November Hill farm journal, 239

 Well, autumn is here, though it feels like the color is a bit late to come. Though I have to remind myself that the reason November Hill is named that is because November is when things get spectacular here, so I’m a little ahead of myself wishing for color!

Here’s where we are:

Up at the mountain house, however, things are much more fall-like:

Thanks to my dear husband for this aerial image of our beloved mountain spot. 

This month we have had the house power-washed, windows cleaned inside and out, gutters cleaned, front porch and deck cleaned, and the same at the barn. It was a long day keeping cats and dogs out of the way and safe, but it’s beautiful and now I can move on with my other projects. 

I’m halfway through painting our bedroom walls. We’ve planted a new native bed with coneflower, Joe Pye, marsh rattlesnake master, put in a new buttonbush, and yesterday planted three yaupon hollies in a few empty spots outside the front fence, adding to our native hedgerow. 

A hackberry has volunteered itself where the old monster buddleia was, perfect place for it, and a willow oak has quickly escaped my notice to grow to 4 feet in the bluebird bed, which happens to be a pretty perfect place for it, so I’m happy to have some volunteers coming in. 

All the animals are good, the fish are good, though my aquarium snail passed away and it was sad. He (not sure but it felt like he was a he!) was very active and seemed healthy up until the last couple of days of his life with us. He was buried and at some point I’ll get another snail to help with algae maintenance. 

I’m doing my favorite writing workshop in 6-week bursts this month, in November, and again in January. I’m thrilled to have three new flash pieces in hand now and still working on more. Am thinking a lot about novels and screenplays in progress too. 

Life is busy these days and there is so much to do: responding to and resisting the atrocities being carried out around our country, noticing and soaking in the daily joys on the farm and up at the mountain house, spending time with family, including the four-legged and finned and winged ones. 

May we all join together in resisting, relishing, and recuperating as we move through these precious days. I believe there is hope. I believe we can, as Maggie Smith says in her amazing poem, make this place beautiful. 

November Hill farm journal, 238

 

Up at Stillwater the Monarchs are enjoying the yellow crownbeard. It was a wonderful time up there with family and I was grateful to be there, for the land itself, and for all the wildlife the land supports. 

Also grateful for the swamp sunflowers here on November Hill that had bloomed when I got home. 

Life is good, but busy. My aquarium needed a large water change when I got home so that was the first thing I took care of. Then on to some tidying and ongoing cleaning tasks, back to my client schedule, and moving forward with the punch list:

Subaru for maintenance - check + ouch as it needed a repair we didn’t expect.

Clem to vet for annual wellness exam - yay, we got urine sample before she and I headed to the vet! But alas, the golden girl cried and howled and became so distressed, even on Tramadol, that we turned back home and rescheduled when there are two of us humans to take her. 

Equine vet here for annual check-ups - check. And amazing behavior by Little Man, who has always disliked shots and blood draws, but does so even more after his stay at the vet school last year. However, he stood like a champ and carefully shook his head a few times to release his tension during his exam and blood draw and rabies shot. I was super proud of him. Rafer did very well as usual, and Redford excelled, even with his shy demeanor and sometimes skittish response to all things not the norm for him. He too stood like a champ. Cody was great, and then we were done. 

We’ve had some help again to do some of the farm/land chores we haven’t gotten to, and that has been wonderful. Branches stacked, one dead tree cut and stacked, mowing, some weed-eating. Next is the arena, which needs tidying. 

October and November and December are my favorite months and here we are. I’m writing and editing and reading and soaking in all the joys of home and family. The world is not well and I’m doing what I can to help in small ways with that whole mess. 

I had many wild muscadines this year, most of them from the vines closest to Salina and Keil Bay’s graves, and I ate them with love, and felt the love of those two horses who have been major influences on my life over the years. They remain with me in spirit. The wild grapes reminded me of my favorite poem of autumn.

The Wild Geese

Horseback on Sunday morning,
harvest over, we taste persimmon
and wild grape, sharp sweet
of summer's end. In time's maze 
over fall fields, we name names
that went west from here, names
that rest on graves. We open
a persimmon seed to find the tree
that stands in promise,
pale, in the seed's marrow.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear,
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye
clear. What we need is here.

-Wendell Berry

November Hill farm journal, 237

 

Walking along the wood’s edge recently I noticed these three pinecones in this exact position. Did they fall that way? Did a squirrel position them? I don’t know, but the symmetry caught my eye and made me smile. I view three as a sacred number and I loved this moment of noticing. 

A few more moments since I last posted:

Grandchildren harvesting figs and the last of the blueberries with their grandpa.

A painted pony trotting like a show pony up the grass paddock hill for breakfast.

Two little donkeys lining up for grooming. 

Wild muscadines ripening right over Keil Bay’s gravesite. 

Tidying up the farm some with mowing and trimming. 

Honeybees coming up the hill from Arcadia to drink from the base of the water hydrant, for the minerals in the earth, I think, since they have fresh water available in their apiary.

The dream I had of galloping on Keil Bay, all over the world, just the two of us checking things out at high speed. 

Clean sheets after a long day. 

The farm is doing its late summer thing right now. I put up the firefly habitat sign with my husband’s help yesterday, we switched the gate wreaths from summer to fall, and though it still feels like we’re living in a jungle, there are signs that autumn is very close. Some cool nights, less warm days, dogwoods changing color. 

May we all find joy in this turning of the season. 

Oh my gosh, this is my dream come true…

 

Say something, do something

“My philosophy is very simple,” Representative Lewis once told an audience. “When you see something that is not right, not fair, not just, say something! Do something! Get in trouble, good trouble, necessary trouble.”