Category Archives: Nature

Okay. Three four-foot-long garter snake skins in the south yard, and one slowly slinking four-inch-long tiger slug, Limax maximus, in the north yard, all within the past few weeks. I am ready to pull on my tall leather boots when I go out to turn on the hose to water the garden. Or better yet, fob that task off on somebody else.

Slug Patterns

Four feet long from snout to tuckus, that’s the length of the snakeskin we found by the water spout today. That’s an impressive creature. Did it live under the wooden shingles of the house, as Gil proposes? The shedding itself must be beautiful, if terrifying. A snake causes a rip by rubbing against a rock or log (or shingle), something rough, then wriggles out, splitting the tissue along the way. The patterns on the new skin exactly match the patterns of the old, but the new skin is luminous, almost transparent.

Stick your hand underneath a brood hen, reaching through the foot-long window of the chicken coop, if you want to experience pure fluffy warm fertility. Above you the sun is a hot yolk on a Delft blue platter. The bird you confront as she nests in her small space is soft, her almond-brown feathers almost more yielding than fur. Beneath her the eggs, a half dozen of them, laid and left there by the other birds for the brood hen to nurture with her heat. The sun is an egg in the nest of the sky. The tomatoes in the garden by the way blaze red as the sun. The world turns on this one moment, your eye confronting the speckled eye of the egg.

Another azure arc over chickens, piglets, tomatoes, kale, squash, corn and fields of hay. And beets and radishes and pigweed. The horses gum bunches of clover, leaving your fingers somewhat battered. Oliver believes he is within his rights to maul Willow and Farquar, two innocent canine bystanders, Farkie an English Mastiff four times his size. My feet covered with farm dirt.Tomorrow, a radio interview with a Vermont station, an Orphanmaster talk special for a group of seniors and other friends, and then — canning.

I don’t know how many pecks 200 tomatoes make, but we picked a bunch today out at the farm, heirloom beauties, bruised green/red in color, tiger striped chartreuse and yellow, just big fat misshapen crimson ones.

I don’t know how many pecks 200 tomatoes make, but we picked a bunch today out at the farm, heirloom beauties, bruised green/red in color, tiger striped chartreuse and yellow, just big fat misshapen crimson ones.

We saw the pigs, eight week old piglets bound for their starring moment soon enough, the young chickens running crazily around their hutch, the dysfunctional trio of horses and the bantam rooster prancing across the yard. Larry was putting in a new flower border for Noreen, and Davey was getting his carrots and radishes ready to go to market tomorrow along with those luscious tomatoes. The sun split the sky above and coins rained out on the garden beds, making us so fortunate to be there to catch them.

We saw the pigs, eight week old piglets bound for their starring moment soon enough, the young chickens running crazily around their hutch, the dysfunctional trio of horses and the bantam rooster prancing across the yard. Larry was putting in a new flower border and Davey was getting his carrots and radishes ready to go to market tomorrow along with those luscious tomatoes. The sun split the sky above and coins rained out on the garden beds, making us so fortunate to be there to catch them.

Two garter snakes, black with a yellow stripe, one big, one small — mother and child? — entwined near the garden hose, where they can sip off the condensation when they get the chance…

Frog #2 appeared today in the living room, huddling against a wet floor mop. Where are they coming from?

At least it wasn’t a snake.