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Showing posts with label brook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brook. Show all posts

Sunday, September 25, 2016

A walk down to Beaver Town

With the arrival of fall, it's getting a bit brisk here in the Crooked Wood. Since moving Wholehearted House this spring, I have not set the woodstove back up or unwrapped the chimney that was covered in plastic and tuck tape a year ago. Although cooking on the propane stove is a source of warmth, it isn't very efficient to use it to try to heat my whole house.

I'll be moving to my winter accommodations soon, but I'm loathe to leave the peace and quiet of this place (even though I know my winter housemate and I have lots of good times ahead – many wonderful meals, cribbage games and conversations).

Still, for a couple more weeks, I'm toughing out the chilly nights and treasuring my solitude. In the battle against the chill, I have many tools: hot tea and soup, blankets, my beloved slanket, hoodies, layering, long underwear, hats, car drives with the heater going full blast, visits to the homes of friends and family, warm public refuges like the library and movie theatre, hot flashes and most effective of all, exercise.

Today, I knew I needed to get my blood moving and decided to go for a walk, ostensibly to look for mushrooms, even though the weather has been so dry that I knew the chance of finding any was probably nil (and I was right about that).

Even though I've lived here all summer, I haven't explored my land very thoroughly. For the most part, I stick to the area bounded by my house, garden, shed, clothesline and compost heap.

Here is a photo of the edge of the clearing made on my land. Most of my land looks like this: tall trees, with lots of standing and fallen dead wood.

Today, I decided to set out to explore the less traveled parts of my land. It's only three acres (which is about the size of three professional soccer fields), so I figured it wouldn't take very long. Salinger decided he would come with me.
Salinger, showing off his tree-climbing skills on our walk today.
The Crooked Wood is roughly rectangular. It has about 150 feet that front the road and then goes back about three times that distance with (more or less) straight sides. The line at the back of my property is a jagged line, because that boundary is created by a little stream called the Kissing Brook (also known as the Line Brook to the less lyrical.)
The Kissing Brook at the end of a long, dry summer.

I hadn't been right up to the edge of the brook before today because in usual conditions, there is a large area of swampy wetland surrounding the brook itself: the sort of boot-swallowing expanse of stinky mud that is very difficult to navigate. In fact, before today, I thought the swamp was the brook. But with the very dry weather we've had this summer, the swamp is much easier to maneuver, so I was able to explore the whole area and discover that the brook has a distinct shape, separate from the swamp around it.

Obviously, the land around the brook didn't used to be swampy; the trees that grew on its banks haven't survived the wetter conditions and are mostly standing dead.

I had heard from my neighbours that there are beavers living in the Kissing Brook, and indeed, there were signs of them everywhere. Salinger was unusually vocal around the beaver dam – as if he was trying to make sure I was aware of the proximity of some very large rodents. I wonder if he has had nocturnal run-ins with them?

Busy beavers!

Interrupted half-way through the task?
What did you use to cut that down with – a beaver?

Home sweet beaver home
The back of the main dam is on the right in this photo. There is a very orderly pile of sticks on the left. Is it the beaver equivalent of a lumber yard?

The main dam can be seen from my land, but it is actually located slightly past my property line on land belonging to of one of my neighbours.
Uprooted trees decorate the banks of the brook


Fallen trees make handy shortcuts for Salinger

I had to laugh at myself – I got disoriented on three separate occasions during my walk. Because of the steep slope that drops down to the swamp, my home and those of my neighbours are not visible from the brook. With only the winding water as a reference point, I was trying to cross my land from side to side but twice I got turned around and ended up back at the same property line from which I had started! Finally, I walked back up into the inhabited portion of my land and crossed to the other property line, then walked down it and traveled from that side over to the other.

The third time I got disoriented was when I saw this marker – I thought it was the property line, but it's not. I can't think what it marks, it seems completely random...

The vegetation by the brook is very different than in the wooded portion of my land. Under the tall trees there are mosses, ferns and lichens as well as many of the sweet, little, woodland flowers that I love. Since the trees by the brook are dead or dying, there is a lot more sunshine down there and the plants are mostly grasses, reeds and burrs. Here is a photo of some asters (which always remind me of my Nana <3) – as well as some very thirsty grass.

I learned many things on my walk today. My land goes back further than I thought and there is a variety to it that I hadn't examined before. And while I didn't meet any of my beaver neighbours, I did get a sense of their habitat – and their industry. Apart from the occasional mushroom hunt, I plan to leave them alone to beaver away at their lives in peace.

After today, I feel motivated to become more familiar with this piece of land. I want to be able to recognize every inch and have landmarks that will tell me where I am at all times. I want to see it change through the seasons and the years ahead. I predict that there will be many more walks through The Crooked Wood.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Got land?

"It's the only thing they aren't making any more of," as my mom has been known to say.

(Will Rogers said that too, as I learned this week while reading Thomas King's amazing book, The Inconvenient Indian.)

I have had a bit of a rough spring in terms of living arrangements. I felt very displaced in March and April, although I've been feeling much better since Salinger and I were able to return to our Wholehearted House on May 1.

Putting down roots

In the midst of my spring of being under-housed, something in my heart snapped into place – or something in my brain just snapped – or maybe a little of both.

I realized that I've been perching, for quite a while now, unable to settle. Everything has felt transitional; I haven't been taking responsibility for my living situations and that has left me open to a certain volatility. Changes happening around me have had a bigger impact on me than I would have liked.

Last fall I was contemplating my great escape. I wanted to get away from the grief, depression and heartache that had settled on me. I was all for making a fresh start – going somewhere unknown to me and where I was unknown. (If you want to know more about what a familiar feeling this is for me, check out my song Run Away, written back in 2007.) 

Over the winter, I explored various options – some in Québec, some elsewhere in Nova Scotia. I even did a little research about what it would take to move to Argentina.

Introducing... The Land

For all of my dreams of new adventures, in my heart of hearts I know that what I really want is to put down roots. The thought of being responsible for – and in charge of – my own bailliwick called to me, loud and clear. After so many moves and so much uncertainty, I long to stay put for a while. I crave as much certainty as anyone can expect in this world. Knowing that I am always at the whim of the VERSE (Very Enormous Random Swirl of Events), I long to be only at its whim and my own. No other.

And then, a piece of land went up for sale in my neighbourhood (west of the LaHave River). It is not right on the water (I could never afford that!), but it's only an 8-minute drive to Crescent Beach. The sellers were motivated. I had some help coming up with the lump sum (Thank-you-very-much-to-you-know-who-you-are!).

I could see my way clear to making the investment.

So, I bought it. All it took was a realtor, a lawyer, some paperwork, some money and some time. The sale went through on May 13, 2015. I am a landowner. Or, as I prefer to think of it, the officially-recognized steward of 3 acres of Nova Scotia's south shore.

Alexandra Hickey, Esquire.

It's an awesome feeling and a strange feeling at the same time. The land is the definition of stunning beauty for me – home to a number of old, crooked pine trees like this one in the photo below.

I have named the three pines that are visible from the road Orwen, Orduu and Orgoch
in honour of the three Fates in Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain.
This photo is of Orwen. She's the kindly one with the wacky hair.

And at the back of the parcel there is a sluggish brook with wetlands which hopefully augurs wild mushroom harvests in the fall...



What now?

Understandably, I feel rather overwhelmed about the process of getting myself and my Wholehearted House situated on this piece of land – especially without disturbing those pines – or anything else on the land – more than is absolutely necessary. There is a lot to do to solve the challenges of access (to situate my house, car and any equipment temporarily needed to prepare the site), water, power, waste treatment, Internet access. In each case there are decisions to make about the type of solution: on or off-grid, all of the hows and whys, and of course, how much money will each part of the project take, and how quickly can I earn that money and earmark it for its purpose?

Many ideas are dancing around in my head: conventional and way-out-there, short-term and long-range.

It will take me a while to figure out my master plan. I'm going to do my best to take it one step at a time.

Fortunately, I have time on my side. There is no pressure.

Since they are not making any more land (apart from occasional harbour infill projects (which don't count, in my opinion) – we're lucky that the land we've got is not going anywhere anytime soon.

VERSE willing.