Rural Route Yarns
There are many wise sayings about trees. The best have already been repeated many times. My favourite is “The Best Time to Plant a Tree is Ten Years Ago”. This simple phrase hits on the point that planting a tree is always a good thing and don’t procrastinate in doing it. |
In my case, my Dad planted the trees of which I speak. He believed in supporting nature and not putting things off. Let’s get it done! He planted these jewels almost 10 years ago in 1998. As was customary, in his quiet way, he acquired a large burlap sack of black walnuts. Dad loved the wood of the black walnut and the walnut tree is highly prized by anyone who really knows trees. Squirrels love the black walnut as well! He thought that a forest of black walnut trees would be a wonderful addition to the slopes of our small farm at the very crest of the Oak Ridges Moraine. Dad criss-crossed the slopes of the farm planting a nut into the soil every 20 feet or so. He let the nut drop from the height of his belt buckle. He planted the nut into the ground in the same way that it struck. He did his best to replicate nature’s way which has a secret wisdom within it. He did all this as cancer was wracking his body. His health would not stop him from doing what was right. Two years later and there was not a black walnut in sight. The cancer had continued to take control of Dad’s body but not his spirit or sense of humour. I was keeping a watchful eye out for the bright green leaves to poke above the grasses. And they did! In the summer of 2000, almond shaped bright leaves started to pop along the slopes. I rushed out with mouse guards to protect the little trees whenever and wherever they showed their tops. A forester friend of mine told me that it was customary for the nuts to take a couple of years to break open. These trees were right on schedule. Dad passed away in the spring of 2001, before the horrors of 911 but not before I had shown him pictures of his trees. Another World War II veteran has passed away. Now in the summer of 2007 I try to continue to walk in the footsteps of my
Dad, twenty paces at a time. I check on the mouse guards and pull away the taller
grasses. I always keep a watchful eye for the stragglers of bright green leaves that
might still poke above the waving fields of grass. Some of Dad’s trees are quite
spectacular now. It is my simple desire that they continue to flourish on the Oak |
After recently moving from the city to the
country I wondered how I would manage
without all that entertainment so close at
hand. Movie theatres, museums, art
galleries, buskers, and shopping malls;
what would I replace them with in my
spare time? Well, I needn’t have worried
because Mother Nature has come to my
aid. The large open space that is our new First there is bird-watching: finches,
doves, jays, cardinals all hover in nearby
trees as they wait for their turn at the
feeder. There is an obvious “pecking
order” and anything with feathers who
dares to butt in line gets flapped at. Then
there are the chipmunks who peek out
from under the shed, scamper across the
lawn, and then dart into the drainpipe
where they can keep a close eye on the But the racoon, ah that lumbering, black-eyed ball of fur, he is the most entertaining of all. We call him Rocky, not just after the song, but because he is tough like a boxer, and because when he gets up on the birdfeeder he really rocks! |
No, he is not supposed to be on the
birdfeeder. We have tried all sorts of
contraptions to keep him away: grease on
the pole, fancy baffles bought at the bird We tried to scare him away by making loud noises. He was oblivious. We also tried a water gun. But he seemed quite pleased to be getting a nice cool shower on a summer night. Finally we tried a slingshot and golf balls. But he quickly realized that we are not any better with a golf ball in a sling shot than with a golf ball on the golf course. Now we just sit back with the |
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