coop

We put up a fence around the pear trees which keeps the chickens in a large outdoor area.  We did this for a couple of reasons.  The first reason is to protect them from coyotes and dogs.  The other is to protect our yard and garden.  This maybe news to those without a free ranging flock of chickens in your yard: ten hens can and will destroy a vegetable garden in an hour and then happily finish the day scratching away your landscaping.  While Cymande was always very zen about it all, this caused me great annoyance and thoughts of mass slaughter. Now we are all happy.       

Baby Shower

         

 

          

        

March Flowers

Redbud Blossoms.

Who doesn't love Spring? Swarms of bees and hornets found their way back to our front yard.  For as yet undetermined reasons, some confused horticulturist named this tree a redbud.  It is pink and fuschia and white, but really not red.  

         

Mr. M and the Belly.

We are not clear if Mr. M is expressing his early love of the twins or he is plotting.  Mr. M has a mixed poor record with toddlers.  He's furry and attracts interest and this usually results in a screaming and superficially injured child.  Luckily, most kids are quick learners, but if they're not then Mr. M is happy to give additional tutorials.  He has no sense of humor as you can see in this photo.  He is mama's cat, mama is his human.

  

        

Daacha

I don't know what to say about this place except thanks.  Gainesville has a venue for open format modern art/music/performance.  Lake City has Red Lobster. 

Pear Blossoms.

The pears trees are showing more potential than ever.

Spring Colors

Pleasant Pastures

We have decided to go with a new color scheme here on Old Wire Road.  We are sticking with classic white but for the trim...pleasant pastures and pleasant it is.  We keep referring to the new color scheme as 'Nantucket,' but let's be honest, it is pure fantasy that we share anything with a remote New England island, except maybe a certain type of dementia that develops after not leaving the same small geographic area for months on end.  Instead of being surrounded by summering investment bankers vying for a table at some time honored French-American breakfast bistro you can spend 4 minutes trying to figure out what the postman is incoherently babbling about (he's angry that you receive the NYtimes.)  

Yes, that is an exam table that I've examined countless patients on...

When you see burly men remove a nearly useless exam table from your clinic and replace it with a decent one you are filled with some happiness.  Then, when you go out to lunch and see it on the side of the road, well, then you need to take a photo because that is just strange.

  

I'm ready for Spring.

I know it sounds stange to be sick of Winter in Florida, but I am.  I'm tired of cold fronts rolling in and turning 74 degree sunny days into windy 40 degree days.  I'm also tired of the local weatherman saying, 'Alberta Clipper', 'sparking off T-storms', and the general mainstream weatherman concept that rain = bad and sun = good even during a god-damned drought.  I thought that weathermen were supposed to enjoy weather not the lack thereof.

That is some ambitious late Winter moss growing on the shore of Swilly River.

Good Boy

River Rise, River Fall

A horse trail at River Rise.

Two curious deer.

I took a solo trip to River Rise State Park which is where the Santa Fe finally emerges from its underground lair.  It's a pretty strange thing to see.  One moment you have a forest of hardwood and saw palmetto and the next moment you have a big dark slow-moving river.

      

I found this fire-hollowed stump as I blazed my way to the Santa Fe.

A large group of cup or ear mushrooms, but I can't figure out the species.

I started my journey with a bit of confusion.  When I arrived, the park gate was locked.  I figured, "Oh, the hell with it, I'm jumping the fence," and jump the fence I did.  Then I approached an encampment...and yes, I saw movement.  Humans with horses somehow had infiltrated the park and set up a primitive camp with a large stable.  They were living in trailers.

   

A sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) seed pod.

Where the Santa Fe emerges from the ground.

Soon I realized that I was the only non-equestrian at the park, the only biped sans odd-toed ungulate, and I began to feel self-conscious.  I felt even more self-conscious when I watched some horse people let themselves into the locked gate with a special secret key.  Instead of walking the horse trails I decided to blaze my own trail along the shore of the Santa Fe where the indiginous people wouldn't judge me.

The Santa Fe River, post rise.

I was unable to clearly photographically capture the strange hydrologic events that occur at this park.  As I walked along the shore I heard rough water, and lest we forget, rapids are a rarity in Florida.  The only rapids that I know of in Florida are about 100 yards worth at Big Shoals on the Suwannee River.  What could it be?  As mysteriously as the Santa Fe emerges parts of it just disappear.  I stood before a branch of the river that abruptly flowed underground and disappeared below a slowly churning whirlpool of duckweed.

The rodent-chewed pelvis of some small woodland creature. 

River Rise...River Fall.

The equestrian types that I met were quite pleasant and treated me as an equal (I was just missing a vital part).  I'm still not clear if bipeds are really welcome or how you gain access without jumping the damn fence.  Maybe after I'm accepted by the people of River Rise I too will be provided a key to the park...

Florida Freeze

Air from the Arctic has reached Florida and has settled directly over our well pump and pressure tank.  Initially, I ignored the temperatures outside, expecting things to warm up, but instead everything started to freeze.  To remedy the situation we placed some heat lamps over the pipes.  This has been an effective technique and aesthetically interesting. 

We picked our cabbage and they were enjoyable.  They are small cabbage, Farao, specifically.

 

Charles and I returned to O'leno Park after my recent trip with Gio.  Those are cypress knees on the shore of a sink.  Cypress knees, contrary to popular belief, do not aid in gas exchange, nor do they provide shelter for swamp imps or produce St.Elmo's Fire. They are more numerous in areas of loose, muddy soil that floods which suggests that they function as stabilizers which is no surprise...they are roots.

    

Eveyone likes lichen, especially when it's pink or green and hairy.

 The road to O'Leno.

        

This is the old Florida seal which is full of inaccuracies that were slowly corrected over the years.  First, notice the young Indian maiden beckoning the steamship. It turns out that she is wearing traditional Apache clothing and doesn't represent Seminole culture.  I did notice that in this unique rendering the maiden is not dropping flowers or wearing a headdress and instead her hand is just pointing...or waving...'come ashore, take our land, do what you will with it, build strip malls as far as the heron flies.'   In the distance you might notice the Great Florida Mountains which have since eroded into the sea.  The palm is the non-native Coconut Palm, which was replaced by the native Sabal Palm.  I guess the steamboat is correct.  In summary, The Official Seal of Florida-In God We Trust can be translated as: Come all steamboaters to Florida where the friendly Apaches will wecome you to explore the mountains and feed you coconuts from the trees they imported from the South Pacific.  Sounds like an interesting vacation.

There was an abundance of birds to watch.  We saw black and white warblers, blue-grey gnatcatchers, bluebirds, wood ducks and palm warblers.  They were quite vocal even with the cool temperatures.  I was able to attract some black and whites using my Audubon Iphone App.  The blue-grey didn't need any coaxing and practically landed on my shoulder.

The duck weed is beginning to die off from the cold weather and mixed flocks were busy collecting insects from surface of the sinks.

2010, Happy New Year.

Phlox bloom in the field, Spring.  

Ten years ago Cymande and I celebrated the New Year in Paris and slept on the floor of a train station finally arriving back at our hotel at 8am.  Ten years later we were in bed at 8pm.  The decade had us in grad school in Boston; living in the semi-idyllic Beverly, Rockport and Gloucester; serving 3 years in the National Health Service Corps in Lake City, FL; and finally deciding to stay on as Pediatric NP's in Lake City.  It wasn't and isn't an easy decision.  We miss our friends, we miss the little things (independently owned restaurants, hills, normal humans, the rocky granite coast) and we have to endure the local culture (revisionist history, Tea Party Morons Magical Thinkers, 6 foot Confederate flags mounted in the beds of pickup trucks, "Southern Heritage," scientific illiteracy, poor fashion sense and poor dental hygiene.)  We miss you New England and San Francisco.  We like to think of OWR as an outpost on the frontier.      

   

Dogwood blossoms, Spring.

The past year has been a stressful, yet mostly positive, thrill ride for Cymande and I.  We dealt with the psychologic madness, the physical pain and the large sum of cash that is infertility.  My thanks to the amazing and highly competent embryologists, reproductive endcrinologists and nurses that guided our way.  To follow our journey from infertility to a twin pregnancy, (if you haven't already been doing so) I welcome you to the second trimester.  Everyone think June 2, 2010.  

Junonia coenia (buckeye) pupa, Autumn in the field.

We were lucky to have so many visitors at OWR to take us out of our daily routines.  There was marathon badminton, kayaking, frozen pipes, swimming, savory food, bad films, good wine, and indescribable music.  Thanks to Ross, Allison, Gio, Soleil, Connie, Lee, Anthony, Faye and any visitors that I've forgotten.   

Elaphe guttata (corn snake) climbing the rose trellis, late Summer night.

There was talk of paving Old Wire Road and surveyors spent months staking out the path of the future road.  The surveying was followed by an army of county mowers that thoroughly destroyed all the survey markers.  OWR might remain a dirt road forever with this type of planning.  Oh, the South...

        

Ichetucknee River, Fall.

Columbia County, while an insanely and irrationally conservative place, has surprisingly managed to not sell out our springs to water bottling companies or to South Florida.  I continue to be thankful for this policy stance.  However, the county needs strict regulation of fertilizer use, run-off control and real land-use policies that could reverse the damage that is being done to the springs.  Oh, let me guess...they want to do another study to determine what we already know...or maybe have another feel-good meeting of industry and river management people.  Regulation with big nasty teeth is what we need.  This is a county that allowed a concrete plant within a few miles of Ichetucknee Springs and the construction of a large industrial park practically on top of a major sink that feeds the Ichetucknee.  I hope this decade brings powerful permanent protection of our springs.

        

Our pear trees began producing this year, but we failed to watch them closely enough.  They ended up chicken food.  Summer.

There have been so many predictable complaints about the past year by so many predictable people.  My complaints are more extensive, about the fear-a-go-go decade as a whole.  A humorous profanity-laced complaint summary consistent with my feelings can be found here.

      

To all the good people: Happy New Year and let's make this decade a better one...