Delicate and Discernable

SMELL the ROSES...

...while you can!

Chamomile

Chamomile prior to first picking.

chamomile - dainty daisy-like blooms

a solitary blossom

Chamomile after the first picking.  Notice that most of the flowers ae gone.

Chamomile flowers spread out on a plate for bugs to crawl out.

Chamomile blossoms spread out on a screen for final drying.

I just finished my third picking of chamomile flowers.  The harvest was meager compared to my two earlier pickings in late May and early June, but I wanted to make sure to put up as much of this delightful herb as possible. I also tied up two fairly nice-sized bunches of chamomile stems that I hung in the solarium.  The scent, many find it akin to apples, sweetens the surroundings very effectively, even with the windows open and vent fan running.  The flowers left on the plants outside will remain to go to seed for next year’s crop.

My grandmother gave me a jar of dried chamomile flowers when I was in junior high school. She had that jar in her pantry for years.   I used the flowers to make a rinse for my hair.  The fragrance was lovely.  Chamomile will always foster memories of my grandmother.   

In previous years, chamomile was just another wonderful and aromatic plant in my garden. I never harvested the flowers.  I had no intention of harvesting chamomile this year since I had no chamomile last year and did not plant any seeds this year.  But, as spring arrived, so did the chamomile plants.  Lots of them. They just sprung up in an area of the garden where they had been growing two years ago. 

So, this year, I decided to make up my own jar of dried chamomile.

Since the plants and flowers flourished, I thought I would take the time to harvest, one blossom by one blossom, and dry the flowers for tea. 

This third picking should just about top my storage jar off.  I will enjoy looking at the filled jar of little daisy-like flowers before actually using them for tea.  After all, the picking is very time-consuming and I want to admire the results before the contents are used up.

Like most garden harvesting, the task is usually tedious and consumes a lot of time.  But, the reward of fresh and home grown anything makes all that effort so worthwhile.

I will use my little jar of chamomile wisely and I will enjoy every little bit!

Hurray for Hay

I was inside the house when I heard an unfamiliar mechanical noise…almost like a train was approaching which I do hear from time to time, but somewhat different.  I went outside to discover that Glenn was cutting the grass in one of the pastures (10 acres) to put up for hay.

You read that right…put up hay.

Yes, I remember a few years back when I mentioned that we would no longer be making hay. We had changed our farm management a bit and decided to buy hay if we needed to supplement our ‘grass-fed on pasture’ program.  Glenn went as far as selling all our hay-making equipment.  It was good equipment which we sold for an almost fair price. We always seem to buy high and sell low.  But, we no longer needed it.  So, he said. So, he assured me.

Recently, Glenn decided to fine-tune his management program and with that decision came the announcement to put a bit of haying back into the mix. He discovered that the pastures needed mowing every few years to help eliminate the undesirable plants that the cows nor the sheep were eating.  Left unchecked, unmowed or uneaten, these nuisance plants would keep taking over a bigger chunk of the desirable pasture. That is not in THE PLAN.

Well, you can probably see where I am going.  Yep…Glenn had to buy hay equipment so that he could hay again.  Naturally, we bought used and a bit on the high side priced equipment.  And, today, Glenn started to cut the grass down which is the first step in haying process.  He never told me his plan, but I sure did hear it.

I am a bit confused, though, as to the piece of equipment he was using.  We use to cut our grass with a haybine.  The equipment Glenn was pulling around the field was no haybine.  And, the sound it made was not the sound of a haybine which thuds like constant pounding.  Today’s sound was like train wheels rolling with a bit of high-pitched whirl.  I will ask Glenn when he gets back up to the house.

The next step…letting the grass dry.  The forecast calls for at least four days of sunshine, so I hope all holds true.

This is where haying gets tricky.  The grass needs to dry completely without a bit of precipitation falling on it. Well, that is the best case scenario.  It is also the part that causes the greatest anxiety because many times the forecast is wrong and the rain comes. Rain denigrates the quality of the hay.

Now, we will just wait and see.  Once the grass is dried, it will be raked into rows and baled.  I did not think we even had a baler yet, but a baler is crucial to putting up hay.

I guess I will ask Glenn about the baler, too.

The upside is that I love the smell that permeates from the hay-making process – fresh, earthy and kind of sweet.  I also like how the barn swallows swoop around the tractor, as the grass is being raked and baled, catching insects. 

I am glad we are back in the haymaking business, if only in a limited way. 

raking dried grass into rows

picking up grass and rolling into huge round bales

morning after baling - beautiful!

Update:  There has been no rain.  The grass dried. Glenn raked the rows into larger rows on Friday.  I was right…we have no baler at this moment.  A neighbor, who owed Glenn some time or money for a logging job he did a month or so ago, came over to bale the hay to reimburse his obligation to us.  Now, Glenn is out in the hot sun moving the huge round bales of hay, 32 in total, out of the field and into the pole barn for storage.  With a roof overhead, these bales can last at least two years and still be nutritious for our cattle.

As for his mower, instead of a haybine, Glenn had purchased a used rotary disc mower.  He decided that was a fine purchase and he likes this style of mower over his old haybine.  Yippee! Chalk one up for doing something right.

Now, Glenn is looking for a used baler to put back into his equipment inventory and to have the next time he needs to bale which will be at the end of summer since he just planted 40 acres of millet (a future blog – check back again).

Hurray for HAY!

Cherry Season

My expectations of the 2016 cherry season were grim.  With the extremely warm temperatures in March causing many plants to break dormancy early including my cherry trees which flowered profusely, beautifully and fragrantly; followed by many days of freezing overnight temperatures and ending with weeks of continuous rain, I gave up all hope of any kind of cherry harvest.

I was wrong.

sweet cherries

look closely for the ant

Even though the sweet cherry blossoms were in full glory when the freezing temperatures returned, we had a very decent crop compared to the non-existent, as in not one sweet cherry, crop of 2015. So, this year’s cherries tasted all the sweeter.  We beat the birds to the harvest, too.  Actually, what damage/loss we had to the fruit was the result of black ants.  The ants were small in size and numbers, so they did not prove to be much competition in absconding with the ripe berries. 

Besides the actually harvested cherries, the best are those eaten on the run while doing chores in the orchard area. If I needed a treat, I just grabbed a handful of juicy red fruit and popped it into my mouth. Yummy!

Our sour cherries were harvested about one week later. 

Again, early on, I thought that the sour cherries would not produce much useable fruit.  The cherries were no larger than the size of the pits within as they started to turn red.  But in a few short days, the fruit plumped, deepened in color and was ready to pick.

The small tree was full of cherries.  Glenn was so happy.  This tree is growing in our yard for the sole purpose of providing fruit for Glenn’s favorite pie…cherry.  The work to harvest and prepare for freezing is tedious.  Definitely, a labor of love.

Glenn picked most of the cherries while I ran the filled bowls into the house for washing. Only the biggest and reddest cherries were picked.  It was obvious that a second picking would be necessary in another few days as a good portion of the cherries were still pinkish.

Once all the red cherries were picked, the work became all mine.  I washed, pitted, mixed with sugar, ladled into freezer container, labeled and placed the containers safely in the freezer.  When I am ready to treat Glenn to a homemade cherry pie, I will just go and get a container of our homegrown and oh, so delicious cherries out of the freezer to place into my homemade pie crust.  No store bought here. 

notice the bird detractors?

sour cherries

The worst of the process is the pitting.  It took me four hours to pit about 7 quarts of cherries.  I ended up very sticky – hands, arms, legs, head. Cherries are quite juicy. As I stood up from hours of sitting in one position, I lost my balance because my legs were stiff. I was carrying a bowl, empty of cherries but about a quarter-filled with cherry juice.  The sticky liquid went flying… all over me! Besides numb limbs, my back feels like it will never quite be the same – oh, the pain.  What a person, me, does for love – ugh!  Fortunately, once I stretch and get out all the kinks, I feel fine again.

Later in the day, I walk past that sour cherry tree and it looks like we never harvested one cherry.  Oh no…I see another grueling day in my near future. 

The up side is that once all the cherries are harvested, that is it for the season.  No new cherries are produced.  Unlike raspberries or strawberries which can keep producing new fruit ad nauseum for weeks. Therefore, an end is forthcoming with cherries, and I can transfer my attention to other back-breaking produce harvesting.

And, then it starts all over again the next year. 

The joy of growing and eating your own foodstuffs…actually, the hard work is well worth the amazing taste and personal satisfaction.

A Cardinal Event

I have always watched birds for years.  I keep my eyes peeled when on walks. I often gaze outside when passing any window in the house as I go about my chores.  I sit quietly a few minutes when down at the pond feeding the fish.  These are my usual, yet a bit informal, ways I watch birds. My bird watching is secondary to the primary activity.

Recently, I have decided to be a bit more deliberate in watching for my feathered friends. I actually go out and sit waiting for the magic to happen.  My favorite perch is from my comfy and well-worn ottoman placed in the doorway of my garden shed.  I am somewhat hidden from view from the birds, yet I have a bird’s eye view of the yard on the west side of the house.  This side is home to my apple trees, grapevines, raspberry bushes, hemlock tree, horse chestnut tree, and a multitude of perennial plantings surrounding the central lawn.   The birds have great cover here as well as unlimited places to land and rest or sing or for a few, watch me.

My goal is to get a photo of a Baltimore Oriole. So far, I have seen several orioles, have taken a photo of an Orchard Oriole, but the photo of the brilliant orange Baltimore Oriole has eluded me.  I will keep trying.

Nevertheless, I was well rewarded with a different bird today.

 I no sooner sat down that I was presented with an amazing show. A female cardinal landed within feet of me.  A fairly large puddle had formed from our frequent rains in a low spot in the gravel lane. That female hopped around a bit before…

taking the plunge. She dunked her head smack down into the puddle and took a bath. 

I have seen smaller birds wade in puddles before, but this was my first time that I was lucky enough to watch a colorful cardinal refresh herself.  It was magic, indeed.

I continued to watch and noticed a robin, or two, continually fly in and out of the chestnut tree.  The bird would go in with something hanging from its beak. Shortly, the bird would fly out of the tree with an empty beak.  I realized that those robins must have a nest in that tree. On closer examination, I proved myself right.  A fine nest was firmly set in forking branches near the top of the tree. Suddenly, the adult robin flew onto the nest. Just as fast, the bird was gone.

The last few years the robins had built a nest under the roof of our pergola. 

The chestnut tree is a much better option for the birds and for us. 

As for me, I had a great bird watching session.  I know there will be more to come. 

What will I see next?

The Birds Continue To Amaze

Well, it finally happened!

I was sitting on the deck against the water-facing side of the pond house searching the shoreline for a spotted sandpiper.  The sandpipers have been the most regular bird present at the pond in line behind the red- winged blackbirds and tree swallows. I enjoy watching the sandpipers scamper along the water’s edge and pecking for food.

All of a sudden, without a sound, a Great Blue Heron flew into view from the side of the pond house.  The heron was flying low over the water and landed in the grass at the far side of the pond. 

I was amazed.  So were the dogs.  At first sight, they started to chase as they do with all birds, but when the heron landed, the dogs just stopped in what seemed to be a bit of shock.  The birds they chase never land and the birds are never quite this large.  I think they were confused as to what to do.  Buddy and Snowball just sat and watched as I did.

The heron stood quietly towering over the grass.  Camera in hand, I got a few shots off.  I wanted to zoom in closer, but since the heron is so tall, I had to turn the camera to better frame the entire form.  That turning caused the heron to exit. Ugh!

Once in flight, the heron made its way past me into the far side of a nearby walnut tree.  The heron barked all the way.  This is the only the second time I actually heard a heron bark indicating that the heron was startled. The vocals were a bonus to the already fabulous spectacle.

I could see the heron through the somewhat sparse, early leaves of the walnut, but not good enough to witness any kind of observations.  I looked away for a moment and the heron was gone.

I had been waiting for years for a heron to land at the pond while I was there.  A few herons have come close by flying low, but as soon as the dogs were eyed, the herons just continued flying on and out of sight.

Today, an optimism turned to reality. 

But, that was not the end of my excitement.  As I made my return walk home, I saw a brown thrasher sitting on the fence line adjacent to the area I call ‘the bird sanctuary’. This area is very overgrown with trees, shrubs, grasses and weeds.  Glenn wants to clear the sanctuary, mainly due to the undesirability of autumn olive growing there, bringing this small island of diverse growth back to and adding it to the surrounding pasture. Autumn olive shrubs are not desirable growing in a pasture because they take up valuable space where grass should be growing, yet they provide seasonal bird cover and berries for food in the fall.  After the birds eat the berries, they drop the seeds into the pastures where the nuisance shrub takes hold. Glenn has to manually eradicate the shrub from the pastures because the livestock will not eat it.   I insist that the sanctuary remains for the benefit of the birds’ habitat and for the benefit of my bird-watching.  I have seen many a rare-to-me bird here. So far, I am winning this conflict.

 

About two weeks prior, I had a quick glimpse of a brown thrasher in the sanctuary. This brief sighting caused me to formulate my self-imposed goals for this summer which are to photograph a brown thrasher and a wood thrush. Seeing both birds are a very rare, sighted only about twice each and each time the birds were partially hidden by foliage, occurrence to me.  Therefore, seeing the brown thrasher in the open was thrilling. Regrettably, Snowball was ten steps ahead of me.  Yep, that thrasher flew off before I was to get photographic documentation.  Fortunately, for me, the thrasher flew into a nearby tree and was perched on a branch in full view.

I got my pictures. One rare bird photographed, one to go.  And, it is only mid-May.  I have plenty of time to view the wood thrush this summer, I think.  I hope.

Another Bird Bonus

Yesterday was another bird bonus day.

My walk down to the pond flushed up a mallard couple from the shore line.  The male and female are so different in coloration.  Both are so beautiful in their own way. Then, I saw several swallows.  Not the regular tree swallow pond dwellers, but the more colorful barn swallows. I also noticed a swallow that seemed to be combination of the tree and barn. Hmm...? I had to get out my BIG bird book.  The bird could be either an immature barn swallow or an Eurasian subspecies.  You decide.

 

Can you help me identify?

On return home, I noticed a somewhat unrecognizable bird in the top of the hemlock tree.  This is a favorite spot of my mockingbirds.  Was this a bird a mockingbird?  No, but I could not verify the species.  With the angle of the sun, I was at a disadvantage.  Once I viewed my photos on the computer, I was so surprised.  Even though the photos were out of focus, I could identify this bird as an Orchard Oriole.  The muted orange that I could not perceive came through on the photos. This bird is definitely a rare sighting for me.  Unfortunately, the pics were disappointing. But, better a bad picture than no picture.

About one hour later, I decided to go back out into the yard. I just had a feeling that my unique find must still be around.  I stepped to the side of the house to catch two brilliant orange Baltimore Orioles being frisky in my small sour cherry tree.  More orioles.  WOW!  They were well hidden by the branches, but the brilliant orange was quite noticeable.  Within seconds, they flew off to the nearby woods.  Yet, another rare sighting for me.

How lucky can I get?

Orchard Oriole (female)

Well…pretty lucky.  I decided I needed to make myself a bit less obvious, so I went to my garden shed, pulled over my upholstered stool to the door way, sat and waited.  I did not have to wait long.  Mere seconds.  I saw a bird fly into one of my apple trees.  I zoomed in and focused.  Hurray…the Orchard Oriole had returned and I was ready.  Fantastic!

At the same time, a mockingbird took rest in the top of that hemlock and began to sing. He serenaded me about 20 minutes, no exaggeration, straight with no break in his repertoire of songs.  Songs imitated from many birds.  That was one happy mockingbird. That was one happy me.

A perfect ending to a wonderful day!