The Scenic Drive is just a grandiose name for my driveway/cow path. It has, by the way, seen more traffic, probably, in the last year-and-a-half than in its entire previous history. Hospice comes at least five days a week every week, I run a short errand or two every day, family visitors have been by, and even the mailman comes down the drive this time of year to deliver bulbs to be added to next year's flower displays. Poor old driveway--traffic, traffic, traffic. You can't see a great deal of wear and tear except for one section that has worn down but only in one tire "track." No, I don't know how that works. Tilted driving. At least on the lawn mower. Yep, I have to mow my driveway.
The historical key, of course, is how scenic is the view as you meander down the drive? Can you drive from County Road 25 up to the house and actually see some of the beauty scattered here on the Acres? Of course! I must admit, though, that it had some beauty marks before I arrived. There's a gnarled old apple tree gorgeous in white blooms in the spring. Interestingly, there's a good size new apple tree coming up right in the middle of the old one. (Gives you some idea how long it's been there.) The second spring I was here the old veteran tree barely bloomed. Mom suggested that I "jolt" it out of its apathy by driving a few old rusty nails into its trunk. What did I have to lose? In went the nails. Presto! Full of blooms every spring since. Nope, I can't explain the logic or the horticultural implications, but I can attest to the outcome. A lovely blanket of white every April.
Also, along the driveway is the ancient red maple. The bark is distinctive all by itself year around. And in the fall the leaves are breath-taking--a tree on fire. And if beauty doesn't take your breath away, I pity you.
Three other trees were along the "scenic drive" as well when I took ownership. Just past the maple are a redbud and a white crab apple right next to each other. In the spring the mesh of red and white is stunning. And right across from these two competing beauties is an old dogwood. A mound of white blooms itself in April. In the winter the crab apples and dogwood are covered with red berries that sparkle in the snow. I must "tip my hat" to the previous owners, whoever they were, that planted these lovelies before I came. They must have seen me coming. Yes, I must admit, the "scenic view" was already lovely especially in March and April. And, of course, the red maple owns October.
Was I satisfied with the view along the driveway? Of course not. I have added a few beauties myself. Some are already on display; others are still maturing for later "wows." First, a "tourist" can see seven or eight of the Acre's flowers beds as they cruise down the path. And I added a new one this fall: a little iris bed of yellow, orange, apricot, and gold for hopefully next May and certainly for the Mays to come. Any slight glance left or right will bring resplendent flower beds into view as you drive SLOWLY done the lane.
In addition, I've added a couple of Rose of Sharon--pink, a flowering plum--white with purple leaves all summer long, a lilac bush (roll down the window for the scent)--lavender in spring and again in the fall, another redbud--already mature enough to bloom, and a forsythia--yellow someday. There's also a giant willow; I love its silvery shimmering. (Tip: willows grow like crazy!) This one has also proved its toughness by surviving a deer attack its first spring.
Flower-wise I've added two bouquets of Siberian and Japanese iris at the bend in the driveway. It's low there and thus under water whenever there's a heavy rain. Most of the winter, in fact, it's frozen over. (Yep, ice.) But the Siberian and Japanese iris don't mind wet feet. And as an added bonus, they bloom later than their German and Dutch cousins--June instead of May. (In fact, the largest Japanese iris usually doesn't bloom until July--purple and white.) This fall I'm going to add some camassia to the bouquets. They don't mind wet feet either, and they'll add some gorgeous purple blooms in April and early May.
There are also some small ferns along the drive, a row of hosta (5) that bloom in July, a hydrangea that will bloom one of these Junes, an immature dogwood--no blooms yet, a few crocus in late March, two hibiscus--plum and white in August, a couple small junipers, two miniscule Arbor foundation trees that I'll have to live thirty years to see mature into "real" trees, three lovely burning bush for October, and a couple "patches" of morning glories all summer long.
All in all, the "scenic drive" offers beauty from March to frost. (Not including the berries in the snow.) Sorry, there's no scenic overview to pull into, but if you just drive up to the house, you can park your car and walk back, do the drive in reverse. Walking Iten's Acres is better than a scenic drive anyway. Walk slowly so you don't miss anything. And come back periodically--the scenery is always changing. And the change is lovely.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
The History of Iten's Acres: Chapter 2 The Rising Sun
The history of the eastern side of Iten's Acres is in some ways like most of the rest of my property. Not much was there when I arrived six plus years ago to make it home. What I mean by the eastern side is the area from the corkscrew willow (mentioned in Chapter 1) back to the bog surrounding the pond. A third of this area--the twenty to thirty yards or so that "hide" Aaron's house from my land--does have a hedge of sorts. There is a beautiful pine separated from the "hedge" by a few feet and then a row of mostly pine trees with an abundance of brambles in front of and beneath the trees. The brambles do contain a myriad of everlasting sweet pea vines with gorgeous pink blooms (odorless) from late May to mid-June. (I have no idea how they got the "official" descriptor "everlasting." And they are non-native plants, but beautiful nonetheless.) I have tried to introduce some other color to the brambles with modest success. I have just introduced a few of the common orange daylilies along the front--one of them bloomed this year already--and they are all doing well. I anticipate their spreading out to add color from mid-June to mid-July. They are hardy things. Just drive along most of the country roads here in Morrow County, and you'll see huge--and I do mean huge--patches of them, bigger patches each year. I also have tried to get some morning glories started here without much success, (Not that I'll quit trying yet). I think I had a couple purple ones this July. The problem, I believe, is that the area is shaded most of the morning--not exactly a plus for "morning" glories, eh? But you know the old adage: "If at first you don't succeed, try, try, again." Don't mind if I do. Thanks.
I'm really not sure--not that it matters--if the trees and the thicket are on my property or Aaron's. It would seem that they are on the imaginary property line, but who placed them there is anyone's guess--Aaron's predecessors or mine? Who knows? (And anyone doesn't live here.) The only "boundary line" on the rest of the eastern side--from the willow to the hedge--is where Aaron has his manicured "city" lawn, and I have my mongrel "country" lawn. I was going to have a satellite reading when I first bought the acres to determine exactly where my property line was but when I found out how much the "service" would cost, I decided guessing was fine.
Aaron's new lawn is the extension of his new home. When I first moved here, Aaron and his family (minus little Gage who just arrived a little over a year ago) lived in a house trailer of sorts. But the first year I was here, it burned down. I was coming home late at night from attending a soccer game at school and behold! there was a plethora of firetrucks and police cars in front of my property and Aaron's. A couple of the firetrucks were in my driveway! I thought that I was going to be homeless after two months as a first time home owner. I would be dishonest if I didn't tell you that I felt relief when I discovered that the trucks were on my property in order to use my pond water to spray Aaron's house. Selfish, I know. But I did feel relief. The "all things work together for good" from all this is that Aaron who works in construction was able to use the insurance money to build himself by himself a gorgeous new home--and a new lawn. It helps to have talent, eh? I'd still be living in a tent.
Anyway, I digress. (That's for you Katie if you happen to be reading these.) The rest of the "east," as I already mentioned, was barren of trees and shrubs. Naturally, I immediately started my beautification project. Now, from the willow to the thicket I have two Rose of Sharon from mom's, a witch Hazel, two hibiscus, a peony, a flowering plum, a flowering almond, a redbud, a hawthorn, a regular willow, a white birch, and two river birch. Most of these will not reach anything close to maturity in my lifetime. They are Arbor foundation "babies." My gifts for who comes next.
The willow and the birches are, of course, non-bloomers. I put them here because the property along this side tends to be wet and soggy with the slightest rainfall. They are all doing fine and one of the river birch and the willow, especially the willow, are growing quite well. The beauty of the willow is that its leaves have a silver reflection to them in the wind. The bark of the birches as they grow will be quite distinctive and lovely as well, especially in the winter.
Some of the other things have started blooming already. The Rose of Sharon--double pinks, one of the hibiscus--white with a maroon center, and the flowering almond--a soft pink. [Advertisement: if you're looking for a shrub that blooms early in its life span, go for the flowering almond. It starts blooming its first spring even if it's only a foot tall--or less.] If the Lord blesses me with my three score and ten years--five more years--I expect the witch Hazel--yellow, the peony--purple, the flowering plum--white, and the other hibiscus--who knows?, to all be blooming each and every spring and summer in their proper times. Beauty from April to September! Can't wait!
And I am adding a small--miniscule--flower bed over here this fall. Would you believe an iris bed? Surprise! Surprise! With some room for some annuals from mid-May to frost--probably marigolds.
Hmmm. I thought Chapter 2 was going to be quite short. Ahhh well. I enjoyed telling it. Hope you endured to the end.
I'm really not sure--not that it matters--if the trees and the thicket are on my property or Aaron's. It would seem that they are on the imaginary property line, but who placed them there is anyone's guess--Aaron's predecessors or mine? Who knows? (And anyone doesn't live here.) The only "boundary line" on the rest of the eastern side--from the willow to the hedge--is where Aaron has his manicured "city" lawn, and I have my mongrel "country" lawn. I was going to have a satellite reading when I first bought the acres to determine exactly where my property line was but when I found out how much the "service" would cost, I decided guessing was fine.
Aaron's new lawn is the extension of his new home. When I first moved here, Aaron and his family (minus little Gage who just arrived a little over a year ago) lived in a house trailer of sorts. But the first year I was here, it burned down. I was coming home late at night from attending a soccer game at school and behold! there was a plethora of firetrucks and police cars in front of my property and Aaron's. A couple of the firetrucks were in my driveway! I thought that I was going to be homeless after two months as a first time home owner. I would be dishonest if I didn't tell you that I felt relief when I discovered that the trucks were on my property in order to use my pond water to spray Aaron's house. Selfish, I know. But I did feel relief. The "all things work together for good" from all this is that Aaron who works in construction was able to use the insurance money to build himself by himself a gorgeous new home--and a new lawn. It helps to have talent, eh? I'd still be living in a tent.
Anyway, I digress. (That's for you Katie if you happen to be reading these.) The rest of the "east," as I already mentioned, was barren of trees and shrubs. Naturally, I immediately started my beautification project. Now, from the willow to the thicket I have two Rose of Sharon from mom's, a witch Hazel, two hibiscus, a peony, a flowering plum, a flowering almond, a redbud, a hawthorn, a regular willow, a white birch, and two river birch. Most of these will not reach anything close to maturity in my lifetime. They are Arbor foundation "babies." My gifts for who comes next.
The willow and the birches are, of course, non-bloomers. I put them here because the property along this side tends to be wet and soggy with the slightest rainfall. They are all doing fine and one of the river birch and the willow, especially the willow, are growing quite well. The beauty of the willow is that its leaves have a silver reflection to them in the wind. The bark of the birches as they grow will be quite distinctive and lovely as well, especially in the winter.
Some of the other things have started blooming already. The Rose of Sharon--double pinks, one of the hibiscus--white with a maroon center, and the flowering almond--a soft pink. [Advertisement: if you're looking for a shrub that blooms early in its life span, go for the flowering almond. It starts blooming its first spring even if it's only a foot tall--or less.] If the Lord blesses me with my three score and ten years--five more years--I expect the witch Hazel--yellow, the peony--purple, the flowering plum--white, and the other hibiscus--who knows?, to all be blooming each and every spring and summer in their proper times. Beauty from April to September! Can't wait!
And I am adding a small--miniscule--flower bed over here this fall. Would you believe an iris bed? Surprise! Surprise! With some room for some annuals from mid-May to frost--probably marigolds.
Hmmm. I thought Chapter 2 was going to be quite short. Ahhh well. I enjoyed telling it. Hope you endured to the end.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The History of Iten's Acres: Chapter 1 Untitled
I want to begin my "history" by talking about the very front of Iten's Acres--not the entire front of an acre or so, but the front front. That's why I don't have a title for Chapter 1. Calling it "The Front" could be confusing, and it's certainly mundane. (What writer wants to major in the mundane?) On the other hand, a title like "The Facade" or "The Foyer" would be way too pretentious and border on the inane. "The Entrance" might work, not that that's an attention grabber for the reading public. Any suggestions would be welcome.
When I first made Iten's Acres my home, there were three distinguishing natural landmarks on the property. First, there was a huge conifer to the left of the driveway about half way to its bend. It's about sixty feet tall, at least, and has stunning scarlet pine cones in the spring. The second "natural wonder" was a majestic, gnarled, old maple at the very bend in the driveway. That first autumn revealed it to be a red maple--ooh la la. It is certainly worthy of a photo shoot each and every fall. Wonder number three is a gigantic dead tree on the edge of the pond--its guardian, if not the guardian for the entire acres. Who knew dead trees could be breath-taking?
Sadly, though, when I arrived, the very front front of the property had nothing--blank. Perhaps, I should pause here to major in the mundane and define for you the area I'm historizing. It's basically the first twenty to thirty yards or so of Iten's Acres. The driveway/cowpath dissects it but not evenly. There are about ten yards to the right of the driveway until you reach the boundary line and about fifty or so to the left. And it's a low area. When it rains a lot, it's soggy, like walking on a bog--squish, squish with every step. My entire property is actually a low area. Dennis' property to my west is even worse than mine up front. It floods. When he first moved there, he tried to keep it cut, but soon gave up and just let it grow except for right next to his driveway. By the way, the result of that choice is that he has a lovely "forest" from the road to his secluded home in the middle of his acres. He planted two gorgeous weeping willows at the very front as well. It's quite picturesque. Aaron's property to my right--east--just has a small wet area near the front adjacent to mine. When he built a new house, he put in a real lawn and tried to level off the property. "The best laid plans of mice and men"--it's worse. I have not copied either of my neighbors. My acres aren't as wet as Dennis' and a real lawn seems unnatural--"uncountry"--if I can coin a new word.
So, leaving that long and winding rabbit trail behind us--what did I do with my property? I just planted a row of trees. Exciting, eh? To the right of the driveway I planted a corkscrew willow and a rose of Sharon. The willow loves being in the wet and is thriving. The rose of Sharon will thrive one of these years if I or my neighbor can just stop mowing it down every spring. At least, it's still alive, immune to all attempts to destroy it. To the left of the driveway, I planted three maples, a hawthorn, and a white paper birch. They are all quite small (one maple is twenty feet or so high), and all but the birch are doing well. I picked three different maples for autumn variety, the birch for its bark, and the hawthorn for spring blooms and winter berries for the birds. Unless I live to be 97 like Mom, the maples will never reach spectacular in my lifetime, but they become more lovely every year. The hawthorn should be blooming in another three to five years, and the rose of Sharon even sooner. Hopefully, I can replace the birch with a tree that is actually mature enough to show off its white bark. Then, even if it dies, it will be beautiful. The goal was to produce a "screen" to hide my house even more completely in the spring and summer from travelers on the road. Now, that I think about it, a mini Dennis effect, I suppose. I think I may add a weeping willow as well, next to the maples. (Shhh, don't tell Dennis I'm stealing his ideas.)
The drawback at this point in the history of my acres is that there is not yet much color up here in the front. Some leaves on the maples in the fall is about all I've got. A new bigger version of the birch will help, and the willow is lovely in the winter when the limbs are covered in snow, and someday the hawthorn will have white flowers in the spring and red berries in the winter, but for now, nada. (If you've never seen male cardinals feasting in a hawthorn tree in a snowstorm, stay by your phone, and I'll give you a call some cold November in about five years or so. It will be worth the wait; I promise. Gorgeous site.) But, ahhh, what to do in the meantime? Behold! I have a plan to remedy the entrance. This fall I'm putting a host of orange day lilies along the front by the maples and a bed of various blue iris to the very right of the driveway in front of the willow and rose of Sharon. It will be the first thing visitors see when they pull on the property. And from the middle of May on, I'll put some annuals in the bed. And someday the rose of Sharon will bloom in late August. Sounds lovely, don't you think? A plethora of orange--more and more each year--on one side of the entrance and in May a "pond" of blue iris on the other side. Ta Da! Color!
And so, I abruptly end Chapter 1--still looking for a title.
When I first made Iten's Acres my home, there were three distinguishing natural landmarks on the property. First, there was a huge conifer to the left of the driveway about half way to its bend. It's about sixty feet tall, at least, and has stunning scarlet pine cones in the spring. The second "natural wonder" was a majestic, gnarled, old maple at the very bend in the driveway. That first autumn revealed it to be a red maple--ooh la la. It is certainly worthy of a photo shoot each and every fall. Wonder number three is a gigantic dead tree on the edge of the pond--its guardian, if not the guardian for the entire acres. Who knew dead trees could be breath-taking?
Sadly, though, when I arrived, the very front front of the property had nothing--blank. Perhaps, I should pause here to major in the mundane and define for you the area I'm historizing. It's basically the first twenty to thirty yards or so of Iten's Acres. The driveway/cowpath dissects it but not evenly. There are about ten yards to the right of the driveway until you reach the boundary line and about fifty or so to the left. And it's a low area. When it rains a lot, it's soggy, like walking on a bog--squish, squish with every step. My entire property is actually a low area. Dennis' property to my west is even worse than mine up front. It floods. When he first moved there, he tried to keep it cut, but soon gave up and just let it grow except for right next to his driveway. By the way, the result of that choice is that he has a lovely "forest" from the road to his secluded home in the middle of his acres. He planted two gorgeous weeping willows at the very front as well. It's quite picturesque. Aaron's property to my right--east--just has a small wet area near the front adjacent to mine. When he built a new house, he put in a real lawn and tried to level off the property. "The best laid plans of mice and men"--it's worse. I have not copied either of my neighbors. My acres aren't as wet as Dennis' and a real lawn seems unnatural--"uncountry"--if I can coin a new word.
So, leaving that long and winding rabbit trail behind us--what did I do with my property? I just planted a row of trees. Exciting, eh? To the right of the driveway I planted a corkscrew willow and a rose of Sharon. The willow loves being in the wet and is thriving. The rose of Sharon will thrive one of these years if I or my neighbor can just stop mowing it down every spring. At least, it's still alive, immune to all attempts to destroy it. To the left of the driveway, I planted three maples, a hawthorn, and a white paper birch. They are all quite small (one maple is twenty feet or so high), and all but the birch are doing well. I picked three different maples for autumn variety, the birch for its bark, and the hawthorn for spring blooms and winter berries for the birds. Unless I live to be 97 like Mom, the maples will never reach spectacular in my lifetime, but they become more lovely every year. The hawthorn should be blooming in another three to five years, and the rose of Sharon even sooner. Hopefully, I can replace the birch with a tree that is actually mature enough to show off its white bark. Then, even if it dies, it will be beautiful. The goal was to produce a "screen" to hide my house even more completely in the spring and summer from travelers on the road. Now, that I think about it, a mini Dennis effect, I suppose. I think I may add a weeping willow as well, next to the maples. (Shhh, don't tell Dennis I'm stealing his ideas.)
The drawback at this point in the history of my acres is that there is not yet much color up here in the front. Some leaves on the maples in the fall is about all I've got. A new bigger version of the birch will help, and the willow is lovely in the winter when the limbs are covered in snow, and someday the hawthorn will have white flowers in the spring and red berries in the winter, but for now, nada. (If you've never seen male cardinals feasting in a hawthorn tree in a snowstorm, stay by your phone, and I'll give you a call some cold November in about five years or so. It will be worth the wait; I promise. Gorgeous site.) But, ahhh, what to do in the meantime? Behold! I have a plan to remedy the entrance. This fall I'm putting a host of orange day lilies along the front by the maples and a bed of various blue iris to the very right of the driveway in front of the willow and rose of Sharon. It will be the first thing visitors see when they pull on the property. And from the middle of May on, I'll put some annuals in the bed. And someday the rose of Sharon will bloom in late August. Sounds lovely, don't you think? A plethora of orange--more and more each year--on one side of the entrance and in May a "pond" of blue iris on the other side. Ta Da! Color!
And so, I abruptly end Chapter 1--still looking for a title.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Audacity
As I begin my seventh year here, I thought I might spend a few blogs writing the "history" (maybe even a little geographical information) of Iten's Acres. Pure audacity, I admit. It's kind of like the Spanish, French, and English explorers who came to the "New World" and claimed to have discovered it and the things in it (Grand Canyon, Great Lakes, Mississippi River, etc.), even though people had made their homes there for thousands of years before they arrived. And then they even dared to name those places! So, I apologize in advance for my imperialistic thinking. Please, forgive me.
Obviously, I know little of the history of my place until I arrived. Is County Road 25 an old wagon trail? Is it an old Indian trail? Five hundred years ago was this meadow I call home a prime hunting area for Native Americans in the area? One hundred years ago was this part of a huge farm or a small family farm filled with the labor and laughter, joys and sorrows of other human beings? I would imagine so. I have trees on my property that are undoubtedly at least a hundred years old or more. Did someone deliberately plant them where they are? Did they come up by "accident"? Were the huge old red maple and the ancient apple tree planted at the turn of the driveway to add beauty to the entrance or was the driveway built between them to preserve their loveliness? When was there first a house on these acres? Why did they pick this spot to build? All of these things I will never know. My place has a history that goes back thousands of years, and I know little of it--and never will know. It is audacious of me, perhaps, to even call it "my place."
I do know a little of what came before me. I suppose I could learn more from my neighbors Dennis and Aaron if I asked. Aaron says he has lived in Morrow County his whole life, but I do not know how long he has lived on the land next to mine. Dennis has been here for at least fifteen years and probably longer. I'm sure they could add to my knowledge. I do know the name of the man I purchased the property from, and I have a vague recollection of his appearance. Perhaps, I could pick him out of a line-up. Perhaps. His memory leaves the proverbial "bad taste" in my mouth. He took things he promised to leave, left things he promised to take, and withheld information that would have undoubtedly caused me to not buy here. And, to be honest, that would have been a tragedy. I have come to love this place, "flaws" and all. It is perfect for my soul and spirit and has been ideal as a place to "home" my mom in her final years. God's grace to the rescue, indeed. By His grace I will spend the rest of my life enjoying this place as "my place on earth." Only one other place that I've lived approaches its meaning in my life. That other place was the little house in Traveler's Rest, South Carolina, where my little boys and I found refuge after our love had been betrayed. (By God's grace, again, I hope that our love for her was not diminished by her choice.) My sister Janice and her husband Dewey made that home possible for us by their sacrificial love. And, yes, it may be that the Lord has other plans for me and will move me again from this place to another. I will be homesick, I'm sure, but His grace is always more than sufficient wherever He leads us. And I shouldn't be so hard on the previous owner. He is responsible for the pond and the bog it created. Both places that I love. And I know he planted the crab apples, red bud, and pines around the pond. He left footprints of beauty here on the acres. Thanks Mike wherever you are.
Anyway, I am going to be audacious in the coming weeks. Talk about (brag about) the things that I have done here that I believe have added to the beauty of Iten's Acres. And I may even try to be "prophetic" and talk about the things I hope to do here in the future, Lord willing. I have given names to the "places" here, names that are no more creative than Grand Canyon or Great Lakes, but names nonetheless. If you're going to be audacious, don't hold back, eh? Perhaps, to my faithful few friends who read this blog, the discussion will seem irrelevant, mundane, maybe even boring. I don't apologize. These "new things" have added to my love for these acres God has given me. And whoever lives here in the future will enjoy them I hope, even if they don't know the "history" of how they got here and what chubby old bald guy planted them here--deliberately. "Walking Iten's Acres" doesn't sound like much of a title for a history book, I know. But it is part of my history. And I hope you can endure my audacity as I reflect on it.
Obviously, I know little of the history of my place until I arrived. Is County Road 25 an old wagon trail? Is it an old Indian trail? Five hundred years ago was this meadow I call home a prime hunting area for Native Americans in the area? One hundred years ago was this part of a huge farm or a small family farm filled with the labor and laughter, joys and sorrows of other human beings? I would imagine so. I have trees on my property that are undoubtedly at least a hundred years old or more. Did someone deliberately plant them where they are? Did they come up by "accident"? Were the huge old red maple and the ancient apple tree planted at the turn of the driveway to add beauty to the entrance or was the driveway built between them to preserve their loveliness? When was there first a house on these acres? Why did they pick this spot to build? All of these things I will never know. My place has a history that goes back thousands of years, and I know little of it--and never will know. It is audacious of me, perhaps, to even call it "my place."
I do know a little of what came before me. I suppose I could learn more from my neighbors Dennis and Aaron if I asked. Aaron says he has lived in Morrow County his whole life, but I do not know how long he has lived on the land next to mine. Dennis has been here for at least fifteen years and probably longer. I'm sure they could add to my knowledge. I do know the name of the man I purchased the property from, and I have a vague recollection of his appearance. Perhaps, I could pick him out of a line-up. Perhaps. His memory leaves the proverbial "bad taste" in my mouth. He took things he promised to leave, left things he promised to take, and withheld information that would have undoubtedly caused me to not buy here. And, to be honest, that would have been a tragedy. I have come to love this place, "flaws" and all. It is perfect for my soul and spirit and has been ideal as a place to "home" my mom in her final years. God's grace to the rescue, indeed. By His grace I will spend the rest of my life enjoying this place as "my place on earth." Only one other place that I've lived approaches its meaning in my life. That other place was the little house in Traveler's Rest, South Carolina, where my little boys and I found refuge after our love had been betrayed. (By God's grace, again, I hope that our love for her was not diminished by her choice.) My sister Janice and her husband Dewey made that home possible for us by their sacrificial love. And, yes, it may be that the Lord has other plans for me and will move me again from this place to another. I will be homesick, I'm sure, but His grace is always more than sufficient wherever He leads us. And I shouldn't be so hard on the previous owner. He is responsible for the pond and the bog it created. Both places that I love. And I know he planted the crab apples, red bud, and pines around the pond. He left footprints of beauty here on the acres. Thanks Mike wherever you are.
Anyway, I am going to be audacious in the coming weeks. Talk about (brag about) the things that I have done here that I believe have added to the beauty of Iten's Acres. And I may even try to be "prophetic" and talk about the things I hope to do here in the future, Lord willing. I have given names to the "places" here, names that are no more creative than Grand Canyon or Great Lakes, but names nonetheless. If you're going to be audacious, don't hold back, eh? Perhaps, to my faithful few friends who read this blog, the discussion will seem irrelevant, mundane, maybe even boring. I don't apologize. These "new things" have added to my love for these acres God has given me. And whoever lives here in the future will enjoy them I hope, even if they don't know the "history" of how they got here and what chubby old bald guy planted them here--deliberately. "Walking Iten's Acres" doesn't sound like much of a title for a history book, I know. But it is part of my history. And I hope you can endure my audacity as I reflect on it.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Misty
Call me "wet behind the ears" but I love walking the acres on a misty rainy day like today. For some reason I find the gentle rain therapeutic. To just walk slowly--well, even more slowly than usual--with the feel of the mist on my face is marvelous. I thought at one time that maybe it was just my naturally melancholic nature meshing with the weather and the grayness, but I don't feel sad as I walk, just at peace. Perhaps some day some psychologist can explain it to me, but for now I'll just walk and enjoy.
I love the rain drops on the flowers and the grass and the leaves. (It's a good time for pictures.) I love the coolness of the air. The birds, too, seem to enjoy the weather. They are active and alive with song. The goldfinch try to lead me away from their nesting place arching their way across the meadow. The field sparrows flit from bramble to bramble but never fly completely away as usual. The song sparrows warble competing arias. The cat bird mews his "song" sitting on top of the highest branch of a small tree. Too bad they haven't learned to purr. The robins, ears cocked to the ground for the sound of worms and dinner, hop seemingly unafraid of the weird human strolling in the rain. What is there about rain that puts us at ease? I even took a chair and just sat for awhile watching the rain and "soaking" it in. Yes, even into my spirit. I could walk in a misty rain all day and be entirely content. My "choir" serenading me (you can have your iPods), my flowers sparkling with rain drops, my soul at ease. Oh, I hope some psychologist isn't actually expecting me to ask him or her why I like such walks in such weather. Not going to happen. If they want, they can come and walk with me in the rain. But silence is required--the sound waves belong to the soft rain and my feathered neighbors.
I love the rain drops on the flowers and the grass and the leaves. (It's a good time for pictures.) I love the coolness of the air. The birds, too, seem to enjoy the weather. They are active and alive with song. The goldfinch try to lead me away from their nesting place arching their way across the meadow. The field sparrows flit from bramble to bramble but never fly completely away as usual. The song sparrows warble competing arias. The cat bird mews his "song" sitting on top of the highest branch of a small tree. Too bad they haven't learned to purr. The robins, ears cocked to the ground for the sound of worms and dinner, hop seemingly unafraid of the weird human strolling in the rain. What is there about rain that puts us at ease? I even took a chair and just sat for awhile watching the rain and "soaking" it in. Yes, even into my spirit. I could walk in a misty rain all day and be entirely content. My "choir" serenading me (you can have your iPods), my flowers sparkling with rain drops, my soul at ease. Oh, I hope some psychologist isn't actually expecting me to ask him or her why I like such walks in such weather. Not going to happen. If they want, they can come and walk with me in the rain. But silence is required--the sound waves belong to the soft rain and my feathered neighbors.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Bed Time
From about the first week of July until at least the first or second week of August, the beauty of Iten's Acres rest almost solely on the flower beds. Not that they don't fulfill their "mission"--more on that in a minute--but because of two other factors, the rest of the property is taking a break. First, the Rose of Sharon and the hibiscus--with a couple of exceptions--do not start really blooming until at least the end of the first week of August. Now, they will be magnificent when the time comes, but the time hasn't come yet. Only one hibiscus--a deep, deep, deep red one blooms in July and only one Rose of Sharon--a bluish purple one--blooms this early as well. When the time comes, there will be almost thirty hibiscus abloom in every shade from pure white to the deep, deep, deep red and every color in between, and there will be another dozen or so Rose of Sharon decorating the landscape--pinks, reds, whites, and the early bird bluish one. When they are all blooming, it's amazing. But, again, it's not "when" yet.
A second reason why the pressure is on the beds is because the wild area is "resting" as well. Oh, there are some black-eyed Susans, some yellow, pink, and red coneflowers, a batch of tall white clover (over my head tall), a few orange daylilies, and some Queen Anne's Lace back there, but this time of year it's primarily an ocean of green--not that I don't love the green. Yet, by the third week of August, the wild area will be an ocean of color. Where will the color come from? Purple, pink, red, and white asters by the hundreds, tall teasels with their lilac waist bands decorated in butterflies, and hundreds upon hundreds of golden rod will transform the wild area. Throw in the black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne's Lace, and coneflowers that are still hanging around, and you wouldn't believe the color. (Though I'll try to prove it to you with some fb pictures.) Oh, and God throws in some deep purple iron weed, a bouquet of blue lobelia, a patch of pink lady's-thumb, and some field thistle with their little red caps just for good measure. In the wild area, He saves the best for last. And He knows how to put on a grand finale, trust me! You should see it on a windy day! (If He does that in that natural world, just think of what's coming later for His children--the best for last.)
But back to the now, and the pressure that's on the flower beds--all twenty plus of them. Just about every bed has a touch of morning glories and some daylilies of some color, And they all have more than that; some much, much more. Can I give you a few examples? I don't want to bore you too much by going through each bed so I'll just highlight a few if you can bear with me a little while longer:
Bed One--the very first bed you see as you enter Iten's Acres is an ocean of morning glories. An eight by eight foot bed of purple, pink, and bi-colored beauties from the first ray of sun until the heat of the day forces them to live up to their name. There are forty to fifty blooms every morning. But that's not all. Rising out of the "ocean"--and they keep their color all day long--are two patches of daylilies--a double orange and a mauve with cream heart, a bouquet of purple bee balm (a plant that lives up to its name; it's literally abuzz all day long), several tall snapdragons, a wine colored hollyhock, a couple gladiolas, and a number of tall cosmos. It's gorgeous.
Bed Eight--this is a blue and purple bed. Right now the center is taken up with a huge light blue spiderwort. Throw in some balloon flowers, a couple of good size Stoke's asters, a bell flower, the blue Rose of Sharon, a regular blue aster, and a pincushion flower (scabiosa), and you have a bed for lovers of blue.
Bed Eleven--this is the bed Mom can see from her window seat. On each end it has two large clumps of sunflowers. The middle has a huge pink coneflower and a pinkish day lily to go along with a variety of cosmos and larkspur. Throughout the bed are a plethora of balloon flowers--blue mostly. And I do mean plethora--forty of fifty blooms. There's also a red gladiola. Mom loves "her bed." She tells everyone who calls about the balloon flowers and sunflowers--though she can never remember the name of the balloon flowers, I don't mind refreshing her memory.
Bed Fourteen: This is the lily bed right next to my house. Tons of lily blooms every day--oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, peaches, creams. Fifty blooms per day at least. There are also a few larkspur, morning glories, and gladiolas joining the celebration.
One more bed if you haven't fallen asleep yet: In the bed along the property line there is a wonderful mixture of phlox and tiger lilies. They are all taller than I am, and there are tons of them. The great thing about phlox is that it spreads so wonderfully, but the new plants are rarely the same color as the original. I started out with two colors and now I have, at least, six or seven varieties. And coming up all around them are these huge orange tiger lilies by the dozen. Lovely. And the phlox will last until frost. They are adored by the hummingbirds and bumble bees. In fact, I think at times, the bees get "drunk" in the midst of them and go into a kind of stupor.
Well, I hope I haven't bored you to death. If only I could accompany the description with a video! And I've only told you about a couple of the beds! I am looking forward to the hibiscus/Rose of Sharon show and the grand finale in the wild area. But I can wait.
A second reason why the pressure is on the beds is because the wild area is "resting" as well. Oh, there are some black-eyed Susans, some yellow, pink, and red coneflowers, a batch of tall white clover (over my head tall), a few orange daylilies, and some Queen Anne's Lace back there, but this time of year it's primarily an ocean of green--not that I don't love the green. Yet, by the third week of August, the wild area will be an ocean of color. Where will the color come from? Purple, pink, red, and white asters by the hundreds, tall teasels with their lilac waist bands decorated in butterflies, and hundreds upon hundreds of golden rod will transform the wild area. Throw in the black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne's Lace, and coneflowers that are still hanging around, and you wouldn't believe the color. (Though I'll try to prove it to you with some fb pictures.) Oh, and God throws in some deep purple iron weed, a bouquet of blue lobelia, a patch of pink lady's-thumb, and some field thistle with their little red caps just for good measure. In the wild area, He saves the best for last. And He knows how to put on a grand finale, trust me! You should see it on a windy day! (If He does that in that natural world, just think of what's coming later for His children--the best for last.)
But back to the now, and the pressure that's on the flower beds--all twenty plus of them. Just about every bed has a touch of morning glories and some daylilies of some color, And they all have more than that; some much, much more. Can I give you a few examples? I don't want to bore you too much by going through each bed so I'll just highlight a few if you can bear with me a little while longer:
Bed One--the very first bed you see as you enter Iten's Acres is an ocean of morning glories. An eight by eight foot bed of purple, pink, and bi-colored beauties from the first ray of sun until the heat of the day forces them to live up to their name. There are forty to fifty blooms every morning. But that's not all. Rising out of the "ocean"--and they keep their color all day long--are two patches of daylilies--a double orange and a mauve with cream heart, a bouquet of purple bee balm (a plant that lives up to its name; it's literally abuzz all day long), several tall snapdragons, a wine colored hollyhock, a couple gladiolas, and a number of tall cosmos. It's gorgeous.
Bed Eight--this is a blue and purple bed. Right now the center is taken up with a huge light blue spiderwort. Throw in some balloon flowers, a couple of good size Stoke's asters, a bell flower, the blue Rose of Sharon, a regular blue aster, and a pincushion flower (scabiosa), and you have a bed for lovers of blue.
Bed Eleven--this is the bed Mom can see from her window seat. On each end it has two large clumps of sunflowers. The middle has a huge pink coneflower and a pinkish day lily to go along with a variety of cosmos and larkspur. Throughout the bed are a plethora of balloon flowers--blue mostly. And I do mean plethora--forty of fifty blooms. There's also a red gladiola. Mom loves "her bed." She tells everyone who calls about the balloon flowers and sunflowers--though she can never remember the name of the balloon flowers, I don't mind refreshing her memory.
Bed Fourteen: This is the lily bed right next to my house. Tons of lily blooms every day--oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, peaches, creams. Fifty blooms per day at least. There are also a few larkspur, morning glories, and gladiolas joining the celebration.
One more bed if you haven't fallen asleep yet: In the bed along the property line there is a wonderful mixture of phlox and tiger lilies. They are all taller than I am, and there are tons of them. The great thing about phlox is that it spreads so wonderfully, but the new plants are rarely the same color as the original. I started out with two colors and now I have, at least, six or seven varieties. And coming up all around them are these huge orange tiger lilies by the dozen. Lovely. And the phlox will last until frost. They are adored by the hummingbirds and bumble bees. In fact, I think at times, the bees get "drunk" in the midst of them and go into a kind of stupor.
Well, I hope I haven't bored you to death. If only I could accompany the description with a video! And I've only told you about a couple of the beds! I am looking forward to the hibiscus/Rose of Sharon show and the grand finale in the wild area. But I can wait.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
The Changing of the Guard (Dog)
I apologize to my canine walking companions for suggesting that they are guard dogs. I was just exercising my literary license and trying to come up with a clever title. Again, my apologizes to Bonnie, Gus, and Stella. None of them are the least bit interested in guarding anything. Well, Bonnie can get a little defensive if another dog approaches the enclosure with Dennis' alpacas and goats, but other than that she's gentle as can be. Oh, she barks if someone comes down her driveway (not mine, of course, but hers), but she's really just letting you know she's there and looking forward to the visit. Gus loves any and all human beings. A thief would be just as welcomed at his house as anyone else as long as he got petted. Stella, who was a little defensive early on, has decided that older little brother has the right approach. Greeting, wagging the tail, and getting petted is a grand idea. So, guard dogs they are not. Anyway, they roam around so much, they probably wouldn't be home to guard anything anyway. Many are the times that I have come home late at night to be greeted by Bonnie and Gus who have been out wandering and thought they would stop by for a second to welcome my return. My house could have been emptied out, but at least they were glad to see me. (Though, I must confess, the first time they came running out of the darkness to say "welcome home," I was not expecting it and may have lost a few years off my life.)
But how has the "guard" changed, you ask? The first year or two that I lived here only Bonnie was around, and I really didn't see her much unless I was talking to Dennis. She rarely walked with me. Once Gus arrived and the two of them decided to form a "pack" of two, they began to accompany me on my walks on Iten's Acres. Usually three or four times a week, they would join me at the mailbox and away we would go. On occasion, they would come to meet me at the mailbox, get their affection, and go their own way, but usually, they would "join" me on my treks. They would stay fairly close to me as a wandered out front, but once I got to the back of the property, they usually left me far behind and wandered at their own speed--much faster than mine--through the meadow, wild area, and beyond. Gus would usually reappear for the walk back once I made it to the end of the property, but Bonnie was most often long gone (though somehow she usually was waiting for us when we got back up to my house. Sneaky little thing.) I would go inside; they would head back to Gus' place where I had picked them up originally. (Or where they had picked me up might be more accurate.)
Stella has changed all that. She and Bonnie just tolerate each other. Though I have seen them together more and more lately and Dennis even says that they've been together at his place, so maybe they are becoming better friends. I hope so! Gus, since he can't keep up with Stella the wonder dog's energy level spends a lot more time at home. He will let me pet him if I'm in the area, but he doesn't do much, if any, walking with me anymore. It's a rare occasion. I miss my two furry walking companions although they were not the least bit interested in my flowers, they were fun to have around.
Fortunately, Stella has taken their place. Whenever I am out, she comes dashing to see me and is excited about walking--well, for her, running--over the acres. She even comes to meet me when she sees my car turning into the driveway from a trip to the grocery store. Long before I get down the driveway and parked, she is sitting there waiting fully assuming that the reason I'm home is to spend time with her. When I'm inside, and she's out, she comes and paces back and forth in front of the double doors or looks longingly inside wondering what's keeping me. And she knows the route. First, we walk out front to the road (mailbox usually), then we head back, and then--joy of all joys--we head through the trees and out to the meadow and wild area. Out front, she does hit the pond once or twice--I guess labs are addicted to water--and out back, she just thrills in the run. Oh, she always stops to make sure I'm coming, but, trust me, it's a brief stop. She lives to run. You can see the joy. And unlike Bonnie and Gus who prefer the paths I've cut, she disdains them. It's the high grass and brambles for her, thank you. She runs and leaps like Tigger through the stuff, head held high or head down searching for something to chase. She always waits at the back and returns with me, but if I stay awhile, she is more than content to spend her time exploring--at breakneck speeds.
So my walking companions have changed--from Bonnie and Gus a few days every week to Stella two or three times a day. I wish I could have them all with me to be perfectly honest. But for now, the guard has changed. Stella and the chubby old bald guy wander the acres as the latest "pack." Of course, only one of us is fascinated by the flowers. But both of us are experiencing the joy.
But how has the "guard" changed, you ask? The first year or two that I lived here only Bonnie was around, and I really didn't see her much unless I was talking to Dennis. She rarely walked with me. Once Gus arrived and the two of them decided to form a "pack" of two, they began to accompany me on my walks on Iten's Acres. Usually three or four times a week, they would join me at the mailbox and away we would go. On occasion, they would come to meet me at the mailbox, get their affection, and go their own way, but usually, they would "join" me on my treks. They would stay fairly close to me as a wandered out front, but once I got to the back of the property, they usually left me far behind and wandered at their own speed--much faster than mine--through the meadow, wild area, and beyond. Gus would usually reappear for the walk back once I made it to the end of the property, but Bonnie was most often long gone (though somehow she usually was waiting for us when we got back up to my house. Sneaky little thing.) I would go inside; they would head back to Gus' place where I had picked them up originally. (Or where they had picked me up might be more accurate.)
Stella has changed all that. She and Bonnie just tolerate each other. Though I have seen them together more and more lately and Dennis even says that they've been together at his place, so maybe they are becoming better friends. I hope so! Gus, since he can't keep up with Stella the wonder dog's energy level spends a lot more time at home. He will let me pet him if I'm in the area, but he doesn't do much, if any, walking with me anymore. It's a rare occasion. I miss my two furry walking companions although they were not the least bit interested in my flowers, they were fun to have around.
Fortunately, Stella has taken their place. Whenever I am out, she comes dashing to see me and is excited about walking--well, for her, running--over the acres. She even comes to meet me when she sees my car turning into the driveway from a trip to the grocery store. Long before I get down the driveway and parked, she is sitting there waiting fully assuming that the reason I'm home is to spend time with her. When I'm inside, and she's out, she comes and paces back and forth in front of the double doors or looks longingly inside wondering what's keeping me. And she knows the route. First, we walk out front to the road (mailbox usually), then we head back, and then--joy of all joys--we head through the trees and out to the meadow and wild area. Out front, she does hit the pond once or twice--I guess labs are addicted to water--and out back, she just thrills in the run. Oh, she always stops to make sure I'm coming, but, trust me, it's a brief stop. She lives to run. You can see the joy. And unlike Bonnie and Gus who prefer the paths I've cut, she disdains them. It's the high grass and brambles for her, thank you. She runs and leaps like Tigger through the stuff, head held high or head down searching for something to chase. She always waits at the back and returns with me, but if I stay awhile, she is more than content to spend her time exploring--at breakneck speeds.
So my walking companions have changed--from Bonnie and Gus a few days every week to Stella two or three times a day. I wish I could have them all with me to be perfectly honest. But for now, the guard has changed. Stella and the chubby old bald guy wander the acres as the latest "pack." Of course, only one of us is fascinated by the flowers. But both of us are experiencing the joy.
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