Summer before last, it rained. And rained and rained. And the daffodils loved it. They haven't had much rain since (only about 17" in the past twelve months), but the bulbs seem to have plenty of stored-up energy from that long-ago rainy July. The blooms are beautiful this spring, all along the edge of the woods. Behind them: a dark, dense thicket of elbow bush (sometimes called Devil's elbow, for its habit of snagging you as you try to pass), dogwood, redbud, poison ivy, and Texas mountain laurel. The ground is covered with a thick brown litter of oak, hackberry, mulberry, and elm leaves--the trees that make up the woods. We've never tried to "cultivate" or "civilize" this bit of woodland: for me, it's a small fragment of true Texas wilderness, a remainder, reminder of the larger wilderness that is now gone.
Wild things in our woods: Last night, an armadillo blundered out of the trees when the dogs were out for their "last call," resulting in much chasing and loud barking. Rabbits live there, too, and raccoons and possums and squirrels (a nuisance, and worse, at pecan-harvest time). Coyotes and feral pigs and deer pass through along the creek--a dry creek now, nothing like the lovely, brimful creek you can see in the photo (top left) on the blog. A few years back, a hawk built her nest at the top of the mulberry tree and raised three babies: I saw them, one forgettable evening, peering down from the nest, their fuzzy yellow heads sunlit. Another day, through the binoculars, I watched her feeding them bits of green snake--delicious, to judge from the way they gobbled the pieces. There's a lot of wildlife in our woods, and I cherish each glimpse of it.
Remember the project I mentioned a few weeks ago? Peggy and I have finally finished it: a complete makeover of the Story Circle website. A huge job--we started the website back in the late 90, and (a dozen years later) it was in serious need of reorganization. Check it out. SCN is a unique organization, and I'm very proud of the efforts of so many women, in support of women's stories. You're always welcome to join us, you know. It's easy. You can find out how, on the new website.
Gardening. It's planting time for spring gardens in central Texas. I've put in snow peas and English peas, fava beans, more spinach, carrots, beets--early stuff. The seed potatoes are ready to go in today. Under the lights: broccoli, cabbage, tomatoes. Our last frost: mid-March. First frost: mid-November, which gives us an 8-month growing season. But we can garden year-round, if we plan for it. It's better if we get decent rains, of course.
Books. I'm wrapping up An Extraordinary Year, which has turned out much differently than I expected. I'll submit it, but without expectations. I've changed this year: I've learned new things that have altered my view of the world and the way I see myself in it. Truly an extraordinary year, but I'm not sure whether this makes for a book people will want to read. We'll see. Next on the to-do stack, for the coming week: galleys for Applebeck Orchard and Together, Alone.
Twitter. I'm not a huge fan of "social networks," but they're helpful in putting out the word about the books. I have a new Twitter page: www.twitter.com/AboutThyme. I'll be posting herb lore, facts, and info several times a day, with links to various parts of my website. I'm pleased with that site (thanks to Peggy's good work) and want to share it.
Reading note. The survival of wilderness--of places that we do not change, where we allow the existence even of creatures we perceive dangerous--is necessary. . . Every farm should have one; wildernesses can occupy corners of factory grounds and city lots--places where nature is given a free hand, where no human work is done, where people go only as guests. These places function, I think, whether we intend them to or not, as sacred groves--places we respect and leave alone, not because we understand well what goes on there, but because we do not.--Wendell Berry, Home Economics