Impermanent Art

The many random balanced rock sculptures I create around our property are impermanent by design. I expect them to tumble back to earth, sometimes within mere minutes. Other times, they can last more than a year. I have an affection for placing balanced stones atop the stumps of trees.

Somewhere in the archive of past posts (Previous Somethings) there are photos of me using the loader to raise rocks too heavy for me to lift so I could balance them on a tall stump. The upper rocks fell rather quickly but the last one sat on that stump looking rather phallic for far longer than it should.

Eventually, the lopped tree trunks rot to the point of not adequately supporting large stones. I think that is my favorite end to these installations. Once the trunk is no longer standing, the piece cannot be recreated. Sometimes the rocks get repurposed into the labyrinth.

Earlier this fall, Cyndie and I dug up a rock along one of our trails that was too big to lift so I just leaned it up against a stump where two rocks balanced above.

The stump for this artistic masterpiece didn’t get a chance to rot to tumble the stones. I can’t be sure whether the rocks fell before some woodland critter in search of insects attacked the stump or not.

I admit to cruelly imagining the stones tumbled while the animal was within range of being superbly startled. It would be really sad if one got hurt by them, but I suspect wildlife is quick enough to dodge more than a bump from the collapse of one of my creations.

Hopefully, the scavenger got a good snack from the stump shredding. Think of the poor insect victims!

Nature can be harsh. But it’s beautiful to observe!

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Ridiculous Reality

Reality can be downright absurd. Still, we take what we get and forge ahead because reality doesn’t go away no matter how much we sometimes pretend things are otherwise. Regardless of how many distractions we find to escape into fantasy, reality is always there, waiting for us to return.

Our reality this morning at Wintervale is a rock-hard freeze of 13°F (-10°C), locking the mishmash of mud in the paddocks into an almost unnavigable pockmarked surface. Too bad that didn’t prevent the two chestnuts, Mia and Light, from almost running me over in a panicked retreat from the aggressive posturing of Mix. She has an annoyingly consistent need to disrupt the bucolic serenity by encroaching on the feeding space of Mia and Light.

At least we were able to enjoy a quick return to calm after forcing Mix back to where we could close some gates and allow better-protected feed pan grazing to resume.

The clear blue sky and bright sunshine are beautiful, but the ridiculous winter temperature at this point of our early spring is a bit of a slap in our faces.

On a stroll yesterday afternoon we took a moment to cut some branches with a handsaw in completion of a mid-way walking route through our woods. We added the first half of this shortcut path last fall and have enjoyed walking it so much we were inspired to complete the last portion. It will be nice to have the route adequately established before all the greenery explodes that would otherwise obscure it.

When we reached the clearing of our perimeter trail, I took a moment to re-stack a couple columns of balanced rocks that winter toppled.

How long do you think it will be until those views turn green again?

It’s gonna take a lot warmer temperatures than we are enduring lately, I know that much. A few warm days in a row and green growth will start showing up everywhere.

It hasn’t arrived yet, but we can see the month of April from where we are standing. It makes it all the more ridiculous that it feels like January today.

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Corner Mark

It was a warm day yesterday, with plenty of sunshine. Today, the other shoe drops. A fresh dose of Arctic air is dipping into our region for a few days. Taking advantage of yesterday’s pleasant weather, we took a leisurely stroll around the property with Delilah. This, after the dog and I awoke from an afternoon nap, blanketed by the glorious rays blazing through the glass of the back doors to the deck.

As our walk approached the northeast corner of our property, my balanced stone cairn denoting the landmark stood out vividly in the bright sunlight.

It is far from a permanent stack. We walk the perimeter trails daily and I am fastidious about picking up the rocks if they have tumbled, so there is a general impression of it being a constant marker.

The stack is close enough to the road that snow rolling off the plow blade of the township truck can topple the top few rocks. The base is a combination of multiple big rocks, so that tends to buffer from any dramatic impact of the ground heaving as it freezes and thaws.

In fact, it seems like the harder the freeze, the less the rocks appear to shift. Maybe they all share a similar enough makeup that there is little difference in temperature coefficient.

Otherwise, it is likely that vibrations from a heavy truck rumbling past could knock some rocks down. Occasionally, a big wind will tip them when it hits at just the right angle.

Ultimately, most of the balanced rocks around our property succumb to the push-off when a bird perched on the pinnacle decides to take flight.

Something about one of those laws of physics.

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Syrup Again

Since moving to the country and discovering some of the local treasures around us, Cyndie has purchased pure maple syrup only once a year. It’s that time again! Just a few miles south of Ellsworth, the Stockwell family taps 35 acres of maple trees and collects enough gallons of sap to supply folks with a full year’s worth of syrup, if you have containers to hold it.

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We’ve figured out the routine and bring two 2-quart Mason jars to be placed under the spigot of the large tank and filled with the dark amber bliss every April during the S & S Sugar Bush open house pancake breakfast weekend.

It’s hard to find an event pancake breakfast that isn’t pretty darn good, be it firefighters, boy scouts, legions, or service clubs, but I gotta say the fresh, hot blueberry cakes, sausage, and pure maple syrup combination we enjoyed yesterday morning tasted about as good as I can recall ever experiencing.

Our friends Mike and Barb Wilkus accompanied us, having also joined us for the live Climate Cast at MPR Thursday night and then sleeping over to be available for the Sugar Bush open house. After the scrumptious breakfast, we took a stroll through the woods to witness the number of tapped trees that were supplying the sweet maple sap.

It is impressive to consider the hundreds of gallons of sap running up through the roots of these trees when the spring temperatures are just right —warm during the day and below freezing at night. One of the Stockwell sons described how the percent of sweetness drops in time, but his grandpa would collect the later sap for a vinegar.

The syrup open house has become so precious to us, Cyndie invited more friends to stop by today so she could go again and share the event with them, too. I reckon the delicious pancakes might have something to do with her zeal, as well.

There is another precious annual event that will be happening next week for us. For the second year in a row, Wintervale Ranch will be holding our own open house as a host site for The Labyrinth Society’s World Labyrinth Day Peace Walk. Walk as one at 1.

Around the world, at each location, people will walk and visualize peace at 1:00 p.m. in their time zones, creating a wave of peaceful energy flowing around the globe.

Cyndie has been working to spruce up our labyrinth, despite the lack of growth from the barely thawed landscape. I noticed when Barb and Mike were here and we did a moonlight walk Thursday night that the overnight freezing and daytime warm sunshine was still conspiring to tip over plenty of my rock arrangements.

It sounds like we can expect some rain showers this coming week, so maybe new growth will be exploding in spectacular glory for visitors on Saturday. If the day dawns nearly as spectacular as today, World Labyrinth Day will be a wonderful opportunity to experience the best of Wintervale Ranch.

If you are reading in the Twin Cities area, I hope you will consider joining us!

Saturday, May 5, 2018 between 12:00-3:00 p.m.  Please email cyndie@wintervaleranch.com to register and receive directions.

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Intriguing Finds

Imagine this: Delilah and I were on another walk around our property. How many times have we done that before? Regardless the frequency of our travel on the variety of paths available, there is always something new to discover. Yesterday in the quickly fading light of day, it was snow and marks in the snow that caught our attention.

Well, my attention, anyway.

In both cases, I had almost entirely passed by the beauties when something caused me to stop and fish the camera out of my pocket. Despite the bitterly cold temperature and the low light, I came up with images that work for me.

The first subject was a couple of balanced mossy rocks that the snow had frosted with a flair. It flowed down from the top of the upper rock and circled perfectly around it as it settled over the rock below.

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The second find was even more fascinating to me. At first glance I assumed the marks in the snow were probably from George and Anneliese’s dogs, but one mark didn’t make any sense. My brain processed it as if a bear had swung a clawed paw.

Probably not.

Then it occurred to me. That was the shadow of a passing wing! These were the tracks from a predator snatching up prey. Wow.

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I had to halt Delilah’s progress so I could get out the camera again and position myself to capture the shot. I couldn’t reach because she was pulling against me toward something more interesting to her.

I called her to come back toward me and then quickly pleaded with her to stop and stay, in fear she would come barreling all the way back to me and stomp through the scene. Luckily, she stopped.

Just another walk around the property. Yeah.

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Entryway 2.1

Back in the first week of August, I posted about the bush at the front door of our house dying an unexplained death. A few days after I published the picture, I arrived home from work to find the dead branches all gone.

Cyndie had cut it back to the main trunk, saving that for me in case I wanted to balance some rocks on it.

That was all the invitation I needed.

I didn’t actually believe this would last as long as it has. When I pass by with the lawn tractor while mowing, I fully expect the stone to topple over from the vibration, but it has survived multiple mowings thus far without falling. There have been a few rainy and windy days, too, but it continues to stand.

I never expect balanced rocks to last, but when they endure for long periods of time, I grow increasingly attached to them. It becomes hard to try something fresh after they come down, because I get more interested in trying to get back what we had before.

That’s probably a good metaphorical life-lesson for me right there.

I’ll ponder that as I gaze a while longer at the mesmerizing balanced stone.

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Reconciling Melancholy

Every day isn’t always rainbows and unicorns. Sometimes transplanted trees don’t survive and balanced rocks fall. In and of themselves, individual issues are not really that big of a deal. What I noticed over the weekend was that the little things have a mysterious power to lurk below the surface and weigh down the ambiance of an otherwise wonderful series of days.

Fortunately, I have access to an incredible antidote in the form of some fine animals in a very special setting. Photos by Cyndie.

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After a short span of time, the rocks that I used the tractor to lift into place on the tall tree stump, have already fallen. Since it happened so quickly this time, I have decided not to try again. I was thinking I could cut the stump to a lower height, where I would be able to reach without needing the tractor, and then select some rocks that aren’t too heavy for me to lift. But then I remembered that we have another bird house that was given to us, and that could be a great spot for it.

It was probably a bird that landed on, and tipped, the balanced rocks anyway. What do you figure?

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