Owl Eyes

A lonely screech owl wails in the dark woods. The air is still. There are no stars shining, nor moon. As Faerygirl and I stride down the driveway, our pupils dilate to monstrous sizes. The rapidity of the iris movement is almost painful as our eyes adjust to the dimness of the light. We have owl eyes now, and if we look at each other, we see huge dark eyes in pale faces. This darkness makes us look even more elven in our heavy cloaks. We started having owl eyes earlier in the year, broken by a brief respite as daylight savings time came, but now it is December. The days only get shorter. Sometimes, we have a sparkling diamond sky with a luminous moon, sparkling off snow. But this morning is warmer, and there is a lot of cloud cover. It's really time to be in bed, this darkness tells us. Winter is a time to cuddle in warm blankets, sleeping and dreaming until the sun's light returns. But schoolbuses and schedules do not respect the rhythm of the seasons, so here we are, standing in the dark, with our owl eyes opened.

Morning Meditation, November 23

Cradled in the belly of the beech Sisters, I find myself swaddled in fog. My cloak surrounds me, and my hood covers my face. It is extremely comfortable in this, my secret place. This morning's meditation is one of listening, to drops falling from leaves and the rustling steps of unseen animals. Even though the fog heralds a shift towards more typical November weather, I am warm in my layers of clothes, fuzzy bathrobe, and woolen cloak. I breathe slowly, experiencing each inhalation as one of safety and coziness. With each exhale, I assert myself as a participant in this world of blue haze and ambivalent shapes. Eventually, I move and lift back my hood to look upon the foggy forest. It is time to go back home, where the sleepy loved ones are waiting for me.

The Kind of Mother I Am

This is the kind of mother I am: on a sunny November afternoon, I chase my almost-4-year-old child into puddles along the driveway. This is not a problem, since he always wears "muck" boots. We pretend I am the Wicked Witch of the West, cackling after him, but I cannot risk going close to water. He splashes at me most joyfully. As we near the house, I steer him towards the largest, deepest puddles of all. For a long time, he races back and forth through them, trying to kick the water close enough to "melt" me. I'm not really interested in getting wet, but I love those frabjous smiles set in a face taken straight from a Renaissance Cupid. Soon enough, his pants are brown and wet, his boots are full of water, and his coat is dripping. He comes to pour the boot water on me. I "melt" dramatically. Then I tell him he might as well take off his socks, too. Beaming, my little guy goes back to the deep pools, digging in the mud with his bare toes, splashing with his small hands, feeling all the temperatures and textures of a mud hole in the woods. He tells me that mud feels squishy, leaves feel dry, rocks feel poky, and the water feels wet. I watch carefully for signs of being chilled, but there are none. No goosebumps, no red feet or fingers. We rejoice in the sun and water and trees and time. It is a moment of kairos. But finally, the Wicked Witch of the West decides to transform into a Good Witch, and make a potion. The little one is lured inside to rest in a bath while his mother makes hot chocolate. Now, as I write, he is naked, wrapped in a very soft blanket, drinking fabulous hot chocolate and eating cheese crackers.

This is how you put up the siding and trim waaaayyyy up high. The Lord of Dragonwood plays at being Spiderman. Thank goodness he is wearing a harness.

The Lady, hair blowing in her eyes, surveying the construction of the Big Deck.

View of the house part. Still under construction on the exterior: Big Deck, soffets and fascia for the roof, chimney finishing.

The house is soooo big, it's hard to get all of it in the picture! This is the view from the south.

Toads in the Road (from September 20)

From my nature journal: September 20, 2009

Driving home last night, I tried to avoid hitting all the toads in the road. Small hopping jumpers, their eyes reflecting red, the toads came out to enjoy the warm rain. Little carcasses showed where cars had been unable to keep from running them down. I slowed, glad to be alone on a country road, driving carefully to let these little ones live. Crane flies, looking like giant mosquitoes, fluttered in the air. However, the mosquitoes themselves seemed fewer than usual.

This morning, the scent of warm rich leaf mold permeated the damp air. My daughter rescued one last toad, removing it from the road before the bus came rumbling up.

Late August Morning

The mornings start green-golden, as we walk Faerygirl down the driveway to meet the bus. Heavy in the lazy fog drifts the scent of crushed walnuts. Sometimes, there is a hint of our musky skunk neighbor. Every day, there is more yellow at the edges of the forest, a few more leaves on the ground. The song is different, too, no longer the wild birdsong of spring. This music consists of soft cricket chirping, the gurgling cackle of a disturbed screech owl, the sharp keen of hunting hawks, and occasional cawing from angry crows. As the golden sunrise mist dissipates, a September-blue sky reveals itself and the cicadas begin their buzzing. Squirrelboy expresses disgruntlement with the burrs that stick everywhere - clothes, cats, blankets, soft toys: anything that comes in contact with the burrs that come in with us or the cats. Berries begin ripening; I see the deep blue-purple of Solomon's seal and the red of false Solomon's-seal. I anticipate a pawpaw harvest in the next week or so.

Sunflower Month

We have moved beyond the showy time of the lilies and are now in the season of sunflowers. Hints of gold touch the fields and trees. Pollen hangs in the moisture-laden air. Even though it's been unusually cool and wet this year, now the heat has arrived. Corn and zucchini fill the market stands, but everyone I know is having trouble with tomatoes. It's been too cold and wet for them to be happy. Perhaps now in this August heat they will take off. Already we are gleaning honey from Aphrodite and Beatrice. We look forward to a large honey harvest later on. We can see and feel how heavy the super frames are getting. I was also able to put up some beans. I love the Royal Burgundy bean plants, with their purple flowers, stems, and pods. So pretty, and so practical! We have found these purplish plants to be hardier than their green cousins, more resistant to disease and insect damage. They are tasty, too. When you blanch them, the purple goes into the water and the beans turn green. I grew dwarf sunflowers in the garden and big ones in front of the beehives. Their happy yellow faces attract beneficial insects and bring a smile to all who look at them. I hope that later on in the year, as the seeds ripen, we shall see flocks of goldfinches settling on their strong stalks. It is amazing to see how well the showy males are camoflauged when they are feeding on sunflowers - even their gaudy yellow feathers blend in!

Hive Notes

Started with Deborah this time. No queen was observed, and there was no evidence of fresh brood. We fed her, and hope that her queen is out on a mating flight. Next, we visited Cynthia. Now this is a really clean hive! All of the drawn-out comb is even and very beautiful. She is orderly and healthy. She is also quite compliant, showing us her queen on the second frame we drew from the hive body. We fed sugar water and pollen patties to both Cynthia and Deborah so that they can quickly build up more honeycomb and population. Beatrice was fussy. For a while, we thought she might be queenless because the girls were so grouchy. They weren't patient with us at all. However, we did spot a queen near the end of our session. Beatrice is busy drawing out her super frames. We fed her sugar water, too. Finally, we crossed the field to check on Aphrodite. She is our mother hive, and we have high hopes for a honey harvest soon. Not yet, we must be patient...but there are several super frames with capped honey! We have to wait until all the honey on a frame is capped before we can harvest. "Green" honey is not so good for you. It's amazing that the bees know exactly when stored nectar hits the right density, and that's when they cap the cells. Aphrodite is a messy hive. Crosscomb is all over the place, making it hard to move the frames and check on the bees. I thought I saw a mite on one bee's leg, but it moved before I could really check it out well. The rest of the hive seems quite hale. We observed the queen here, too.

Hive Notes

We didn't see queens in any of the hives, but there were many queen cells in Aphrodite. I am wondering if her former queen has swarmed or was killed. However, there is plenty of brood along with the maturing queen cells, so we are not too worried. We even took a frame with a capped queen cell to start a fourth hive, Deborah. The bees were rather cranky, too. The workers have been bringing in a lot of honey. Aphrodite's supers are filling quickly. We hope to have an extraction in a few weeks, and taste our first honey this year. Beatrice is busy, but still needs to build population and comb before she is productive. We don't expect to harvest from Cynthia or Deborah, because they are still very new. We need to feed them.

Irises and Strawberries

Tonight, the Lord of Dragonwood took us on a walk to see the secret irises in bloom. Although we knew they existed, for three years or so we have never seen their flowers. Delicate they are, and lovely. Pale, pale blue-purple with soft yellow throats, much more subtle than their showy cultivated sisters. They have that pure beauty of an innocent woman, simple in her garments but irresistible in her loveliness.

In the gardens, the strawberry harvest is heavy. We picked as a family in the evening, and after the children are abed, the grownups hull and wash and put them up. The Lord is a master of strawberry jam and other sweet delights. The full Strawberry Moon rose red this evening, perfectly matching the hue of the fat berries in our bowl.

Squirrelboy found out why we don't keep petting spiders (I did warn him). Mamma Wolf Spider did not appreciate the harassment, and bit him on the finger. After a bout of howling, Squirrelboy seems to be absolutely fine. We hope he has learned his lesson. "But I can still pet daddy long-legs," he says, having learned that they do not bite people. And there was the time earlier this spring when he found out why you don't want to pet a bee...

Outside the front door of the Manor, the Lord is building a fine strong deck. And last night, the Lady held a soiree with intimate friends to honor this growing time of year. Soft music under the moon and stars, with good food and good conversation, is a perfect way to spend an evening.

The Nightsingers

O the Nightsingers, they celebrate
the June moon
friendly and warm and full
like a mother's face beaming at her
children.

You were there with me, you know
the harmony
'tween crickets and starlight and we
around the fire with our guitars and
drumming.

Sweet voices, raised in song,
us and they
not so different after all,
our living, dying, believing,
and joy.

Hive Notes

Today I named our three hives...Aphrodite, Beatrice, and Cynthia (A, B, and C for the unromantic). The Lord of Dragonwood refers to the hives by location, but location can change. Also, different hives do have different personalities, and I'd like to honor that. Besides, if Neil Gaiman can name his beehives and have people ask after them, I can, too.

For those familiar with Dragonwood, Aphrodite is the tall hive that sits at the edge of our property, facing the farmer's field. This year, we took some young brood from her to start a new hive (Beatrice). Shortly after that, we fretted because Aphrodite's queen didn't seem to be laying well. The bees knew she neared the end of her reign, so they made a new queen from one of the most recently laid eggs. Instead of a small bump over a pupa, we observed a peanut-sized structure surrounding the new queen-to-be. The next time we worked the hive, we saw the young queen, beautiful and full of eggs. She was lighter in color than her mother, and much fatter. The hive Aphrodite is now full of brood and honey. We put on a super, which is the part beekeepers use to collect honey for themselves. This is good news, as it means Aphrodite is socking away enough honey to last her through the winter, and shows no signs of stopping. Aphrodite's queen certainly is doing a fabulous job. We removed some messy cross-comb, too.

Beatrice is descended from Aphrodite's old queen, who managed to make it through the winter. We'd had another hive that seemed to be doing well, but was lost in a late-spring cold spell. Discouraged and nervous, the Lord and Lady of Dragonwood purchased pollen patties and sugar-water feeders. We believe feeding has helped Aphrodite become strong and Beatrice to take off. Beatrice's population rivals Aphrodite's. Although a bit smaller, they too work at filling their hive with honey. They had less pulled-out comb to start with, so they have a lot of work to do. However, we observed lots of capped brood, which are the pupae transforming into adult bees. Both Beatrice and Aphrodite have drones, the male bees, present. This means the hive is confident enough of their resources to produce males that do nothing but eat and maybe get the opportunity to mate with a virgin queen. In the fall, these guys will be kicked out to starve and freeze, because they have no value to a hive struggling to survive the winter. The Lord of Dragonwood remembers that splits in the past did not ramp up population so quickly, and is quite pleased with the effects of heavy feeding directly after making a split. We plan to feed another week or so, until the super we added has comb drawn out.

Cynthia is my baby. I split her off of Aphrodite all by myself, with the assistance of my friend J. I moved frames of young brood into a temporary cardboard hive, and took it under the eaves of the woods behind my new herb patch, right next to Beatrice. A day or two later, I transferred the frames and feeder into a hive body. The bees had already begun transforming a larva into a queen cell. Hooray! Today, Cynthia was full of life. Some of the capped brood that I moved has already hatched, and they are working very hard to keep their hive healthy. I cannot wait to meet their new queen.

Leeches and a Musical Moment

It's been a wet Spring. The forest is lush and green, and so are the weeds in my garden. I can barely keep pace with them. Leeches stretch across the driveway, black and glistening. They look like giant earthworms as long as my hand from wrist to longest fingertip. They are Annelids, segmented worms like their cousins. It is beautiful to watch them move, stretching and bunching with peristaltic action, blindly seeking their ways across the gravel. Above sits a now-hidden hawk's nest. I found a feather one morning, just as I was singing:

"Oh what a beautiful morning,
Oh what a beautiful day,
I got a beautiful feeling...
(here I stooped to pick up the feather I had just noticed)
Everything's going my way!"

Indeed, sometimes there ARE moments in life that are straight out of a musical.

Nature Journal, The First Year (2005)

Here are the pages of my nature journal from the year we moved into Dragonwood.

Autumn Equinox, Sep.22

Saw beans harvested today.
September is the time of berries.
False Solomon's Seal - red, they start out pale and turn wine-red at the end of the stalk.
Solomon's Seal - blue-black, all along the stalk.
Jack-in-the-Pulpit - bright red clublike clusters, no leaves.

Acorns and hickory nuts are falling. Squirrels scramble among the trees. Yellow and brown leaves fall to the driveway. Still, there's lots of green in the tree canopy.

The sun in the morning makes the East stide of the tree trunks glow orange.

Kitty keeps catching mice.
Mist/Fog embraces us in the morning.

September 25

Rain all day. Really pouring tonight. More yellow and brown leaves fall. The huge pawpaw leaves glisten, water falling from their dark green surfaces. We harvested and ate their fruit earlier this month. The fruit drops when it is greenish yellow and quite soft. Mice have been coming into the house in droves. I haven't seen or heard the wrens for a while. We still hear the owls, though. Temperatures are predicted to drop. No Daddy Long-legs in the house any more. Still lots of moths. Lacewings, too. A squirrel was swinging from the branches out back. All this rain makes the earth a muddy mess. Burrs are brown, small, and harder to find. Still some mosquitoes, though fewer.

September 28

Took a walk last night with [Faerygirl] and [the Lord]. Ate small soybeans from an unharvested field. Milkweed pods along the ditch - not open yet, though. Bright star/panet low in the Western sky. Crickets chirping in a different, softer tone than summer. Very cool in the night, but in the woods it is still and warm. [Faerygirl] caught another walking stick, skinny and in its dark lacquered-brown phase. Much of the field is brown and dry, although there are still a few plants flowering here and there.

More oak leaves are falling to the driveway now. The diversity of fallen leaves increases daily.

Skies are still my favorite crisp blue. Saw a white roundworm in a puddle.

October 6

Saw a tree tipped with red yesterday. Can smell skunk in the woods. Field mice invading my home. Kitty had 2 last night. Virginia creeper turning red. A few trees are almost bare. Hickory nuts hang precariously in trees. They drop to the ground, crashing like mini bombs. Chipmunks and squirrels are quite active. Bees are meaner. Saw a huge fox on my way home last night. Mournful sounds in the air - owls like harbingers of bad news, coyote howls like lost souls, nervous crickets forecasting their end. Weak crane flies observed. This is the time of the spider. The beasts are becoming more competitive, more saveage, eager to protect themselves against the ravages of Winter.

October 16

The pawpaw trees/bushes are turning yellow. There are more trees crowned with yellow and red all about the countryside. Most of the fields are now harvested. Cooler temperatures, but pleasant and appropriate for Fall. Much of the undergrowth is dry and withering. Nuts continue to fall heavily. We still hear owls at night and squirrels chattering in the daytime. I've seen more beasts crossing the road - deer, possums, coons, foxes. Milkweed seeds fluff out - here they grew near the thistle patch. The woods is warm at night - warmer and stiller than the fields at night. When the wind blows from the North, we feel the "breath of the Dragon." Gleaned corn and husks (for corn dolls) from the harvested fields.

November 3

The field out back was harvested last night. It's one of the last cornfields to go. Maple trees are ablaze with yellow, some tipped with red. Not too many nuts now - they've all been "squirreled" away. Big deer tracks in the dirt lead from the woods to the field. Mornings are dark. The sun goes down about 5:30 P.M. But the stars are brilliant. Venus appears low in the west, Mars comes out low in the east. Last night, an owl hooted frantically. There are still green leaves among the yellow and brown undergrowth, usually low to the ground. Still some insects on warm days - lady beetles, yellow jackets, flies, and mosquitoes. Driveway is BEAUTIFUL, paved with fallen leaves.

Going Up

The Lord of Dragonwood sits atop the roof, resplendent in his yellow safety harness. His powerful weapon blasts nails into the endless shingles that go into covering our huge Manor. Meanwhile, down below, either Faerygirl or I peel countless cellophane strips off the backs of the next shingles to be loaded onto the scaffold. It's a tedious task, but daily we can see the fruits of our labor. Perhaps, by the end of this week, we shall have a completed roof!

I, the Lady, am also busy pulling weeds from our strawberry and perennial beds, preparing soil, and planting as much as I can. With the Lord so busy and focused on building, the garden tasks fall to me. I don't mind this at all; those of you who know me well are aware of the joy and pride I take from working my land. On sunny days, my family is seldom indoors.

Faerygirl has taken up softball, so her schedule further complicates an already busy spring season. She cheerfully helps with the shingle-stripping and gardening and by watching her brother whenever she is available. We all appreciate her for this!

Squirrelboy is living up to his busy namesake, scrambling up log piles, racing through the woods, and digging in sand and earth. He is happiest when he has spent a lot of time outdoors. He cannot get into too much trouble that way. Yesterday, he even caught a tiger beetle and brought it to show me. It was so pretty!

The spring wildflowers are up and blooming, too. Now the middle story is beginning to leaf out. Every living thing reaches for the warmth and light shining above.

Current Dispatch - End of March

Just before the rain, I managed to plant two rows of broccoli, a row of marigolds, and a row of cabbage. Let's hope the rain and slowly warming earth help them to sprout! Squirrelboy insisted on going out in the rain and jumping in puddles. Nothing is happier than a little boy getting drenched as he splashes in joy. When the soil dries out enough, I'll continue planting cabbages and some early spring herbs. I also have seeds in the freezer and refrigerator to "cold treat" and then pull out mid-April for planting.

Spring Worktime

Yellow buds swell on the spicebushes. Crocus and daffodils bloom in the formal gardens. The bees are busy visiting the tree blossoms for their pollen and nectar. Their population has exploded! We saw a pair of tiny red squirrels chasing each other last week in addition to the more common fox squirrels. A bluebird couple checks out the nesting boxes. Insects invade our house and bustle about on their own business. Many wildflowers spring from the earth. The bloodroot is blooming!

With all the warmth and business of the season, our family has much work to do: starting seeds, stripping the backing off shingles for the Lord to put up on the roof, planning gardens, planting brand new pear trees, playing in the mud if you are a Squirrelboy, climbing trees if you are a Faerygirl, building playhouses, trying to raise queens for the bees, turning the earth, digging weeds, making spring tonic from those weeds, and edging the gardens.

Close Encounters of the Crayfish Kind

As I was pulling a plastic bag from the little ditch alongside my woods, I gasped and then chuckled. Trapped inside was a curious crawdad who had probably gone in to investigate any vestiges of food that had been left behind. I shook it out gently and brought it to Squirrelboy, who was sitting jauntily in the wheelbarrow. He was a little nervous about the small "lobster" crawling around his feet and legs. But I let him know that it would not harm him as long as he was gentle and kind. Soon Faerygirl joined us, and the two children enjoyed playing with their new friend. It reminded me so much of my own childhood, growing up along a creek, and playing with the crawdads that lived there. This particular specimen was a real beauty, with shiny patterned brown carapace, soft-looking cartilage showing at the joints, and a perky demeanor. After a while, we let it go back to the ditch from whence it came. It is a wonder to me that we have crawdads in our woods, for while it is quite wet this time of year, in the late summer it becomes very dry.

I continued cleaning up the trash spread along the north side of our woods. It looked as if a bag of someone's trash had been dragged along the ditch, probably by neighboring dogs, raccoons, or other varmints. The water was cool as I poked bits of plastic out with sticks. This sort of litter I can handle; no one meant for it to be there. However, I am extremely disgruntled by the litterers who think wooded roadsides are the perfect place to toss their used cups and cigarette packages and beer bottles. In the woods to the north of us, I constantly find large piles of beer cans and liquor bottles. This troubles me, since I really don't want drunk kids messing around so close to where my children play. Often these cans have bullet holes in them. Along the west side of the woods, someone likes to drink coffee and throw their giant styrofoam cups into the brambles. It truly offends me that someone would be so discourteous. The least they could do is keep their trash inside the car until they get home.

Tasting the First Weed of Spring

I ate my first weed of the season yesterday! With the warmth and wetness, all the green things are springing from the earth. As I unloaded the groceries I saw the vibrant weeds thrusting up along the concrete pad. I greeted the dandelions with joy. I just could not resist taking a brand new leaf for a little taste. It was delightful! Soon I will be making weed salads again. In the yard, the grass and clover are greening. Little sprouts hide under the leaf mulch. And the insects are out! Our bees are doing well, and the fly family is also buzzing about. Even though I know cold weather can still visit from time to time, I believe that Spring has come at last. And did you see that Full Moon? My, she was gorgeous! It has been so exciting to watch the green returning to Dragonwood, first in the moss and lichen, now the grass...and soon it will be fresh new leaves. I know that flowers are open somewhere, probably high atop the maples, because the bees are bringing in creamy pollen in their leg baskets. If you see an insect in your own back yard, greet her for me!

Not Too Early to Work the Garden

Today I dragged Squirrelboy outside for about an hour. The air was warmer than it has been for a while, and the sky was grey. Rain hung in the wings, waiting for the right moment to begin. Cheerfully, I began tugging out the old tomato cages that had been supporting the wraiths of last year's plants. They slid easily from the muddy earth. I set my boy to picking up rocks that had been piled between the plants. He plunked a few into the bucket, but didn't stick at the job very long. He's only three, after all. Squirrelboy stood watching me vigorously dealing with the tomato cages and the vestiges of weeds surrounding the black mulchcloth. He kicked at the "bad guys", denuded stalks of broccoli, as the rain began coming down. I reached around his little body and helped him pull the bad guys from the ground. The thick stalks and kinky roots made an impressive conquest for a little fellow. By the time I finished yanking up all the leftover plants and checking to see how easy it would be to get the mulch off the ground (yes, I know, my bad for not taking care of it last year), Squirrelboy's hair was matted to his head and he was shivering. Such a little trooper! Of course we went in and had warm soup for lunch, so all was well.

Current Dispatch

The lavender and rosemary in the house seem happy. New growth greens up, and I can't wait until the days are warm enough to take them out and play. Charmer, a male cat who adopted us, keeps coming home with wounds. He fights and gets the worst of it, I'm afraid. So I'm pulling out the hydrogen peroxide and kitty antibiotics again. I've also just begun my herbalist journey, and my excitement is tempered with the knowledge that I'll be working on this for a very long time. No, that's not true...the knowledge that I'll be working on this for a very long time is exciting, too. This week...boneset and gentian, I believe. And there's lots of reading. And I have to write a paper. Yippee! I am ridiculously happy with the higher angle of the sun, an earlier sunrise, green things edging their way towards strength, a new venture, and health in the family.

Scent of Early Spring

The scents of earliest spring aren't necessarily pleasant. This morning, the smell of skunk was pungent in the wet woods. The earthy moist smell of earth pervades everywhere. Soon, I expect, we'll be scenting that unique fragrance of drowned-out worms.

And Then There Was One

Unfortunately, we lost one of our beehives over the winter. A few days ago, they were fine. But the lack of honey in the hive led to starvation. It's not uncommon, in our area, for people to lose hives this way. Still, it's sad to see the evidence of their last moments. All the bees are as deep into the comb as they can be, where they plunged in order to scrape out the last bits of honey. And then the cold got them, since they could not keep up enough energy to stay warm. We are feeding our other hive with sugar water, hoping to nurse them along until the first nectar flow. Fortunately, that comes early in the woods with the trees producing flowers and pollen long before the last of the frost season. Until then, we will hover like nervous parents, hoping that our little ladies can hang on one more year.

The sun is watery and pale,

less yellow than the small patch at the end of the driveway,

left by some dog, no doubt.

I feel clean,

cleaner than the snow scattered with leaf detritus

shaken from the quiet trees.

My cheeks hurt,

much more than a tingle because ten degrees is cold

halfway through the morning till noon.

Dragonwood in Winter

Dragonwood is a very pretty place in the winter. Last week, I took these pictures. Forgive me if the pictures are not as gorgeous as they could be. I make no claims of photographic excellence.

This first picture shows the driveway. It circles around this clump of trees and brush and grapevines. Some of the smaller trees are pawpaws. We eat the fruit, which tastes of apple custard, in September.

Let's head out to the back yard. We're following a rabbit trail through the deep snow. Look at how much snow is mounded up on the torches and the birdhouses!

Weeds. Call them what you like, but I call them beautiful.

Faerygirl and Squirrelboy enjoy playing together on a Snow Day!

Here's a little story for those that can read it. On the top is a close up of some interesting marks I found in the snow. On the bottom is a broader picture. The tracks start in the tree shadow and culminate in the marks that are featured in the closeup. See if you can tell what happened! I'll answer your guesses in the "comments" on this post.

Finally, here is a picture of Dragonwood from the back yard. You can catch a little peek at the Manor, which is currently under construction. I am purposely not posting pictures of the Manor House yet, because I intend to post Dispatches about the earlier stages first.

Current Dispatch

Drip, drip, drip...That's the sound of snow melting here in Dragonwood. It's warm, comparatively, at about 40 degrees Fahrenheit this afternoon. Squirrelboy had fun jumping in puddles. Although it is hard midwinter, I am always amazed by the amount of green just hiding under the snow. It seems flax rather likes the cool weather, as it appears to be thriving. Many of the "weedy" broadleafed plants in the yard also turn green at the slightest provocation. The insects are still sleeping, though, and I miss them. I hope the bees are all right. Faerygirl has been fighting a fever, but is slowly recuperating. The Lord of Dragonwood is working on the roof, clambering about and finishing the last tasks needed to enclose the Manor.

The Dragon

She is Real, you know. Nearly everyone we have invited to our land has seen her.

I first became aware of the Dragon through intuition. Since the Lord and I previously dwelt where copious amounts of rainfall could cause problems, I took a drive out to Dragonwood after a large rain. Our current backyard was a river, and it was of utmost concern to check how our new land fared. Fortunately, although it parts of our property are wetland woods, the area where we planned to build our home was dry. I drove on by, relieved and ready to keep moving on to visit my nephew on his birthday.

Suddenly, unbidden, an image flashed into my mind's eye. It was a red animal, a salamander or lizardlike creature. Such a brilliant red! I let myself picture the beast with pleasure as I drove along. How shocked I was, when I stopped to pick up a ball for my nephew, to find a huge red lizard/salamander stuffed toy in this small drugstore. It was exactly like the creature of my imagination! Of course I picked it up, and it haunts the back of my couch to this day.

However, the real manifestation of the Dragon was still to be discovered.


One day, fully exploring the land we had purchased, all of us stood still in wonder. Faerygirl, the Lady, and the Lord each saw Her. She stood, mighty and tall at the edge of the wetlands. Her great mouth gaped wide enough to engulf a man's arm, her large eye seemed to stare right at us, and her nostril flared. Smoke streamed upwards, and her thick horns stuck out behind. I loved her immediately and went right up to her. She was definitely the Guardian of our land, whose presence I had felt from the beginning. Who could now deny that ours was an Enchanted Forest?

Over the years, many have come to visit the Dragon. Some bring her gifts, some speak to her or embrace her, some merely laugh in wonder. Sadly, the tree in which she manifested did decay last winter, and the Dragon lay on the ground. But never fear! My heroic Knight, the Lord of Dragonwood, rescued her with his White Avalanche. Now she waits her magnificent return, drying and dreaming in the garage, until the Manor is built and she may grace its entry.


When she is in residence once again, feel free to bring her a gift! And remember to respect the woods, and all that dwell within it, for this place is the home of a True Dragon.