land

Late July Into August

The Ascent of Maclura pomifera

Spiral stair in Hedge (Maclura pomifera, bodark, bois d’ark, osage orange). Designed by my friend Cody to join a 100 year old barn basement to the floor above. The barn, just outside of Fall River, got hit by a twister about 4-5 years ago and is now being rebuilt as a workshop and living quarters. The stair isn’t officially finished, we already have a list of things we want to change, but this is it in it’s first state.

Wet!

A thing it is not often during the month of August in Kansas, especially the past few years.

I am not the only one enjoying the saturated ground.

Out on a Limb

I am stepping out on a limb. This time it is about the song. I have no realistic aims at professional musicianship. I tend towards the traditions where music was a social or intimate art form practiced by amateurs who spent more time in the dirt than the conservatory. That maybe a justification for a poorer quality than what is available, so be it, but it seems important to share a little more than just fragments. The song is called Good Father.

The drawings are for Rima, Thank you for the honor.

Out on a Limb

Not One Bone Was Broken

Faun

Prairie Chicken

On the Passing of the Age of Thor

He showed up one day at my dad’s place. We did our diligence, but couldn’t track anyone down so we took him to our place, my wife and I. He had four legs then. Thor seemed like a good name….

I always go in for ironic dog names, but he lived up to his in chutzpah, if not wisdom. He lost his leg to a 3/4 ton diesel pulling a double axle. I thought it might cure him- slow him down a little, but those diesels pulling trailers became his white whale. And he was darn near as fast on 3 than 4. Lifting his leg presented a challenge, until he realized it wasn’t there. Sometimes he just had to lift the left one though and he’d balance on the two front ones.

He made his mark in the world. He was a pain in the ass, he barked at everything, pissed on everything, chased everything (excepting chickens- a mean old rooster broke that habit pretty early)…

The hen’s wouldn’t let him forget even after that rooster earned himself the soup-pot.

True to his kind, he always had to be where I was -unless there was something better going on…

The coyotes are bad here, like most places in Kansas. Usually they go after my hens, and Thor was smart enough to stay away- just made noise at them. A whole bunch were real close for a few nights- carrying on at night like they do. They must have been too much to resist. The next day doing the early morning rounds, he wasn’t there. You get the picture. It is still a bit of a mystery- he left like he came- but I’ll remember him going in thinking he could lick the whole bunch.

A lot of my neighbors had cause to maybe dance a little at the passing of the fierce defender of 100 yards of compacted gravel. However, a fair number a coyotes have died since Thor went out. Not me, I’m not much of a killer, thought not for lack of trying. My neighbors are better shots than I, and I usually recieve a picture message of a dead Canis latrans.

My good friend Mike Schultz wrote and recorded this little song after living with us and Thor for a time. He sent it to me just the other day and it made this post worth writing. Have a listen… Thor!