Growing Grass on a Rock

When we first moved to the mountain after living at the beach in Florida, I was fascinated by the wild and natural state of our new surroundings. But as we began to make improvements - clearing the underlying brush, cutting all low tree limbs, etc. - I began to miss having a lawn.

I mentioned this to my dad on several occasions over the years, but he always gave me the same condescending smile and said "You can't grow grass on rock". Which was true.....if you weren't looking down at rock, it was lurking just below the surface. But I never quit thinking about a lush green lawn beneath my feet.

Then, six years later and four weeks ago when the first hint of fall crept into the air, I began to buy rye grass seed, 50 pounds at a time. Every afternoon, I would set out on foot, broadcasting the seed - by hand - throughout the clearing around the house. Occasionally, I would see my husband on the porch, watching me and shaking his head as he has done so many times over the years when I pursued one of my (MANY) silly ideas. But he indulged my foolishness, as he has always done, thinking it was better to let me learn for myself than to point out my folly.

But a week into my endeavor, something miraculous happened. It was one of those things that can only happen in nature and is far greater than anything mere humans can control. IT BEGAN TO RAIN! But this rain was not just a couple of afternoon showers. It was day after day of beautiful soft soaking misty rain like an enormous expensive shower head on the perfect setting. This was my sign! My tiny grass seed would have the water it needed to grow that I had no way to provide otherwise.

So, each day for the past three weeks, in the rain, I have been out spreading grass seed. As of this afternoon, 400 pounds of it to be exact! I am sure I resemble some sort of itinerant farmer, straight off the pages of the Grapes of Wrath, walking up and down the hills in my muck boots and rain slicker, carrying the heaviest pail I can manage.

But as the rains kept coming and the days passed and I began to see the fine green strands, peeking through the rocks, those trips up and down the hills felt less tedious and my pail of precious seeds less cumbersome.

And last week when my husband looked out over the mountainside that I fondly call my "yard" and said "Well, I'll be..... Looks like you did it!", I felt vindicated.

I only wish I had a way to show my dad that with a little help from a force far greater than ourselves, we really can grow grass on a rock!

Wonders in the Woods

One day, about five years ago, Dennis was working in the woods above our house when he looked down and saw a vaguely familiar shape. Curious, he began to clear leaves, brush and dirt from the rock and the more he cleared, the more a distinct outline began to materialize. He carefully dug the rock out of the ground, and hauled it down the mountain on an old tire attached to the back of his Rhino by a chain.
This rock has NOT been chiseled or enhanced or altered in any way whatsoever.
We think he is a beautiful tribute to "Man's Best Friend" and hope we have found an appropriate place of prominence for this natural work of art.

Nature Versus Man

We are still in monsoon season up here on the mountain, and most of our outdoor work has been halted or hindered by the water.

While we are looking for indoor projects to conquer, mother nature isn't taking a timeout due to the elements. At daylight this morning, we found these two beautifully crocheted webs. The perfection of each one is breathtaking.

I know in time, the wind and rain will destroy these delicate little pieces of art. But until the elements follow their due course, I don't plan to interfere. Why would I destruct something more masterful than anything I will ever be capable of creating?

Things are not always what they seem......

I just got in from the airport, pulled into the carport, and as I got out of the car, I looked down and wondered who left a bungee cord wrapped around the rails. However, upon closer inspection.............

It's Always Something Around Here....

Our dogs are excellent at doing their job.......which is to patrol our remote section of the mountain and keep us safe from predators.........the two or four-legged kind. Over the past six-plus years, they have run off numerous suspicious people in suspicious vehicles, and chased countless bear, bob cats, wild boar, deer, lamas, snakes, and others back into the woods where they belong and away from our (their) home. This also allows me to walk around on the mountainside accompanied by my large guardians and feel very safe.

But sometimes, as was the case early this morning, they don't discriminate between actual predators and the more innocent creatures that should be allowed to cohabitate peacefully within their boundaries. They see movement, especially in the dark, and go to work.

About 3:00AM this morning, they decided this enormous raccoon shouldn't be trespassing and chased him about 50 feet up a tree. To make certain he didn't come down, they sat vigil ALL NIGHT, barking. I can only imagine how terrified this little guy must have been.

At daylight, I was able to go into the woods to see what all the noise was about. This guy was curled into a ball so all I could see was fur and because he is so big, initially, I thought it might be a baby bear cub. Of course, my next thought was "Where's the mom???". But after I secured the dogs and he felt a little safer to uncurl from his defensive position, I could see through the lense of my camera that he was the beautiful, very large raccoon pictured below.

Once the barking stopped, with the dogs secured elsewhere, he was able to escape the treetops and relocate to a safer part of the mountain. I wish him a safe journey.

So......this is how my day began.



From a distance, he looks like a little bear cub in this photo above because I couldn't see the rings on his tail or the "bandit" eyes as I could inn the photo below.

"...and miles to go before I sleep..."

This wall is being built, literally and figuratively, one stone at a time.

Our paths are never straight....

We chose to outline our rows of vines with thousands of rocks we have picked up, one bucket at a time, from the mountain.

One of my jobs is to stack the rocks in a little wall to form a barrier for water runoff on the hillside. These tiny little levees help to prevent the young vines from washing away until their roots can take a firm hold. I sit in the dirt, facing forward, stacking the little stones, then inch forward and stack more.

Until I stop, stand and look behind me do know if I have laid a straight or crooked path.

I think I have found a metaphor for my life.........