The Exact Speed of Life

"Love you brother; but A.I. has flagged me as a Conservationist and now I'm worried that my contacts will be investigated. You may want to unfriend me."

This is an actual text that I sent out; and it occurred to me while sending it, that I am a Baby Boomer;  and those of us who are Boomers have actually survived in a world where social media, indeed the entire world wide web, did not exist.  

Faster than one fifteen cent stamp and a white envelope stuffed, licked and dropped into the corner mailbox, I received his response, "No, I'm willing to be labeled as a Conservationist if that's what it takes to be your friend." 

"Nobody seems to take the time to capture the beauty of dormancy" a stranger commented online. And I thought it to be a completely relatable comment had it been made in the Wildflowers of Vermont online group. Instead, the comment was made in response to a current events news article; and with her comment a curiosity beckoned. 

Where and how do we store the important stuff? 

I don't know about my readers; but I have thousands of pictures on my phone, hundreds dropped into a birthday gift bag in a closet, 17 photo albums, a sideboard's drawers filled and even more in frames on our walls and on C.Ds and S.Ds. I have duplicates of those very same photos on social media sites and pictures that serendipitously appear in my kitchen on an electronic frame.

I took this picture on January 10th of black walnuts in a yard on Pond road. A classic isn't it? A beautifully captured moment when autumn nuts are just waiting there to be collected and stored by squirrels for survival during the long fruitless months of dormancy.  

Hold on, I'm almost certain that I have one of acorns too!

Ahh here it is! Remarkable isn't it? Taken in October, 2024 at Lillis Pasture. I'm so glad that I didn't delete it! 

 

A little known fact, "gray squirrels engage in deceptive caching...they do this to fool other squirrels who might be watching" Any nut that isn't sniffed out and consumed by those bird feeder pirates, has a very real chance of becoming a nut bearing tree. Do you suppose all of those things I misplaced and never found over the years are now...never mind. 

I'm particularly fond of this latest Jan. 18th  photograph I collected. It was taken on the edge of a farm field and right were the woods start on Governor Hunt road. Tucked in under the snow and last summer's leaves, the fern waits out the winter.

 

I think that winter is a good time to see that life doesn't happen at the speed of the internet. The internet  as it turns out, is actually is following life. Slower than real life, it is a trial of collected information, admired, shared and stored. 

 It has taken over 60 years to collect and oddly store my photographs. Wayne inherited someone else's nail, screw, bolt collection when we moved to Vernon and added theirs to his own. Trust me when I say that as the years have passed, he has not hesitated in adding more. The interesting thing is that when asked, he more than likely will be able to tell you for which project the fastener was acquired. Even more impressive, when challenged with a to do list, Wayne retrieves those old fasteners to uses them on his new project. Collecting, possessing and utilizing tangible storage is an incredible skill us Boomers have.

Nature, when given the chance does the same. Below the frozen cover of its collections is maybe less accurately described as dormancy. Maybe it's just life traveling at the speed of life. 

Roots still intertwine and anchor the forest to the floor,

Water creates ice and fish swim beneath it at Lily pond,

The buttonbush swamp already has its leaf buds and its sap is there too.

Seeds are planted with everything they need to be.

And on each day the Earth spins from one day to the next if only we allow it to

at the exact speed of life. ~ Norma Manning

The 12 Gifts of Vernon challenge

 For my readers seeking the challenge, you will find it at the bottom of this post. 

Yes, that's me

 Denny once asked why it is that I walk with my hands clinched in a fist. If I recall correctly it went more like, "Norma, who are you going to fight?" Now I'm positive that Denny is the kind of guy who without question, would back me up in a fight; but being that we were in elementary school hallway, questions were asked. I was so struck by the inquiry that I still remember lifting my hands to see what the heck he was talking about. From that day on, I first concentrated on relaxing one hand when in the hallway and then the second after I mastered the first. Transferring that new skill out of the hallway and into retirement, clearly has been unsuccessful. 

Perhaps being prepared for a fight is a learned behavior from growing up with three brothers. Maybe for survival we find a way to substitute one behavior for another; like how Dr. Heydinger suggested that I sleep with a mouthguard, "Could you try yelling instead of clinching your jaw?"  Let's just say that Wayne wasn't really ready for that. 

A gray fox has learned to scavenge for rodents beneath our birdfeeder.

I've lately been chatting with deer hunters here in Vernon and apart from my seeing the thickest whitetail antler beam I have ever seen in the back of a pickup on 142, most of what I am hearing is that it has been a tough year for hunting. Dry and loud ground cover, too many acorns, warm temps and no snow are the reasons given for their lack of success. 

Sled dogs without snow, train along the Hinsdale rail trail

A muskrat hole in thin river ice 

Understanding the nuances of muskrat behavior, Kirk pointed out a notch next to a castor pile on the bank across from the hole in the ice. "You better keep Esther on a tight leash. If I were trapping, I would set my trap in the water right here at this notch." Trappers alternate trap locations and Kirk soon found a second promising notch.  

The reactor building is one of the last remaining structures left to be razed on the VY site. In a short time Vernon will be offered an opportunity to comment on what should be considered and how we would like the site to be redeveloped. 

On the Hinsdale side, staging in preparation of another project 

Some finds are harder to explain 

 

Like how the lure and a fish ended up on opposite of each other on either side of the path

And why when it finally did snow, I couldn't start our snow thrower

I've been wondering lately why wildlife visits to my yard have dropped off. I haven't caught a bear or deer on my game cam since last spring. Truthfully, I have been grateful that the bears haven't been visiting as I am hopeful that the neighborhood has figured out how to stop feeding them. But I also miss the bobcats and skunks that eat the mice that chew on my machinery in the shed. I am down to one fox, an opossum, a racoon, two rabbits and a thousand grey squirrels caught on camera. Still, in spite of my own wants, I find myself asking what might have changed enough out there, natural or otherwise, to cause the numbers to decline so suddenly here. 

A rather portly racoon dropped in on the same night as the fox

 

VT River Steward Kathy Urffer demonstrates the CT River Conservancy's Enviroscape model.

 In between Kathy's demonstrations on what people put onto the land and how it can make its way into the CT river, I took the opportunity to speak with her about an ancient fish recently discovered here. I didn't know it; but I was about learn some of the complications of advocating for a system that doesn't have a human's voice. It is the stewards job to speak for the river. 

 For over a decade, Kathy and team have been preparing for the owners of five hydroelectric dams along this stretch of the river to submit their applications for 50 year operating licenses. Figuratively speaking, Kathy has been getting ready for a fight while making plans to avoid one.  As VT steward, Kathy seeks to understand what the needs of the river are as well as the needs of the communities along the river. She seeks to understand what is currently within the river's system, what requires protection, what requires restoration and she helps coordinate a plan for getting the river to a place of greater functional biodiversity... all of this while acknowledging our need to put the river to work.  

A wildlife path between land and open water

So what happens when reports of  shortnose sturgeon living between the Turners Falls dam and the Bellows Falls dam begin to filter in just about when the applications and comments on those applications are due to be filed?

Kathy explained that a population of  shortnose sturgeon lives south of the Holyoke dam. This population of fish is capable of surviving in brackish water. The Holyoke dam has a fish elevator up to the next segment of the river which is freshwater. The next obstacle upriver is the Turners Falls dam with its canal and ladder system. It is believed that fish ladders are not suitable for sturgeon to pass and because of this the thought is that there may be a separate population between Turners Falls and Vernon and yet another separate population between here and Bellows Falls. The CRC confirmed that sturgeon are in these isolated stretches by taking water samples at the river bottom and testing for sturgeon DNA

Our journey from Hinsdale to Vernon began and ended with planned infrastructure. 

What is not known is: where the sturgeon originated, how big the populations are, if the long lived fish are reproducing, if the separate populations are capable of reproducing with each other, could they have always been here and gone undetected... I asked Kathy if it is possible that the sturgeon here are a separate genetic population than below Holyoke. They don't know yet.  

Now that the CRC has confirmed that we have sturgeon here, the next step is to file for protection of the population with the state and then build a plan to conserve the population with an eye towards providing a path for resiliency. When planning for 50 year increments, it's important to have as many pieces in place as possible before all aspects of the licenses are approved. I will say this again, it's vital to provide for functional diversity when altering the environment. We must build a pathway into the plans.

VT Conservation Planning Biologist Jens Hilke explained to me during a wildlife corridor meeting, that it takes three to five years for wildlife to change their behavior in terms of when corridors are altered or relocated. A study in the northern part of the state along I-91 showed that populations of wildlife travel up and down the sides of the interstate in that area with very few successfully crossing. Without planning for corridors, the genetic dynamics of these separated populations will express limited variations making it increasingly difficult for them to adapt to environmental challenges. 

It's a good thing that a new bridge has been built further north, or we might have had to adapt to chilly water. 

The Twelve Gifts of Vernon Challenge

And so in the spirit of the season, I ask my readers to focus on the first step of Conservation,  discovering what already exists in their neck of Vernon. I propose that we do so by filling in the verses of an old favorite, The Twelve Days of Christmas in a slightly different way. For Example, I am beginning my version here and now with: On the first day of Christmas, Vernon gave to me one red bellied wood pecker pecking on a tree. 

I am not admitting to cheating  or anything; but I suspect that my twelfth day discovery will have something to do with grey squirrels    -Norma Manning

Further reading:

New England Senators Call For Investment in Conte Refuge

Species and Specification Khan Academy 

 

Wildlife crossing to connect the Green Mountains moves forward VT Digger (2023)

Reconnecting the Green Mountains YouTube video, 2024 Fish and Wildlife webinar

What Are You Smoking?

 

A lead from the old Wolf Pine lays across the town forest floor

Warning: I'm about to throw a whole lot of thoughts into a 50 gallon drum and I'm thinkin I might light it on fire. Certain professions sometimes call what I'm about to do the "trash can method."(minus the match).

I was a lifeguard and Water Safety Instructor in the summer of 1981.  I miss those carefree days when at 17 years of age, I thought of myself as old enough to be an adult yet young enough to ignore most of the pressures of life. Interestingly enough, I had only just moved to VT from Colorado Springs that June with my senior year of high school still ahead of me.

 I spent my days biking to and from work, training lifeguards and blowing bubbles with the Fishers. I often walked with mom to the general store to read the bulletin board news and then on to the post office for the mail. On Thursdays I played softball, but all the other days I went for a bike ride after supper; and most importantly, Vicki, Ducky and I became friends swimming laps and hanging out on the sandy beach at the Saxtons River Rec.   

How ironic that my brother Charles declared that same summer of  81, "The Summer That Never Was."  I suspect my disconnect is what long timers refer to as the good old days. Days when the simplicity of youth is stored in our memories and those of hardship fade away.  Or could it be that thoughts of  what defined prosperity as a youth were based on something more meaningful than consumption? 

In 1980 Mt Saint Helens in Washington state passed gas. Those who study such things labeled her breach of etiquette, a "cataclysmic eruption." For my younger readers, it's probably easier to relate to the the Canadian wildfires that blew smoke down into Vernon creating a sun filtering haze or perhaps that few minutes during the eclipse that chilled the air and darkened the sky.  And so during that following summer, the one that wasn't, we purchased lifeguard sweats and kept our sleeping bags at hand to keep us warm after teaching lessons. 

Smoke from the Canadian wildfires settles in the hills of Vernon

 I've since discovered that Charles' clever label was already put into use on our east coast after the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia. 

Let's stretch back a little farther shall we? Ahh the 70's Though I was little at the start, some things I remember well. In Burlington, when we weren't walking to and from school and friend's houses, Mom drove us around in her first car, a secondhand white Oldsmobile Cutlass. Dad for his part, drove a full sized green Dodge van with a custom built storage area in the far back that had a kid sized bed above it.  I remember him to be a chain smoker. Dad smoked cigarettes in the house in the car, at work, outdoors and pretty much everywhere else. Our smoke filled clothes must have stunk something awful; but nobody seemed to notice because practically everybody else had a smoker at home or at work.  There was one big hitch to his addiction however, my mom was a chronic asthmatic. 

Our family did a fair amount of camping back then complete with tent and campfires. On our black and white tv set, we had Woodsy Owl and an  Indian with a tear streaked face asking that we do our part to keep America beautiful. But more impactful to my mind than those icons, was my dad telling us as we broke camp, that we should always leave a place better than when we found it. So it was, that us five kids dutifully policed the campsite for cigarette butts as our last act of enjoying the great outdoors. 

A burn ban due to drought in effect since October, has freed the neighborhood up from the constant autumn smoke

I hate to say this, but I fear I must stretch back even farther than the 70s but I promise we wont stay long.

 

In 1948 post World War 2, the Marshall Plan was signed and the US experienced a surge of industrial development and consumerism, beginning an economic period known as "the long summer of  prosperity"

In October of 1948, the industrial town Donora Pennsylvania was overwhelmed with smog, killing twenty people. Half of the town fell ill from air pollution and death rates were higher than normal in the following years.  1948 was indeed the start of an economic golden age; but at great cost to human and environmental health- The Deadly Donora Smog This event provided a boost in urgency for the fields of public and environmental health. 

The 1950's Vernon had a population of 712 residents. The US had 5,382,162 farms covering 60% of US land. 30 to 39% of Vernon farms were Woodland Not Pastured as a percent of all land in farms.  I strongly encourage my readers to explore this 1950 graphic summary of farm resources I suspect that the economics of farming in Vernon has changed quite a bit as our population and land use also changed . What hasn't changed is my persistent childhood dream of  living on a mini farm. Ahh, but we really should resume our journey forward.  

A nest sits empty in a budding Magnolia  bush on November 15th in Vernon

1962 Silent Spring, arguably the most consequential book on environmental toxins was published by Rachel Carson. Carson's book was in response to the widespread collapse of bird populations due to the application of insecticides such as DDT. In the 2000sVermont Yankee became  well known for hosting Peregrine falcon nests on a platform installed on their stack. These birds once in jeopardy of extinction due to DDT, have maintained a strong population in VT since 1991. The passage of The Endangered Species Act (1973) is credited with saving these birds and others such as the Bald Eagle. 

In 1970 the Clean Air Act became law.

In 1972 the Clean Water Act (as its known now) of 1948 was amended. The act was originally passed to clean up polluted water caused by the post WW2 industrial expansion. Oil and chemical slicks on rivers were catching fire and our rivers were near death's door utilized more for waste discharge than for recreation.  Today, Wayne who grew up in Bellows Falls, still refuses to swim in the CT River even though it tests safe for swimming below the Vernon Dam.  

In 1972, Vermont Yankee Nuclear Power Station came online and with it Vernon grew in population and Grand List. In 1970 our population was 1024, in 1980 it was 1175 and in 2020 we were at 2192 residents.

In 1973 the Arab Oil Embargo began and "the long summer of prosperity" ended.  I was a proud member of our neighborhood's bicycle gang and dad was home since 72  from his second tour in Vietnam. .

In 1977 Jimmy Carter, a farmer from Georgia, was elected President and let me tell you, my dad for the life of him refused to wrap his head around Jimmy's humanitarian and environmentally conscientious leadership.

Three stones stand upright in the town forest reminding me of the three principals of Conservation Biology.  

Now to my mind, these were funny times and I get muddled about the year but not the events.  Dad had sold the van and had since been driving a maroon with white top 8 cylinder Chevy Camaro and Mom drove, a nine passenger Chevy Suburban. But with the embargo and climbing fuel prices, our family like many large families, found ourselves on a steep learning curve.  Reducing consumption was not only for economic purposes; but it was the patriotic thing to do. And so it was that dad's Camaro fell victim to modern day pressures.  My parents replaced that muscle machine with a sewing machine (Mazda GLC) in which I learned to drive. 

In 1978, Dad at age 40, quit smoking cold turkey on the Nations first Smoke-out day ending his habit of 24 years. Dad lived into his 80s. His cause of death is listed as complications from Agent Orange exposure.

In 1979 President Carter had solar panels installed on the roof of the White House.  Dad was livid; but I thought it was pretty cool. 

The summer of 1980, I landed my first real job with the United States Youth Conservation Corps in Grand Mesa Colorado. 

I promised you a trash can dumping perhaps short of the match. and that is what you have been given. It may seem like I have packed the can full; but keep in mind that I never included the Acid Rain years nor explained that even with international laws in place to reduce acid rain, Vermont suing midwestern coal companies and ensuing laws to scrub emissions that resulted in significant reductions, Vernon still lies smack in the path of  the airstream that delivers acid rain to our ponds, streams and maple trees. I hadn't thought about acid rain in years; but during the planning process for the five year Deerfield River Watershed clean water plan, it was brought up in connection to Lily pond and how, due in part to acid rain, that pond will likely remain acidic. 

Through all of this; we as a country have been innovative in our ways to return to the ideas of great conservation visionaries like Theodor Roosevelt, George Perkins Marsh, Fredrick Billings, John Muir and Laurence Rockefeller. Through times of adversity and economic prosperity, haven't we learned from our common experiences? Haven't we moved forward, by protecting more lands, developing cleaner ways generate energy, smarter cars and appliances, efficient buildings, safer chemicals and practices? Or could this be nothing more than my childhood optimism creeping back in, as clearly we have much work ahead of us. After all, didn't I come up with the title for this submission when I was asked, "What have you been smoking" in reply to  my concerns for losing our hard fought for environmental protections. I must ask my readers, even if you don't believe that climate change is caused by man, don't you want green mountains, clean safe air to breath and drinkable water?

 - Norma Manning

Further reading:

Our Nation's Air Trends through 2021 : This EPA report speaks to the lives saved and extended since the Clean Air Act went into effect. It reads in part, "Since 1970 , implementation of the Clean Air Act and Technological advances from American innovators have dramatically improved air quality in the U.S. Since that time, the combined emissions of criteria and precursor pollutants have dropped by 78%" Also noted that we achieved cleaner air while sustaining  economic growth.

Southern Vermont CEDS : A comprehensive Economic Development Strategy for Bennington and Windham Regions.

Do Not Eat Wildlife Consumption Advisory Maine Department of Fisheries and Wildlife: possible PFA contamination in Deer and Turkey, NH and Vermont has since issued warnings as well, though no contamination has been detected in VT to date. . 

A new Symbol of Vernon the Florida Alligator

The Hermit Thrush has been an official symbol of Vermont since 1941 when naturalists prevailed over legislators who were divided between the crow and blue jay. Naturalists versus politicians, now there is an argument that we can all relate to during election season. While I like the intelligent glossy black crow and alarmist blue jay, the hermit thrush with its strong defense of "home" seems to have been a fine choice for these Green Mountains. Stable in population, these seasonal birds adapt well to a variety of forested lands and woodland edges, nesting low to the ground near sources of water. All of this seems promising for a novice like myself to cross paths with Hermit Thrush; and yet this is the first one that I have seen up close in my many in years of hiking the woods and swamps of Vernon.

Imagine my pause as I stepped onto our deck and spied the brown bird lying beneath our window. Perhaps a Walmart sparrow (European House sparrow) should have fist come to mind; but I wondered if I was looking at brown oak leaves blown over from Jim's collection. I suppose it must have been denial at first glance. What after all, are the chances that such a bird would still be hanging around in Vernon on Halloween day, even if it is just shy of eighty degrees out? 

I can't be sure of why this little bird died; and while I do have my suspicions, I think its important to note that: in addition to natural causes like predation and disease,  building collisions kill more than a billion birds in the U.S. each year.-American Bird Conservancy and outdoor cats kill around 2.4 billion birds- Cats indoors. Habitat loss, climate change, human wildlife conflict and environmental toxins are also contributors to bird mortality. 

Survival by Degrees is an interactive publication by the Audubon Society where readers can explore how climate change will affect the vulnerability of  birds by state as well as Mexico and Canada. This article lists Vermont as having 42 highly vulnerable species, 52 moderately vulnerable, 29 with low vulnerability and 45 stable species. Select your favorite bird and the site takes you to specific information on it. While I should feel a certain measure of comfort that the scrappy adaptive Hermit thrush rates in the least concern category, it doesn't escape my attention that he was on the verge of overstaying his seasonal residency while Vernon achieved record temperatures for October.  

 

A neighbor stopped to chat with me on my walk this afternoon and while we caught up, Esther kept nosing at her hand which held another adaptive species and our state flower, the VT red clover. Peak blooming in VT is in May and June with late September being on the outer edge of its blooming season.

Lorien's find got me to thinking about the purple lilac that Wayne's grandmother divided from her own heritage bush in 1991. We planted it at our first home in Hinsdale and then brought a piece of it to Vernon when we moved here. This spring it bloomed beautifully before losing all of its leaves by August. In late September its leaves started to bud out again. In October, we have had frosts, our first snow flurries, temperatures in the upper 70s and a blooming lilac. 

The trees are mostly bare, with the exception of a sugar maple out back. Red fruit adorns our viburnums, hollies and crabapple; but our hollies are also sporadically blooming along with blackberries, rudbeckia and sedum This just seems odd, but its not the first time in recent years that the seasons seem a bit catawampus.

Unlike more generalist species such as the hermit thrush and red clover, our state tree the sugar maple is a specialist . With Vernon being the south eastern most town in Vermont and "Vermont being among the fastest warming states" and with syrup production being frost driven, Vernon's maple syrup revenue is in jeopardy. Audubon Vermont has published a comprehensive easy to understand explanation of the impact of Climate Change on maples and the maple syrup industry The End Of Maple? 

November 1st with temperatures in the 70s

Today as Wayne and I were traveling through Westminster, we decided to visit the wetlands behind Allen Brothers. Typically when we stop at Allen Brothers, it is to browse their nursery stock searching for bargains on native plants; but the flowers, shrubs and trees are long since depleted in September. 

 Here in the pond on the very outside of their traditional start of brumation, we found another Vermont symbol, the Painted turtle. If turtles basking on logs in November isn't weird enough, a large frog hopped across the dirt road traveling between ponds while a dragonfly rested on my arm. 

In 2019, Iowa State University published research by Biologist Nicole Valenzuela. The article, Climate change could devastate painted Turtles,  notes that,  "Painted turtles undergo temperature -dependent sex determination while developing inside the egg. Eggs exposed to warmer temperatures tend to produce females, while cooler temperatures tend to produce males.

The publication further explains that with wider temperature swings, turtles and other amphibians may experience population collapse due to unbalanced female to male ratios.

November 2nd, with high temperatures in the 50 and lows in the 20s

In addition to my regular Vernon Conservation Commission meetings, I have been attending a lot of other meetings: CT River Conservancy meetings on dam relicensing, Vernon Hazard Mitigation planning, Vermont Environmental law implementation planning for Act 59, Basin 12 / Deerfield Watershed clean water planning, and most recently Reconnecting the Green Mountains: A multi-pronged approach for enabling wildlife movement hosted by VT Conservation Planner Jens Hilke and Biologist for the Vermont Agency of Transportation Jessie Johnson.

With each meeting I attended, the notion kept coming back to me that each of these projects are seemingly operating in isolation  and yet they were assuredly interconnected, the same in a sense as gazing at a brown object on my deck, my brain trying to make sense of it, the mystery of what I am looking at, what brings it to my backyard, how it fits into what I experience and know and then contemplating how it is I was going to interact with it. Is it any wonder I don't seep soundly at night?

I'm not super human or anything, just an overly curious well meaning volunteer who drifts off at meetings like the rest of you. My notes from Hilke and Johnson's meeting reads something like this: connected, connectivity, Bio Finder, movement west to east & south to north, connectivity scale, wildlife movement, climate change, NE pinch point, barrier effect, gene flow restriction, NRI, expand to connect, land use planning, transportation component...

As you can see, I take very detailed self explanatory notes; but my big takeaway is the moving map of points of light showing wildlife migration as they sweep across North America in a wide swath from west and south. These points of light and bands are growing more narrow and become more concentrated as they squeeze through NE. Vermont funnels migratory animals up into Canada where they are greeted with predominantly agricultural treeless lands. 

A fisherman fishes for alligator at Lily pond in Vernon on a warm day in November.

And here my friends is the other shoe you have been so patiently waiting to hear drop.  Climate change with it's rising temperatures is causing wildlife's traditional ranges to expand northerly at a rate of one mile per year. This means that long time Vernon Vermonters who traditionally scorn everything Massachusetts, are already living in a Massachusetts climate. Invasive species that out compete and damage our native wildlife are surviving our warmer winters and our  native wildlife vulnerable to climate change must move northerly if they are going to survive. In their way are, fragmented wetlands, fragmented forestlands, man's infrastructure, ever decreasing recourses and dwindling genetic diversity.  

I think my mother summed it up best when she asked me, "How are alligators going to get to Vermont?" -Norma Manning 

Recovery, Esther and Rambling Onward

 First I should acknowledge that I owe my readers an apology for my absence from this forum. I have been recovering from an injury for some time which has kept me out of the very woods of which I am so terribly fond.  Not many weeks ago I came to the conclusion that my self prescribed cane, while keeping me upright, wasn't assisting me whatsoever in my recovery. So if you by chance find me clinging to an oak on the trail or perhaps in the prone position along one of our lovely roadways, do stop and inquire as to what I am up to. 

As those of you within shouting (or baying) distance of our home have certainly become aware, the neighborhood and indeed beyond has fallen into more peaceful times. Wayne and I lost our Coonhound hiking companion Luna who has been laid to rest among my favorite flowers. I still at times tell Luna to get out of my daylilies in the same aggravated voice, though I know that in them she must remain.  Luna along with her much smaller friend Ginny were together by our side for many a wild adventure throughout the hills of Vernon and are featured in many of our past Nature Finds posts. Happy trails my sweet girl.

"I'm going out to clean the pasture spring:

I'll only stop to rake the leaves away

(And wait to watch the water clear, I may);

I sha' n't be gone long.- You come too."

Robert Frost; The Pasture

Because there are many more adventures ahead, I would like to introduce to my readers our newest hiking partner in training - Esther.

Esther is our southern bell from Georgia who came to us by way of Next Stop Forever Inc. Wayne and I together have loved five pups before adopting Esther (Luna came from MHS).  Over our dog loving years, Wayne and I have come to the conclusion that mutts and previously owned dogs are as easily loved as purebreds. Esther is nearly a year old and is a mix of: Poodle, Golden Retriever, Labrador Retriever, Pit Bull, Rottweiler, Staffordshire Terrier, Samoyed and Chihuahua. We know this because Wayne insisted that she was schnauzer while I insisted on poodle and I rarely back down from a bet.    

Georgia being included with the list of states impacted by the disaster Hurricane Helene and being Esther's former home state,  I request that you keep the people, wildlife and pets of those states now in recovery among your intentions. I have lived in Georgia, Florida and South Carolina, they are beautiful places with good humans. -Norma Manning 

2024 The Year of Blackberries

 In 2023 I discovered quite unexpectedly, that I had morphed into a childhood memory that every adult seems to have of a neighborhood curmudgeon. One minute I was seeding and tending to wild flowers for the neighborhood's inhabitants to enjoy and the next, I was admonishing a family for gathering them in. I never wanted to be that person, my Mrs... what was her name again? The one who would spray us with her garden hose while warning our parents "would be awfully upset that we had gotten so very wet." Ahh but didn't we tease her just a bit with a game of we dare you to? 

As I grow older, these memories of my five year old self, tug at my sleeve like wild blackberries growing along the edges of farm fields. Isn't it odd I wonder, now just shy of my 60th birthday, how we forget the importance of choosing blackberries over roses? 

I hadn't always thought about blackberries with their snags and long scratches. It was Wayne upon moving to our first home in Hinsdale, who decided that we should allow for a patch of his childhood memories with his grandmother to remain in a what had seemingly been an acre of hopeless bramble. I grew to love that patch with its fragrant white flowers, even as it reached out to snatch at my hair when I drove the lawnmower past. I hadn't known it yet, but allowing for and providing for something to remain is the taproot of  conservation. 

Yes, where were we now? Curmudgeon, that's right. It was after I was not so neighborly and Wayne had given me a fair amount of space, that Wayne reminded me of a time when we were dating that he had stopped by the side of the road between BF and Westminster to pick me a bouquet of wildflowers. Why hadn't the farmer been aggravated by my picking his blackberries?  Hadn't the farmer made a plan for them? Why did our neighbor spray us for walking on her lawn? The very next time I ran into those children, we all apologized and I confessed my embarrassment at my behavior.

I rediscovered this Autumn that pollinators aren't the only ones that benefit from the wild blackberry patch that we maintain on our acre here in Vernon. I always tell Wayne to eat the berries along the edges but leave the ones in the middle for the birds. Wayne's favorite flavor is blackberry ice-cream so this is no small ask. I guess what I am saying here is this, we maintain our blackberry patch with intention. None the less, I was surprised one evening when I walked right up on an unconcerned porcupine slowly pulling down canes in order to munch on blackberry leaves. Later while reviewing my game camera images, I found a pair of deer dining on blackberry leaves. I even felt a sense of blessing to find a picture of a deer bedding down next to that very patch. 

I was super excited to share this find with Seth who spends a great deal of time scouting for wildlife here in Vernon. Seth's response, "I'm not surprised." That's okay Seth, your day will come.

I wish for Vernon in the new year and into all the years to come, a year of blackberries...No not quite, my resolution goes something like this: Only a few short weeks after my curmudgeon mistake, another group of almost teenage girls came by and greeted me as I was pruning back the very same wildflowers. I offered to let them cut their own bouquets from anywhere in my yard and handed over my pruners. When one of the girls came to return the pruners, they expressed to me a thank you and let me know that they were going to "place them on my grandmother's"...that's when her words failed her. I offered her the words she was was trying to find, "final resting place." She nodded and thanked me again. And so my dear Vernon, my resolution is to help replenish this town in such a way that it is filled with wild blackberries. -Norma Manning