The solace of quiet mornings

For the past week I’ve been taking the time to stop and appreciate the beautifully quiet mornings on November Hill. Quiet meaning no sounds except for the birds singing, the tone of their song held close and perfect by the tree foliage which surrounds us in spring and summer.

Our house is on a hill, and at eye level with the thickest foliage of a number of trees, so the birdsong is nearer and I think held in almost as if in a contained space. It is marvelously peaceful and so welcome right now.

The quiet time is precious.

Even these three appreciate it.

The pollinator garden beds, second year

The Virginia sweetspire we planted last fall in Poplar Folly, doing very well and blooming soon!

Golden Alexander, year two, also doing well.

The old clematis that was here when we bought the farm. I finally gave it something to climb and it’s looking wonderful this spring.

The old rose bush, framing the coneflowers in year two. They have spread this year and I can’t wait to see them bloom.

The second Virginia sweetspire. As the two grow, they’ll fill this corner of Poplar Folly.

Red columbine in the foreground - I planted it in the fall and this is its first year. Behind are the pitcher plants, which really need a wetter space but have managed quite well with all our rain.

The Baptisia, a favorite.

Irises, from our neighbor.

Little bluestem, which has spread and is doing exactly what I wanted in this front corner. 

Another shot of the rose bush.

I’m forgetting what these next two are...

The persimmon tree we planted last fall in Poplar Folly.

More baptisia.

I missed a number of things but ran out of time!

Creating balance in a busy day

These two try to help me accomplish this task! Sometimes I manage it well but mostly I struggle with finding a way to balance the things that I need to get done, want to get done, and still make the day one of being present in the moment.

I’ve written before that I can usually manage to do three “things” in a day. House, barn, writing. Scheduled things, house, barn. Dogs, house, writing. Gardening, barn, dogs. You get the picture. All the animals get fed, obviously, and basic needs plus some are met, thanks to the help of my husband. I’m constantly juggling things, hoping that somehow I’ll discover a way to make the days longer so I can fit in more than three.

What is a balanced life? I think on the whole I have one, but I often feel like I’m riding the river on a boat with no oars, taking things as they come. Other times I try to impose structure and that works until something outside my scheme of how a day should go pushes in and detours my order. 

Today my mom is here and we’re going to take Clementine the service-pup-in-training to see my daughter’s presentation on her university campus. It’s reaching 85 degrees today so I’ll bring the horses in the barn with fans before we leave, and the Corgis could use a romp before we leave too. There’s laundry that needs doing and lunch before we leave and I’m on a very nice streak with writing time lately so I’d love to get that in as well. This is the dilemma. So many things. 

I figure I’ll get us fed, get the horses in, and give the dogs a romp. Laundry can certainly wait. Writing may get pushed back until tonight. But there’s a film on trees in town tonight with discussion after, and I really want to go to that... see what I mean? 

For this moment I’m listening to the many birds singing like mad on this gorgeous spring morning. The trees are fully leafed out and suddenly November Hill is enclosed again, almost like we’re in a jungle setting, and I’m going to sit here and enjoy it for at least ten minutes before I leap into the next thing. 

November Hill farm journal, 74 (when it rains...)

Last weekend we had a thunderstorm that yielded the most rain I’ve ever seen fall in the 15 years we’ve lived on November Hill. All the drainage efforts we’ve made were working but they simply couldn’t handle the amount of water pouring from the skies, and we had a 6-foot wide rushing river flowing through our front pasture, waterfalls along the pollinator terraced beds, 2-foot streams flowing from the barnyard gate and the grass paddock to the front pasture, a pond at the far fence line in front, and the driveway near our gate was completely under water.

My husband took photos but I don’t have them yet on my ipad. I was so worried the driveway had washed out I couldn’t stand focusing a camera in that direction! Thankfully, a couple of hours later the water drained away, the driveway was intact, the fence held, and we have gradually dried out with several sunny days since.

More minor issues: some newly-mulched areas washed out in a few areas and will have to be redone. This includes the area we prepared for my bee hives and made it clear that wasn’t a great location for them anyway, so I’m back to square one with where to put them.

We are totally green now, and things are growing like mad here. The one good thing about the rain is it made a large dent in the pollen count.

In other news, Clementine has started puppy kindergarten class, Violet and Isobel kit-meows were spayed with no problems yesterday and are recuperating upstairs, Bear Corgi had a broken tooth extracted and is recovered, and Pippin kit-meow is now on Prozac to help with a marking issue. It’s a vet clinic here at the moment, but all are well and we’re happy to be done with the surgeries for now.

The schedule these days seems to revolve around when the puppy sleeps and when she’s awake. Right now the herd are all spending some quiet time with hay in their closed stalls so I can take the dogs out for a farm romp - but Clementine conked out so we’re waiting for her to wake up. She’s 12 weeks old and her awake times and energy level are getting longer and bigger. She’s discovered the art of digging holes - I’m hoping farm romps will direct that energy elsewhere!

She’s a sweetie and a beauty.

The Beautiful Brain

Last weekend we visited the Ackland Museum to see their exhibit showcasing the original drawings of Santiago Ramon Y Cajal, Nobel Laureate author of The Beautiful Brain and a luminary in neuroscience.

Several years ago I gifted my neurobiology major daughter his book, titled The Beautiful Brain, and available HERE. It’s an absolutely gorgeous and mesmerizing look at the intricately beautiful drawings he made during his lifetime (1852-1934). Cajal is considered the father of neuroscience. The opportunity to see many of the original drawings was too good to miss.

This photo of him is eerily similar to a treasured childhood memory I have of walking home from school in the first grade and passing by a downtown shop window that was at ground level. Inside were shelves of tiny bottles and tools, and a man often sat at a chair in the room, working. I do not know to this day what the little shop was or what the man was doing, and no one seems to remember it, but I’m sure it was real. Now that I see this photograph of Cajal in his own work space I am even more curious about my memory.

I loved the astrocytes.

From Wikipedia:

Astrocytes are a sub-type of glial cells in the central nervous system. They are also known as astrocytic glial cells. Star-shaped, their many processes envelop synapses made by neurons.

I also loved these:

This book and the exhibit are fascinating and a wonderful way to combine learning with art.