Sunday Strolls

I love to take a stroll on a Sunday. If I lived in the city I'd probably head for a park, or an old neighborhood, but since I live out in the wild woods ... that's where I take my walks. And on Sundays in the fall I can go out to White Oak Swamp.  We rent that bit of forest to a hunter and during the season we stay out of the woods except for Sundays. In exchange for the use of our land we get venison, amazing summer sausage and of course, the rent - but rest assured, both parties think they have a really good bargain.

This pretty Sunday dawned with sparkling sunshine - bright enough to get all my laundry on the line in time to dry - even if the breeze has a hint of ice in it today. Sometimes we walk over to White Oak Swamp but with the little pup we don't. She'll get enough miles in once we get there, so we drive over and park at the edge and head south. That blur behind BD's legs is One Happy Callie. 

The little puzzled face thing is One Whiny Puppy.  "Pick Me UP" she's begging - but goodness - she must weigh over 20 lbs now. "No, Juno. You have to walk"

There really isn't anything more tempting than a path through the forest. Here along the east edge the cover is sparse and lots of light shines in. Certainly enough for a little puppy to find her way. 

This magical place is full of cypress trees (I know I've told you all this dozens of times already - but just in case you forgot...)  They're so pretty right now - still mostly green but with the bronzing beginning close to the limbs and branches. They're getting tall too - and knees are popping up in all sorts of places. 

A dog can disappear in a forest like this. 

I'm not sure if you can see this - it didn't photograph the way it looked in real life - but the  moment I saw this I thought "Green Lace!" It's really a sapling ... probably an oak ... that has been eaten away till there is just a lacy remnant to mark it's existence. 

Here is another interesting bit of flora - a holly tree sprouting out of an old moss covered stump. The woods are always so full of magical things. Sometimes I can capture them - sometimes I can only allude to them with my digital images.

Of course - no walk is much fun without lots of stopping and puppy fluffing. 

Aren't I cute, Mama?

No matter how far we walk in WOS there is always something  beautiful to see - breathtaking to experience - so spiritual I can almost be the forest not just be in the forest. How's this for a vaulted ceiling?

Or this for an October blossom?

Or this?

And this? What do you think? A ladder up to heaven? 

 

And what sylvan sprite lives here? A gnome? Elves? Fairies? 

Our walk took us down the east rim, along the south end, up the west woods, with a little weaving in and out among the crossing paths that take you deep into the woods. These shots were taken on the Africa Path. BD has named all of the paths. 

 Sometimes when I'm in this forest I can open up and feel it pour its strength into my body. I think of this particular bit of the farm as The Healing Woods. I remember coming here once so long ago - before there were these wide, easy to stroll paths. I was so sad about something I couldn't change but once I got deep into the woods, whatever was hurting me just floated away - sucked out of me by the spirit of the woods. I still feel that way even when I have nothing to be sad about. However I feel - a walk in White Oak Swamp will make me feel better.  I think it makes Juno feel better too.
 

 If you make enough right turns, though, you'll eventually get back to the car - or at least - you'll get back up to the tar road. Little dogs will stop and look around

Get one more tussle 

Share a bone or two 

And then it's time to head for home - with a stop for a long cool drink of water at Jacob's Gut. Would you believe that's a 12 week old puppy? Me neither. Now ... What's for lunch?

Broken Bones

Jack and Callie on Friday - before her leap from the truck.

 On Sundays we like to take long walks. On beautiful Sundays, like yesterday, we like to take very long walks. So around 2 o'clock, yesterday, we loaded the dogs into the back of the truck and drove over to White Oak Swamp. That's about 2 miles away - down our dirt lane and over about a mile and a half of tar surface. The truck is ancient. It does not go very fast. In a mile it can  hardly get up to 30 mph. Not very fast but fast enough that when a wild spoiled impulsive 7 month old puppy sees her neighbor dog running down the field and decides she wants to PLAY - and leaps out of the truck - broken bones will follow.

I'd been watching her out the back window. We weren't going fast. I turned my head for just a moment, then heard a thump and looked back to see white puppiness on the slope of the field as it dips down from the road. I hollered and BD slammed on the brakes. "She can't get up!" I could see her try to get up and fall back down and then try again. We were at her side in a flash. BD scooped her up and she yelped. He set her gently on the front seat of the truck. Instantly the bossy school marm in my left brain began issuing instructions but before things could deteriorate into an adrenalin squabble my wiser self clamped my mouth shut tight. BD was already wrestling with his own accusatory and self accusatory brains and we drove back to the house in silence.

I would NOT be scared and I would not imagine The Worst. In the living room we set Callie down and examined her for breaks but - neither of us being anatomists - couldn't really tell and didn't want to hurt her more by moving her about. I sat on the floor with her head in my lap while BD called Dr. Lauriel, who, thank God, was home and in her very sober quiet kind and gentle way said "I'll meet you in 45 minutes".

I got up to change my shirt and my little baby, wanting her mother, tried to follow me. She could hop on 3 legs but fell down when she tried to climb the steps. Did I mention that my heart, lodged somewhere just below my uvula, constricted yet again? I sat back with my baby and stroked her gently till she was calm again. She never really did yelp or complain so we could battle those black demons of fear.

Jack wondered why we didn't take him with us in the car, but he's very forgiving about that sort of thing. Callie was silent on the back seat, head down, slightly sleepy. Dr. L was already at the surgery when we got to town and right away identified a broken femur.

This is not a photo of Callie's broken femur - her's is the right leg. She tested her for other things - internal bleeding, and such - but there didn't seem to be anything else wrong. Callie lay as sweet and gentle as could be. She even flapped a tail as BD lifted her, only to gently lay her down on that broken leg for the x-ray. She never whimpered and she never complained. I don't know if that's because she was in shock or there is nerve damage so she couldn't feel it - but she just acquiesced to whatever her humans did to her. Dr. L did say that if she could hop on 3 legs it was a good sign that she was going to be alright.

The treatment will be surgery, this morning, first thing. They will put a pin - or pins - inside her bone to hold it straight while it heals and then take it/them out in 4 to 6 weeks. We left her at the vets for the night to be sure she would be confined and quiet. Dr. L gave her some shots to keep her relaxed and some antibiotics to prep her for surgery.

It was a sober and somewhat sad afternoon without our little wild puppy. But we're deeply grateful that there are good doctors near by and that Callie is young, can heal fast, and is in great health at the moment. Whatever comes next we will just take it a step at a time. But what a day!

The Last Sunday Stroll of 2012 -WARNING: Photo Laden

We take a stroll around the place almost every Sunday. On weekdays I get my exercise at the gym and on Saturdays I figure cleaning TheCastle is enough of a workout. But Sundays are my days to reconnect with home. 

Yesterday was the most beautiful Sunday I've seen in a whole month of 'em. I almost always take the camera because ... you never know ... maybe something special will happen. But the day was so gorgeous I longed to capture it and took over 100 photographs! That's enough to chronicle the walk and I thought perhaps you'd like to join me on my Last Sunday Stroll of the year.

We started out going down the rim path that skirts the north end of the property and I wasn't yet thinking about taking pictures - Our vistas were just the usual thrillingly gorgeous view of terrain. That path puts us out, though, on the old farm road that RE built when he took over farming here - way back before we moved down. Here we are walking towards Robert's Landing to see just how far out the tide has been blown - we're not actually on our own place at this point - but I wanted to be sure I was in the picture too. LOL

This used to be Sock's favorite place to have a drink and take a dip in summertime. It's really just a drainage ditch and today it was way too cold and windy to swim. Only Callie was thirsty. But just look at that sky! 

We're coming up on Farmer's Hall Creek. We could hear the geese muttering to each other and if you had telescopic eyes you could see them swimming in that patch of blue in the middle of the picture. I love the soft brown and grey of a winter landscape, especially on a day as full of blue sky as this.

And there they go - wave after wave of them flying off into the wintry air.

The wind was fierce out of the north - then later the north west. BD took his wind gauge and measured a steady 8 knots per hour with gusts up to 12! I had on So Many Clothes - turtle neck, vest, fleece jacket and second fleece jacket, plus hat and gloves. (Yes. I did knit that hat) I was never cold and never hot, the whole afternoon!

When the wind blows hard out of the N or NW we get what is called a blow-out low tide.  You can see the wide mud flats of Farmer's Hall in these pictures.

I caught Callie in a pensive mood - I wonder what she's thinking of right now. (food, probably)

   

Or maybe she was thinking about how nice she smelled now that she'd rolled in something nasty. Note the streak on shoulder and belly. This is the true Labrador - even more than this retriever pose. And yes. She did go out in that icy water and bring back the stick.

This is my favorite picture of the whole walk.

And this is the one I'd like to crop and then try painting - I took half a dozen pictures of this glistening white sycamore tree but could never capture the excitement it threw off. But I love the curves and arches of this picture.

Way across the field was a perfectly beautiful walnut tree looking like its tickling the sky














We wanted to end up in what we now call The Deer Park - the plot of forest across the tar road from us - where BD planted cypress trees so long ago. So at the mile point we turned right and headed towards John Allen's old place.










If I owned this I'd call it Seven Cypress because there is a row of them along a little low spot to the east of the house. We didn't go all the way to the old house, though, but turned off on the lane that just skirts the western boundary of our place. It puts us out right opposite The Deer Park.

This little spot of heaven has the most amazing effect on me. I first noticed it 20 years ago, long before there were paths and copses or even cypress trees. To get into this thick jungle you had to brave more greenbriar and holly than my delicate skin liked but once I'd get in the middle of it the most amazing calm would come over me. It has to be some sort of ancient sacred spot to still be able to comfort this 21st century, post-Mayan Apocalypse girl just by existing and letting her stand upon it.

This speckled bird dog is Buster - boon companion to LD. He can't ever figure out why his master wants to leave this place but he sure is glad he comes home often.

This is a tree that has been marked by three generations of the same men. When the whole flats was divided back in the 1920's BD's grandfather marked the lines on this hickory tree. Seven decades later BD marked it himself before we had the timber cut. In 2007 LD painted the lines once more as a birthday gift to his dad.

Last week I told LD he couldn't take Callie on a walk longer than 5 miles. I thought she was too young to be worked that hard. He left her at home on his marathon trek but we'd already gone 5 miles when we turned around to go home and Callie doesn't look like she's too tired to me. I guess she's a big girl now. And how I love those teeth of Jack's.

This is the most interesting pine tree - note how that branch on the right stretches out - and the dead portion of it arches all the way to the ground. We aren't on our own property here - but those pine trees in the background are ours.

This is just a lovely view through to the north east.

Back on our own place once again we're beginning to think about hot tea - and maybe some lunch.  The sun warmed our backs and it was casting long enough shadows to tell us the afternoon would soon draw to a close.

But what's this I see, up there on the left - across the last bit of the lane? What's in the field - at the very edge of my view?

Oh la! A dead tree down across the lane. Looks like we aren't going anywhere any time soon. LOL! And I know what BD will be doing on New Year's Eve day. This wood will warm him twice 'cause I have to go back to work on the 2nd.

And look! There's another dead tree just waiting to come toppling down in the Next Big Wind.

But not today, thank goodness. We're ready to take it easy with the Sunday paper and a hot cuppa. I make a last exploratory peek beneath the cedars to see if the daffodils have begun to poke their heads up.  They have. It's as if they're wanting to assure me that though the cold winter days are upon us - spring is not far away.

I love my house. I love it any time I'm in it. I love it when it's cluttered. I love it when it's ship-shape. I love it when I'm puttering around outside and I love it when I welcome guests inside. It is always beautiful to me - but I believe it is at its most beautiful when I'm walking up to its front door.

The last thing this beautiful day gave us was the low setting sun, golden in the sky and lighting up the porch. This is what I stared at as I sipped hot peppermint tea, with my legs stretched before me and the dogs on the rug. A fitting goodbye from Old Sol, to the last Sunday Stroll of 2012. Thanks for coming along.