What Luck.

We were noodling around the yard, and what did we find. Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, on the edge of our lawn these lovelies were making their voices heard. A substantial stand of Lily-of-the-Valley , with purple columbine poking through.

 Mind you, these images were taken after I gussied them up a bit. There were ferns and another plant-that-has-yet-to-be-named in amongst them.

 

 

I got up early today so I could weed them before the mosquitos and black flies realized there was fresh meat to be had. I then remembered that when we vacationed in Maine, 30-some years ago, I had been shocked to realize that I needed a sweatshirt in the morning. In July. What a place.

 

The black flies have been a problem, make no mistake. I have had to accept that deet is required if I want to be out and about after 9:30a or so. And I will adapt. I told John that I have become a person who needs to shower before bed (and after "work"), rather than a shower-in-the-morning type. I can't bear the idea of going into clean sheets with deet on my skin, so I'll shower just before bed. It will work. And I am so in love with this place.

 

 

There are also other goings-ons. The rhododendrons are in full bloom. All are this fushia color that is not my favorite, but who can argue with this exhuberance?

And there are other goings ons.

The Double File Viburnums ( Viburnum plicatum tomentosum) are showing off. The folks who planted the garden here showed incredible good sense. We have seen these Viburnums planted singly, and honestly, they look a little lost. But these were planted en mass, and they look like they're singing in a choir. No, roaring at a rock concert, I think. Oh my.

Our Highbush (cultivated) blueberries are also in bloom, though almost done. Only 2 of the 6 plants will have any fruit this year, but I'm hoping to encourage them all (water, fertilizer, weeding, pruning) to make a go of it next year.

The Ranunculus  are slowing down now. I thought they were also called anemone, but my foray into wikipedia does not confirm that. They make wonderful cut flowers. I've had one in an Ikebana arrangement for a week, and it still is holding up decently.

Ok. Now. I told you that I would talk about the downsides of this place. And they all, so far, have to do with insects and ticks. The legendary black flies are pretty awful. I had hoped that since we didn't live TOO close to running water, where they breed, that we'd be ok in the backyard. Not so. And while I don't have a terrible reaction to them (no swelling to tennis-ball-sized welts), I do get a nasty bite from them, that usually comes to a head and weeps. 

Next, of course, is the mosquito. I've always been a mosquito trap crop, and while getting old and tough may have eased that a bit, I'm still a target. John is grateful. 

The good news is that Deet and paramethrin really do deter them. There is so much that is wonderful about this place, that I am more than willing to try to adapt.

The Brown Tail Moth was a bit of bad news that we didn't need. It turns out that we're in a hot spot for them. While they eat leaves (Oaks being at the top of their list), their spines drift in the wind. If they land on a person, they cause a terrible poison-ivy like rash. So I've been a bit skittish about them. We had our 60+ foot oaks sprayed (nests in the upper branches were visible), and I'm resting a little easier. At least in my backyard. Brown Tail Moth and ticks, have been the big Climate Change Bonus for Maine. It makes me so sad.

The last bit is about ticks. They are truly terrible right now. We've had a good bit of rain, and temperatures have been warm, though not hot. Long time Mainers tell me that it didn't used to be this way. They didn't used to have this plethora of ticks. We're learning the trails to avoid during this wet season, and of course Jasper is well protected, between his tick-o-cide (orally, once every 3 months), and his Lyme vaccine. Maybe we should try to protect humans likewise? What a concept.

In closing this post, I will answer "No. I don't regret moving here. At least, not yet." I have always loved being outside, but working on this particular 5 acres, and living in this particular house is a joy I have never experienced before. I hope you can visit some time.

An Interlude

 

Elizabeth Zimmerman, the iconic knitter/writer, liked to include what she called "Digressions" in her books. This is my version of the digression. Starting with another look at the Copper Beech. She is late to completely leaf out, and was very late to drop her leaves last fall. It's as though she was very hopeful in the fall ("maybe winter isn't REALLY coming. . ."), and then decided to play it safe as the weather warmed.

On another subject, I haven't completely given up on getting stuff made in the studio, though it's been tough to get time there since the weather has warmed. To the right is a little porcelain vase-like item. Thrown and then embellished when it's leather hard. This is a new style for me, and I think I like it.

Another little vase

Mugs: one thrown, one hand built.

Back of the mugs, assuming a right handed person

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A small olive bowl.

 

 

 

 

 

I got a little enthusiastic with too much color on the little olive dish. The pure white of the porcelain really doesn't need this much help. In fact, just some black on the olives would have been enough?

Finishing up, we got to eat lunch on the new patio today. The bird song was incredible. John recorded some of it, but I just found out that this platform doesn't support audio files. So! Next time, I'll take a video, and then you'll also be able to hear it.

The gutter guys have finally come to fix our decrepit gutters, and on Friday, the new arbor should be delivered, finishing up the patio area for now.  Places where we live are never really finished, but I'm hoping that we'll be coming to a good place to stop for a bit.

The Local, Part II, which includes a headslap moment

John and I were sitting on the front porch, watching the thunderstorms roll in and out, and I had this moment. I realized that the beech that I have loved from the first time I saw the house is not just any beech. It's a Copper Beech. How could I have missed that? 

To be fair, a Copper Beech looks different in the fall than in the spring. It's more purple/green, less copper. But you can see as it's leafing out in the image to the left that it is indeed copper. Another favorite tree, and she was right here waiting for us. Yay.

So on to the local hike from the previous post.

In the last post, I mentioned the drifts of yellow violets. 

But there's more. These tiny white and purple flowers are also in drifts. . .four petaled tiny wonders that remind me of forget-me-nots. 

Then there is the six-petaled star-shaped flower. They have tri-lateral symmetry, though in sixes, rather than threes, like the well-known trillium. Also in drifts along the forest floor.

 Beautiful tiny flowers. You can tell how small they are compared to the oak leaf on the floor next to them.

Enter the edibles. These strawberries form colonies along other areas on the path. My experience with wild strawberries is that they are lovely, but not really very tasty. I can't wait to try these to see if they break that rule.

Closeup of strawberry flowers 

I was shocked to see these guys. How could I have missed them in the fall? These are lowbush blueberries (Vaccinium angustifolium). Maine is famous for these. Like their relatives, the American cranberry, they grow quite low to the ground. Native populations are harvested by locals using hand-held wooden tools that look like a small box with a handle and combs on the front. The blueberries can be bought at various little local grocery stores. And they are delicious, with decidedly intense flavor. The best blueberry ever.

Lowbush blueberry colony

The flowers are bell-like, and quite beautiful. Bees love them. One of my research areas at Penn State was on their relative, the Highbush Blueberry (Vaccinum coryumbosum), and it's relationship to a fungal symbiont that helps them to thrive in acid nutrient-poor soils. It's always nice to see an old friend, even if it's a distant cousin.

 The wet fecund nature of these environs is not for everyone. I love the density, variety and richness of life here. And I love the water falling from the sky. But it comes with some decided challenges. 

Things grow everywhere

I will endeavor to tell you The Truth about those in coming posts!

A clearing along the way

The Local

 

It's so easy to take the most local trail for granted. The one outside your door. We have been fortunate to always live close to great places to walk. I can pretend no great knowing or planning or researching to find this place, but we did have good intuition about it. I often drive to other trailheads, but really, none are lovelier, or have more variety than The Local.

Much of the trail looks approximately like the image above. Trails in a forest, leaves on the ground, Jasper.

A friend gave Jasper this very chik scarf. Stylish and practical. Not only is it that garish hunter's orange, but it's got permethrin in it to ward off ticks.

I'd like to give you a small tour of The Local. Today when I actually remembered to bring my phone, and I looked at the trail in a different way, since I wanted to be able to show it to you. It's a conundrum for me. I hate having the interruption of a phone, and I feel like if I'm taking pictures, I'm thinking about the future, not basking in the present. However! There's no denying that I see things differently when I'm photographing them. Here are some of the sights that I see on this hour-long (roughly) hike!

It begins here. The edge of our driveway, through the septic drain field and. . .

. . into the woods. There is a long downward slope for about a quarter mile until the trail opens up to the right or left.

The bottom of the trail opens up to a wider area, which eventually joins up to the Messalonskee Stream Trails. 

I think the thing I most love about these Maine forests (and Eastern forests in general) is their complexity. There are so many tree species: Pines, Hemlocks, Spruce, and then the deciduous trees: Beech, Birch, Ash, Maples. So many Maples. The Hemlocks are particular favorites. I just love their feathery softness.

This one marks a turn just down our hill. The new growth on evergreens are called "candles". Fresh light green tufts of photosynthetic wonder. . .

Light green candles.

The forest floor is also amazing in it's complexity, though it often has drifts of low plants that dominate a certain section of the woods. These are ferns, which are incredibly lush and multitudinous. [OK. When I start using words like "multitudinous", we know I'm getting tired. . . ]

This is a drift of yellow violets. I've never seen this many yellow violets in one place before! They like the margins between the trail (where there is light) and the forest edge.

And here is a closeup of the flowers. Very sweet. And curiously strong. 

Well. I'm realizing that this post is getting overly long, and I need to eat dinner. I'll continue tomorrow: The Local, part II.

Hiking and not-so-buried treasure. . .

 

We have, whether by design or accident, once again stumbled into a world in which there are tons of places to hike. Jasper gets a morning hike, of course. . . at least an hour off leash, but we also have taken to visiting new places, and finding a hike along the way. The view to the left is from the top of French Mountain, which is close to where we vacationed 30-some years ago. The view is the north end of Great Pond. Mainers are very understated, so a huge glacial lake is called a pond. The Messalonskee stream is the size of the Boise River. Creeks are barely mentioned. However, the image of the taciturn Mainer has not been our experience. They are a garrulous lot. The fellow who came to take measurements for our deck left us with more information about his kids and spouse than I have about my own! 

Anyway, we sat on this rock, drank wine and ate some sort of wonderful baked good on Mother's Day. Jasper is always happy to go along. 

The ferns in the yard are also coming along, and the lilacs and bleeding hearts are at full throat. It's hard not to love spring.

Oh. And the day I last described as too hot for May in Maine was indeed so. We broke the record for heat on that day by 5F. (!) Fortunately, yesterday was rainy and cool, and today was just beautiful. We're expecting more rain tomorrow. I love it so much. John baked cookies yesterday, though that activity is usually reserved for snow days. To be fair, he also dug an incredible trench for a driveway drain. Between that, and the gutter buys finally making their way to us (after 6 months of waiting), we should be able to avoid the ice rink in the driveway next winter.

To the left is Jasper on another local trail. It's called the Rotary Trail (romantic, no?), and it runs along the Kennebec River for several miles. It looks like it's an old railroad trail, though I don't know for sure. It has several entree's down to the river. None of our trails have been crowded to date. In fact, it's not unusual for me to not see another person. And I love the fact that the signs say "Dogs must be under control", rather than "Dogs must be leashed".

 

A couple more photos:

The ferns are moving along!

Lilacs in bloom. A little later than in Idaho.

 John and I sat under our covered deck and watched the rain and a hummingbird feed on these bleeding hearts. She like both kinds (this traditional one, and the lacey leafed variety), but tried everything in the garden, including the seed in the birdfeeder. Not to her liking. Where is the hummingbird feeder?

 

I'll finish up this post with a couple of videos. The one above is from a favorite hike with Jasper. It's the Messalonski trail, which is accessible from the back of our house, but I like to start at the trail head which is about a five minute drive from our house. Be sure to turn on the sound.

 

 

 

This last one is, amazingly, from John. He was paddling along fishing in his float tube in McGrath Lake, and he caught these loons diving with his phone. Loons are a big reason to live here. They are the most curious and beautiful of creatures. Sacred, I'd say. 

Where the Garden Gets Going. . .

 

Jasper loves all of the views from his level. Preferably laying down. These ears and eyes keep watch whenever we're in the house. I am embarrassed by how much I love them. Smile.

But we're spending less and less time inside. Between hiking, fishing, biking and outdoor homeowner projects, we're outside a lot. 

Oh. And the garden. Or maybe I should say "The Grounds". I planted my seedling vegetables this week, as well as the whole herb garden. I realized belatedly that I had forgotten the Parsley, but we'll find a place to seed them.There is still room in the spaces around the new concrete patio, so that may work.

Our fledgling and very small vegetable garden is planted in these boxes. The two together are about the same size as we had in our last house. You can hardly see the tomatoes right now, but that should change considerably in a couple of weeks. 

We had a 93F day today! Very high by Maine standards. The humidity isn't too bad, but it still feels hot, and I keep sprinkling the seedlings to reduce their stress.

Our two peach trees are in full bloom. I have to confess great skepticism at peaches in USDA zone 5a. It's a cold climate for this species. Still, there was a load of peaches hanging on one of these trees when we first saw the house last July. 

It could happen!

And the asparagus have just made an entrance. We were concerned about them. The rhubarb was up and running, and the asparagus were still nowhere. Once they start, though, they really run with it.

And finally, I've uploaded two halves of a video of our new back patio area. This program thought the combined one was too large, so I hope you won't have too wait too long for them to load.

Turn the sound on, by the way. The "Mint-gone-wild" will be a lifelong challenge. I think the owners threw mulch over the mint, and the roots have spread throughout the garden, protected by the mulch. Oy.

 

 Finally, speaking of challenges, we are indeed getting black flies, as predicted. We also have a small wetland in part of our 5 acre forest, so mosquitos will also be an issue. No surprise there, but the screened pop-up is definitely a life saver. We're contemplating a screened porch in the future, but the current roof lines won't allow it over the patio. Sooo. . . . we'll keep calm and carry on!

 

So what about the winter?

It's really spring here. Truly. Ferns are emerging. . . they don't sprout or germinate. The EMERGE, slowly unfolding themselves like ballerina's unbending from low and somber bows.  They are fascinating and primitive. Maine may be The Pine State, but ferns don't need to brag. Maine is also The Fern State. And the mushroom state, but that's for another post.

Given that we moved here in September, it's a shame that I don't have any images of winter. I will post some eventually, but it's taken me this long to actually figure out how to start a new online journal. I am definitely slower than I once was, but faster than I'll be, to paraphrase Paul Simon.

I just got my vegetable garden planted. Oddly, the frost dates for Oakland, Maine and Boise, Idaho are the same. . .May 15th. Ok. So I'm pushing it a little bit. Three days early.

I want to leave you with an iconic image that John shot. This is why I love this place. Woods, water, ferns and forests. There are a lot of other reasons, but given that I just figured out how to get this journal up and running (. . and yes. I hate the word "blog"), I'm going to get it posted and sleep well in the knowledge that I can once again share my world with you all.