December 21, 2007
· Filed under Writing, nature · Tagged autumn, birds, blue jays, leaves, nature, snow, winter, Writing
It is almost winter; snow has been on the ground for days. The autumn lasted so long that the trees which didn’t lose their leaves before the sudden cold at the beginning of December are losing them now: brown, dried leaves loosened by the wintry blasts have been sent skipping across the snow, where they look incongruous, misplaced in seasons, dark sepia against a stark white background.
Now, for a few days, the onset of winter has eased: last night rain was falling, and by morning some of the snow had melted. Last week I filled the chickadee feeder: ever since then, there’s been an increase in bird activity; not just chickadees, but cardinals, whitethroats, a downy woodpecker, and blue jays. Every time I see a blue jay these days, I cheer: they used to be so common, but in the past few years they have been utterly decimated by West Nile virus. It’s good to see them back.
My college class took up so much time: though I learned so much, I barely had enough time to write anything, except for class — let alone get anything else done. The first class in the library program is over now! It’s almost the holidays. Maybe I’ll finally get around to making that pumpkin pie!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
December 4, 2007
· Filed under Prairie, Writing, nature · Tagged burning leaves, field sparrow, prairie burns, prairie plantings, winter
Last week I was driving past a large corporate campus when I smelled smoke. At first I thought, “What’s on fire?” and then I realized the smoke had a distinctive fragrance: it could only be a prairie burning. But how late in the year for a prairie burn! I parked at a nearby building, and when I got out of my car, that marvelous smell was even stronger. The burn must have been at the far west end of the campus: I couldn’t even see the smoke. Just to know it was going on, though, gave a huge lift to my spirits. As I walked away from my car, I felt a wonderful nostalgia for my prairie-burning college days.
Later, a woman I knew in the office building I was in complained that someone was burning leaves. “Oh, no,” I said, “ burning leaves stink. The way it smells, they’re burning a prairie.” Then she said, “Oh, yeah! When I drove by, I saw they were doing a controlled burn!” We talked a bit about burning prairies: I said they ought to burn the little patches of prairie near our building; then she mentioned that she’d like to plant something like that on some land her family owns. I gave her some information on how to get help finding out how to plant native landscapes, where to buy prairie plants, etc. (how cool, possibly a new convert to more natural landscaping!).
This week, I found out they didn’t burn those little prairie patches near us, which so badly needed it: they have been poorly maintained, and are full of weeds. They are very small; maybe they’ll burn them in the spring, or give them a once-over mowing: I hope so. A few times in the summer, I heard a field sparrow calling when I walked through the parking lot for our building. I hope some of the corporate campus prairie plantings are big enough, or contiguous enough, for them to nest, but I’m not sure.
Now winter approaches, and snow is coming; there was some over the weekend, which didn’t all melt, and today more is expected: possibly a lot more. The summery weather went on so long, the leaves changed so much later than usual, and then suddenly it was cold; it got cold so fast there was no time to get used to it this year. Too late for burning prairies now.
