Trumpet vine from July 30th. A perfect blue sky day.
Our feature photo this season is of the trumpet vine, blooming at its peak at the end of July. This tough old vine has weathered the summer well and is still producing enough blooms to attract hummingbirds and bees. It has been entertaining to observe them all summer, along with other residents passing through, including the visiting black-tailed buck below, who discovered the bird feeder was easy feed. He seems to have moved on. The photo was taken through the window, and is not very clear, but shows him caught in the act of eating fallen seed.
Black-tailed deer buck from July 29th, helping himself to seed at the bird feeder.
Summer moved along far more quickly than I have ever known it to do in my life. In early June, Rick drove me to the ER for what I thought might be severe flu or possibly covid, and found out to my surprise I was having a heart attack, an STEMI, sometimes called a “widowmaker”. I remember watching Rick’s face as we were given the news in the ER, his eyes widening like the Sifaka in a video I once saw where a Sifaka youngster, in an effort to free himself, bites the tail of the adult, who has inadvertently pinned the youngster down. The adult did not move at first, but the eyes got very, very wide. Unfortunately, I cannot find the footage, and don’t remember which nature program aired the original segment. I was quickly whisked away by ambulance to a bigger hospital with a catheter lab. The catheter lab team did their job well, saved my life and implanted a stent in my right coronary artery. I spent a few days in the hospital, and came home to recover and get back on my feet. Having survived cancer 12 years ago, I remember thinking that was a life changing experience. I would say that for me, this recent event has exceeded that experience. We all come stamped with an expiration date, not readable by the normal person. Fortunately, mine has not come up, yet, and I continue to wake up on the correct side of the ground. A good friend back east set up a GoFundMe page to help defray medical bills not covered by commercial insurance.
A shy daisy in May.
Many things got away from me this season, though I will attempt to present the highlights as they have flown by, mainly in pictures. I have not felt very motivated to write, though I have made daily observations for myself. I feel a need to rest and readjust, much like a field left fallow in an off year between crops. The productivity will be better later on.
May is the most colorful month here, and this year was no exception. A long, cool and wet winter and prolonged cool and wet spring that continued into early June contributed to a slightly late but profuse showing of blooms, and rainbows. Most of my photos for this post were taken in May.
May 19th rainbow coming down into the hills to the southeast.
Willow mallow in back lot
Thyme sported many blooms.
Snowball bush in May.
Irises in May.
German bearded iris
Reblooming iris
Dutch iris
Yellow flag iris
Reblooming iris
Hawthorn blooms in late May.
June passed by in a blur for reasons stated earlier. I was pleased to find a pair of leopard slugs (Limax maximus) rendezvousing on the door jamb of the garage. Although they are not native, they are predatory slugs, and can move considerably faster than the other non native slugs that patrol the farm looking for tasty produce to eat. Being from New England where we only had “little grey” slugs, I still find all these giant Pacific Northwest slugs fascinating.
A pair of leopard slugs back in June.
August 28th: Another slug I think is one of the European ones. Last seen crawling along the outer well house wall.
Same slug making his way into the morning sunlight. They will all take shelter soon as the day progresses.
July was another month that passed quickly. I went back to playing music out, sufficiently satisfied with my progress.
Ima Blueberry, at the Albany Farmers Market on Saturday, July 9th
Queen Anne’s Lace provided beautiful umbrels to enjoy, and are still blooming.
Queen Anne’s Lace – a tough survivor, weedy and incredibly beautiful.
One of the few rose blooms this year.
August, the hot and very dry month, was not quite as hot as expected, although we have had a number of days in the 90s. There were enough clouds to make some interesting sunrises and sunsets, though nothing quite like spring and fall skies.
A river of clouds stretching from east at the point of sunrise, all the way over to the western horizon.
We have mainly been spot watering, the good old bucket brigade, using a sprinkler only as needed to keep the gardens and plantings alive and not use too much water, which is becoming a scarcer resource out here in the PNW. I noted the other day that one of the crabapples sported a new cluster of blooms alongside fruit. I also found the same on one of the large apple tree this morning. Both trees bloomed normally in the spring – this was a very limited second blooming – and I am not sure why this has occurred. Click on any photo in this post to enlarge.
Almost fully formed apple and new bloom on August 28th.
Crabapples fully formed on right, new blooms on left. Click to enlarge.
One for the lichen lovers. Lichens growing on the apple tree with the August blooms.
Thank you for reading down this far! My music schedule is filling up again, and I am booked into 2023. If you happen to be in the neighborhood of where I am playing, please do drop in and say hello.
I leave readers with an old Irish blessing. Until we meet again.
Our feature photo this season is of a golden crowned kinglet that paid a visit on November 16th. Early that chilly 34 degree morning, I heard a thud on my office window and looked up to see that this little bird had conked himself on it. I went out and collected him off the window; he was upside down, hanging on to the sill by the little toenails on one foot. I warmed him in my hands for a bit, and got some quick photos of him.
Top view – golden crown with orange stripe is a male.
He was alert, though he did not want to leave my hand, finally walking up my arm and trying to stay perched on my sleeve. His toenails are designed for gripping, and they did a good job. I did manage to get him off onto an old raisin canister, which I placed in a paper bag so he could warm up until he got his senses back.
He finally walked onto a raisin canister.
I knew those old raisin canisters were good for something.
By the time the sun had risen above the mists, he had flown off. Sometimes Nature gives us a close look at our fellow creatures. This one was indeed a brave and regal little bird. I was pleased to be able to help him on his way back to his own kind.
News from the farm
The autumn passed quickly here, and we found ourselves back in the rainy season again, long days of grey and wet punctuated by weak, low-angled sun. After the summer’s above normal heat and drought, we do not mind it, though it makes stargazing and moon viewing difficult. It is a transitional time of year to enjoy dawn as well as the post sundown sky in all their vivid colors. I have tried to slow down, and rest more, though somehow I am busier than ever. The new wine has been cold stabilizing on the lees, and I have been too occupied to rack it off. It will be fine until I can get to it within the next couple of weeks.
Dawn’s pink clouds December 4th.
Trees and sky on December 4th.
Post sundown sky on November 25th.
Gopher mound soil, freshly dug and pulverized by those industrious rodents, was collected for making grape vine cuttings, both table grapes and wine grapes. We keep cuttings on hand to replace vines that fail, and to propagate some of the more interesting varieties. Summer is hard on new plantings, which require a lot of water to get established.
Grape cuttings waiting out the winter.
I bought a used van for escaping with all the humans, cats and a few supplies. In case of fire, this vehicle could hold all that. I was going to call the van “Voyager“, but a relative has christened it “Jupiter 2” instead, and the name seems to be sticking. Old Seabisquit the Subaru is garaged, waiting for repair work while my left arm and shoulder are waiting to heal up from some hard work and overuse. For those readers who have wondered and previously commented, or may be wondering anew , I spell Seabisquit the Subaru with a “q”, not a “c”, as it is only a name, names can be spelled different ways, and I wanted it to be different from the famous thoroughbred, whose story I read as a child. I don’t plan on changing it for anyone.
For GP Cox at Pacific Paratrooper, here is the winter 2021 photo of the coastal sequoia planted in memory of your son Michael some years ago. The tree, 10 years old, is now making cones! Cone formation is a new milestone in the life of this handsome tree.
Micheal’s tree, tall and proud.
Note pine cones at the top. First year we have seen them!
A lot of daffodils went in this autumn, and a few new redwoods given to us by a tree farmer were transplanted into pots for the winter. Even in this dark time, green shoots of daffodils and dutch irises are poking their heads out of the cold, damp earth, answering a call far older than mankind. Lichens, swollen with rain water, festoon trees in a greenish-grey, covering branches, logs and stumps. It is winter in the Pacific Northwest.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
It has been a difficult two years. Loss and isolation have touched so many we know. Mr. Nano, our head correspondent, tends to look on the lighter side of life, and has decided to share his thoughts on the season with readers. His enthusiastic spirit continues to brighten darker days, reminding us that everything in life is temporary, our basic needs are met, and there is nothing much to complain about.
Mr. Nano, ever watchful.
Nightfall comes early, and dawn’s first light a glimmer well past rising time. Barn and utility lights glow like earthbound stars on the surrounding hills; those in the shadow of the eastern ridge still blazing for a while after the first blue light of early morning has faded into day.
Cloud cover obscures much of the moon’s activities, though at full moon, she is so bright, all appears visible out there in the vineyards and orchard to the east, and I can see all that moves. A spider patrols a web she has built off of the porch thermometer, and can be observed in weather one might think too cold for such activities. Many generations of her kind have taken up residence there for the winter.
Snow comes most years, at least some, often driven by a stiff west wind that plays a pensive tune in the chimes on the porch. Snow fall comes in many sizes and forms, quietly covering the normal green of winter grass, a reflective blanket of white. Even at new moon, when no moon is visible in the night sky, visibility in general increases, and much can still be seen.
The rain returns soon enough, a gentle staccato on the metal roof. Snow melts, green widens and coalesces. A tree frog calls somewhere not far from the window. It is the ebb and flow winter weather in the Pacific Northwest.
– Correspondent Mr. Nano, reporting from the Feline Desk of Salmon Brook Farms
We wish our readers safe travels to wherever their destination in life may lead them.
Mount Hood as seen from the plane some years ago on the way into PDX..
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I have been able to play music out on a limited basis this past year and will continue to do so again in 2022, as the Covid situation permits. If you are in the area and wish to stop by and see me play somewhere, do check out the Performance Schedule page.
For those readers who missed previous posts or are new to this blog, I am posting on mostly seasonal basis now. Hopefully someday, I may be able to actually catch up on the many projects, including updating the pages associated with this blog, as well as stay in touch with all of you. I will keep the performance schedule updated regularly. New videos will follow as soon as I can get to them. For those readers who are new or catching up, do visit the Salmon Brook Farms YouTubechannel. Our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March, 2017.
Those who know me well also know I am a big fan of the late Kate Wolf, recorded a few of her songs on my last CD, and I will be recording some more of her music in the future as well. The Minstrel is one of her songs I learned a while ago. Here it is adapted and arranged for the 12 string guitar tuned to Open G.
Full Circle, one of my own songs, was written in the aftermath of 9/11/2001 and is a song about love and enjoying life while one can. I’ve played it out all the intervening years, and recorded here recently with the lights down, much like a typical evening here I’d be practicing. It is a bit dark, but I make no apologies. There are no flashy graphics, just one woman, one voice, and a guitar. The guitar featured here is my old Ventura 12 string. I bought this old friend at a kiosk in a mall for $100 back in 1977. For those interested in lutherie, this guitar is a bit different in that it has a zero fret up by the nut. To my knowledge, this brand of guitars, which were made in Japan, are not made anymore, and I have only come across one other, not nearly constructed as well. I keep the Ventura tuned to DGDGBD or DGDGA#D. Flat the 3rd and you get G minor. Alternate tunings are easier for small hands and present a bigger box of acoustical paint from which to draw upon. I use Martin Acoustic SP extra light phosphor bronze strings on the Ventura, Martin Acoustic SP light gauge phosphor bronze strings on the Martin guitar, And D’Addario light gauge coated phosphor bronze on the Guild.
I am 18 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on Spotify and YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked due to digital rights content. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site.
Rick retired from playing music some years ago, but he still practices, and plays a few tunes at some of my shows.
The usual autumn leaf colors here tend towards a dull yellow which quickly fades to crinkled brown and quietly slips away with the daylight hours. Blueberry and snowball bush add a darker, almost maroon color to autumn’s palette, though in a good year, the grapes can dress the vineyard in vibrant gold. A sizeable vineyard can be rather striking in autumn. An early light frost and a long drought this year have diminished the chances of that happening here.
The vineyard colors in autumn 2021 may look more like this one from our pinot noir vineyard.
One of several snowball bushes adding a maroon shade to autumn’s palette.
I did find some unusually festive color while wandering about the back lot on October 1st. Our feature photo is of a colorful sprig of what looks to be hawthorn berries, also known as haws, a more unusual orange-gold color than most of what we see for hawthorn fruit around the old farm. Members of the genus Crataegus , hawthorn leaf shape varies, and as well as fruit color can vary from yellow through red to blue-black depending on the species, estimated to be roughly 200 in number. There are a few small bushes of this yellow haw kind growing along the north border.
Hawthorn with orange-yellow fruit. We spotted a few of these this autumn.
A red berried hawthorn, the most common type we see here.
Lichens are beginning to recover from the heat and drought, including my favorite patch of Cladonia I have been watching. The old defunct hazelnut grove is a particularly good place to observe lichens and mosses which grow copiously along the branches, forming multi-species communities up the trunks and along the branches.
A lichen and moss community along a hazelnut branch. There are at least three types of lichen here.
Cladonia growing on old black locust stump.
Delicate Cladonia cups in a miniature garden on same stump as above.
News from the farm
Summer in our region has been one of extreme heat and drought this year, requiring hours of spot watering and rotating which plantings got water so as to conserve well water, and well pump of unknown age. We will have been here 18 years come December. Most plants that tolerated the heat came through the season, though fruit set was often limited, and quite small in the case of our blueberries. Trees with relatively shallow root systems were particularly hard hit, and we may yet lose some of our older fruit trees. Unlike birds and animals that can migrate and search for water, trees and fellow plants are rooted in place and must make do with what they have. Mycorrhizal networks can assist in water and nutrient transport, and general soil health is of particular importance.
Grapes throw roots that can reach 5 to 6 feet down. Our pinot noir did well in spite of the heat, and ripened early. The harvest came in at 22 brix, and two separate fermentations of rosé wine using Premier Blanc yeast finished up on September 25th and 27th. I leave them to settle out on the lees under refrigeration until December, when they will be bottled. Hand crushed, strained, inoculated and fermented in stainless steel stock pots by me, it is enough to keep Rick in lunch wine for a good part of the year. I have reused some old photos of the process here.
An old photo from the 2017 harvest. This is still my own time honored way of making small batches of wine.
Rick working Quality Control in 2017.
Most readers are aware of the fires out here in the West, along with the resulting smoke and poor air quality, even in areas the fires did not reach. We have been lucky here, and are now entering the rainy season. Each year is a bit different, though the overall trend is becoming hotter, and drier. We note what does well, and what does not, and will adapt what we attempt to grow to conditions as they change.
The constants in life I hold dear are the rising and setting of the sun, the cycles of the moon, familiar constellations in the night sky. Night’s dark veil rising in the east after sundown and rolling away to the west come morning, the color changes at the bookends of the day. I wake up during the night, and watch out the window. I see and hear a lot on moonlit nights. Tree frogs chorusing in late winter and spring, raccoon tries to get through bird netting to eat our grapes in fall. I listen to the coyotes sing up in the hills, the piercing cry of the hawk, the pleasant peeting of the chickadee. I know when the neighbor’s chicken has laid an egg. We all have our time and place. Time is a precious thing, as is a sense of place. There is less road ahead than there is behind me, and choices have more meaning.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
It has been a hard year for the crew with the loss of three of the old guard. The remaining five have been adjusting, and establishing new routines, and alliances. They will return to news gathering and writing their observations come December.
Marcus, Wynken, Blynken and Nod enjoying a sunny day. Looks a bit crowded up there in the window.
Nano enjoying a peaceful snooze on a soft blanket. He is now the oldest.
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I have been able to play music out on a limited basis this year. If you are in the area and wish to stop by and see me, do check out the Performance Schedule page.
For those readers who missed previous posts or are new to this blog, I will be posting on mostly seasonal basis now. Hopefully someday, I may be able to actually catch up on the many projects, including updating the pages associated with this blog, as well as stay in touch with all of you. I will keep the performance schedule updated regularly. New videos will follow as soon as I can get to it. For those readers who are new or catching up, do visit the Salmon Brook Farms YouTubechannel. Our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March, 2017.
Those who know me well also know I am a big fan of the late Kate Wolf, recorded a few of her songs on my last CD, and I will be recording some more of her music in the future as well. The Minstrel is one of her songs I learned last year. Here it is adapted and arranged for the 12 string guitar tuned to Open G.
Full Circle, one of my own songs, was written in the aftermath of 9/11/2001 and is a song about love and enjoying life while one can. I’ve played it out all the intervening years, and recorded here recently with the lights down, much like a typical evening here I’d be practicing. It is a bit dark, but I make no apologies. There are no flashy graphics, just one woman, one voice, and a guitar. The guitar featured here is my old Ventura 12 string. I bought this old friend at a kiosk in a mall for $100 back in 1977. For those interested in lutherie, this guitar is a bit different in that it has a zero fret up by the nut. To my knowledge, this brand of guitars, which were made in Japan, are not made anymore, and I have only come across one other, not nearly constructed as well. I keep the Ventura tuned to DGDGBD or DGDGA#D. Flat the 3rd and you get G minor. Alternate tunings are easier for small hands and present a bigger box of acoustical paint from which to draw upon. I use Martin Acoustic SP extra light phosphor bronze strings on the Ventura, Martin Acoustic SP light gauge phosphor bronze strings on the Martin guitar, And D’Addario light gauge coated phosphor bronze on the Guild.
I am 18 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on Spotify and YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked due to digital rights content. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site.
Rick retired from playing music some years ago, but he still practices, and plays a few tunes at some of my shows. Here is is at St. Innocent Winery back in August.
Our feature photo this month is of a particularly interesting sunset cloudscape from November 27th. I was captivated by the sense of depth, texture and mood presented on this particular evening.
Sunset clouds on November 27th.
Each day is unique, quietly revealing ephemeral treasures to those who take the time to look for them.
Heart of blue amid stormy skies.
Sunset in pink.
The transition into night is a time for reflection as the day comes to an end; the purple veil in the east rises earlier and earlier as the season progresses. Our November moon is waning, just past last quarter, rising later each evening. She is a beacon for all who wander about in the darkness, observing the heavens. We will not see her tonight due to heavy cloud cover and rain.
Night draws closer as the sun drops further below the horizon.
Early morning is a beautiful, contemplative time of day; silver-grey mists form and rise, taking the sunrise colors of pink and gold, and finally stark white when the sun has climbed well above the horizon. They will quickly drift away as cloud.
Early morning mists.
Morning contrails.
News from the farm
It is the time of year when the farm may stand enshrouded in heavy fog all day, with no sign, no hint of the blue river above the soft, quiet coverlet of mist and low cloud. Occasional pockets of cold air moving at ground level brush against my face and arms as they wander across the farm, like the touch of passing ghosts, sentient and otherworldly.
A doe and her offspring grazing along the row of table grapes back in October. Click on any photo in this post to enlarge.
The months of October and November marched on through the farm in the yearly parade of seasonal produce, changing colors, turbulent skies, windstorms, falling leaves and deer in search of greenery. Jack Frost, herald of Old Man Winter, has come by on clear nights with his silver brush, leaving a trail of both scintillating sunlit morning beauty and destruction in his wake. The persimmon tree, and some types of apples, welcome his return with sweeter fruit after a good frosting.
Lovage growing in a half barrel sports a light covering of frost. The lovage clump did not appreciate Jack Frost’s visit.
Our beautiful old persimmon tree, festooned with fruit and colorful leaves.
Apples on a frosty morning.
Most leaves except for the marcescent have fallen, and have been raked up and placed in garden beds to help build the soil. The last roses of the season have bloomed; I lost a dear relative to extreme old age; the eldest of our cats now lives on borrowed time, the endless cycle of life of which all of us are a part. We all have our time. It has been a bitter-sweet season, and when darkness falls, I find myself thinking of a Maori evening prayer I learned from a friend in New Zealand. Safe and warm inside, the Christmas cactus enters its bloom cycle again. Outside, a lone red rosebud which never opened remains tightly folded against the cold.
Ross were still vibrant and blooming in late October.
Rosé wine from our own pinot noir is still cold stabilizing on the lees; samples were taken for evaluation today. I processed and fermented two batches of our best pinot noir grapes, selected and harvested by Rick, within a week of each other. Epernay 2 yeast (Red Star Cotes des Blanc) was used for its characteristics, as was done the previous year. Rick found both samples acceptable, they will be bottled soon.
Rick, hard at work evaluating the new rosé wine with food.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Mr. Nano, ever watchful.
Mr. Nano contacted the Sicilian Feline Correspondents Desk for this month’s report, as old Willowis seriously under the weather and receiving much attention. Her kidneys are failing, and she is currently on subcutaneous fluids. For readers familiar with the BBC/ PBS series Poldark, Mr Nano is of the opinion Willow would have made a most fitting old Aunt Agatha Poldark, as played by Caroline Blakiston. One a geriatric feline, the other a fictional human, both are beloved to those who understand and appreciate their unique spirits.
Willow in earlier times, reading a card from her friends Doug (human), Dougy (cat) and Andy(cat). Willow is not well these days.
Without further ado, Sicilian feline correspondent Lucky and his fellow correspondents from the olive farm present their findings on life in the Sicilian countryside. Readers may note from previous posts that Lucky is blind, and although his acute hearing, exceptional navigational abilities and sense of olfaction are invaluable to his reports, his fellow correspondents have provided all the visual descriptions. Olive farmers and photographers M. and J. have kindly provided the photos of their farm in Sicily used in Lucky’s report.
Autumn on the Olive Farm in the Sicilian Countryside
Autumn arrived, bringing more rain than is seen in a normal year for our region. Between August and October, almost a year’s worth of rain fell, making tilling the ground and harvesting olives extremely difficult. Fortunately, we did not have to harvest olives this year. The previous year, a bountiful harvest gave us enough oil to last two years, allowing one time enjoy reading and strolling through garden and olive grove.
Although Lucky is now blind, he understands the value of reading. Photo credit M.G.
While making my daily rounds, I happened upon a visitor lurking in the lavender, an Acherontia atropos, more commonly known as a subspecies of the Death’s head hawkmoth. As an adult it is commonly identified by the vaguely skull-shaped pattern adorning the thorax.
A hawk moth caterpillar. Photo credit M.G.
Due to unusual weather, a prickly pear plant with a flower, opuntus fica-indica, was found near others bearing their fall fruit.
Prickly pear cactus in flower. Photo credit M.G.
Prickly pear with fruit. Photo credit M.G.
The array of autumn colors was stunning. Fiery pyracantha presented its bright orange berries while the Lantana burst with red flowers.
Pyracantha. Photo credit M.G.
Lantana. Photo credit M.G.
Fall irises and golden oxalis were nestled in along the path while wild mushrooms were discovered scattered throughout the field, much to my delight.
Iris. Photo credit M.G.
Oxalis. Photo credit M.G.
As always, we wish our readers a pleasant evening ahead, and safe travels to wherever their destination in life may lead them.
– Lucky, Sicilan Feline Correspondent, reporting for the House of Many Paws
Correspondent Lucky, at home in Sicily.
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I was privileged to be accepted into the Spokane Fall Folk Festival again this year. Once again, we saddled up a trusty vehicle and made the trip up over the Cascades, through eastern Oregon and on to Spokane in eastern Washington. We stopped to eat at the Black Bear Diner, our favorite breakfast place.
The Black Bear Diner in Madras, Oregon. The bear is still driving the truck.
I was pleased to have a good set, superb sound engineers and an appreciative audience. It was all I could have asked for at the festival.
A blurry photo as the flash was unfortunately off, and the hand of the photographer unsteady as my own. Photos of all the performers can be found on the festival’s site.
If you are in the area and wish to see me play live, please visit the Performance Schedulepage in the ring menu at the top of this post.
For those readers who are new or catching up, do visit the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel. Our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March, 2017. I am 15 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come!
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos. There will be more videos when I can get back to this project.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSICin the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site.
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Ourfeature photo this month is of an orb weaver spider found inhabiting the northwest border of the farm. Although not as large or colorful as the resident orb weaver from 2017, I was quite taken with the intricate design on this one.
Our 2018 resident orb weaver, sporting some striking markings.
Rather camera shy, she fled into the arbor vitae and this photo was the best one I was able to take of her. A very brief rain and wind squall took down her web. We hope she was safely ensconced in the arbor vitae until she can rebuild.
On the other hand, our 2017 orb weaver in the garden was quite willing to be photographed from many angles, and was featured in our August 2017 post, where she is presenting her best pose.
Our orb weaver from 2017, a bit larger and more colorful.
News from the farm
The month of September has passed, along with summer’s intensive heat. Even on an aberrant late September day in the low 90s, the sun coming in at a much lower angle is much more pleasant in mid afternoon. Although still fairly dry, rain has come in small amounts in the form of misting rain or brief squalls. Not enough precipitation has fallen to soak the hard, sun-baked clay soil, only just enough to wet flower, leaf and stem, with promises of more to come.
After a brief storm, roses were beaded and heavy with raindrops.
The leaves seem more intensively colorful this year, showing a bit more orange and gold among the usual paler yellows and crumpled browns. Perhaps it is all my perception, wishing this year’s work on all fronts to be completed as soon as possible, so I may rest, dormant until spring might awaken me in all its floral abundance and sense of wonder at the annual renewal of life. Dormancy is never an option here, though; life only slows down, temporarily. Yet I would hold onto this transitional time of year, savor all its sights, scents and sounds. The unique sense of clarity in autumn’s low angled light, the touch of warm sunshine and cooler air on the skin, the colorful cloudscapes at the bookends of the day are all unique to the transitional seasons here, although autumn wields a special magic all her own in this season of falling leaves and bounty from garden, orchard and vineyard.
Developing apple in progress!
Cascade table grapes behind bird netting. They are providing good eating!
Suffolk Red table grapes behind bird netting. Ready to harvest any time now.
A good supply of plums have been dried and stashed away for the winter months. There are days when I feel much in common with some of the little fellows in the order Rodentia during the late summer and autumn months of food preservation and storage. In the old doublewide “farmhouse” that stood on the same site as our present home, wild mice bunking in for the winter would bring in hazelnuts and store them in my boots, which were kept in the back extension. For good reasons, we nicknamed that house “The Mouse Hotel”. At night, stray hazelnuts energetically rolled down the inner walls, sounding much like bowling balls fired down an alley, the final crash at the bottom reminiscent of a multiple pin strike. I sometimes wondered if the mice up in the ceiling were gleefully squeaking, “Strike!” Perhaps the old house should have been named “Murine Lanes”. Fortunately there are no signs of mice in the new home, now 6 years old, and the youngest cats, now 5 years old, are content to be the lead investigators regarding any anomalous noises.
The Boys of Salmon Brook Farms, Mr. Lucio (left), Mr. Nano (center) and Mr. Marcus (right), keeping vigil in the old house. That house did have bigger windows, which they enjoyed very much. The only cat from that time period to ever catch a house mouse was Abby, who has been blind in one eye since before we acquired her. Nothing escaped her one good eye. She will be 17 years old next spring.
Our pinot noir grapes are almost ready to press for wine now, and other tasks will wait while grapes are harvested, crushed and the grape must (juice) inoculated with Epernay II yeast. Our goal is to make a rosé wine as good or better than our 2017 vintage.
A small number of pinot noir grapes from our 2017 harvest, enough to squeeze juice to fill a 16 qt sock pot for inoculation.
2017 harvest and crush – all done by hand for small test batches.
Rick, our Quality Control person, personally testing two different batches at lunch last year.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Resident feline correspondent and head of the local correspondents desk Mr. Nano has agreed to let correspondent Miss Nod present September’s report. She has been gathering news from the various window stations, and keeping a journal, from which she would like to share a few selected entries, which she feels would give readers the sense of wonder she experiences here. The farm photographer agreed to assist her. Without further ado, Miss Nod will present her report.
Feline correspondent Miss Nod, conducting an eye to eye interview.
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
It was a beautiful late summer evening, passing all too quickly, as they all do. It was a bit warmer today, which enlivened the stridulators’ evening symphony. A light veil of thin clouds gathered in the west, catching the last glimmer of deepening rose on their undersides, was noted past sundown. The last bit of light disappeared from view around 8:30 PM, the sun headed ever westward. Somewhere in the world, dawn is always breaking.
Sunrise on the farm, September 17, 2018.
Friday, September 7, 2018
In the predawn hours, I noted the constellation Orion near the horizon in east. Towards sunrise, the silhouette of the waning crescent moon hung low in the eastern sky, as the first rays from below the horizon lit up the underside of morning clouds, a beautiful scene to hold in mind’s eye.
A variety of cloud forms noted today, from long, sweeping cirrus mares’ tails to cirrocumulus and altocumulus along with a lower trail of smoky, dusty pall that crept in on September 6th.
A beautiful sundown tonight. One must be quick with the camera at the bookends of the day, when lighting changes rapidly. Nature waits for no one.
Saturday, September 8, 2018
56 degrees and mostly overcast at daybreak, with a narrow blue rift in the bank of clouds to the south. I watched the doe and fawn for a while this morning, grazing out at the edge of the hazelnut grove. The fawn was running high speed circles and figure 8s for the sheer joy of it, the strong legs and spirited heart of youth at work on a cool morning. The doe would join her offspring now and then, but only racing a few strides before returning to foraging. Mother had her own priorities.
Monday, September 10, 2018
Clouds crept in overnight, allowing a warmer morning today at 55 degrees. A light misting rain fell at daybreak. Not enough to soak the ground, just enough to caress the earth and tired vegetation with promises of more to come later. The ceiling soon fractured into heavy cumulus clouds. The cumulus grew fat and woolly during the day, feeding on the aerial river of moisture coming up the Willamette Valley. Stark white to pendulous and grey, these wanderers headed north, sometimes straying over the Cascade foothills to the east.
Thursday, September 13, 2018
A cool, relatively cloudless evening in progress, with a growing, thin crescent moon above, a clear silhouette of the dark side present forming the illusion of an eye trained out into the greater Universe. The temperature is already in the low 50s and dropping. It will be cold in the morning unless a new blanket of clouds buffers the fields and garden from the night’s chill.
Saturday, September 15, 2018
41 degrees before sunrise under mostly clear skies, which are now filling in quickly. The rapidly changing cloud forms are fascinating to watch, especially at the bookends of the day when light levels change rapidly. A few cirrus here and there become long rows of cirrocumulus, looking like corduroy patterns in the sky.
Sundown on the 17th of September. The photographer missed the sunrise clouds on September 15th.
Wednesday, September 19, 2018
Down in the low 40s this morning at sunrise under mostly clear skies. The season of thick morning mists that stratify, curl and wind among the hills is here. Eventually they rise along with the climbing sun, and drift away over the mountains.
The mists of dawn on September 17th. Soon they will rise and drift away as cloud.
A mostly clear evening in progress, with a waxing gibbous moon overhead shining down upon the nightly stridulators still singing out the end of summer.
Thursday, September 20, 2018
I watched a most beautiful end of day present itself, complete with the rising purple veil of night in the east, a golden gibbous moon overhead, and the fading glow of the sun to the west, which had just gone below the horizon. The summer stridulators are still performing nightly in this fine transitional weather.
Saturday, September 22, 2018
It is 58 degrees at 9:19 PM under a fractured night sky, and a gibbous golden moon peering out from behind the galleons sailing by.
Shadows and light from earlier in the day on September 22nd.
Tuesday, September 25, 2018
Young ladybugs were found in the greenhouse, under a strawberry leaf, sitting among the remnants of the egg cases. The nymphs had metamorphosed into tiny adults. They had been feeding off of aphids, some still visible on the underside of the leaf along the mid rib.
Click on photo to enlarge. The photographer returned the ladybugs to the greenhouse after documentation.
Sunday, September 23, 2018 – Autumnal Equinox
45 degrees and mostly cloudy at daybreak, the official first day of the fall season. A daily pattern can be seen now of mists that stratify and rise with the sun, coalescing into ragged clouds that wander away to the north or east over the Cascades. We soon had an autumnal blue sky with patches of cloud, and light breezes stirring about the farm.
Tuesday, September 25, 2018
A chilly 37 degrees under clear skies before sunrise. The purple veil of night rolled away to the west, accompanied by the bright, full moon majestically set upon it. Mists stratify and wind around the hills, thick in the low areas, but soon rising and drifting away. I particularly enjoy these times when night is caught running westward while the brightening new day draws near the eastern horizon. One leaving, one arriving, different colors and moods.
A closer view of sundown on September 17th.
A warmer, summer-like day, rising into the low 80, with a few scant cirrus clouds. The sun is still quite warm, although not so intense. I have been watching its progress south along the eastern ridge at sunrise, and south along the far hills at sunset. A mostly clear night in progress. A deer took off down the driveway after dark.
Thursday, September 27, 2018
It was not quite 44 degrees under clear skies just before sunrise. A waning gibbous moon hangs higher and higher in the western sky each morning, an apparent retrograde movement of the orbiting body to the observer. Mostly clear skies and as warm as a summer day at 87 today, although the sun was not as intense, being at a lower angle at this time of year. The air has a slight nip to it by sundown, even after a warm day. A time to observe pink contrails forming in the western sky, and the rapidly changing colors of any clouds present as the sun continues to sink below the horizon. They eventually fade to lavender, then grey, as night overtakes them.
Saturday, September 29, 2018
A brief thunderstorm dropped 5 minutes of rain, cooling things off and making creating one of the most beautiful and colorful cloudscapes towards sundown.
We wish our readers a pleasant evening ahead, and safe travels to all wherever their destination in life may lead them.
-Resident Feline Correspondent Nod, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Wishing our readers safe travels to wherever their destination in life may lead them.
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
A couple of musicians I know from the Corvallis Folklore Society, Kurt Smith and Dick Thies, performing at the Corvallis Wednesday Market on September 26th.
Kurt Smith and Dick Thies at the Corvallis Wednesday Farmers Market on September 26, 2018. A thoroughly enjoyable show, and great sign on Kurt’s wagon.
September was a relatively quiet one musically, as most of my time was involved in projects here and working extra time. I am looking forward to October!
If you are in the area and wish to see me play live, please visit the Performance Schedule page in the ring menu at the top of this post.
For those readers who are new or catching up, do visit the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel. Our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March, 2017. I am 15 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come!
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos. There will be more videos when I can get back to this project.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archivesite.
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Our feature photo for August is of a resident crab spider that has ambushed an unwary visitor to this lovely rose. I have often found these spiders inhabiting floral truck stops in the gardens, waylaying assorted pollinators that have come seeking refreshment, and sometimes a place to spend the night, amid the beautiful but potentially deadly blooms.
An unwary visitor has been captured by this flower’s resident crab sider.
News from the farm
The air has been hazy with dust from agriculture, and smoke from field burning and distant fires. There is little to no rain, and what seems like endless days in the 90s. Rooted in place, trees, shrubs and other plant life stoically wait out the dry season, the only indication of their stress noted in their dry, drooping leaves. We spot water the most needy, conserving water and well pump.
We have four young pinot meunier vines that were given to us. They came from a heritage block up around Newberg, Oregon. A place has been found in the vineyard to grow these youngsters who will require water until they are established.
August is the primary month to view dust devils, those carefree vortices seen spinning lazily across farmland after grass seed, wheat and straw have been harvested in Oregon’s Willamette Valley. Impressively large machines harvest, plow and pulverize the soil, sending the dust of Oregon swirling up into the atmosphere until early summer’s azure blue has taken on tones of tan and grey. The clarity of light noted earlier this summer is now gone, and will not return for some time. As this month of heat and dust comes to a close, we are grateful for this year’s bounty of fruit and vegetables, and anxiously wait for the grape harvest and this year’s wine.
Pinot noir before covering with insect netting. It is a heavy yellow jacket year here.
Insect netting was quite effective last year, and worth the investment.
We have a short row of Early Muscat and Gewürztraminer. The grapes shown here are Early Muscat.
It is cooling down sooner in the evenings now as the last light fades and the stellar community reveals itself, as a symphony of stridulators performs in the growing darkness. The rising veil of night in the east comes earlier; the calendar shows we are only about three weeks now from autumnal equinox.
Sunset on the 29th of August.
The same sunset, a short time later.
A week earlier, I saw one of our grey foxes one evening when I was finishing up watering the garden. A sleek healthy fox had flushed a dove, and was chasing it down past the garden where I stood not 50 feet away. The fox was not quick enough, and the bird escaped the jaws of death yet another day. Looking longingly after a lost meal, our fox sat down, unaware of my presence, turning to look at me only when I called to him. He moved only when I went out the gate, disappearing back into the woodland, long brushy tail streaming out behind.
We have been enjoying eating fresh plums and apples right off the trees these days, as well as blackberries, raspberries and tomatoes. We are grateful for all that we have, and consider ourselves very lucky to be here on this farm. Life is good.
Raspberries, variety “Amity”.
Raspberries, variety “Autumn Bliss”.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Resident feline correspondent and head of the local correspondents desk Mr. Nano is still on vacation this month, sleeping off the summer heat and enjoying the breezes coming in the window. Miss Wynken of the Three Sisters will file another report in his absence. She has chosen a few excerpts from her daily logs for August, 2018. Without further ado, Miss Wynken will present her report.
Correspondent Miss Wynken gathering news from one of her many window stations.
Correspondent Miss Wynken contemplating her report. “What do I tell our readers?”
Saturday, August 4, 2018: A breeze sprung up in mid morning, and a front appears to be coming in from the south. A long swath of altocumulus and cirrus, a clear zone, and then another band of interesting development, including some kind of cumulus convection cell that grew in the shape of chanterelle mushrooms. Flared tubes with delicately gilled throats, rising up and capping off in a frilled top, were a reminder that mushroom season will be here again in a few months. I see these unusual cloud forms from time to time. The waning moon in last quarter, white with faint grey marbling like sea-tumbled quartz, was sailing west on an intensely blue river of sky between the swaths of frontal cloud.
Sunday, August 12, 2018: 52 and mostly cloudy at daybreak, which opened up soon enough into mostly clear skies,a pleasant breeze and a high somewhere in the low to mid 80s. I watched a squirrel come barreling down the driveway, followed closely by a blue jay who was pecking the squirrel’s behind. The windows stayed open until the late afternoon sun heated the house up; the arrival of dinner guests who had been traveling in a hot car were pleased to come into a cool place. It was a day busy end to end with small things. By post-sundown, a patch of hazy clouds to the southwest had grown, and more had flocculated in the direction of the setting sun. A partly clear night in progress here as another day has slipped though my paws like sand.
Tuesday, August 14, 2018: A pleasant 52 degrees under hazy skies at daybreak. It was extremely hazy but not humid today. I did not smell smoke today or this evening, yet it looks smoky; the dark forms of conifers on the surrounding hills appear as if through a veil. I am becoming used to heat in the 90s, perhaps because the daylight hours are shrinking and the heat does not build for quite as long.
Another orange-red sundown this evening. It is still near 80 out there at this time as another day comes to a close, and the stridulating insects of late summer play their symphonies out there as the daylight fades and the cooler realm of night rises up from the east.
Thursday August 16, 2018: Small birds perched sideways on lemon balm stalks collected seed. I noted a brief interaction between a goldfinch and a hummingbird, the surprised goldfinch getting out of the way of the hummingbird.
A summer night in progress, complete with August’s nightly symphony of insects, signaling September is not far off. A waxing orange-red crescent moon sails across a smoky sea. Even the bright planets appear reddish, and far fewer stars are visible through the haze.
Tuesday August 21, 2018: Another orange sunrise, hazy morning down in the low 50s, rising into the mid 90s by mid afternoon. A warm breeze blew most of today, with a pensive, wandering feel to it; its path revealed in the rustling of leaves, shrubs and dry grass . Everything is so dry, waiting for rain that will be a while in coming.
Saturday August 25, 2018: A variable cloudy day, rising into the mid 70s by afternoon. The feeling is more autumn-like out there, and it is easy to envision first frost within a month. The bright orange, golds and reds of New England do not grace the hills here. Tired, drought-stricken leaves slowly turn a faded yellow and brown, quietly slipping away with the daylight hours. The rains and winds will come, stripping the remaining leaves off the branches.
Sunday August 26, 2018: The earth is damp this morning; dew covered webs of ground nesting spiders cover the yard in a silver gossamer patchwork. A light breeze gently ripples through trees and vegetation, a whispered prayer for rain.
Monday August 27, 2018: I awoke just after 7:00 AM to overcast conditions. A relatively warm 57 degrees; all was wetted down from a very light rain sometime during the night, not enough to really do much good except keep down the dust and bring an arachnid Brigadoon into view. A rain-drenched city of spider webs, particularly the ground spider webs that resemble tiny faerie trampolines, was now visible. Eventually they will all fade from view in the heat of the day, concealed until the next damp window of visibility.
We wish our readers a pleasant evening ahead, and safe travels to all wherever their destination in life may lead them.
-Resident Feline Correspondent Wynken, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Bright sunset clouds on August 29th. Nature’s most beautiful skyscapes, and wildlife, can be seen at the bookends of the day.
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
On our way over to a show in Yachats, on the westbound side of Route 34 we passed a small wooden sign with red letters which read, “PIE 3.14 miles”. Unfortunately, there was no good place to stop on that side of the narrow road, which winds its way through a sparsely populated section of the Coast Range, and take a photo. We did pass a real pie shop out in the wilds further down, and figured there must be a sign somewhere on the eastbound side about 3 miles down. Sure enough, we did see one, managed to turn around without getting ourselves killed, and got the photo below. Some mischievous soul had added “.1427” after the “3”. My brother the mathematician informed me that the sign was incorrect, and that the decimal expansion of pi is approximately 3.14159265.
There really was a pie shop down the road, although we are not sure of the exact mileage. Click on photo to enlarge.
If you are in the area and wish to see me play live, please visit the Performance Schedule page in the ring menu at the top of this post.
For those readers who are new or catching up, do visit the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel. Our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March, 2017. I am 15 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come!
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos. There will be more videos when I can get back to this project.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archivesite.
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Developing blackberries, variety “Black Magic”. The changing of the seasons and so many good, healthful things to eat make the end of summer and early autumn my favorite time of year.
Our feature photo this month is of a bumblebee parked in a hollyhock bloom after sundown. Like truckers on the interstate, over the years I have seen bumblebees pulled over and settled in for the night in blossoms, on grape leaves, or other plants.
Let sleeping bees lie. This little bumblebee tucked into a hollyhock bloom for the night.
News from the farm
June’s fractured skies, cold mornings, lush green and colorful flowers have given way to hot, bone dry conditions in July, and an early fire season. The frogs have long since ceased their songs of vernal pool days and are quiet, occasionally found hiding in a flower pot, or in the greenhouse; only the sound of a distant peacock rocks the night from somewhere over across the fields on another farm.
Early June’s rain-drenched roses.
And a daylily bloom, beaded with raindrops.
Spring was long and cool, although drier than normal for our area, her mood pensive and unresolved. She chased Jack Frost about with cloudy nights, driving him away while fruit trees blossomed and set. We will have pears again this year.
The multilevel skies of early June.
A wild rabbit inhabits the north border once again, and has become somewhat used to my presence. At times, rabbit is bolder, wandering about the rose bed on the other side of the house.
Our north border resident, just below center. Click on any photo to enlarge.
Grass, now mostly golden brown to whitish-tan and punctuated by heat tolerant coast dandelions, hypochaeris radicata , crinkles and crushes underfoot. I feel the changing of the seasons more acutely with every passing year. A lifetime of noting the temperature, the skies, vegetation and wildlife, knowing what to expect and roughly when, yet each year is unique in its presentation, sometimes oscillating wildly about the normal of my experience. Each passing year is more precious, not only for its annual abundance, but for its bright parade of memories, and for our own growth as individuals living upon this Earth. All things are connected to all things.
Early June – old heirloom roses on the north border, with myrtle growing below, wild and carefree.
Early June – the first peony to bloom.
Watering becomes more critical to heat stressed plants that do not have deep root systems like mature grape vines, resulting in much spot watering, bucket brigades and soaker hose sessions.
A view up the row of table grapes from this afternoon.
And up a couple of rows in the pinot noir vineyard. Rick has been hard at work trimming and tying up canes. We had good fruit set this year.
In the cool of the evening, hummingbirds dart about the hollyhocks in the main garden, occasionally coming close in to observe us. The resident doe sometimes comes out to feed up near the house. Sundown does not often disappoint, coloring whorls and flows of cirrus clouds in flaming orange-rose set against a fading light blue sky.
Dust devils, those carefree vortices spawned by heat and dry soil conditions, have been sighted already since wheat and grass seed appear to have been harvested early by several weeks. They will soon turn summer’s brilliant blue skies to tan and grey, especially when soot and smoke from forest fires around the state add to the mixture of airborne particulate matter.
One evening, I found an old tattered honeybee of the field class, crawling along the ground. Young bees have a fuzzy thorax, the older ones go bald on the thorax, giving away their age. The typical life span of the field worker in season is only 6 weeks. She was found crawling at a good pace along the ground; a yellow jacket was hovering around, perhaps having caught her scent. I scooped up the old bee on a dandelion leaf, and put her in a shallow container with a few drops of water and some honey on a toothpick to help revive her. She was gone an hour later, after darkness had fallen. Most likely she crawled away, or was eaten by something.
I sit in my office, well fed and safe. Everywhere out there in nature, small dramas continually unfold. Someone is eaten, someone survives another day, someone dies or is born. The moon rises as it has for millions of years, watching the history of Man unfold, and endless cycles of life on this planet.
Sunset on July 24th, clouds over the hill to the south.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Resident feline correspondent and head of the local correspondents desk Mr. Nano is on vacation this month, sleeping off the summer heat. He has assigned correspondent Miss Wynken of the Three Sisters to file a report in his absence. After much thought, she has chosen a few excerpts from her daily logs for July, 2018. Without further ado, Miss Wynken will present her report.
Correspondent Miss Wynken gathering news from one of her many window stations.
Correspondent Miss Wynken contemplating her report. “What do I tell our readers?”
Wednesday, July 4th: I enjoyed the post sundown sky, mostly lavender-grey and cream colored splotchy cumulus type clouds, splattered across the dome above like paint thrown at a canvas. Summer is moving along at a fast clip; I note the daily changes in the land and in myself.
Thursday, July 5th: The moon is approaching last last quarter, or waning half-moon, and rises late. She is a good companion, shining in the east window, golden and bright in the wee hours of the morning, still bright enough to illuminate the farm and its nighttime residents lurking about.
Tuesday, July 10th: A cool and breezy 49 degrees morning here under clear skies. Cheery, fair weather cumulus soon made an appearance, dotting the azure blue above with stark white cotton ball forms. From the window, I watched blueberry picking in progress in late morning, a moving meditation for the human among the curious and playful breezes, insects and birds, at times feeling the cool shadow of a passing cloud overhead.
The hummingbirds have been quite active, probing the sweet pea blooms along the north border. Occasionally one hovers in front of a window, where I am stationed. Curiosity satisfied, they return to their duties among the flowers.
Wednesday, July 11th: The land has cooled down at this time; tendrils of night air bring in the scents of grasses, various forbs and dry earth. Another day comes to a close. Darkness does not descend upon us, rather it rises in the deepening band of purple-blue on the eastern horizon as the sun continues its westward run below the horizon, and the last glow fades. Stars make themselves known, the brighter ones a few at a time until blackness overtakes the dome, and vastness of space with its stellar community is revealed again.
Wednesday, July 18th: Sundown on July 18th was memorable, not so much in terms of color but in clarity of light. A clear night in progress here; the occasional breeze off the cooling land plays amid the chimes on the porch. Summer stridulators have replaced the chorus frogs of spring, changing the mood and tempo of the Nature’s nightly performance.
Friday, July 20th: I awoke to a cool and clear 43 degrees at 6:30 this morning. A small band of clouds appeared around the south to southwest horizon not long afterward, which have now almost overtaken us. Morning light dims, but somehow still maintains the sharp, crystalline look of daybreak. A light breeze has sprung up, gently rocking the vegetation at close to ground level. Another day begins.
We wish our readers a pleasant evening ahead, and safe travels to all wherever their destination in life may lead them.
-Resident Feline Correspondent Wynken, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Crossing contrails that have spread, and captured the last colors of the day in pink. Another day ends.
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I continue to enjoy playing out again, especially as a terminal musician. Juggling music, family, farm, and outside work, which pays the bills which enables us to play music and keep the farm (and cats) going, has kept me more than occupied. June and July have not been any more conducive to finishing music projects at home than May, but I did make time to attend John Doan’s 11th annual harp guitar retreat, a much needed refreshing and energizing four days at the end of June. Rick took excellent care of the cats while I was away, and he says they were very good boys and girls, mostly. It sounds like the nine of them kept him quite busy, with little time for anything else.
The harp guitar is a both a beautiful and amazing sounding instrument; I encourage readers to learn more about it, and the musicians that perform this kind of music. Readers can visit John Doan’s official website here and see videos of his concerts, presentations, and interviews. He is a master of the 20 string harp guitar, Emmy-nominated performer, composer, public speaker, historian, instrument collector and university professor.
In July we were visited by our traveling musician friends Laurie Jennings and Dana Keller. It is always a pleasure to hear them perform when they pass through our area. Please check their tour schedule. You may be able to catch them in California or Texas before they return to Florida at the end of October. They are considering a tour of the United Kingdom. Please don’t hesitate to contact them if you would like to see them in your area! You can catch their videos here.
If you are in the area and wish to see me play live, please visit the Performance Schedule page in the ring menu at the top of this post.
For those readers who are new or catching up, do visit the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel. Our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March, 2017. I am 15 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come!
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos. There will be more videos when I can get back to this project.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
For Nia, my Turkish friend and fellow cat lover. These flowers are part of a living memorial for her cat Surya who passed away earlier.
We received news of a small, curly-haired black dog named Mowglee, a dear companion to a friend (she does spell his name this way, not like R.K.’s Jungle Book character Mowgli), has passed away unexpectedly. He was 14, and suffered a seizure or stroke. Somewhere in the greater Universe, he is running, pain-free and unencumbered by the infirmities of advanced age. He will be missed by all who loved him.
Ourfeature photo this month is Marilyn, one of our reblooming irises. The Marilyn Monroes of the flower world, irises dominate the gardens during the month of May with their eye-catching blooms. Tucked in here and there about the farm, year after year they add grace and beauty to whatever spot they find themselves in. Readers may click on any photo to enlarge.
“Marilyn”, our featured iris for May 2018. In full display, she is reaching for the afternoon sun, her ruffles crisp, clean and elegant.
The appearance of iris blooms signals the month of May is on schedule and in progress.
Looking down the throat of one of our original irises given to us by friends long ago.
And more irises. I believe these were from a discount box of Dutch iris bulbs planted many years ago.
A small patch of wild yellow flag iris.
News from the farm
May has been a tentative month, still feeling the presence of Old Man Winter with cooler, although drier, weather patterns. Many a morning has been cool and grey, dissolving into a patchwork of assorted clouds forms against the stark blue of late morning or afternoon. The aerial rivers of moisture that flow across the Pacific Northwest have yielded little precipitation this month in our area though, and some plants here are prematurely showing signs of water stress.
The wild and everchanging skies of late spring.
Deer have already begun to make themselves known, sampling the roses in the garden. Rick noted deer damage in the back of the rows of table grapes, mostly in the Niagara and Delaware varieties; fresh green shoots were eaten back to the main cane in many places. They will regrow from other dormant buds, but this will set back fruit production in those ones that were eaten. At this time of year we spray deer repellent on the new growth, often initiated by the first attacks on the vines. Our pinot vineyard is safely behind deer fencing.
There were two of them that evening. This one headed for the woods.
Peering out from the apple tree tunnel into the back lot, this deer was waiting for me to leave.
The back meadow, beyond the apple tunnel.
The progression of spring continues into its last phase as more irises enter their bloom time; the gardens have shifted from the golden yellows and whites of daffodils to the predominant late spring and summer shades of blue and purple. Dark purple columbines have been increasing their representation in the gardens every year since a few hitchhiking seeds arrived in a bag of rabbit manure a number of years ago, and settled in by the old garage.
Purple columbine by the old garage.
Cherry, plum and pear blossoms have fallen like snow, replaced by small, hard, green growing fruit.
Pears in progress!
Our vineyards are at the flowering stage, and we hope for an uneventful summer and a good grape harvest. To grow and tend the grapes, and taste one’s own wine made from them, is to truly appreciate what goes into a bottle of wine. It is no longer just a drink, but now a living thing. It is the alchemy of air, sunlight and rain, the soil with all its minerals, nutrients and microbial life, guided by caring and hardworking hands from vine to bottle.
One of our table grapes in flower. When this photo was taken, they were slightly ahead of the pinot in development.
Our head grape tender, also quite happy about the pepper plant starts I grew for him.
Rick enjoys cooking what we grow.
A clear and chilly 36 degrees greeted me at daybreak this morning before I headed across the valley to Corvallis. Down by the waterfront, I was greeted by cold and windy conditions which were mitigated by an unusual and fascinatingly beautiful milky sky. Clouds seem much more impressive when seen through polarized sunglasses; there is an increased sense of depth and distinct boundaries not available to the normal eye. A thin light grey film of high ice crystal clouds covered the sky, providing the backdrop for lower level amoeboid altocumulus and cirrocumulus wandering though the double halo, created by refraction of light through ice crystal prisms. These wanderers passing through the inner circular of the halo took on a faint opalescence of their own. Many bystanders took pictures.
The first daylily bloomed today; the only peony to bloom this year is opening its buds; the north border heirloom rose is beginning its short bloom cycle. The air is thick with the heavy, musk of the black locust tree in bloom. As frenetic as this time of year can be, it is a good time to be alive and feel a part of all things.
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano has called upon the Sicilian Feline Correspondents Desk for Correspondent Lucky’s report on the olive farm at The House of 40 Paws in May. Without further ado, Mr. Lucky will present his findings.
Correspondent Lucky, from the Sicilian Feline Correspondents Desk. Lucky is blind, but navigates the upper and lower bounds of his world on the olive farm with ease. He is an inspiration to all.
Spring on the olive farm has brought longer days and warmer weather which led to the Sicilian Olive Farm cats changing their napping accommodations. The preferred arrangement now is boxes and crates which give enough protection and ample space for piling as many cats as possible into one place. The sunny terrace provides a good vantage point for observation. The mulberry tree, which so kindly gives morning shade, currently shelters a nest of magpies, who are always scolding any cat that approaches too closely.
How many cats can fit in a box? Photo credit M.G.
More cats. Photo credit M.G.
There are two kinds of lavender currently blooming, Stokes or Italian Lavender followed by French Lavender. These plants are a haven for the bees and good hiding places for felines in need of a good surprise ambush to raise adrenaline levels.
Lavender and a view of the spectacular Sicilian countryside. Photo credit M.G.
Early in spring there was a bumper crop of Spinacciola or wild radish. One might consider it a weed but here it is appreciated both for its fragrance and the edible leaves. “Cooked saltate” means boiled first then drained and sautéed in olive oil with hot pepper and garlic; it is delicious!
As winter wheat, vetch and fave beans planted in nearby fields mature, the countryside changes from shades of green to yellow and gold. The wild red poppies that sprout amid the crops visually set the fields on fire.
View of the countryside overlooking the olive trees. Photo credit M.G.
Photo credit M.G.
Poppies abound! Photo credit M.G.
Among the olive trees in our field is a nitrogen fixing plant called Sulla which looks very similar to a red lupine. The resident human farmers have tilled up our field to aerate the soil for the olive trees. We feel fortunate to have a two acre sand box, quite suitable for a blind feline to take care of his personal needs, chase fellow correspondents and hide from human caregivers. I am the primary inspector on this farm, periodically climbing the olive trees to check for buds. I am pleased to report they are ready to bloom. We are hopeful that the rain will hold off until the bees can complete their work pollinating the entire grove.
Olive flowers. Photo credit M.G.
And more olive flowers. Photo credit M.G.
Correspondent Lucky, on the job. Photo credit M.G.
The other correspondents are not quite as adventurous. They express a preference for playing with laundry or having serious philosophical discussions on the terrace.
Many a serious discussion has taken place here. Photo credit M.G.
The Sicilian Feline Correspondents Desk wishes all our readers a bountiful and beautiful summer season.
– Sicilian Feline Correspondent Lucky, reporting from the olive farm at the House of 40 Paws
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I continue to enjoy playing out again, especially as a terminal musician. Juggling music, farm and outside work which pays the bills which enables us to play music and keep the farm (and cats) going has kept me more than occupied. May has not been any more conducive to finishing projects at home than April, and I will make no excuses. Things will be done when they will be done. If you are in the area and wish to see me play live, please visit the Performance Schedule page in the ring menu at the top of this post.
For those readers who are new or catching up, do visit the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel. Our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March, 2017. I am 15 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! Do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Our feature photo this month is of the first snow iris to emerge in the garden on January 28th, from within the clump of a volunteer lemon balm. Another snow iris has appeared this morning, along with the first snowdrops of the season.
Daffodils started their journey towards the sun back in December, forming buds but remaining in a sort of stasis during the colder part of the season, which often went down into the 20s at night. Our first daffodil of the season bloomed on January 16th.
Elbert’s memorial garden over by the cement pad greenhouse is continuing to send up new growth, and will soon be bustling with blooms. Gophers have presented their challenges!
Elbert’s Garden continues along the north side of the greenhouse. More bulbs get added every fall as this garden continues to expand and develop. See https://phainopepla95.com/2016/04/19/
From Elbert’s Garden in late summer 2017, a sun-drenched golden gladiola.
Other memorial gardens will also make an appearance from time to time. Watch for them in spring.
News from the farm
It is mid winter here on our little farm in the Cascade foothills. Yet amid the fallen leaves and skeletal remains of the previous year, green shoots continue to push their way up out of the cold, wet soil, their own internal clocks driving the annual reach for sunlight.
It is our winter rainy season in western Oregon, punctuated with days of sun and even some days reaching 70 degrees. Low areas are channeled with runoff, and there is much standing water about. In heavy rains, even gopher holes will spout water like mini artesian wells; I wonder about the inhabitants and their evacuation strategies. Barn lights still glow on the distant hills on heavily overcast mornings; the night’s darkness is reluctant to leave under such heavy atmospheric conditions.
Some of these low areas do not dry out until some time in June.
Pruning work in the vineyard continues, trimming vines down to two lateral canes. Our lives are intertwined with the farm, orchard and vineyard. It is a part of us; like the plum tree whose branches have fused, separation is unthinkable.
Rick at work pruning the pinot noir vineyard.
The old, twisted purple plum tree, we think is an Emperor plum. Two of the branches have twisted around and grown into each other.
On last rounds one evening I noted the resident spider by the porch thermometer, bravely tending her web in the 45 degree wind and rain. She shelters when needed behind the thermometer, which is fastened to the post; there is just enough clearance for her to slip in behind. She is not the first spider to set up housekeeping in this convenient location, prime real estate for catching insects attracted to the porch lights, and for shelter from the elements.
We have a had some days in the mid 60s and even 70 degrees. To the right of the thermometer, a spider web can be seen on close inspection. Click on any photo in this post to enlarge.
On clearer evenings, the moon is a pleasant companion when she is in the visible part of her journey. A few nights ago, a gibbous moon shone down through a mostly clear sky, which appeared to be rapidly filling in with clouds as the evening progressed. Only the most prominent stars were visible, and I was able to find Orion, a familiar landmark in the sky. Pacific Chorus frogs, enlivened by the day’s warm winter sun, provided the music for the nightly dance of the moon and stars across the heavens. An owl softly hooted in the distance.
A chorus frog from 2016, found hiding under the roll-up window on the porch greenhouse.
I continue to marvel at life springing from the ground in winter, the sound of chorus frogs, the nip in the wind, and the perfection in all these things. The smallest details of life are the most important to me, to be held in the moment, studied, and released to go about their business.
The small winged insect in the center I believe is a species of hoverfly. They were out visiting daffodils.
What I believe is a hoverfly visiting a daffodil.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano, ever watchful.
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano has observed much from his window this month, and has also enlisted fellow Feline Correspondent Miss Hope to record her observations from the crow’s nest basket perch next to her window. They have once again sent the photographer out to investigate. Without further ado, Mr. Nano and Miss Hope will present their findings.
Resident Feline Correspondent Miss Hope, reporting from the Crow’s Nest.
Taking a break while Mr. Nano is on duty.
The days are discernibly longer now that we are almost 6 weeks past solstice, especially notable on clear days when one can observe sundown through last light, unobstructed by cloud cover. Of particular beauty is the banding of colors along the eastern horizon, night’s rising purple veil transitioning into rose-pink. Contrail and cloud pick up the last long rays of sun below the horizon, briefly flaming the sky before fading to lavender and finally grey. The guard changes at the boundaries of day and night; the realm of stars becomes visible; creatures of the night begin to stir.
This is a sundown image from 2016 I particularly love for its colors and depth. It was on my wish list to get a good photo of the color transitions on the eastern horizon at sundown this month. Colors change quickly at the bookends of the day, and one has to be prepared to catch them.
Earlier in the lunar cycle, the bright sliver of growing moon bobbed in and out view on night’s partially cloudy sea one evening. A few stars peered down through portholes while a light breeze played in the wind chimes; Pacific chorus frogs struck up a symphony in the low marshy areas. All seemed as it should be; the sense of peace was as encompassing as the mists at ground level.
Marshy wooded area in the back lot.
A walk in the back lot in late afternoon reveals signs of other lives at work. Small green shoots are everywhere, from wild garlic chives and catkins dangling hazelnut trees – the tiny red female flowers will follow in February – to fattening buds on blueberry and tree alike. A blueberry bush near the house was recently damaged by a male deer scraping his antlers, and many cuttings were made from the broken branches. This sort of destruction by roving cervids is usually not seen here past the end of December. Hastily stuck into a pot of good clay gopher mound soil until they can be separated and individually potted, some of these cuttings may survive and root.
Wild garlic chives have sprung up many places out back.
Hazelnut catkins. Tiny red female flowers will follow.
Digger at work. Many such holes were found out back.
Blueberry bush battered by deer scraping antlers. This usually results in new shoot growth from the roots. I am attempting to root cuttings from broken branches.
A pot full of blueberry cuttings, waiting to be separated into pots of their own. Gopher mound dirt, mostly clay soil, makes good medium.
Many small tunnels lead out of the swampy area, including one that leads into the garden. The wire fence mesh would be big enough for a small fox, cat or nutria to get through. A rotten apple had been pulled out of the compost pile and dragged outside the fence; a hungry nutria tired of grass is suspected.
A well-worn path and grassy tunnel into the garden. Gopher mound in the foreground.
Another year is underway as Father Time continues his travels, taking us along with him. We will change along with the land and the seasons, growing older, and hopefully, wiser. Everything here is temporary, including ourselves. Choose wisely, plant happiness wherever possible. Live in the moment, cherish the memories. They too will pass into the great abyss of time. We wish our readers a pleasant evening ahead, and safe travels to wherever their destination in life may lead them.
View from the plane heading from Phoenix into LAX earlier this month.
Resident Feline Correspondents Nano and Hope, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
We are continuing to enjoy the slower winter months, and a return to music. An appreciative listener in an airport recently asked me what I wanted most in 2018. I told him I would like the year to work for everyone, that World Peace would be a nice change from current events. He smiled and said, “Music is a part of that, and so are you.” I am humbled by those whose lives I have touched with my music, and who have touched mine in return.
I am also please to report Kate Wolf’sfamily has included the Keepsake CD on her Tributes page, a listing of those who have covered Kate’s songs. Kate passed from this world all too soon and left a legacy of beautiful, soulful music. Please visit her site to learn about this amazing singer-songwriter from California at https://www.katewolf.com
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! Do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time, now that the harvest season, and holiday season, has passed.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce:
Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
Our feature photo for this month is of a colony of what I believe is Usnea longissima, or Methuselah’s Beard Lichen, growing on an apple tree along with some Parmelia sulcata, or Hammered Shield Lichen. They are quite common here, and can be seen hanging about on many trees around the farm. When these lichens are swollen with rain in winter, distant heavily festooned deciduous trees appear to be clothed in light grey-green leaves, riding out winter alongside their dark green coniferous cousins.
Feature photo for December 2017, Methuselah’s Beard Lichen, growing on an apple tree along with some Parmelia sulcata, or Hammered Shield Lichen. Click on any photo in this post to enlarge.
News from the farm
The month of December passed quickly on our little farm in the Cascade foothills. The days have been a highly variable mix of cloud, rain and sun, warm to numbingly cold days and many nights below freezing.
Land of the Long Grey Cloud, a southern view from the farm on Christmas day. Many winter mornings begin this way.
Or begin this way, dawn’s colors reflected on the underside of morning clouds.
Or perhaps in misty pastel colors.
Or rose-colored contrails.
Old Man Winter established himself here early on, but seems to be currently occupied with the eastern regions of the country as they experience extremely cold and harsh conditions. By contrast, our weather here today in western Oregon was in the mid 50s, sunny and pleasant. We will enjoy his forgetfulness, while we can.
Christmas morning.
Fresh late-season apples were still clinging to trees in the early part of December, including a neighboring tree that has grown branches over the fenceline and over the roof of our shed.
The last hold outs, for birds only now. They were quite tasty and crisp earlier in the month.
The larger, hungry birds have since worked their way down the tree, drilling holes and slashing fruit with their beaks. They are welcome gleaners. Everyone must eat.
Daffodils in warmer areas with good southern exposure have already shaken off their slumber and begun the journey back up to the world of light. Many sport buds, which will remain tightly closed until mid to late January.
Daffodils coming up by the old garage amid purple columbine seedlings on Christmas day.
Wild garlic chives stand tall above winter’s green but slower growing grass. Pocket gophers tunnel everywhere, mounds piled up and plugged above the entrances. Life stirs below as well as above. I note where the tunnels are, and will collect their leavings for the gardens and barrel planters.
Gopher mounds amid the wild garlic chives.
As the afternoon comes to a close, a gibbous moon hangs in the eastern sky, white and marbled, like quartz tumbled by the sea. My mother called such treasures cast up by the waves moonstones, and I think of her when I see the moon, looming large over the horizon, ghostly pale against a fading blue sky. Another year has passed; I am another year older, acutely aware of my own time and its passage here. Mercury vapor and high pressure sodium barn and utility pole lights will soon glow like blue-green and orange stars on the surrounding hills as the sun dips below the horizon, and last light fades. The sky is mostly clear tonight, and will be down in the 20s by morning. A visit from Jack Frost and his silver brush is expected to close out the year.
We are thankful for all that we have, and enjoy life’s simple pleasures at this time of year.
An important and timely message for the world from the producers of these cheery and colorful crocus bulbs.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Correspondent Nano, ever watchful.
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano has observed much from his window this month, and has once again sent the photographer out to investigate. Without further ado, Mr. Nano will present his findings.
The winter solstice has passed, and slowly, imperceptibly, the days are lengthening. The foxes have continued to be sighted near the border of the hazelnut grove; their nightly vocalizations are muted by windows closed against the cold. Out in the grove itself, life stirs. A plump squirrel has taken up residence in the old ash tree, nest visible up high. He will need to exercise caution when foraging below; many would find him a good source of much needed calories at this time of year. In protected areas, the Lilliputian forests of ferns, mosses and lichens abound.
Ferns growing at the base of the old feral apple tree, one of the guardians of the tunnel to the back lot.
Mosses and lichens on a hazelnut tree.
Possible signs of nutria have been sighted in the form of small tunnels coming out of the underbrush leading to areas where the grass has been clipped short. We have noted that the last set of nutria that lived here liked to “farm” an area, keeping a patch of grass clipped short to provide tender growth for their dining pleasure. Fresh scat has not been found, however, or an actual nutria sighted this season. The presence of foxes about may have left them more wary.
A young blacktail doe, probably one of this year’s fawns, wandered through the orchard, casually nibbling grass. We found it surprising that they appear to urinate by squatting like a cat. The photographer was too slow at getting the camera to catch this in progress.
Pruning of the vineyards has commenced, as it does each December, beginning in the table grapes, and ending in the pinot noir vineyard behind the deer fencing.
Unpruned vine in the foreground. Vines pruned back to two canes in the row behind.
A venerable old table grape vine pruned back to two canes.
Cuttings have been made of the Glenora Black Seedless table grapes, and started in pots filled with gopher mound dirt. The pots will remain in the drainage area for now to keep them wet until bud break.
Glenora Black Seedless cuttings potted up for the winter.
December has been sunnier and drier than the previous year, leaving many days to observe clouds forming in the blue rivers of moisture above.
A view from the back lot looking west.
Multilevel cloud formations, all floating at their point of buoyant density.
Friends of the farm have sent us identification and propagation challenges. Anyone having experience propagating wild Columbia Lily from seed is encouraged to contact me. Columbia Lily is a native lily with a tall stalk, orange tiger lily like flowers, and seed pods similar to Columbine.
This photo was sent by a friend in Cornelius who lives in a house previously owned by an avid gardener, who may be deceased at this time and unavailable for questions. We believe this plant is in the mallow family. A positive ID is requested. Readers may click on the photo to enlarge.
A kind of mallow, perhaps?
Father Time continues his slow, steady tread into the coming year, taking us with him. We see the changes in the land, and feel the changes in ourselves. Everything is temporary, including ourselves. Choose wisely, plant happiness wherever possible. We wish all our readers a peaceful and bountiful year ahead.
Resident Feline Correspondent Nano, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Correspondent Nod, decided to have an eye to eye conversation with Rick regarding the vineyard.
Correspondent Blynken (left) and retired Correspondent Willow (right), warming themselves in the winter sun.
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I am enjoying the winter hours of slower days, long cool nights, and more time to spend on music. I completely burned out in 2015 during the last year Rick’s mother was alive and with us, trying to work part-time, play music and provide round the clock care, resulting in my taking 2016 off entirely to recover my health. This has been a year of slowly regaining my sea legs as a performer.
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! Do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time, now that the harvest season, and holiday season, has passed.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce:
Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
A primrose in winter, photo taken 12/30/2017. This plant was being thrown away, and found sitting out by a dumpster, sad and dehydrated. It was rescued and planted out front here at the farm. It has rewarded us with blooms for years, even in winter.
Our feature photothis month is from early morning on November 18th. A frosty 30 degrees greeted us at daybreak under mostly clear skies that day, dawn’s colors captured on the underside of the few clouds out and about at that hour.
Our feature photo. Dawn on November 18th, cold and colorful.
A lonely row of cotton candy pink altocumulus clouds was sighted in the west, perfectly aligned as if they were there solely to witness the arrival of the new day.
A row of little altocumulus clouds in the west, out observing the morning’s light show and beautifully reflecting dawn’s colors. Click on any photo in this post to enlarge.
Nature puts on a brief but intense show; the price of admission is free to those able and willing to attend.
Dawn’s saturated colors on November 7th.
November 7th. Roughly the same scene as the previous photo, a short time later. Color changes quickly.
News from the farm
The harvest is in; garden, orchard and vineyard finished for the season. A few late season apples still cling to trees, and are still quite good, enhanced by a little frost.
Early morning on November 4th, a view of the southeast hills framed by apple trees. The jagged line of conifers loom above the silver-grey mists in the low areas.
It has been a good year; I have been slowly able to do more. Two test fermentations of pinot noir rosé wine as well as two test runs of whole berry, stainless steel fermented pinot noir wine were made from grapes from our own vineyard, a tribute to the value of insect netting which not only keeps out birds, but also yellow jacket wasps. The quality of life here is measured in what we can eat and drink from what we produce, the natural beauty that surrounds us, and most importantly, the love of home, each other, and our animal companions. Life is not always easy, but it is good, and sustains us.
Rick and Lucio cat.
I look forward to the long dark of winter, though. Like the orchard and vineyard, I feel the need to slow down, to withdraw to my roots, and recover from the physiological debt of the year’s fast pace. It is a time for peace, a quieting of the mind so that creativity may flow again. A friend once described peace as “a place of one’s own to listen to the wind”. We know we are there when we arrive, but often lose the track to that elusive but vast internal space, the Outback of the Mind, where the wind tarries a while to speak of where it has been, and where it is going.
Mare’s tails, windswept cirrus clouds at dawn on November 19th.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano, always watchful!
Resident Feline Correspondent Miss Wynken, deliberating liberating Rick’s buckwheat pancakes. She insisted it would make a good report in the fine dining section. Rick thought otherwise, and Mr. Nano agreed.
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano has contacted the Sicilian Feline Correspondents Deskfor a report on the olive harvest at the House of 40 Paws. Without further do, Mr. Nano will turn this section of the newsletter over to Sicilian Feline Correspondent Luckyof the House of 40 Paws.
A venerable old olive tree at The House of 40 Paws olive farm, Sicily. Photo credit M.G.
The weather here in Sicily has been exceptional, with temperatures in the low 60s, perfect for olive harvesting. Rain occurring a few days before the scheduled harvest date threatened to take us off schedule, but the reappearance of sun dried trees and olives sufficiently enough to make the harvest possible.
A view of the countryside from The House of 40 Paws. Photo credit M.G.
I attempted to recruit our other correspondents to help with the harvest. We are seven in total, and many paws can make quick work. This proved to be an exercise in herding cats.
The Sicilian Feline Correspondents Desk. Photo credit M.G.
Correspondent Simona was missing from the initial meeting, leaving Dexter to try to convince her that harvesting olives would be in her best interest.
Photo credit M.G.
Only Dexter and YouTube showed up to listen to the requirements of olive harvesting. NewDude remained on the terrace, keeping a safe distance from any work.
Photo credit M.G.
Another correspondent, Lulu, decided staying home and enjoying pizza was much more to his liking.
Photo credit M.G.
Ranger finally convinced YouTube that laying in the sun on the terrace would be more far more exciting than working,
Photo credit M.G.
and were soon joined by correspondents NewDude and Dexter.
Photo credit M.G.
Although I am blind, I was the only correspondent still willing and available to climb trees and assist.
Correspondent Lucky, who is blind but not disabled! Photo credit M.G.
It took four people 40 work hours to harvest all forty of the trees. As the trees were raked, the olives cascaded on to the waiting nets below.
Worker at the House of 40 Paws olive farm, harvesting olives with a rake. Photo credit M.G.
The olives are then gathered up and placed into totes, loaded onto the tractor and hauled to a waiting vehicle. The Almond Brothers, correspondents NewDude and YouTube, were found basking on the car, waiting to help load olives.
Photo credit M.G.
Photo credit M.G.
Olives were safely delivered to the the olive milling plant, or Oleficio, for processing. They are transferred into large totes, weighed and then emptied onto a grate to eliminate some of the leaves. From there, they travel up the conveyor belt for the first step, which is to clean the olives by removing stems, leaves, debris and dirt.
Photo credit M.G.
Photo credit M.G.
Olives are ground and then go into a horizontal trough with spiral mixing blades where they remain for about 45 minutes.
Photo credit M.G.
The paste then passes through a traditional centrifuge, which is a three phase process. Olive paste is spun in a horizontal drum; the heavier flesh and pits go to the outside, while water and oil are tapped off separately from the center.
Photo credit M.G.
We started with 7.8 quintale of olives, or 780 kilos, (1,716 lbs) and came home with 140 liters of fresh oil, a good harvest in spite of not having all our feline workers available. They are strongly encouraged to participate next year. Their help will be most welcome.
Correspondent Lucky resting after a hard day of harvesting olives. Photo credit M.G
Sicilian Feline Correspondent Lucky, reporting from The House of 40 Paws.
Thank you, Correspondent Lucky!
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
Saddle up a trusty vehicle, head up over the Cascades and on to the gorge where the olive-brown velvety hills of Washington come down to drink from the mighty Columbia River on sculpted lion’s paws. Head across the river, through eastern Washington and on to Spokane. This was my first year back at the Spokane Fall Folk Festival since 2011, having taken on elder care, and then recovery from elder care during the intervening years. I completely burned out in 2015 during the last year Rick’s mother was alive and with us, trying to work part-time, play music and provide round the clock care, resulting in my taking 2016 off entirely to recover my health. This has been a year of slowly regaining my sea legs as a performer.
View from the top of the Cascade pass. Snow!
Mount Washington at the left.
Looking back at The Three Sisters mountains.
Breakfast at the Black Bear Diner.
I took no pictures from the festival itself, as I forgot to bring the camera along to the community college where it was held.
Closer to the river on the return trip. The hills of Washington look like olive-brown velvet lion’s paws from across the river.
Another view of the Columbia taken from the car.
The patterns in the rock wall face are quite impressive.
A rainbow greeted us when we returned home.
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! Do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time, now that the harvest season has passed.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce: Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
Our feature photo this month is of a colorful cluster of hawthorn berries sporting a tiny visitor, a 12 spotted cucumber beetle. In past years, we rarely encountered any. This year, we have seen quite a few of these little fellows, although we do not seem to have sustained any damage from their presence other than occasional photobombing. One can click on any photo in this post to enlarge.
Our feature photo. The 12 spotted cucumber beetle, the yellow fellow with black spots on the right edge of this cluster of hawthorn berries, has been found in larger numbers on the farm this year.
News from the library – a special book by Cynthia Reyes for children of all ages
I do not consider myself to be a reviewer of books or music, feeling neither qualified nor inclined to critique someone else’s work. I find enough technical problems with my own endeavors to keep me sufficiently occupied pursuing a lifetime of improvement. A very special book, however, has caught my attention, not only because it is well-written and beautifully illustrated, but because it sends a simple yet powerful message of the need for tolerance. That book is Myrtle the Purple Turtle, a children’s book written by Cynthia Reyes, blogger, author, and former journalist and executive producer with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.
The story of Myrtle was originally written as a bedtime story for Cynthia’s daughter Lauren, who had been bullied at school for bringing her favorite doll, a black Cabbage Patch doll named Quentin. Some of the children thought Quentin was “dirty” because of his color, and wouldn’t play with her if she brought him along. As a consequence, the four year old stopped bringing him to school, hoping to fit in better, although it hurt her very, very much. Eventually, her parents caught on, and Cynthia developed the story of Myrtle, a different sort of turtle, to help Lauren feel less alone. Myrtle attempts to change her appearance to make her more acceptable, but learns in the end that is our differences that make us special, and that we must love ourselves. A book for children of all ages, and dedicated to the child in all of us, I encourage readers to help spread the word about this very special turtle. Donate a copy to your local library; give one to a child in need. We are all Myrtle the Purple Turtle.
October’s weather was relatively mild, with sufficient rain to return the grass to its winter seasonal lush emerald green. Our chives have revived in the cooler, wetter conditions, while dandelions once again stand tall, proudly present their sunshine-yellow blooms to late season visiting bees. Tiny leaflets of clover have started to appear everywhere, adding to the carpet of green below as the leaves of tree and shrub above turn shades of yellow and brown, quietly slipping away with the daylight hours. Blueberry bushes are among the exceptions to the muted colors of autumn in this region, celebrating the end of their season in a blaze of scarlet, orange and gold.
A fiery blueberry bush against the green carpet of grass and clover below.
A blueberry bush on the lighter hued side.
The annual rutting season has arrived along with October’s bright blue skies and falling leaves. Once again, roving male deer have started looking for small trees and shrubbery upon which to scrape the velvet from their antlers. It is the one aspect of autumn which I dread, but I am also thankful that we have only had deer, not elk, wander through this farm. Our larger blueberry bushes suffered some damage a few nights ago. Not having fencing up yet, I resorted to taking the old wire basket tomato cages and put them upside down, points up, near targeted bushes, in the hope of discouraging them. Broken branches, lying like matchwood on the ground, were collected to make cuttings for rooting. Our visitors also tested the line of young redwoods up front, requiring installation of emergency, makeshift barricades. Nature’s children are always hungry, or creating mischief.
A sunflower in the main garden, early October. This particular one somehow started to grow with roots in the air as it emerged from its shell. I turned it around in its pot, coddled it, and transplanted it to the main garden when it was ready. This sunflower has rewarded us with a beautiful bloom and has attracted many bees.
The garden has worked hard and done well this season, resting now except for a few cool weather crops such as broccoli, celery and cabbage. It is difficult to bid goodbye to each year’s plantings when autumn returns; all have been nurtured from seed to garden bed, and are now returning to the earth which sustained them, as they sustained us. All things are connected to all things.
Broccoli, variety “Green Goliath”, lived up to its name.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano, always watchful.
Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano has observed much from his window this month, and has once again sent the photographer out to investigate. Without further ado, Mr. Nano will present his findings, including the state of the current vintage and wine experiments.
The nights have continued to grow longer since the equinox, allowing more viewing time from the windows under clear skies when the moon is in the brightest part of its phase. The foxes have continued to leave scat around the farm, although they have been quieter about their comings and goings. Our visiting pack of coyotes has not been heard again since last month, their lyrical chorus eerily beautiful yet frightening to felines. Sunrise brings all the beauty and promise of a new day.
Sunrise on October 15th. The dark, lacy silhouettes of trees, mists and fleeting colors set upon morning’s early blue canvas of sky are always worth getting up early to see. Sunrise arrives late enough at this time of year that these scenes are much easier to catch.
A few interesting shoots were found growing out of a hawthorn stump. The young tree broke off in a windstorm last year, effectively becoming a coppice stool. Some of these new shoots had leaves with no pigment. Development will be followed.
Hawthorn stump sporting some shoots with no leaf pigment.
Our wasps in the blueberry bush remained with us for a while in early October, but have since disappeared.
The wasps remained at the site of their old nest long after the paper nest mysteriously disappeared.
The good weather held early in the month, and the onslaught of grape-eating birds and wasps had not descended yet. A decision was made to run another crush from the pinot vineyard with grapes that were now up to 22 brix. Four trays of the ripest pinot noir were selected and harvested, crushed by hand, and fermentation with Epernay II started in a 16 qt stainless steel stockpot, as was done in the previous run. Fewer earwigs, and no stinkbugs or ladybugs were encountered in this run.
Hand-crushing pinot noir grapes, and checking for earwigs and other non-grape entities . Primitive methods, but the results were worth the effort. Photo credit Rick Ross.
Another light pinot rosé was created from this fermentation, coming in at 12% alcohol with riper grapes. The wine is still cold stabilizing on the lees at this time.
The first fermentation experiment has since been racked off into bottles, and stored in the refrigerator. There has been no fining, filtering or sulfiting of this wine, so it is being stored cold.
The lees, or sludge comprised of dead yeast cells and other solids that settled to the bottom during cold stabilization. Finished wine was ladled off into jars. Any remaining lees will settle there over time, and wine decanted.
Finished wine from left to right. The wines in bottle at the right were taken near the bottom of the pot, and the lees will have to settle again before decanting off the wine.
Rick, our Quality Control man, comparing the results of the second fermentation (left glass) with the first fermentation (right glass) as he has lunch. Both have passed inspection.
The rest of the fruit from under the insect netting was harvested yesterday, and is being held for a third experiment.
It is hard to smile while searching for earwigs. Photo credit Rick Ross.
Like all the residents and wild creatures of this farm, I hear the approaching winter in the wind as it rustles the dying leaves, and in the gentle staccato of rain on the metal roof. One can feel it in the nip in the air on a sunny day, especially when the sun slips behind a wandering cumulus. Another year is soon ending, and I and my fellow correspondents are a year older. We hear the slow, steady tread of Father Time, and feel the changes.
Correspondent Willow has retired from filing reports, and prefers to spend her days napping on her bed by the kitchen window. We are not quite sure of her age, but think she is over 20 years old now. She was found in our yard, almost dead, a little over 5 years ago. She recovered, and has been with us ever since.
We wish our readers a pleasant evening ahead. May everyone have a warm place to sleep, and plenty of good food.
Resident Feline Correspondent Nano, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Thank you, Mr. Nano!
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I will be returning to the Spokane Fall Folk Festival this November after being away for a number of years due to elder care duties. See our post In Loving Memory, December 2015. I took 2016 off from performing to recover my health and recharge, and I am looking forward to seeing friends old and new.
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! I have received a request for a video of “Believe in Tomorrow” from the Keepsake CD, so that task is still in my work queue, which gets longer and harder to keep up with all the seasonal outside work. I have no new videos yet due to all the activity here, but do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time, now that the harvest season has passed.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce: Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
Our feature photo for September, 2017 is of a gladiola that came up in the cherry tree garden planted for our Belgian friend Herman to remember his mother, brother, sister and cats Glippe and Mrs. Jones. The old cherry tree, a black tartarian, produced buckets of delicious soft, dark fruit in early summer. This garden was full of cheery daffodils this spring, and irises and daylilies later on before the real heat was upon us. I particularly loved this late season swath of color against the grey, lenticeled bark of the tree. The green swords provided visual relief to the dormant grasses beyond, burned and dried under summer’s relentless sun to a tan-white, crunching underfoot.
Herman’s cherry tree garden. Herman and my favorite British Shorthair cat, Mr. Bowie, can be found at https://hopedog.wordpress.com/
With many days in the 90s and 100s and little to no rain, this summer has been a particularly brutal one for keeping plantings alive while conserving water, and our well pump, as much as possible. Rooted in place, trees and garden residents wait patiently during the dry season for the return of rain in autumn.
News from the farm
Early September found us still engulfed in heat and drought amid the dragon’s breath of heavy smoke from forest fires around the region, with no rain in sight. Late summer is a difficult seasonal period to work through; air quality tends to be poor; eyes itch and burn and the lungs feel congested. Endless spot-watering and resuscitation of plantings wear one down as much as the heat and smoke.
The evening of September 3, 2017, southeastern view. We heard much of our smoke this year was from the Sisters, Brookings and Cascade Locks fires, which sent considerable smoke down the valley.
The morning of September 4, 2017, eastern view.
As the nights grow longer, Autumn finally arrives, cloaked in morning mists which form, settle in, then rise with the sun, eventually becoming part of the wandering herds of clouds passing through during the day. Dawn’s quickly changing colors and veiled scenes are among Nature’s finest displays of her art. In the geologic bowl where this farm resides, silver-grey mists condense and stratify as the light grows, showing only the jagged peaks of conifers on the surrounding hills. The first rays of sunlight are an alchemist’s dream, turning silver into gold; I quietly observe the transformation in awe. As the sun continues to climb, colors fade; the now bright white veil thins and rises, revealing the land below. Another day begins.
This particular scene is from November 2013, but shows a lovely golden mist in progress.
The season continues to unfold. Heavier, brooding clouds are seen more frequently; the first rain brings the welcome odor of petrichor. It is only enough precipitation to settle the dust and clear residual smoke, but not enough to quench the thirst of the land for water. Clouds, each floating at their point of buoyant density, give a textural feeling of depth to the wild sky, revealing dark caverns, canyons and sinkholes.
The eastern sky on September18th.
Sunrises show promise of saturated dawn colors and colorful cloud formations as equinox approaches. A few fractures in the cloud cover after sundown glow like rose-colored embers of the dying day.
Sunset, eastern view, on September 17th. The last long rays of sun reflected off of clouds to the east. I don’t take many sundown photos from a western view until winter, when the sun sets far enough south that I can avoid power lines and utility poles in the photos.
The days come and go along with the moon and the equinox. The pleasant staccato of rain on the metal roof signals a more significant storm in progress. Multiple passing storms drench the farm with life-giving moisture and warm sun, followed by rainbows. An EF0 tornado touched down early one morning in a town not far from here, severely damaging one dairy. Fortunately, none of the cows were harmed, not being in the barn at the time. The pleasant staccato took on the sound of machine gun fire as the winds and rain from this storm reached us. We suffered no damage here, but were reminded we are continually at the mercy of Nature. There will be good years, and bad.
The cycle continues. The moon returns, a beautiful half moon up there hanging pale gold above the trees on clearer nights. In the west, clouds form like curds out of the moisture laden air. Food from our own garden is on the table, and it is warm inside.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Correspondent Nano, ever watchful.
Correspondent Nano has observed much from his window this month, and has sent the photographer out to investigate. Without further ado, Mr. Nano will present his findings, including the state of the current vintage.
As the days grow shorter, the sounds, scents and scenes of late summer and early autumn catch my attention. The symphony of late season stridulators perform as the afternoon fades, the temperature drops and the night comes into its own. In the distance, the unusual growly barking of the grey foxes can be heard. The foxes, of which there were five at last count, have been observed eating grapes from the vineyard, and leaving scat filled with grape pips about the farm.
Non-netted table grapes showing fox, bird, wasp and bee damage. Stripped clean!
Resident grey fox, photo taken earlier this summer. They are now eating grapes along with wasps, bees and birds, although few larger birds have been seen this year except for quail.
A chorus of coyotes began to crescendo under the window in the early hours one morning. Eerie yet beautiful, these songs also strike fear into the heart of any sensible feline.
California quail with their musical liquid calls have returned to the farm, but curiously, we have seen very few larger birds such as jays, starlings, robins and flickers. These species usually begin the raids on the vineyard and orchard.
The changing weather affected two other species we have been watching. The paper wasps that built their nest in the blueberry bush lost their nest after a wind and rainstorm. Survivors have continued to remain at the old nest site, huddling and possibly feeding on shriveling blueberries. Readers may review their story on our previous posts for July and August.
The wasps as of this morning. There has been no nest for some weeks now,although they remain at the site.
The garden spider continued to remain in her hunting hideout amid the cornstalks for some time, taking shelter under corn leaves during storms. She was not found this morning.
Our resident Argiope aurantia, on September 18th. A tiny fly was caught in her web, left and above her leg.
The garden is still producing; some plants winding down, some in full swing.
Last of the summer beans. This variety of stringbean is called Black Creaseback. The mature beans inside the pods are black. The seeds were kindly sent to us by a friend back east. The plants are shutting down now, although there are still some flowers and some developing beans.
On September 23rd, the decision was made to start a 4 gallon test batch of wine, as the non-netted grapes were showing signs of predation. Four trays of the ripest pinot noir were selected and harvested, crushed by hand, and fermentation with Epernay II started in a 16 qt stainless steel stockpot, as was done the previous year. The brix level was roughly 18% as they were not fully ripe. The vintners hope for a light pinot rosé from this run, which was named “Wigadoon” for all the resident earwigs that were evicted before and during processing. Numerous ladybugs and stink bugs were also removed. These are normal residents found in grapes, and another reason why the vintner likes to hand process. Another test will take place in early October, when the grapes should be a bit riper, weather permitting.
Pinot noir, reading for crushing.
Four trays hand processes enough juice for about 4 gallons.
Resident Feline Correspondent Nano, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Thank you, Mr. Nano!
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I will be returning to the Spokane Fall Folk Festival this November after being away for a number of years due to elder care duties. See our post In Loving Memory, December 2015. I took 2016 off from performing to recover my health and recharge, and I am looking forward to seeing friends old and new.
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! I have received a request for a video of “Believe in Tomorrow” from the Keepsake CD, so that task is still in my work queue, which gets longer and harder to keep up with in summer. I have no new videos this summer due to all the activity here, but do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time, once the harvest season has passed.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce: Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
A cheerful sunflower growing in front of the well house, wishing readers a pleasant evening. Deer had initially bitten off the center bud. This flower grew from a side shoot which formed after the terminal bud was ingested. Perseverance in the face of roaming cervids is an admirable trait.
Readers may click on any photo in this post to enlarge. Our feature photothis month is of what we believe is a fine specimen of the orb weaver spider clan, Argiope aurantia, commonly found hanging about gardens throughout North America.
With luck, someday this autumn I may catch her tending her web, freshly festooned with the night’s dew. It has been too hot and dry lately to see these arachnid silk Brigadoons. Damp, sunlit mornings can sometimes reveal an entire dazzling city of webs, which fades into invisibility in the heat of the day.
News from the farm
August brings day after day of heat and drought; temperatures in the 90s and 100s are common, with few interludes of coolness. Large farms, such as grass seed growers, have harvested their crops, tilled and pulverized the soil with impressively large machines. Dust devils, heat-spawned vortices known by different names around the world and thought to be the spirits of the dead in some cultures, spin lazily across the broad, barren farmlands, carrying the fertile soil of Oregon skyward until the bright blue above is stained with a tan haze. Smoke from forest fires around the region contributes a grey hue to the canvas; the sun and moon rise in bloody orange colors against a murky, alien sky.
Early morning on August 22nd.
And the morning of August 28th. Fortunately, most of the smoke from fires has cleared at this time.
Stratified smoke and morning mists on August 22nd.
As occurs with most things in life, beauty and goodness come packaged along with assorted trials tribulations; August was no exception. We were fortunate to have clear conditions on the day of the eclipse, and were in the path of totality. Witness to the changing light and temperature, the emergence of stars mid morning accompanied by the blazing wedding ring in the heavens, we count ourselves among the blessed to have attended this once in a lifetime event.
The smoky pall that periodically engulfed us, and was driven aways by the winds during the month, did serve to mitigate temperatures slightly. The roses, which ceased blooming during the earlier summer heat, have reawakened. A close inspection of the blooms often reveals a visitor, in this instance, a 12 Spot Cucumber Beetle. Although we normally do not see many of these beetles here, there appear to be more of them about this year.
Our paper wasps featured in our July 2017 newsletter. Photo taken July 16th.
This photo was taken August 8th. One can see that chambers have been capped off and brood is developing. The wreath of blueberries around their nest is shriveling.
The same paper wasp nest on August 29th. Young have hatched. They have survived the worst of the summer heat and drought. The blueberry wreath continues to shrivel, and the bush itself is showing signs of late summer heat stress.
Other visitors have come through, including skunks, much more pleasant seen than smelled, to the mischievous ones, some leaving paw prints on the patio and damaged bird netting from attempted grape filching. Raccoons are the prime suspects, breaking clips and ripping holes in bird netting. They have hit our farm before, and will again. They too, enjoy the season’s bounty of fruits and vegetables.
Muddy footprints left behind after a night of overturning flower pots and general mayhem on the porch. Raccoon or skunk? The odor of skunk was very strong in the general area when the tracks were noted.
Visitors from past years consenting to be photographed included skunks and nutria. Stinklesby, was a resident skunk for one summer.
“YOUR grapes? I thought these were MY grapes!!!!” Stinklesby was a resident for one summer, but met an untimely demise in the road.
“Visiting” nutria from late 2015 though spring 2016. They pulled the white tags out of the pots of grape starts. Yosemite Sam posing for the camera.
Rick and I have been hard at work, tending vines and gardens. Spot watering plantings to conserve water becomes a labor-intensive undertaking at this time of year, when temperatures soar into the 90s and 100s, and little to no rain falls. The heavy, clay soil bakes brick-hard and fissures like wounds in the earth. Even gophers do not enjoy tunneling, preferring to dig in areas that were just watered. Once verdant fields wither under relentless heat and summer sun, turning brown, then progressing into light tan to almost white, crumpled skeletons of vegetation; the grass crunches underfoot in the annual cycle of growth, drought and dormancy.
Rick, spot watering in one of the tomato beds.
Rick working the table grapes.
Cascade table grapes behind bird netting.
A test row of Early Muscat and Gewurztraminer wine grapes under insect netting we are trying out. Hopefully this will help keep out wasps and bees, who also like the sugary, moisture laden fruit.
Rick working in the main block of pinot noir. We will be selecting two of the best rows to test out insect netting.
Ripening pinot noir on Salmon Brook Farms.
Several rows of of the best of our pinot noir will go under insect netting soon. We will be attempting to make a test batch of wine from our own pinot noir this season using Epernay II yeast. Last year, the birds, bees and wasps managed to clean us out, and I was left with Cascade table grapes for testing, with promising results.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Correspondent Nano, ever watchful.
Mr. Nano at the Salmon Brook Farms Feline Correspondents Desk received the sad news this month of the passing of Northeast Regional Feline Correspondent Otis. Mr. Nano, with the help of Otis’ family, has written a eulogy.
Mr. Otis, Northeast Regional Feline Correspondent, has passed away peacefully at his home in Connecticut. He will be missed by all. Photo credit C.M.
There comes a time when the body is too worn and tired to continue, and the spirit longs for freedom from it. Mr. Otis passed away peacefully at home on August 22, 2017 after a long battle with old age and kidney disease. A true journalist, he worked right up until the end, investigating everything that happened on his farm. No news escaped his keen vision and nose, and he often listened in on conversations in the garage, no matter what the weather, whenever there was a gathering of men over beer and assorted snacks. He is survived by his companions Izzy, Rosie and Sadie, and his humans Rob & Carolyn.
We celebrate Otis’ life and legacy. He is now a part of the history and legends of the farm he called home, woven into the tapestry of the lives of all those who loved him. Friends for a short time, but remembered for a lifetime. We are all made of stardust, and to the stars we all ultimately return. The memories of those who have left us travel on starlight, to be heard on the wind as it whispers in the pines, and seen in the moon’s soft ghostly glow.
Otis, collecting news at a gathering of family and friends in February, 2016.
Otis, basking by the wood stove.
The Northeast Regional Feline Correspondents Desk HQ, February 2016.
Otis has taken over the dog bed. Photo credit C.M.
Otis, keeping an eye out for news from the hayloft. Photo credit C.M.
Otis, after a hard day of work. Photo credit R.M.
Otis curled up in his basket by the wood stove. Photo credit C.M.
Otis relaxing his his basket.
Otis relaxing on his porch. Photo credit C.M.
Mr. Otis’ family also sent the following for the readers of this newsletter.
“For the rest of my life I will search for moments full of you.” -Anonymous
“May you have safe travels over Rainbow’s Bridge, Otis, and may you be greeted by all the other Hope Valley loves that have crossed it before you. We will miss you dearly, but we know you are in a better place. So, until we meet again, much love and peace to you, dear friend. “
Goodbye Otis, my friend, my colleague.
– Mr. Nano, Resident Feline Correspondent, reporting for Salmon Brook Farms
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
I will be returning to the Spokane Fall Folk Festival this November after being away for a number of years due to elder care duties. See our post In Loving Memory, December 2015. I took 2016 off from performing to recover my health and recharge, and I am looking forward to seeing friends old and new.
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! I have received a request for a video of “Believe in Tomorrow” from the Keepsake CD, so that task is still in my work queue, which gets longer and harder to keep up with in summer. I have no new videos this summer due to all the activity here, but do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time, once the harvest season has passed.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce: Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
An April sunrise, spring being one of my favorite times to catch sunrise. The position on the hill where the sun rises over the farm, and the morning cloud conditions offer some beautifully saturated colors and skyscapes. The promise of a new day, a new page upon which to write the story of our lives.
Readers may click on any photo in this post to enlarge. Our feature photo for July is of some resident paper wasps found nesting in one of the blueberry bushes this month. We are not sure if they are native paper wasps, or European paper wasps in the genus Polistes. The legs tend to dangle below them in flight. Both types prey on insects.
Paper nest building wasps have built a home in a blueberry bush.
I almost put my hand in their nest by accident while berry picking. Fortunately for me, these paper nest building wasps were relatively non-aggressive, only flying out to investigate who was disturbing them, returning to nest sitting once they were satisfied I was no serious threat. Satisfied in turn that they were no serious threat to me, I have been picking that bush right up to the immediate vicinity of their nest since then, and have enjoyed observing them. The paper nest, being situated where it is at the top of the blueberry bush, has no real protection from relentless sun, or the autumn rains when they come. In this case, they have selected a doomed building site. I will not disturb these industrious wasps that feed on other insects, and continue to work around them this season. Unfortunately, their ground nesting relatives the yellow jackets in the genus Vespulaor Dolichovespula, tend to be highly aggressive, swarming and stinging without what we humans feel is sufficient provocation; we usually have to eradicate at least one nest, generally found by accident during the season, only because they present a real physical danger.
News from the farm
Among the many visitors to the farm this month were the gray foxes. Rick came out with binoculars early one evening, indicating he had seen four of them cavorting on a pile of grass clippings out back. There were only two by the time I had a look, and I was fortunate enough to get a couple of quick photos before they disappeared. According to ODFW, there are three species of foxes in Oregon: the Common Gray FoxUrocyon cinereoargenteus, the Red FoxVulpes vulpes, and the Kit Fox, Vulpes velox. Our visitors, as best as I can tell, were gray foxes.
A curious fellow wanting to know why I was interested in him. 3x telephoto is the maximum this old Sony camera can do.
He proceeded towards the woods, but stopped to have a look.
Same fox, doubled back for another look. Click on any photo in this blog to enlarge.
Having been spared continual excessive heat earlier this season, we have now entered the time of heat and seasonal drought here in western Oregon. As the chapter for this July comes to a close with temperatures in the mid 90s, August will make her debut with 100+ degree temperatures for several days. The hillsides have appropriately transitioned from emerald green to a more seasonal dress of toasted gold as grass withers and goes dormant. Deer will grow bolder, coming closer to the house, looking for any green shoots they can nip. Every creature will be looking for shelter from the relentless heat, adequate food, and whatever source of water or moisture they can find. I find myself becoming more of a crepuscular creature at this time of year, preferring to be active in early morning and late evening. Tree, shrub, vine and plant life in general are not so fortunate. Stoic beings rooted in place, they bear the sun’s searing heat in silence, waiting for rain, or a kindly drink from a watering can or soaker hose.
A golden gladiola in Elbert’s Garden at the end of the day. The garden bed this gladiola graces along the side of the greenhouse was planted for Elbert. It has grown to include others now as well. It is the gift of the living to those left behind, sometimes the only meaningful kind thing I can do. See https://phainopepla95.com/2016/04/19/post-1013-passing-of-a-friend/
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
There was some confusion among the correspondents this month as to whose report for July was being filed for publication, and was complicated by the photographer forgetting to pack a camera along on a recent trip to the northern California coast. Mr. Nano has decided to file a quick report on an unusual skull found in a garden bed next to the garage.
Correspondent Nano
A small white object lying in the mulch amid withered daffodil leaves drew attention to itself. It could not have been there long, yet did not seem to be too recent. Mostly clean and still bone white, no other bones were found along beside it to aid in identification. The cavity where the brain once resided and directed the body’s activities seemed relatively large, the upper jaw long and narrow with many sharp teeth. Any information leading to the identification of the specimen would be greatly appreciated.
Alas poor Yorick, although I did not know him at all. Young possum, perhaps?
Yorick skull bottom view, showing teeth.
Top view of skull.
We wish our readers a pleasant day and evening ahead, wherever you may be.
– Resident Feline Correspondent Mr. Nano
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! I have received a request for a video of “Believe in Tomorrow” from the Keepsake CD, so that task is still in my work queue, which gets longer and harder to keep up with in summer. The days disappear all too quickly, and Rick and I managed to get in a three day vacation to go down to Arcata, California to see Jennings & Keller in concert, with the help of Lyn, who took care of the cats and the farm while we were away. I have no new videos for July as promised due to all the activity here, but do keep an eye on more content appearing from time to time.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce: Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
Readers may click on any photo in this post to enlarge. Our feature photo for June is one of our fine roses that came into bloom this month. Originally planted by the previous owner, this one and its many friends survived being dug up and replanted when the house was rebuilt 5 years ago. I am forever grateful to the help we received from our friend Lyn in digging up all these thorny beauties and boxing them up until they could be replanted.
This lightly scented beauty begins life a creamy pink, and turns almost white as the blooms age.
Tough girls, they survived hot weather in pots and cardboard boxes covered with a minimal amount of dirt and infrequent watering. Only one of the group has died back over the years, leaving just the rootstock to regrow and bloom. The surviving rootstock we believe is an example of one called Dr. Huey.
Dr. Huey, I presume. The photo is from a previous year when the graft (pinkish bloom upper right) was still living and blooming. The Dr. Huey rootstock has taken over with masses of red blooms.
Tim & Laurie Price have some lovely photos of their Dr. Huey and other photos from the Corrales Rose Society annual Dr. Huey tours on their site.
Susan B. Graham is a rose photography judge and avid gardener. Please visit her sites as well for many outstanding photos, including the famous Dr. Huey rose.
Sundown here at Salmon Brook Farms, view to the southeast.
The troubled weather that came riding in with Spring is transitioning peacefully as Summer asserts her time and place on our little farm in the Cascade foothills. Our first of the month arrived in a shroud of light drizzle and temperatures in the mid 50s, and ended that evening in the 70s watching the molten colors of sunset from a nearby mountain top, deep in conversation with friends. June has come and gone quickly, mostly filled with snapshots in time of things I have seen, to be replayed in mind’s eye at later times. I was struck by a quotation I recently saw on Baz & Janet’sXploresite. Avid travelers and explorers from Australia, they were visiting Merlin’s Cave, Tintatgel, Cornwall.
“Spend time not pondering what you see, but why you see it…”
The blooms of the black locust scented the air in early June, attracting bees and admiring humans.
The creamy white, heavily scented blooms of the black locust tree have come and gone along with the irises, succeeded by other species now heavily in bloom. Roses wave and dance, colorful skirts swirling on the breeze, while the orange trumpets of daylilies continue to make a joyful nose of color, accompanied by the butterfly bush which has now joined the symphony.
Make a joyful noise! A bed of orange daylily trumpets at sundown last night. The purple butterfly bush in the background has joined in celebration.
A colorful dancer, she can be seen whirling and waving at the sky on breezy days.
A contemplative member of the garden who has seen several locations, and is much happier now. Planted in memory of my own mother, variety John Paul.
I recall one clear blue, cloudless sky morning earlier in the month; the waning crescent moon was still overhead, white and marbled with light grey like quartz tumbled by the sea. There was little to no traffic on the road, being an early Sunday morning. It was pleasantly quiet; the land was still and the wind chimes silent.
A few days in the 90s caught my attention. The wind was continually restless and warm, and contained much energy; I could see cumulus piling up over the Cascades. The sky continued to marble with thin, high cirrus clouds, later on boiling with heavy, rolling clouds and widening chasms where one could see to upper levels and bright filtered light. That night, flashes of light over the mountains glowed on the underside of clouds as a storm brewed to the southeast.
Some of June’s many colorful clouds. An eastern view at sunset as the last rays of the sun reflected off the bottom of our aerial wanderers as they crossed over the Cascades.
A few morning cumulus and altocumulus reflected the peach and rose colors of dawn, and at least two clouds were presenting themselves as a colorful example of virga, rain observed to fall from a cloud and evaporate well above the ground.
Clouds in shades of lavender, white hot peach and rose painted in bold strokes against a deepening blue. A pleasant breeze came up after sundown that evening as the land cooled off. Movement over by the back north border head caught my eye. A brushy-tailed grey fox came down from the neighbor’s field across our back lot and into our patch of woods; a handsome little fellow in search of food. I recall Rick saying he had seen a fox a few nights prior to my sighting, but he indicated he had seen a red fox. I saw the grey fox on the border of the hazelnut grove another evening; he watched me intently as I closed the gate and shut off the water. I was probably within 100 feet of him.
Sundown, northwest view.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Mr. Nano has been occupied with important duties this month, so he has assigned Mr. Marcus and Mr. Luciothe task of filing the June report. The farm photographer was sent out to provide documentation on activities they have seen.
Mr. Nano has been very busy this month.
Without further ado, Mr. Nano presents Resident Feline Correspondents Marcus and Lucio, and their report for June, 2017.
Mr. Marcus (left), Mr. Lucio (right). Time to wake up and get to work!
We have observed the transition in the weather from cool and wet to drier and sunnier. The mornings are still deliciously cool and pleasant, and often accompanied by the missives of small birds outside the office window as they cling to strong-stemmed plants and eat the seeds from neighboring dandelions. We have noted with alarm the distinct drop off in the number of bees, especially honeybees, this spring, which we attribute to wetter and cooler than usual weather. Although there is much clover growing amid the grassy areas, few honeybees have been sighted feeding on it.
The vineyards and garden are now receiving much attention as the season progresses. Tomatoes, corn, peppers and a few eggplants starts have already gone in, soon to be followed by squash, cucumbers, red cabbage and broccoli this weekend.
Rick carefully tending a pepper plant start.
Placing a cage around the pepper plant to support it as it grows.
The table grapes and pinot noir produced many flowering clusters, and barring hail or other calamities, should produce a good crop, and perhaps some good wine, this autumn.
Cascade table grapes in progress!
Pinot noir wine grapes in progress!
Flowers continue to bloom in succession, both domestic and wild, presenting a visual feast from any window. The heirloom roses on the north border provide a riot of color in June. They bloom but once a season, unlike our other roses.
The Shogun tiger lily collection, safely growing in a barrel planter away from tunneling gophers.
Colorful purple spires of the butterfly bush at sundown, growing crescent of the moon just off to the right.
Wildflowers in the meadow. Perhaps Clare from “A Suffolk Lane” would know what they are?
Heirloom roses on the north border, growing wild and carefree.
Cherries are now coming into season, along with blueberries, native trailing blackberries, strawberries and raspberries, providing delicious, healthy deserts.
Non-native blackberry in bloom will provide much needed nectar for bees, good eating later on for us. Wild blackberry provides the main honey flow in June for the Willamette Valley. There are far more of these about the farm than the native trailing blackberry which has ripe fruit now. We keep it in check as best we can. These plants can throw 20 foot, very thorny canes.
The black tartarian cherries, soft and very sweet, will become inky purple when ripe. There are also bing cherries here, as well as many wild cherries about.
A favorite image from back in the old house. our own roses and fruit. Wine is from Sauternes.
We would like to end this report with Michael’s Tree. Planted in honor of GP Cox’s son Michael, USMC. GP runs the site Pacific Paratrooper, dedicated to Pacific War era information.
Michael’s tree at sundown. This redwood will grow tall and strong, providing shade and shelter. It will outlive us. It has already put on much new growth this spring.
Birds overseeing the photography at sundown. We believe these are the ones that were nesting in the eves of the old garage.
We wish our readers a pleasant day and evening ahead, wherever you may be.
– Resident Feline Correspondents Mr. Marcus and Mr. Lucio
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! I have received a request for a video of “Believe in Tomorrow” from the Keepsake CD, so that task is still in my work queue, which gets longer and harder to keep up with in summer. I have no new videos for June due to all the activity here, but do keep an eye on more content appearing in July.
For those who have missed previous posts and wish to view the channel content, here are links to the previous two videos.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce: Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
Sundown here at Salmon Brook Farms. I often think of the last lines of Desiderata. When my father died, he left all his children a copy of Desiderata, which I value above all else. “With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.” Having survived many battles in the Pacific during WWII, including Peleliu, he understood far better than any of us what this actually means. I regret that he did not find true peace until the end of his life.
Our feature photo for May is of the line of apple trees near the house, earlier this month when they were all sporting a profusion of blooms. This particular day opened with an assortment of cumulus, cirrus and altocumulus clouds painted in textured strokes of white mixed with the pastel colors of dawn on a canvas of early morning blue. The scene continually shifted as the day progressed on into evening: thin, high cirrus clouds, towering cumulus, developing stratus and distant nascent nimbus. The scent of earth and new vegetation clung to moisture-laden air moisture as flashes of lightning appeared to the southeast of us over the Cascades, followed by the low roll of thunder. Although no storms passed directly overhead, the quiet stillness gave one the feeling that the evening was waiting for something.
Feature photo for May 2017. Click on any photo in this post to enlarge for detail.
News from the farm
The month of May arrived, cold and wet, at our little farm in the Cascade foothills. Pacific chorus frogs provided nightly music, the annual symphony to accompany life continuing in all it cycles. The days grew steadily longer, punctuated with sunshine and dry days, even as the temperature fluctuated. Seeds that had been started earlier in the season under plant lights and on heating mats in the old garage grew steadily, and most of them have now graduated to life in the greenhouse on the porch, hardening off before continuing the next phase of their life in the main garden. The apple trees were particularly showy, adorned with more pink and white blossoms that I can remember. I recall a poem by Robert Frost, “Good-bye and Keep Cold”. Perhaps the long, cold winter has been good for them, and we will be rewarded with a good harvest.
The brightly colored trumpets of daffodils slowly gave way to the deeper and quieter colors of irises. Roses and daylilies are now assuming their strategic position as color guards in the garden, standing tall above ox eye daisy, dandelion and buttercup growing wild in the yard. The roses still show signs of black spot fungus from the cool wet spring; later blooms will be more exuberant, ruffled skirts flaring wide like flamenco dancers.
These many irises of this type are all descendants of a few given to us by friends. Hardy souls with a light, sweet, musky scent, I manage to divide and move some around every year, expanding their territory.
The first daylilies of the season
Clear mornings bring a creamsicle colored eastern sky as well as the deep lavender and rose colors of receding darkness in the west. Mists begin to rise and coalesce, and either drift away up over the mountains, or very quickly spread like spilled milk into an overcast sky for most of the morning. Sun breaking through the cover stirs up a good breeze that sails us into the afternoon, and the daytime temperature may reach into the 80s on some days.
Blooming chives add color and seasoning to the kitchen garden outside the door.
Work in the garden can continue after dinner during these longer days. I feel the air temperature drop as the sun sinks further behind the hills to the west, which has now taken on the hues of early morning. I stop and observe the color change unfold above as the night progresses. The growing moon with its thin, bright crescent and illuminated silhouette, appears like a giant eye trained on the greater universe, set against the Maxfield Parrish colors of last light. All is as it should be at this time, a moment to record in mind’s eye, a memory to cherish.
Table grapes in progress.
Pinot noir in the test block on rope trellis.
Pinot noir in the main block on conventional wire trellis.
We have a short row of a mix of Early Muscat and Gewürztraminer. So far, all vines are doing well and progressing nicely.
News from the Cats of Salmon Brook Farms
Our resident feline correspondents are busy this month working diligently on their assignments, although in their case, it is often difficult to distinguish working from loafing. Correspondent Nanohas contacted the Sicilian feline correspondents regarding a story they have been working on this spring, the story of Lucky, and how he came to live at the olive farm there.
Correspondent Nano, always watchful.
Before turning this section of the newsletter over to Sicilian FelineCorrespondent Lucky, Mr. Nano would like to introduce readers to editor, author, teacher and musician Lorraine Anderson. Lorraine can be found at Earth & Eros,http://earth-and-eros.blogspot.com/ Lorraine updates Earth & Eros twice a year at the solstices, and can also be found at http://www.ecoeditoronline.com/
Without further ado, Mr. Nano presents Sicilian FelineCorrespondent Lucky, who has filed the report for May.
A view of the Sicilian countryside. Photo credit MG/JP.
There are times when sheer luck and circumstance save the less fortunate of us from an untimely demise. My own astute and compassionate human rescuer spied me stumbling about on the streets of our little town here in Sicily. My odd behavior having caught her attention, she observed me as I repeatedly fell off the sidewalk into the street, noting that I was hugging the curb as a reference point. This determined angel, whom I was unable to see or appreciate, swiftly came to me and lifted me up, saving me from certain death. I was so frightened, however, that I scratched and clawed her, trying to escape. Fortunately for me, she had an iron grip as well as compassionate heart. I found myself incarcerated, although I later learned that I had been rescued and instated on their farm as Lucky, Prince of la Casa delle 36 Zampe, as the House of 36 Paws is known in Italian. And Lucky me, I have not one, but two doting humans!
Lucky in younger days. Photo credit MG/JP.
After several trips to a medical facility and two surgeries to remove my eyes that had been damaged beyond repair, I am now free of chronic eye infections. The kind veterinarian, now known to me as my Auntie Rita, took very good care of me as I learned to adjust. It has been more than four years now, and I am quite acclimated to my indoor and outdoor surroundings; I have even climbed trees! Lulu, my house-mate and fellow correspondent, is the most attentive and playful of my fellow feline companions, and is an expert at the game of Cat Rolling, a game where Lulu rushes me and makes me roll over. I am aware there are at least four or five other feline correspondents living outside on this farm, and I have a hard time keeping them straight.
Little Lulu as a new refugee at the House of 36 Paws. Photo credit MG/JP.
My duties as the Prince of the House are many. My most important function is napping in one of my many favorite spots, followed by making demands of my humans as only a cat of my ranking can do. Keeping Bob, Hilda and Little Girl, the three big dogs, properly respectful of me requires more energy, resulting in additional napping. Little Girl and Hilda have learned to give me a wide berth; Bob, however, knows that he must greet me quickly then retreat before I give him the royal greeting, a stiff nose-biff. In my spare time, I oversee tending of the olive trees and the garden, investigating the many fascinating sounds and odors outside. The bees are having a go at the second batch of blooming lavender, among other things. The olive trees are loaded with blossoms this year and we hope nothing goes wrong before the fruit is set. A bad rainstorm would really impede the pollination.
Lucky investigating an olive tree! Photo credit MG/JP.
Although I am blind, my hearing is highly acute; the many sounds of the farm, including birds as they call and flit through the trees and lizards and small mammals as they rustle in the grass, paint a detailed acoustic image of my world.
Lucky, hard at work investigating the garden. Photo credit MG/JP.
My fellow correspondents take me on short excursions through the fence to land they tell me is owned by a neighboring human. My own people watch over me as best they can. I am, however, very good at hiding from them. Not a day goes by when I don’t hear their plaintive cries of “Lucky, Lucky where are you?” I have a very good life and I am indeed Lucky in both name and happy circumstance.
I would like to close my report by introducing readers to our friend and house musician Patrizia Capizzi. She is a dear friend, talented musician and animal lover. Readers can find her at https://www.youtube.com/user/MyBlueBossa
– Sicilian Feline Correspondent Lucky, reporting from the House of 36 Paws.
Music news (schedule posted on the Performance Schedule page)
Readers, please do take a moment to visit Patricia Capizzi’s site listed above.
For those readers who are new or catching up, the Salmon Brook Farms YouTube channel now has content, and our first Tiny Farm Concerts one song music video was posted at the end of March. I am 14 years older and a good bit more grey since my first and only CD was released back in 2003, but still in the saddle. It has been an interesting ride, with more to come! I have received a request for a video of “Believe in Tomorrow” from the “Keepsake”CD, so that task will be in my work queue. Having just come through Memorial Day weekend, I opted to post a video of “Remembered Goodbyes”, which is also on the original CD. The CD version of this instrumental also features Jim Lamontagne on fretless bass.
The Orchard, our distributor, has placed some of our music from the Keepsake CD on YouTube. Anyone wishing to see the entire track listing and stories behind the songs should visit my personal page under MUSIC in the menu at the top of this post. Depending on what country you live in, the music placed on YouTube by The Orchard may be blocked. Readers can also access some songs from the CD via the old IUMA archive site. See https://archive.org/details/iuma-lavinia_ross
In the meantime, in your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep your own local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.
Bookings and home-grown produce: Lavinia and Rick Ross Salmon Brook Records / Salmon Brook Farms
Our feature photo for Aprilis of a honeybee coming in for a landing on an airstrip of crabapple blossoms.
Our feature photo for April 2017. Click on any photo in this post to enlarge for detail. The bee is just to the left and above center.
Her baskets will soon be loaded with delicious, nutritious pollen, like her sister shown in the photos below. The crabapple trees in the front gardens were alive with the sound of these industrious little sisters; the lighting and breezes were cooperative in capturing their beauty. Nothing says spring quite like bees happily sipping nectar and gathering pollen on a soft, blue sky day marbled with cirrus clouds. “Gather ye pollen while ye may” the sisters say, with acknowledgement to poet Robert Herrick, and to any other bees who may have expressed similar thoughts on such a fine day. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/46546
The bee in the center has loaded pollen baskets.
Same bee, but I loved photographing her, as she was one of my more cooperative subjects. Here she is again in a side view.
News from the farm
The skies of April 7th were the theater for this year’s epic battle between Old Man Winterand Spring as Warrior Princess. We were awakened around 5:45 AM by strong winds ringing the alarm in the chimes, a call to stations; by 7:30 AM we had lost power and phone service. A double rainbow appearing in the west against a dark, heavy sky indicated more was coming our direction.
Double rainbow in the west as the storm approaches.
Many rounds of high winds and heavy rain were fired throughout the day, lifting the neighbor’s tarp-covered metal frame shed from two doors down and smashing it up against the fence next door. Their chicken coop, still under construction, took a direct hit; I watched as the tar paper on the roof was ripped off and blew away. Considerable damage from falling trees, loss of services and some loss of life occurred in this unusual storm for April in western Oregon. We were fortunate not to have sustained any damage here on the farm other than downed limbs; the greenhouses held to their anchors, although the contents were found dumped on the floor. By the end of the day, Spring emerged victorious, as she always does, leaving a Rainbow of Peace in the eastern sky.
