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Archive for November, 2012

Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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Pamela, I have to tell you that we took extra care to avoid dozing as many live trees as we could. But the funny thing is that, between the time we purchased the property and when we had the closing, there was a spring tornado that went right through the property, downing and stripping trees. At first we were so sad, but when we saw the improved view, we were thanking Mother Nature’s crafting, so that we wouldn’t have to eliminate any ourselves. So, we ended up placing the pad site right in the middle of an area where there were no trees larger than 8″ in width, as well. Another thing is that because the tornado took down mostly scrub oaks (as we call them), the pine trees are returning. At the rate they’re growing, we’ll be surrounded and shaded by them soon. It’s heavenly up there, like being in the clouds, and sooooo quiet, too. Just had to share about the trees.

Contributed by Teresa Fenton Wilber  

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Lichen language

Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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The trees are lit…

Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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Moving day….

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Photos by Pamela Paulsrud

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Tree House

A dear friend, Rita shared this poem by Nancy Willard with me today. Thanks Rita! Thanks Nancy! Thanks trees!

Tree House

by Nancy Willard

Start with a tree,
an old willow with its feet in the water,
and one low branch to let you in
and a higher branch to let you
upstairs,
and a lookout branch to show
how far you’ve come
(the lake before you,
the woods at your back),

and now you are close
to those who live in these rooms
without walls, without doors:
one nuthatch typing its way up the bark,
two mourning doves calling the sun out of darkness,
three blackbirds folding their wings tipped with sunset,
twelve crows threading the air and stitching
a cape that whirls them away
through the empty sky,

and don’t forget the blue heron
stalking the shallows for bluegills,
and don’t forget the otter backpaddling past you,
and the turtles perched on the log like shoes
lined up each night in a large family,

and don’t forget the owl
who has watched over you
since you were born.

Be the housekeeper of trees,
who have nothing to keep
except silence.

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