Regeneration

Last week doggo and I went out for a walk to see if we could find a forester in our woods.  No, we weren't playing Where's Waldo; I had gotten a text from a consulting forester we recently hired notifying me that on very short notice he was conducting a timber cruise.  You're probably thinking this has something to do with a luxury cruise ship or forest ocean liner.  For forestry purposes a timber cruise is a field survey conducted to measure, count and assess the quality, volume and species of standing timber for reasons of management, sales or tax purposes.  Inasmuch as we've not listed anything for sale this is strictly about updating our management plan going forward the next 25 years or so.

Doggo located our guy in short order and after an exchange of pleasantries we discussed past management practices and his professional first impression of what we got going-on in our built-from-scratch forest.

Some of you may recall that after acquiring our crappy piece of farmland in 1994 we decided to naturalize much of it by means of planting native cover - namely trees but also seven acres of pollinator habitat.  In 1998 and 1999 we planted roughly 40,000 native Wisconsin conifers and hardwoods.  For years I imagined I'd never live long enough to see those little seedlings ever amount to anything.  Lo and behold we woke-up one year and discovered we had a real forest on our hands.  It was so thick that in some locations you couldn't see through it, walk through it or even consider hunting it.  

So on the heels of the COVID shitshow we hired a logger to perform a pre-commercial thinning; a practice of removing less-desirable softwood conifers in order to release the more desirable and valuable hardwoods. A release is basically removing the competition so that the oaks had more access to sunlight and other resources.  

And I gotta tell you that opening-up the canopy accomplished two things.  First, the released trees put-on a huge growth spurt.  

Second, with sunlight reaching the understory Ma Nature allowed all manner if little seedlings to sprout and all of a sudden we had thousands of tiny little trees popping-up all over the place.

Naturally, the deer, rabbits and mice eat the tastier oaks, white pine and cedar but as a general rule turn-up their nose at tamarack and spruce.  That doesn't mean there's no regeneration of the former, just less.  And with the exception of something we might stick in the yard we're out of the business of planting trees.  Done!  Nature has assumed responsibility for the process going forward.  If you disregard the original investment in preparation and nursery stock, years of work, capital investment in equipment and time; all of these little trees are free for nuth'n. 

 

And an updated management plan will inform our actions going forward and serve as a guide to any future owners.

Next step is to hire a surveyor and actually determine where the property lines and corners actually are located.

Stay-tuned.....    

Post-Blizzard Report

Just got home following some folderol with our curling friends in the naked city.  And it is stunning to see how much of the snow deposited over 48 hours a week ago has melted. My sump pump rejoices.

And a bigger hand to everyone else who toiled under stressful conditions to keep roads and essential services open.

Cheers!

 

Friday Music

This week we celebrate the Feast Day of St. Patrick - Patron Saint of Ireland.  We're celebrating our Semiquincentennial this year and our war for independence from the yoke of the British Crown.  The Irish have their own story of the struggle for independence from British rule.  I figured this is as good a week as any to feature this song.

Composed by Father Charles O'Neil (1887-1963) it is a product of the political situation in Ireland in the aftermath of the Easter Rising and World War I.

More than 200,000 Irishmen served in British forces during the war.  This resulted in mixed feelings for many Irish, particularly those with nationalist sympathies.  Many Irish felt the moral justifications for the war and freedom for small nations such as Belgium and Serbia should be applied to Ireland subjugated by the British.

The Easter Rising of 1916 was an armed rebellion in Dublin against British rule.  The British put down the unrest in six days of street fighting.  450 were killed - mostly civilians and the rebel leaders were executed.  Public revulsion to the response and executions contributed to a growing alienation from Britain and led to the Irish War of Independence (1919-1921).

O'Neil reflected this alienation when he composed the the song telling the story of the Easter Rising and commemorating the few hundred brave men who rose-up against the most powerful empire in the world.

His feelings are summed-up in the line:  Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Sulva or Sud el Bar.

Foggy Dew.....  

Scratching Your Druid Itch

 

06.08.24 Stonehenge

The ancient Druids did not build Stonehenge.  As a matter of fact, as a consequence of a timeline mismatch they had nothing to do with it.  This monument was constructed during the Neolithic and Bronze Age and predates them by more than 1000 years.  This was long before the Celtic Druids appeared in Britain.  Any association is a 17th-century myth, although ancient Druids may have used the site for rituals just as modern-day Druids do.

As the sun grows warmer we notice small signs of life beneath our feet.  First are the crocuses and daffodils, followed by the bluebells and wood anemones. Many of us view these emergent plants as mere greenery.  Druids see life in all living things including springs, creeks, rivers, rocks and stones.  In Druidry all life is sacred.

One of the great mysteries is the Druid's egg.  Life-giving, it is the egg protected by the hare, which is the symbol of Alban Eilir, - the Festival of the Spring Equinox which means The Light Of The Earth.  As Christianity supplanted pagan festivals Christians today celebrate Easter with eggs courtesy of the Easter bunny.

Happy vernal equinox.   

The astronomical arrival of spring is a consequence of the earth’s tilt on its axis as it orbits around the sun.  Equinox from the Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night) means the the earth’s two hemispheres are receiving the sun’s rays equally.  On this date the sun rises exactly due east and set exactly due west with sunlight striking both hemispheres of the earth equally.   Night and day are approximately equal in length. 

As you observe the movement of the sun across the sky each day you will note that it is shifting toward the north.  Birds and butterflies begin their northward migration as a response to this change in daylight following the path of the sun.

 

It would be premature to pack-away your winter outerwear, return the snow shovels to the shed or plant a garden.  Nevertheless, this is a harbinger of the arrival of astronomical spring for those of us in the northern hemisphere.  

 

The official start time will be tomorrow, March 20, at about 9:46 AM CST (give or take). 

Astronomers base season cycles upon the position of the earth in relation to the sun.  The beginning of Astronomical Spring or the Vernal Equinox marks the time when the sun passes directly above the equator.  Meteorological spring is based-upon annual temperature cycles.  Your weatherman will tell your that meteorological spring begins March 1 and goes thru the end of May.

 

No matter how you slice it the days will grow longer, the temperatures warmer and mud season is in full swing.

What's For Dinner?

There are two constants on our menu.

Salmon and venison once a week. Tonight was the latter.

Clockwise, sautéed fresh spinach, baked jacket potato and pan-seared backyard whitetail. Medium rare. 

It's what's for dinner.

Pretty good chow if you can get it.

One Tough Bird

We've had a pair of resident sandhill cranes nesting here for as long as we've had our big pond; making it thirty years.  I don't believe it has been the same pair for the duration ; nevertheless, we've been witness to cranes arriving here in the month of March is some remarkably harsh weather conditions.  Including Winter Storm Elsa which ended late Monday.  Our cranes have been here for a couple of weeks already and when I arose yesterday they were easy to spot given all the snow on the ground.

There they were - several hundred yards north of the house - at the edge of the frozen pond, in a couple feet of snow, on a sunny 18F morning.  The sandhill is an incredibly hardy critter always arriving at their northern breeding grounds while there is still snow covering icy wetlands. 

This bird comes factory-equipped with some sophisticated physiological adaptations that allow it to thrive under the harshest of conditions.  One of these is a sophisticated network of blood vessels in their legs called rete tibiotarsale.  Also found in penguins and turkey vultures this allows warmer arterial blood from their heart to transfer heat to the cold venous blood returning from their feet.  This keeps their core temperature warm while allowing their feet to remain at a lower temperature while standing in snow or icy water.  

When airborne cranes typically fly with their long legs trailing behind.  If it is too cold at 10,000 feet of altitude the bird will tuck their legs into their belly feathers to conserve heat.  Speaking of which, the crane's plumage is a dense layer of soft downy feathers beneath an outer layer of contour feathers.  Air trapped by the inner layer provides thermal insulation beneath the outer feathers that repel wind and freezing rain.   

Crane behavior strategies include the use of tail winds to speed their migration from Mexico and southern states, roosting in warmer waters adjacent to power plants and preening their gray feathers with mud to make a rusty-brown camouflage to hide from predators.  Until the arrival of spring green-up, this is a bird capable of digging beneath snow to locate waste grain in agricultural fields and tubers and dormant invertebrates and amphibians in frozen mud. 

Anyway, we're looking forward to observing the ritual mating dance of Wisconsin's tallest bird.  The birds will face each other, bow and jump while flapping their wings and making loud cackling calls.  Yes, this tough bird can dance too.

Stay-tuned for any lucky trail camera photos I might capture this season. 

Patron Saint

Clonmacnoise, Ireland

The Feast Day of Saint Patrick has taken-on more significance for me since we traveled and visited the Old Sod of my ancestors before COVID.  Unless you are oblivious it is obvious that the Republic of Ireland is most assuredly a bastion of the Roman Catholic tradition of the Christian faith.  And I suppose more than a few visitors are left with the impression that Ireland is - in some official capacity - a Catholic country.  While Catholics significantly outnumber all other faith traditions in Ireland, there is no reference to Catholicism in the Irish Constitution.  Ireland is officially a secular state and tolerates all belief systems.  Of course, on my visit not even once did I spy a Lutheran church.  But I digress.

Getting back to the Feast Day the story of Ireland’s Patron Saint persists and you readers are likely wondering if St. Patrick really did chase the snakes out of Ireland.  Or is that tale just a bunch of blarney?        

According to the tale way back in the fifth century the legendary priest raised his staff and banished the reptiles into the seas surrounding the Emerald Isle.  Save for those in captivity it is true that Ireland has no snakes.  But this current condition has less to do with religious tradition and more to do with geologic history and events dating many millennia ago.  Following the retreat of the last glaciers some 15,000 years ago Ireland was devoid of snakes.  Surrounded by icy waters to this very day snakes cannot swim or find their way there and as a consequence Ireland remains snake-free.         

That’s too bad because if my recreational DNA test is to be believed I am becoming more Irish with every passing year.  And I have a particular fondness for snakes. The bigger the better.   

Like this dandy five foot long Western Fox Snake.  I also like a good saint when I see one and St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish.         

Patrick was born of aristocratic blood in Britain probably around the year 390.  The legend says that he was not particularly religious.  At age 16 he was kidnapped into slavery was forced into life as a sheepherder in Ireland.  It is held that it was during this time that he found God and became a believer.         

As the story goes he began hearing voices and the voices instructed him to flee.  Which he did.  Patrick eventually found his way back to Britain and his family.  Alas, the voices returned commanding him to return to Ireland.  He was ordained a priest, went back to Ireland and spent the balance of a rather difficult life converting the pagan Celts to Christianity.  He died on March 17, 461 and was promptly forgotten.      

Nevertheless, over many years faithful conviction and belief in the story of Patrick grew.  And he grew ever larger after his death than he did in real life.  Hundreds of years after the fact he was honored as Ireland’s patron saint.         

So on March 17th we gather to pay homage to this saint who - ostensibly - banished the snakes from Ireland.  It is said that on this one day of the year everyone is Irish.          

Since I have real Irish blood coursing through my veins I intend to raise a glass of Guinness and toast my ancestors and Saint Patrick.  I will ignore the part about the sketchy British and Western European connection.         

Speaking of Guinness - according to the Guinness people somewhere around 5.5 million pints of Guinness stout are consumed world-wide each and every day.  On St. Patrick’s Day this will grow to 13 million pints; lifting a Lenten restriction on alcohol for just one day.     

Drink responsibly people.         

Sláinte!