And so the days go by.
For those of us who seek quiet and who revel in nature and who are lucky
enough to live in the woods there is something deeply meaningful in the coming
of each new day. I’m looking out the
back window with Lunz’s interpretation of Murmuring Mermaids playing in my
ear. I never tire of that song. There are many others like it and when I
write I prefer having this type of soft music in the background. I speak of the transcendent quality of nature
with an emphasis on the unknown and unknowable.
Here in the woods there is the comfort and warmth of trees and the
everyday experiences of animals visiting.
Even during the warmest days I feel a great peace here. At night I’ll walk the little road leading
away from the cabin listening to night sounds, be they screech owls or elf owls,
or coyotes in the distance or pauraques nearby or crickets in the brush
surrounding me. The word harmony comes to mind.
I can go for weeks never riding in a vehicle or wanting to
travel into a city. In fact, I’ll go
seven or ten days without venturing more than a couple of miles from the
cabin. Here there is a lifetime of
exploration for those with enough imagination to realize that nature is
infinite even in its most localized milieu.
Nothing ever stays the same and yet it never changes. Of course, only humans seek to destroy
nature. Sadly, modern mankind does not
see nature as special other than a resource to be exploited. Knock it down, drill into it; bulldoze it
into oblivion. And then poison it and
think of it as nothing more than a privy into which to dump and foul.
On the weekends people arrive and make noise and talk loudly
and for some reason their ambitions always revolve around manicuring the woods
into something resembling the city from which they came. One woman insists on mowing every square inch
of her property so that it resembles a golf course. Another fellow turns on his obnoxious,
un-muffled tractor and goes around destroying the quiet as if he were at a
major intersection or maybe a construction job site.
Does anyone believe in whispering anymore? Even the “environmentalists” who infrequently
come to visit make too much noise.
Nature seems like an idea to them instead of a reality. More’s the pity. They are hardwired to think city and thus the
manicures and noise. Now that deer season
is approaching they’ll drive through the hamlet to the south pulling their ATVs
and Jeeps and pickup trucks onto which they’ve mounted deer blinds, perhaps never
realizing they are not hunters but simply shooters. On the other hand, a man or woman with a
selfbow is another creature altogether.
After all, if they’re not true hunters then they’ll not be able to acquire
food.
The fall is upon us if not autumn weather. But it has been raining the last few
days. This is the monsoon season, after
all.
If it weren’t for the Internet I would not know who is
president—not that I care given the present administration. And I would not know of the giant storms in Florida
or Puerto Rico or the earthquake in Mexico City or the mass killings in Las
Vegas. You see, the woods do not know
about those things; it has its own contemplations to ponder. Every day we set out food for the deer and
quail. We make sure the watering
stations are okay and that the pond is not leaking. We tend to our garden. I often work in my little shop. I’ve been asked to make a number of selfbows
and I’m pleased to hear that people are becoming more interested in traditional
archery. I’ll also make several sets of carrizo arrows. “It takes practice,” I tell these
newbies. They seem excited.
This week I’ll post photos of a couple of large post
anvils. Then I’ll post a photo of a
dog's-head hammer I recently completed.
And then I’ll post something on a mini-railroad spike axe I forged. Then I think that will be it on steel for a
while. I’d like to talk a bit more on
bows. And it’s amazing how dry it has
been and so few wild edibles appeared these past few months. All except for one desert plant that gave us
berries in abundance.
I love this time of year, summer stays long in south Texas and the seasons changing, days getting shorter gives us time to prepare for winter. Or such as we know winter anyway, lol.
ReplyDeleteWorld events are stranger than ever before - I remember when the expression 'Its a free country' was response when asked if they had permission to do an action. You don't hear that said any more.
Hope you are enjoying the rain where you are at, the pasture here nearby in town sure needed it. Hay expenses were getting out of hand and having to feed every day was time intensive. The bad - huisache springing up in many places, time to pull out the telache and cut them out before they get larger.
We’ve had some rain but not as much as we need. More rain is predicted for this coming week. As you know, huisache doesn’t produce much shade. But its honey is the nectar of the gods. The wood varies from red to dark pink to reddish brown. Like everything else around here it’s covered with thorns. Hope all is well at your ranch.
DeleteHi, great reading your post
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