Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
April 2019
Richard, Silas and Pester on March 22, 2019
“There is nothing permanent except
change.”
Heraclitus
Like many people, we wanted a place in
the country, and years ago we made that happen.
Ours became a place not just “in”
the country, but part of the country it is in. We rescued our acreage
from the damages that were being done to some of it.
We tucked in a little house well off
the road, adding to it here and there over the years. We added very
few outbuildings. The barn was built way in the back, on a spot the
former owner had already scraped up, that he intended as a future
office for his planned mobile home court.
November 6, 2017 - Our homestead from up the road - imagine this as a mobile home court
The land remained in crops and
woodland, except for the large area in front that has consisted of
many gardens, fruit trees, and resting cover crop plots. We've made
many changes over the years, but always with respect to this land,
always keeping the views we have been so fortunate to enjoy - of
woods, fields, sunrise, sunset, starry sky.
I created this blog as philosophical
writing springing from the views out our windows. Those views rarely
change, except for the changes that come with seasons and the
weather, changes in a garden, or some small change we've created (a
new fence, a new tree, etc.).
Over the years, our views out the front
windows have not really changed much. Since 1986, we've watched families
grow and change at the homestead that has been across the road since
the 1940's. We have had a clear view of “neighbor Fred”, across
the broad crop field, where we see him stroll from house to barn,
then hear the buzz of power tools and wonder what new thing he is
creating. The only thing we have seen between our place and his has
been occasional farm machinery working the field.
September 24, 2018 - our crop field on the right
March 21, 2018 - the tiny glimmer of Fred and Mary's lights across the snowy landscape
October 14, 2014 view from the screened porch
October 14, 2014 - unobscured view of the distant tree line from the screened porch
Every other year, when I walk down the
road, I have walked through a tunnel of tall corn growing in our
field and the one across.
August 7, 2017
Shortly after we moved here, a retired
couple built a nice little A-frame that is somewhat visible from our
place. But, they purposely tucked it into a tree-surrounded clearing,
and took care of all of the trees (and associated wildlife) on their
land. We became very good friends.
Much of the year, our views of distant
places and horizons are obscured by the growth of summer, autumn
leaves, and our busy-ness with our own activities, including
gardening and renovations.
September 23, 2018
October 2, 2018
Little did we know how much our view
would change, how utterly different things would look from out front
windows, especially during the times of year when our view is not
obscured. And we really had hardly any warning (which is unusual out here).
During the summer of 2018, I paced out
a future “prairie plot” at the front of our property, above the
road (and above where the blades of the county mower would reach). I
laid down plastic that was intended to work as a “burn-out”,
killing the grass underneath so that I could plant in 2019. My
intention was (and is) to put in meadow plants native to our area,
and to add on plots every year until the garden stretches across the
front area. It would be obviously visible to all who
drive/walk/bicycle by. The plan is to register the garden with
everything I can (National Wildlife, Million Pollinator Gardens
project, etc.) and get signs for each one to put along the front. In
other words, this native meadow is intended to serve the neighbors
and passers-by with enjoyment as well as education.
While I was beginning the plot, trucks
and equipment started showing up on the farmland across the road.
Since it was not agricultural equipment, none of it seemed to me to
belong there.
August 24, 2018
Over time, more and more trucks and equipment arrived. They moved right onto the land.
Then, earth was being moved.
October 25, 2018 - Equipment barely seen through our trees
This view just seemed too weird!
During the period leading up to
Christmas, rapid activity took place. A house started to take shape.
At this point, our view became drastically altered. This new view was
being incorporated into our regular activities.
October 29 2018 - this is not farm equipment
October 30, 2018 - another view, from the road - our homestead in the center distance
November 1, 2018 - equipment seen through the trees on the left
November 14, 2018
December 11, 2018 - Suddenly, a house!
December 23, 2018 - Hawthorn berries, with new house in distance (far right)
I found myself trying to come to terms
with this. After all, we'd had the same open, bucolic view for
thirty-two years!! The only thing I missed was the group of Weeping
Willows that used to grace the far side of the field. They were the
first brush of light green I would see in early spring from our
windows. But, they were removed long ago. I had since learned
that Weeping Willows are not only not native here, but possibly
invasive.
Every day I wondered – how long was
it going to take me to get used to a house being – right there??
They were building not far from the road, and not far from the next (1940's) homestead, unlike anyone else.
January 9, 2019
January 10, 2019
January 11, 2019
January 19, 2019
January 26, 2019
February 13, 2019
We had seen very few homes added since
we had added ours. All have been tucked well off the road, or in the
nooks near groves of trees, pretty much a part of their landscape.
One family even converted a lean-to machine shed into a small house!!
Mainly, houses here have been unobtrusive. They have fit in. And
rarely have they taken farmland out of production (with the exception
of one estate down the road).
But, this new house is the first one to
seem … suburban. On farm land. Close to the road. It's just so …
right there, at least from our point of view (and neighbor Fred's).
“Nothing is so painful to the
human mind as a great and sudden change”
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, in Frankenstein
People who already live in a suburban
situation might not understand my feelings. They've been living in a
place where almost everything is like that.
But, this place – it was never like
that. Homes have come and gone over many years before Richard and I
arrived, and sometimes I'm surprised by the descriptions when I learn
a new part of this immediate area's history. Still, they always have
been a part of their surroundings, not abodes suddenly appearing in
the open – on farmland. It's just never been like that here.
“If you don't like something,
change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude.”
Maya Angelou
But, I'm a positive, optimistic person
who does not stay long disappointed, but looks for solutions or a new
attitude.
I know that these are nice people, and
they will be good neighbors. I sometimes watch their industriousness
in accomplishing this goal, and sense their excitement as it becomes,
visibly, closer to what they envision as their home, which reminds me
of our own excitement when our little home was taking shape. I hear
the excitement in their voices when their little grand-daughter comes
skipping over from next door, so delighted that her grandparents will
be her neighbors. I see the four young Oak trees that were
temporarily removed, tucked in carefully to a mound of earth,
awaiting replanting, and I wonder where they will be planted, where I
will see them become taller and larger. I see an enclosed porch
appear in back and can imagine them looking forward to spending time
there, enjoying the breezes and birdsong, just as we do on our
screened porch (but, I wonder if they realize how close they are to the buzzing sound of Neighbor Fred's power tools). I wonder what kind of Christmas decorations they might display.
“The world as we have created it
is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing
our thinking.”
Albert Einstein
Otherwise, I have certain strong hopes.
I hope that they put in native plants, or at least not plant anything
invasive (our county's new invasive plants ordinance does not go into
effect until January of next year!) I hope they do not put up a
“security light”. Those are unnecessary out here (we started out
with one and soon found that out) and they add further to “light
pollution”, making this wonderful starry sky less starry. I hope
that they will feel free to stop and talk with us, and that we will
get to know each other. For years, this has been a real “country
place” where all neighbors (and that means people within a few
miles radius) knew each other, would stop by to talk with you if you
were outside working, would share things, would look out for each
other. Some newer neighbors have not had that same sense of “country
neighbors”, and that is a change I really regret to see.
Meanwhile, I am trying to get used to a
house being … right there.
March 4, 2019
March 9, 2019 - storm
The thought has crossed my mind, in
recent years; “What if so many people move into this area, so many
new homes are built (on former farmland) that it becomes more like a
'burb'? What if it gets more like the large acreage behind ours that
was once rolling farmland with a house and outbuildings in the
middle, that we used to think of as resembling James Herriott
country, but which became a subdivision full of many houses? I have
never gotten used to seeing the houses at the back of that, hearing
cars on that gravel road, etc.
I made myself turn around and face that
thought … just in case. We don't currently have plans to move.
We've been working hard on this place for years. It is home.
But, what if?
I thought about things I could do to
move along with that, but retain what we are:
- Keep doing all that we do – woodland, gardens, orchard, encouraging wildlife, cleaning out invasive plants, having a farmer work our crop fields.
- Keep developing the “prairie plots”, or meadows, across the front, with the registry signs.
- Put up a pay-in-kind vegetable stand out front (and, if we ever have chickens again, a spot also to sell excess eggs)
- Share things with neighbors: garden produce (and maybe eggs), homemade bread, seeds, skills they might need that we have, stories of people who used to live here, etc.
- If I ever get those two Nubian (pet) goats - offer to take them to neighbors' places to eat down their weeds.
- Put up a “Little Free Library” out front, between the prairie plots and driveway, for people to share books. I would make it colorful, whimsical, really fun and unique.
- Play music on the porch – often – letting traditional Irish music flow out across our land to the ears of anyone living nearby or passing by.
- Put our acreage in some kind of land trust to preserve it in perpetuity, so there will always be a spot of country and woodland left, no matter what else happens.
March 30, 2019 - Now two homesteads across the road, the old and the new
Mostly, though, just hope for the best,
and …
“Life is a series of natural and
spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let
reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way
they like.”
Lao Tzu
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