Lots going on

One last look at the farm, which is showing signs of neglect already after only a few weeks. 

Bees, rodents and reptiles appreciate the sudden quiet and shady growth. 

Here's a photo retrospective, if you like. 

I'm camping out here this week, using Tessa the Teardrop, while trying to knock back the jungle a bit, mostly to make a firebreak for the neighbors. 

 

There are already serious fires nearby, and it's not even June yet, so getting some vegetation dropped before it dries out standing is an appropriate activity.

All the old people we knew have died off and we were the last of our generation along this road. The lot will be sold as is, hopefully to someone who would be willing to raze the hazardous house and start over. A number of homes in the area have gone that route; others have been patiently reconstructed. 

At our new (urban) location, there are some twenty very young fruit trees and three garden beds.

Fencing on the east side of beds to keep out deer and admit watering, shades above and to the west to prevent sunburn to the plants.

 

I'm not sure if I'll hang on to my canning jars; the spirit being willing but the flesh weakening at a pretty good clip. I may just harvest fruit, choose some for eating fresh, and set the rest out by the street as free boxes. It's a kindly neighborhood and has a tradition of doing such.

The new hut is not as pretty as the old hut:

 

However, it has the basics. I can eat and nap there, and also start garden seeds in flats.

Yesterday, from the hut window, I spotted a Cooper's hawk diving into the alley. It reappeared, settling on a power line, holding a stunned garter snake. A scrub jay flew over, parked within a couple of feet of the hawk, and clearly was talking to it, bobbing obsequiously, as much as to say, "you gonna eat all of that?" The hawk lifted its wings and made off to a distant walnut tree to eat in peace.

Sometimes we are the hawk; sometimes we are the scrub jay, and sometimes we are the snake.  Sometimes we are the suddenly snakeless grass.

Oh, yes, lots going on.

Over the mountain hut
winds blow off
the yellow-tinted leaves. 

 

-- Zen Forest tr. Soiku Shigematsu