Invasions

Yesterday, in the waning light of day, I went on a walk around the property with no real intent or purpose other than to stroll. Soon I was in the forest that is on the edge of the creek. The primary trees are ash and oak. Susan had spent many hours this summer clearing some of the blackberries away... and the English Ivy.

Soon I was under the spell of pulling the ivy from climbing the trees. These invasive species easily colonize an area and choke out the existing vegetation. In a couple sections of the land it seems that these two intruders are the dominate species. The Snowberry, Bramble Rose, and fern seem to be retreating from this persistent onslaught. With the intent of returning the land to as many native species as possible, I tear the ivy from its hold as it climbs to the sunlight.

There is something very satisfying about pulling a 10 foot long section of ivy from the ground. At one point I fantasized about hiring high school students and paying them by the foot for harvest these plants. Money would run out before the ivy did. So I continued to pull and follow the roots deep and long.

As the light continued to fade I realized that in pulling up the roots I was disturbing the homes of many creatures that we fail to take into consideration- ones that I don't even know exist. The ants, pill bugs, termites, and the tiny microbes that digest the humus. I'd follow one runner under a fallen branch, through a blackberry thicket and then it would break off.

Now, what's the problem one might ask. Walking through the campuses of higher education it isn't uncommon to see ivy clinging to the brick walls. There is something iconic about these plants clinging to the side of a building; something pretty and pastoral about it. So why do I keep pulling at these plants? What makes something invasive? When does an invasion cease to be an occupation and turn into the normal state of affairs? I guess it is a matter of perspective.

It seems that one of the problems with an invasion or an invasive species is the movement toward domination and submission of that which has been there before. Prior to the invader arriving, there was a balance, and now there is an attempt at subjugation of that which was there before. But where does one draw the line? After all, isn't the spreading of seed, rhizomes, roots, and boundaries a natural imperative?

It boils down to this: I like biodiversity and plants like blackberry and ivy tend to dominate and slowly turn the environment into a monoculture. We plan on pulling out all the ivy... even though it seems to be a sysphian task. (Though we plan on restricting blackberries because the berries are delicious.)


Though, on my computers I have found something destroying the library of my photos. They have become corrupted. I wish it were as easy as pulling ivy to find out what is going on... they say that Macs don't get attacked by viruses. So that means it is an internal invasion... a kind of digital virus. It also means that I have limited photos to post with this entry.

May your lives be free of unwelcome invasions.

Migrations

It has been a couple weeks since I've actually had time to match the pace of the land. Two weeks of leaving in the dark and coming home in the dark. Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I look forward to be able to walk the land and see what has happened. Even in the dawning light I can sometimes here the call of migrating geese. Likely they are Canadian Geese. There is a pond just down the road and I have seen around a dozen geese floating. We are only a few miles from the Finley Wildlife Refuge and when we drive along the highway toward Corvallis there are hundreds and hundreds of waterfowl in the morning light. Just a couple miles away, on Dawson Road, I saw that the Great White Egrets were in the fields. Then further down Highway 99 the Tundra Swans flew overhead. These swans winter over here.

Migrations are a part of life and are part of the movement of time. There is a rhythm to life. If we are so busy charging ahead and see life in a straight line then it is easy to miss the migrations of life. It is a movement; a swirling of energy that takes the form of geese, wildebeest, humans, hummingbirds, or tarantulas. Mass movements of creatures in response to the environment: solar and lunar cycles, food or water shifts.

There are other subtler movements that we can pay attention to. One in this part of the country is return of many different creatures that rise vertically and then return to the humus. Mushrooms. There are fanatics in this part of the world. Stories abound about mushroom hunters shooting at each other to protect a spot. The mushrooms we have on the land are not ones that I'd try to eat. Who knows what they are. Some friends and I were hiking in the coast range and found a lot of chantrelle mushrooms. I also saw this Amanita muscaria alongside the trail. This bright red and white mushroom is iridescent in the gray and green hues of the coastal rain forest. I remember the first time I saw one of these on the flanks of Mt. Baker in northern Washington State. Strange how this memory sticks with me. It is a mushroom that is considered poisonous. It has also been used as a psychoactive substance in Siberia and with the nations of SE Alaska.


There are hundreds of mushrooms on the land. They are real small and of all different shapes. The rhizomes penetrate the soil. These tendrils of life make their way through the soil and the fruiting bodies (what we call mushrooms) pop up to the surface. Though the Amanita muscaria is a beauty, it is the dark mushrooms around here that add splashes of white and brown.

Here's praise for the small things of life; the muted tones; and life's simple pleasures.

Bobby, Silent Spring, and Ukranian Almonds

I watched the movie Bobby tonight. I remember staying up late into the night in 1968 wondering if Bobby Kennedy was going to live. As a young teenager it was an overwhelmingly painful moment and it was also the moment that politicized my awareness. Watching the clips again brought tears to my eyes and to hear his speech about violence, well I wonder if we have learned much. Here is a link to contemporary photos along with his historic speech.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_Vll-t0H6A

It did bring so many memories to mind. One of those was the wooden portable bookstore that used to be rolled from classroom to classroom in the sixth grade. It was from one of those shelves that I picked out some of my first books that focused on the degradation of our environment, including Silent Spring by Rachael Carson. Part of the dream I used to have was to live on a piece of property, in the country, where I could take care of it. Through so much of my life there have been variations of that theme: back-to-the-land phase; wilderness man phase; anti-ownership phase... all with a theme of living surrounded by the natural world. In my middle age that dream has come to fruition.

The burning river in Cleveland has become an iconic image of our excesses and ignorance. The stories of DDT killing so many birds became a rallying cry. Our natural environment is much cleaner than it used to be even though now we deal with large scale environmental problems like global warming. We have become much more aware and adapted our lives and thinking. Aisling is mostly clean though in the orchard there are thousands of tiny black plastic pieces.



This week we planted three almond trees, two Asian pears, and two filberts. The almond trees came from a company called One Green World (Mollala, Oregon). They have been authorized by a nursery in the Ukraine to grow these hardy almond trees. We'll see if they produce over the next three years. When Bobby Kennedy was shot the Ukraine was behind the Iron Curtain and locked away from the rest of the world. Now we are buying almonds from them, as well as pears that originally came from Asia. The world has become so much more intertwined in trade, economies, and culture. This year marks the twentieth anniversary of the dismantling of the Berlin Wall... world events that have lead us to having these almonds in our garden.



Prior to watching the movie tonight I was planning on writing about chopping wood and wood fires. Another thing that have a long lineage in my memory. It is like a drip line in a back burn that reaches brightly into the line behind me. There is a pleasure that comes with chopping wood and burning it in a stove. We will have a new stove soon to replace this circa 1980 wood stove... fewer particulates in the air. Maybe another night I'll write about the pleasures of chopping wood. In the Northwest, when wood is piled in the Fall it needs to be covered to keep it from being saturated by rain.

I shall close tonight thinking about those times 40 years ago.

Full Moon and New Plants

Since the time has shifted to "standard time" we are now arriving home in the dark. Right now the nearly full moon is shining through the window. Yesterday was the official full moon and the daytime was brilliant. One of those clear, warm Fall afternoons that is followed by cool and then cold evenings. I have a stack of wood I cut and split that will need to be put under the porch before the rains return later in the week.

This weekend was a planting weekend. I planted some starts that I found at the Homegrown Nursery. It was all they had left: Mesclun salad, Parisian Market Carrots (doubtful they'll grow much) and a bunch of Walla Walla Sweet Onions. My thoughts are: if they grow great, if not... then at least I tried. The kale continues to grow, the brussels sprouts continue to be infested with aphids. I've learned that this is just an indication that they are stressed out for another reason- which is probably that they didn't get enough water earlier in the year. When I dug up the remaining potatoes it was amazing how dry the soil was even after all the rain we had.


The Blue Lake Pole Beans dangle from their vines in shades of green and brown. I've left a number of them to dry in the Fall air partly to see what the shapes and colors are as they go from small green pods to the long, deformed, and darkened colors. The leaves are already shriveled- lets see what happens after a month of winter to these beans. Maybe freeze-dried?





We spent a number of hours getting the bulbs in the ground this weekend. It was probably about a 100 foot long trench we dug and then placed the bulbs in the ground. It will be fun to see the daffys and other flower coming up along the road.


Tonight our tree order showed up. I've never ordered trees that were mailed to me, it was like opening a Christmas package from under the tree.

The Killdeer call in the morning light and the migrating geese are heard. I thought the song of the cranes came up last night too. The Stellar Jays have pretty well cleaned the giant sunflower head of all seeds.

A Fall poem by John Muir:
The winds will blow their own freshness into you,
and the storms their energy,
while cares will drop away from you
like the leaves of Autumn.