An inch of rain Saturday night guaranteed this gardener a day of rest on Sunday. As soon as we finished milking, I packed our camera with two water bottles in a running belt and drove up to Arrowhead Lodge, base camp for my 18-mile trek up and down Thunder Ridge. I started slowly, conserving energy for the upward climb.
I realize the Jefferson National Forest is your forest, too, but seeing equipment like this always turns my stomach.
See the blue kiss of death near the bottom of this tulip polar? (Click on the photo to enlarge.)
I know, it sacrifices its life so some of my compatriots can thrive, but please, timbermen, cut only what the arborist authorizes and clean up so the next time I run by I barely notice.
Mountain azaleas led me to gentler thoughts,
accompanied by soothing sounds.
According to a neighbor gardener, his father said it's time to plant corn when the leaves have climbed halfway up the mountain. Ancient wisdom also advises, "Plant corn when oak leaves are the size of squirrels' ears." More than halfway up the mountain I found these, so planting corn three days ago wasn't out of line.
Our farm sits way down at the end of this valley.
And here's the famous "Devil's Marbleyard" -- the white oval, like an egg, viewed between the nearby trees (click on the picture to see it better). We've hiked to this playground of marble stones the size of trucks nearly 50 times with guests.
"Must we return to the original theme?" asks Virginia.
"ABA form," I say. "You're a musician. You know its value. State the theme, move on to something else, then return again. Speech writers use it, too."
"Okay, but what's a log truck?" she says.
"I didn't see any today. In fact, only one vehicle passed me the whole run. Maybe like a truck made of Legos, it's a truck made of logs."
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