River of Logs

I haven't written in a while because we've been BUSY. The short, heavy rain we had last week (about 3/4 inch in 20 minutes) led to quite a flood in our post-wildfire property.

I knew it was coming down hard, but when I looked out the back window, I was still shocked. There was a river of black dirt 10-20 feet wide crashing down the hillside in a usually dry stream bed.

By then, water was pouring over the road.

What I didn't know then, was that it was washing down over 100 logs- heavy green timber cut in 6 foot lengths by the neighbor after the burn. (up to 24 inch diameter)

They all got stockpiled in our pond- threatening to wash out the driveway.

So, guess who got to play on a tractor all week?  Unfortunately, we figure the flood carried about 600 cubic meters of ash, sand and soil to our creek bed, so it's been hard to make a dent in it. But, Paul was able to move the logs and clear a gully, so water can at least get through and not take out the road or driveway next time it rains.

Anybody got a dump truck? Or need some nice, black soil? It's free! ;)

Black holes and Miracle Plants (Wildfire Part 4)

Here's how the burn area looks today:

 Holes created form burn-out tree roots made walking in the snow interesting...
some of them are big!

pioneer crocus flower - taking the lead in forest restoration

the meadows are coming back fast

bluebells also taking the lead 

Things that go Bump in the Night...

We had a visitor last night. I awoke when our motion-detector light went on outside the bedroom. Even half asleep, I registered that I had not heard the noisy dog-door...it wasn't a dog. I listened....silence. Then, 'boom, bang, clatter!' By the time I got to the window, I could see a huge paw wrapped around a tree, then a big face turned toward me. A bear was shimmying up the tree to reach our hummingbird feeder! The feeder is strung 15 feet above the ground and between trees, so despite his best efforts, it was out of reach.

In the time it took my husband to get kitchen pans for the farewell party, the bear shimmied down the tree and checked out the pond. No fish. Only puny tadpoles. Bummer.

I wanted to throw him a bag of dog food. Poor guy must be hungry. But I never would. "A fed bear is a dead bear"

I wasn't fast enough to get a photo of him, but he left this behind.

Raging Wall of Fire (Wildfire part 3)

There was no stopping it. Driven by 60 mile-an-hour gusts, the wall of fire consumed everything in its path. Almost.

We had been evacuated and living with friends for 3 weeks (generous friends!) when we got the news. I could tell by Paul's tone of voice... after three weeks of moving in all directions around our house, the wildfire had finally devoured our home. The firefighters wisely fled to get out of the way of the inferno. They told our neighbor that the fire was so hot and so fast, no houses could possibly be left up there.

We found out two days later they were wrong. 

Another 10 days of waiting and we returned home. It had, indeed, swarmed everywhere on our property. It burned several outbuildings to the ground. It kissed the house on all sides. A birdhouse two feet outside the living room window was reduced to a pile of ash. Scorch marks, like war tattoos, adorned the legs of our deck and nearby trees. But the house was fine- not even smoke damage.

A Fire "tornado": shovel handle (above) burned, along with the rocks, but the cardboard two feet away is untouched! 

Incidentally- there really IS such a thing as a fire tornado!

What Would You Take? (Wildfire, Part 2)

 (photo courtesy Jeff Stahla)

We had only minutes to decide. A wildfire was headed our way. We had time enough to take whatever would fit in our two cars. So, what to take? The answer surprised me.

Some things were obvious: my harp, music-in-progress notes, computer, favorite photos, toothbrush and a change of clothes. Then other things...the chain saw, in case trees fall over the road and we can't get in/out; my small file cabinet, which has important papers (like proof of house insurance!); our passports (I'm a travel addict).

The next day, we were allowed to return, briefly, that day to get our truck. Naturally, we thought, "We'll load it up!"

Here's where it got interesting: We got to the house, looked at each other and said, "What do you want to take?"  Walking around the house, we couldn't come up with much. I love my books and plants, but, they are all replaceable. Ditto for almost everything else. We realized there was nothing else that we cared about all that much. In fact, it occurred to me that it would almost be a relief to NOT have most of our stuff. (And we're not talking about a lot of stuff....our house is just over 1,000 square feet.)

Einstein once said something like,"Each of my possessions is like a stone in my pocket, weighing me down."  I feel inclined to agree- and it was interesting to have such a visceral experience of it.

We didn't get long to ponder this.  As we were loading a box of paintings (irreplaceable-painted by friends and family), a wall of smoke engulfed us. Time to go. Having no way to know where the fire was, we had to assume it was close. So, we left with an almost-empty truck.

It's true that, without insurance, we would have been urgently motivated to take necessities - cooking pots, blankets, clothes, and so on. And I don't for a moment dismiss the deep pain and loss suffered by many people who did lose everything in that fire. My prayers go to them daily. I just found it interesting to observe that the idea of less stuff was so liberating to me.

What do you all think? If you had an hour to pack your car, what would you take?

The Croak that Heralds Summer

A few days ago, I heard the first froggy-dude of the summer! This brave boy was not afraid to sing, despite the still-freezing nights we are having. Given that our nearest pond is only a few feet from the house, and I was bringing in firewood when I heard him, you'd think I could catch a glimpse of little Romeo....but, no.

As a veteran frog hunter, it's embarrassing to admit that it took me quite a few years to glimpse one these little guys. It was one of those early- 2000 summers and we were in drought. Our giant pond dried up. Completely. And it was only June. The poor Romeos were hopping around, not sure where to go or what to do. (It did finally rain enough that there were tadpoles that year.)

Finally, I understood why they were so hard to spot. Chorus frogs are tiny- no bigger than the last segment of your thumb! Naturally, they are mud colored, too. By May, we often have dozens singing all around our house. Their chirpy song is delightful- and its a good thing because the vibration of that chirp carries for miles.

(Photo curtesy of wiki- I did not have my telephoto that day!)

This, in contrast to the Titicaca water frog- which lives in the high, arid borderland between Bolivia and Peru in Lake Titicaca. (I just learned about them through my work with Idea Wild) These sumo-frogs weigh around 2 pounds, and measure up to 20 inches. They spend most of their time at the bottom of the 300-foot deep lake, and breathe predominantly through their skin! Over-hunting* and pollution, along with introduced trout that eat their tadpoles, have left these frogs critically endangered.

*Roughly 5,000 indigenous people live on islands of the massive Lake Titicaca, which measures 180 miles by 50 miles. Most are subsistence farmers and fishermen. They traditionally eat both fish and frogs. Some (the Uros people) have created their own islands, with floating reeds, on which they live.

I wonder what the Lake Titicaca frog sounds like? Probably not chirpy.

Lions on my Door Step

Living with mountain lions is a part of rural life- and I hope it always will be. I consider it a privilege and an honor to see them and do my best to respect their presence by not letting my dogs run wild and not throwing out scraps that might attract them. Nevertheless, in sharing the same habitat, we inevitably meet.

It was the dogs that first drew my attention to the lump of pine needles. They were TOO excited by it.

It was a lovely winter day. We'd been out for a walk and were nearly home when we stumbled on it. All I could see was a large mound of pine needles and dirt. Maybe 6 feet across. As I approached the mound, my curiosity piqued, I was taken aback to realize it was a deer...that had been partially BURIED. It had several large bites taken out of it's gut.

What had buried it...and where was the hunter now...?

I slowly backed away, simultaneously scanning the nearby trees. I knew instantly that I was being watched. No doubt. He was there, watching all of us. Soundlessly. The hair  on the back of my neck stood up. I couldn't see the lion in any trees near me, but I knew he was close. A lion never abandons a kill. And this one was fresh.

I walked down the hill backwards, calling the buoyant dogs after me. Home was only a hundred paces away, but it felt a mile.

Of course, I couldn't keep the dogs from investigating the lions progress with the carcass. I tried, but within a few days, I well cleaned skeleton was dragged into my front "yard," where the dogs proceeded to eat the entire thing. Oh, happy dogs.

Our off- grid toaster:

Solar Laundry

It's breached freezing this January day - time for laundry!!