Water Feature

There's a little human-made pond in our back yard (right next to what seems like a very ill-placed fire pit).  Michelle dragged a pump out of the pond earlier this spring and has been doing some work to clean it up.  

Now the surprise peonies appeared right near the pond, so I've been paying some attention to the pond of late.  Tonight, when I came home, I checked immediately to see if the peony had bloomed.  [No, by the way.]  But, what I did discover is that today, Michelle got the pump hooked back up and now, our pond has a bit of a fountain.  Wow!  I've been very excited all evening about the working water feature.  Several times, I had to go hang out at the back door, just to watch the water.

The Abandoned House and the Irises

There's an abandoned house up the road from our house.  Technically, it's for sale, but no one lives there, and it appears to be in pretty dire condition.  It's tipping pretty dramatically; a stiff wind would probably blow it over.  The yard is a wild tangle.  It's filled with ferns, brambles, and tall grass.

Tonight, when I was walking Birdie, I noticed the irises. There's a large iris bed ringing the front part of the property, filled with the lovely dark purple variety, packed in cheek by jowl. (Or would that be leaf by stem?)  Irises are my favorite flowers, so that's probably what really caught my attention.  But, after I noticed them, I spent the walk home thinking about the irises and the house.

Who planted them?  What happened to the people who owned the house?  Was there a time when the house and yard were well loved and cared for?  I had a lovely little day dream, imagining someone planting the bulbs, lovingly.  

Planting is such a vote for the future.  Larry and I were talking about how to establish an asparagus bed today.  It's a significant investment in time and a belief in the future.  But really, that's true of any planting.  Putting seeds, or vegetables, flowers, or trees in the ground is a statement of belief in the future.  

I imagine that the planter of the irises had no idea what would happen to his/her house.

What do the moose think?

I walked Birdie up Milan Hill Road today when I got home from work.  First, I noticed all of the moose tracks.  The shoulder is very damp these days, and Milan Hill is clearly a moose byway.  Each day, I see fresh tracks.  In case you were wondering, the moose are definitely back!  In short order, however, all of the trash intruded on my moose euphoria.  There must have been twenty or more beer bottles in a third of a mile stretch, plus another couple dozen beer cans, some soda/pop bottles, and a digital pregnancy tester (I don't even want to know!).  Moose tracks and a beer bottle.  More moose tracks and three crushed cans.   

I found myself wondering what the moose think of all the shit that litters their home.  Do they notice it?  (How could they not?)  Does it disturb them?  And I don't mean emotionally (the way it disturbs me!).  I wonder: Does the trash get in their way?  Cause them to change their behavior?

And what about the people who toss their trash out the window?  I recently had a conversation about our disconnection from nature.  It seems to me that one of the symptoms of  humanity's disconnection from the natural world just might be the ability to litter without conscience.  

Milan Hill Road is a beautiful spot.  There are more trees than houses; you can see wildflowers by the side of the road.  There are several marshy areas right by the road.  And, on a good day, you can see a moose in a moose wallow.  How disconnected do you have to be to throw a beer bottle into this?

Sometimes I walk with a garbage bag.  But, it's kind of a losing battle.  Tonight, I was simply sad.