This morning I find myself sitting on a folding chair in the top meadow not long after sunrise. I smiled a little half-smile a minute ago remembering that I never was much of a ‘morning person’. I blame the chickens and an often overwhelming need to be in this early morning peace on my way back to the house. Sometimes I can’t fight it and if I’m not asleep on my feet, I go in for a cup of tea and come straight back out. The thought always enters my mind each time I check for an early egg. I’m being trained by a natural master and am always rewarded when I give into it. I almost wish I’d slept out here in this perfect temperature as the upstairs is so hot this weekend. I think it would be an idea to set up a bell tent here and use it day and night throughout the summer. I never knew I’d end up living somewhere that is quite literally like being on holiday when life and weather allows. The switch can be switched at any moment into that mode but there are of course other modes here that are much more dutiful. This weekend just happens to have an easier feel because I’ve reached a point in my domestic jobs that enables me to sit and relax a little more. I know the sitting room is a mess, but at least it’s only the childrens’ toys and games that they’ll go back to when they get up. Ah well, such is life! I do love that sentiment. It’s from one of their books I often read called “The Lighthouse Keeper’s Lunch”. Seagulls keep attacking his lunch on its way to him down the zip wire, but eventually the man and his wife work out how to fool them with mustard sandwiches. This is what happens when sitting out here! My mind flows from one thing to another and then stops to listen to sounds that snap me back to the present moment. This spot. We have cut a series of magic paths that go this way and that in the meadow where I am. I’ve put this chair interestingly in a junction where five of them meet. One goes off to the pig sheds, one to the vegetable garden, one to the chickens, one to the meadow gate and one to the house past the trampoline and lawn. Having paths is good fun, even for grown-ups. We’ve cut it like this a few times so the grass is lawn quality for running around on. Imagine a maze in a corn field but instead of corn, our paths are lined with very tall grasses, docks, long buttercups, a fruit tree or two and a few lucky nettles. My cat who has been curled up in a little ball along the edge of the path to the pig sheds this whole time has just heard something rustling and is standing alert, waiting for his moment. If I’d gone back to bed like I did yesterday, I’d be missing so much. It will be far too hot to sit here in about an hour or so. I wonder while I’m sitting here if my presence is altering the things that are happening around me, or if the same things would be going on without me involved. I think some of the things may be the same and I observe them closely. A bee on a flower may not be aware of me and carries on nearby. The gentle movement of leaves on trees I am watching. The way the sunlight highlights grasses at a lower angle this early in the day. The hen clucking in the henhouse while she lays her egg. This is a much explored scientific concept. To what degree am I changing my environment simply by being in it? I know as I sit here that I am indeed causing change, but I get the sense that I am welcome to be a part of it. I think I’ve found a new favourite sitting spot. I’ll go get another cup of tea.
Tag: homesteadlife
Enter the Orb-weavers
On a misty morning, hundreds of gossamer webs reveal themselves to me on my way to the chicken house. The perfect Halloween variety woven between burgundy coloured dock seed heads and long grasses. I knew it was going to be an interesting morning when I woke to the sound of cows mooing not far from my bedroom window. I looked out and they were standing at the gate to their field across our lane for some reason. It was a pleasant country sound so I carried on about my business without feeling any need to go check on them. While I was feeding the chickens, I had the overwhelming urge to check for eggs in the other nest box even though they haven’t laid anything there for weeks. Since we have only three hens left, I’ve been getting just one egg first thing and two more around lunchtime. Today, weirdly, there were two eggs in the unused box and one in the regular spot! I thought that was interesting that I should have the feeling to check and then have instant confirmation that the whispering in my ear needed to be followed up. Sometimes it pays to be still and observe the silent promptings, see where they lead you. I think maybe this is what some people believe is a higher power communicating with us in the form of a small voice. For me, it feels like instinct or a state of being in which our natural abilities as human animals become accessible. We are connected intricately with our surroundings and I believe that if we allow ourselves to be calm and open, we can tap into this network of information. It’s like when animals sense long before that a rainstorm is coming by noticing changes in temperature or atmospheric pressure. I realise it isn’t the same thing to feel something physically like a storm coming versus somehow knowing that there are eggs in the box but it’s all natural magic to me. There are countless examples that plants and animals, insects too, receive invisible information to act upon or witness changes that they may need to act upon later. I spent a while looking at the spider webs thinking that they were like telephone wires that send information to the spider in a physical way and wondered if there is transmission between neighbouring webs. I went inside to fetch a magnifying glass to have a closer look at the spiders to try to identify them. I can only tell you that they are orb-weavers and might be Garden or Diadem spiders (Araneus diadematus). Once it reached 8.30 A.M., my son came out to find me spying at spiders in the meadow and joined me with excitement. We looked at each one and discovered that they were all the same body shape and pattern but in various colours. For the first time, I found myself interested in spiders and appreciated the beauty they had brought to our morning. Their webs made me think of autumn and of all the harvesting and foraging we so look forward to. I’m reassured once again that it was a good plan to allow large areas of the meadow to go to seed. It is time for spiders so take a moment to feel the changing season and just put them outside if they’re invading your space. They are too amazing to squash! Admittedly, I always go get my partner to capture the big ones. It’s difficult to get over a phobia, but appreciating them outside in their natural habitat is a start. Instead of waiting for them to surprise you, grab a magnifying glass and try to catch a glimpse of the orb-weavers in particular. You never know where the experience may take you.
Nature as usual
I looked out of the kitchen windows and saw a wonderful sight. Two young Chaffinches clinging to the rusty orange fading Garlic Mustard plants that are no more than 6 feet from where I stood. It had been raining for several days so nature came to me without the need for my rain gear. They were swaying back and forth feeding on the long seed pods. I watched them fly over to the small pear tree, hop to the ground for a peck about and then make a quick departure. I was so pleased that I hadn’t had a desire to cut down the tired looking plants already. It makes me want to try the seeds myself. I have had the pleasure of noticing a few homestead successes over the past couple of days, despite quite a wet week. When visiting the chickens, I figured it might be time to have a look at the wild parsnips again to check for red soldier beetles. Goodness me, the three clumps now exceed my height and were absolutely teeming with beetle activity. Red critters galore! Once my eyes tuned into them, I started seeing them all over. I noticed a couple in the vegetable garden as well which is a great sign. What I don’t know, however, is if their proliferation is definitely down to the wild parsnips being allowed to stay or if it’s something else. Whatever the reason, I’m glad to see them and do not have much green or black fly to worry about. On that note, I don’t know if it’s just luck or what but I have seen several seven spot ladybirds and no harlequins. I had so many harlequin larvae on the nettles recently I thought they would easily dominate over any others. This delightful report may change if there is some sort of mass hatching of a new battalion of harlequins, of course. Another lovely discovery came in the form of tiny clusters and single perfectly placed butterfly eggs on my salad leaves. There were three different egg colours and types on the leaves and another light green cluster on the underside of a nearby marigold leaf. I called for the children to come share my excitement and they were thrilled. Just this week we drew and talked about the life cycle of butterflies and they were fascinated. A few days before, they had found a huge mullein moth caterpillar on a buddleia bush that sparked their interest. They also loved and were slightly scared of the peacock butterfly caterpillars we had on the nettles. To find butterfly eggs was the icing on the cake. Needless to say, we won’t be eating the salad until we can share it with the caterpillars. This afternoon saw the end of the latest rainy spell and we were treated to a blazing sunset to end the day. I plan to harvest more chamomile flowers in the morning, once the dew has lifted from this wild land. A long awaited sunny day is likely to reveal a few more unexpected pleasures. Our eyes will be open.
Warm winds
Summer wind is gently blowing across the homestead tonight. I am enjoying listening to it move through the trees as I write. It’s a soft rustling sound that is not unlike the ebb and flow of the waves on a beach. The windows are open just enough to feel the movement of the air. When I am ready to sleep, it will soothe me. I’m sure everything outside is enjoying the relief from such a hot day. I am certainly pleased to have left some tall greenery in the chicken enclosure for them to lie under. It was extremely hot today despite the winds efforts to peg back the temperature. Our main barn felt like an oven so the double doors were opened wide while my partner and his father worked on building us a new log store. There has been a wonderful sense of occasion here over the last few days as it was the solstice and then my birthday. The entire weekend was dedicated to either preparing for or celebrating the solstice in particular. I never expect or require any fuss over my birthday. I did enjoy a very easy going day with lots of sweet wishes from friends and family so it was lovely. Last Friday was Midsummer’s Eve which was the night when people would stay up all night revelling and then watch the sunrise on the longest day. My partner managed to see it this year. He relayed to me the way the bright orange orb suddenly rose up from behind the distant hills to the east. I didn’t manage to be awake for it this year but I will try next time. The weather was a little changeable but it wasn’t expected to rain in the evening when we were going to have a fire and a small outdoor celebration. The children and I gathered a few oak leaves and decorated the table with symbolic meaning to mark the midway point in the year that was to be around a quarter to ten. I had been keeping a special beeswax candle in the shape of an old ‘skep’ or wicker beehive I wanted to burn to pay homage to our hardworking bees. We ate, enjoyed live music provided by talented company, inhaled a lot of oak smoke, drank mead. It was a splendid night and made all the more magical by a sudden mysterious wind that whirled through our circle during a particularly atmospheric song. Sparks flew out of the fire causing us to take notice of its presence, adding power to the moment. A few minutes later, it started raining lightly but we stayed out until it began to pour. We retreated into the house, carrying arm loads of wet tableware and Moroccan carrot salad. These warm summer winds are speaking to us, carrying messages, and I am listening.
A Thundering Typhoon
More than one actually. Stormy skies have prevailed this week with thunder, lightning, whipping winds and downpours of rain. Today it merely rained steadily all day but the storm we had a couple of days ago made me feel like I was out at sea. We could hear it coming and watched as dark storm clouds flashed and rumbled over nearby hills. Birds fell silent and I knew I should have grabbed the clean sheets from the line but decided to wait it out. Moments later, the rain arrived and came down with such force that it bounced several inches off the ground which created a splashing blur of any hard surfaces. I worried for the vegetable garden and hoped that the birch twigs would hold up the pea and broad bean plants. The wind gusts lashed the rain against the windows thus adding to the boat feeling. Would the tomato plants survive this? I kept telling my daughter about how much I love storms as we watched and listened from the safety of the house. It was exciting and dramatic. You know it’s summer when you get a storm like that. I expected to lose electricity but luckily no trees came down on power lines this time. I wondered what the chickens were feeling as they sheltered inside their coop with a metal roof! The storm left as quickly as it had arrived and had splashed mud onto the sheets so that is definitely a lesson learned. When the birds stop singing, bring in your sheets. I lost a couple of nasturtium plants that were planted in hanging pallets on the side of the big barn but nothing else. All of the vegetable plants were intact including the flowers. I was sure they would have been pressure washed from their stems. I was going to leave the two nasturtiums where they were on the ground, but decided to bring them in to enjoy in the kitchen window. The next day, a bright orange flower appeared on one of them so I was glad that we didn’t eat them immediately. The wind had ripped the whole plants from their stalks so I didn’t see any hope for their recovery. It was lovely to at least be able to enjoy a single flower while it lasted. The green leaves were beginning to fade by today, but on closer inspection, there were tiny new leaves growing and ROOTS coming from the base of the stalk. This could easily be seen through the glass water jug they were in. I was completely surprised to discover this and had no idea that nasturtiums can be grown from cuttings. I have rooted cuttings before and am currently doing it with Ivy and a favourite house plant of mine but I was so pleased that the nasturtiums could be saved and replanted. I planted them in my special homemade mix of soil and they are sheltering in the back porch window until they can be put back on the blue pallet shelf we made. I smile every time I see them there. There is even a new flower bud on the other one so I think they’re going to make it. A wonder of a plant that is so simple in form with such eagerness for life. Not even a storm can dampen their enthusiasm.
This Wild Homestead 