Reclaiming the Forest

What a perfect day.  I got to bed before 2am and was up by 8am when my companion dragged his weary butt in the door.  I fed him some cornmeal cereal and golden toast with butter and he started watching TV on the couch.  In no time the poor tired thing had fallen asleep and I nipped out the door in my worst clothes to go scavanging for treasures in the woods.  I have noticed of late, that there is an abundance of downed wood in the area.  As I walked down the path towards what I call the Arbutus Grove, it became apparent that the wood has been tossed to the side as though it were litter.  I don't mean the occasional thinning to let in more light, I mean loads of wood left to rot.  I try to grin and bear it, but it sure does bother me to see it.

As you can see, this shit's been down a while, and it's covered with young vines, however, you can also see that the wood is still good and there are 4 logs in this one little site alone, actually there is more there, it continues to the right.

Here are some more fallen trees, and on the larger of the two logs, there is a lot of rot on the outside, but the center was still good.  And yes, there are 4 downed huge chunks of timber just sitting there beside the path.

This too lies along that same path, but at least here it is neatly set out of the way.

This one just had me doing face-palms over and over again.  This is cut by a chainsaw, it's not natural and not needed for light, so what's up?

This is just a bigger badder picture of the one above, but it makes me wonder.  There was not even 20 feet between some of these.  This "waste wood" should be offered up to artists and such to see what can be reclaimed.  However; I don't think I'll be waiting on that invitation; I'll just help myself.

In one of the areas, where the trees were thinned, ferns filled what had once been a bog during the spring.

I also found a new view of my forest spirit that I first found when I went on that exploratory journey to seek out my secret garden.
However, the main reason why I went to the forest was to collect some items to make a broom.

 

This little grotto was filled with broom (the plant) at one point, but someone came up here and thrashed all the broom plants.  The bright yellow flowering branches were thrashed, as in hacked up and left to die.  I come up here at least once every two weeks, more if I can.... and I know that a couple of months ago, this area was filled with lovely blooms of broom and the next time I saw it, the plants had been slashed and the fresh green boughs covered the ground.  I kept going up and thinking I should grab that to make a broom with.  So that is exactly what I did.  I gathered enough broom for... yes a broom, and a lovely handle, that doesn't know it's a handle yet, lay close by.  My companion, then gave me some wonderful twine, so once I've soaked all the broom twigs and sprigs, I'll be working on the besom.
 I think that my special broom grotto is visited by another much like myself.  There is a rock balancer who comes here and leaves their little shrines up beneath the boughs of the towering arbutus.  They are set upon green moss, or the slate grey boulders that dominate that quiet little corner overlooking WestWood Lake.  Today, all those were knocked down and more of the broom was scattered about.  It may have been the wind, but I suspect boots of mischief would be a more appropriate guess.
Anyways, I'll be busy the next couple of days, to a week.  There are some spells to finish up, some stock to build up, some crafts to play with and pictures to take.  I suspect there will be more forays into the wood to gather some of the wood for making boxes and what not, that should keep me busy over the winter.

Surprise, Surprise...LOL

I went for a walk in my park today, but instead of going in my usual entrance which is here,

I wandered up the College Drive a little bit further towards the first turn-off to the right.  The reason for this is simple,  I decided that I would make a secret garden in the park and what looked like a perfect location was a small field in behind the scrub at the end of the Cul-de-sac.  I had looked up everything on Google Maps and Google Earth.  So I see the road, and walk in towards the Cul-de-sac that I know is at the end of a houseless street (according to the maps); however, this road is no longer houseless, there are, I believe four houses there, three closer to College Drive, and one near to the little round about.  Along this road is a fine selection of wild flowers that usually grow near woods, in the open areas.

I see these pretty blue flowers all over Nanaimo, along the roads and more wide open areas.

Broom is everywhere, and next time I'm remembering to poke a spare bag in my collector bag, so I can drag some home, dry it out and try my hands at making a besom style broom.

This little beauty was covered in purple flowers, and bees by the score were harvesting full throttle,how perfect I want an apiary in my secret garden, this would be ideal, so close and convenient.

This thistle too, gave me time to reflect on how wonderful this area would be.

'Well now!  This is exciting!' I thought and became giddy with delight at how close to the Hedge (the forest wall that seperates the tame and lawful from the wild and unlawful) this was.  I walked past the fancy and final house and my anticipation grew so much so that I could feel a big smile all across my face, only to be greeted by this:

and this:

Well I am a witch, a hedge-ryder, and a trouble maker extraordinaire.  I will not be held back by lame signs that mean to keep me from my goal.  I want a a secret garden and I will have one or know the reason why!  I put on my grumpy Ember face and trudged along the poorly blocked path into the scrub area just in beyond the rocks.  Ok, so no secret garden here, for there was downfall and roots standing on end, and big rock piles and no way to get past anything.  In fact, it was dangerous in there.  I knew that a new sub-division was going in not to far from the other end of those rocks, so there would be no privacy.  Although my way was blocked and this site holds absolutely no promise for creating my garden aspirations, there are some prospects on the other side of the lake, so all is not lost.  It is mid dayish and I don't do well in heat and sunlight.  I'm very fair skinned, and can be burn within 15 minutes of exposure to the sun, so I wear large baggy clothes and a hat that covers me up and provides shade, but still has a tendency to cause overheating.  I looked around my little lost area and in no time discovered a path that lead into a familiar part of the Park I'd been exploring.  I quickly made for the path with little more than a hint of regret for the loss of future garden and headed into the woods, my favorite part of any walk.

Looks like I found the forest spirit.  I want to come back and look at her, see where she's pointing, it looks like the other side of the lake, but I could be wrong.  All in all it was an excellent and informative walk.  I have lots of food for thought, now that my sleeping is back on track. 

 I finally got my partner to understand that I don't have to sleep with him when he works graveyards, but I can come and visit him, lay down until he falls asleep, do my chores, and return close to waking time and be there as he wakes up, then he doesn't miss me so much.  It has been difficult for us, this graveyard shift, but we are starting to get the hang of it and devell,op a new rhythem for a happy and productive life.

A quick definition on chores is in order as well.  I don't work, or at this point bring a penny into the house.  My partner completely supports me; however, I cook and clean, this is my nature, I love a neat house, and he is a tidy man, so it's not a bother.  He wants me to relax and enjoy my life, be as though retired.  He wants me to take the time to work on my arts, my crafts, my magic and my cooking, reading, writing, all the things I wanted to do, but never had time to do when I was supporting my kids all on my own.  He likes my art and he wants me to be the artist I was meant to be.  He supports me financially, emotionally, spiritually and even promotes my work to others.  Everything else aside, I am a lucky girl, to have someone like him and it's worth putting up with the shenanigans, guess that's what it means by unconditional love.  <3

An Old Idea Revisited

Over the years I have toyed with creating my own farm, city, town, getaway, community, village, home.  My mediums have gone back and forth, from cob, to rammed earth, to log cabin or just plain wood planks.  I have gone so far as to create my own communities using graph paper and copious notebooks filled with statistical data and relevant information leading to a village that was almost completely self reliant.  I know it's radical and I always wanted to find about 10 to 100 acres of farm land, real cheap outside of a small town to try my experiment on.  I love the idea of creating Utopia, but then there are rules and as I would talk with my friends, they no longer shared my vision, control of this enterprise was being yanked from my grasp and suddenly I would play only a minor part in my own creation because someone appointed themselves in control of my ideas.  It all came down to rules and what should and shouldn't be allowed and as visionary as my ideas were, without money to back it up, things fall by the wayside.  However, I loved creating the towns, coming up with the ideas, re-inventing the wheel, so to speak.  There is also a certain sense of ownership when you have copywrited your ideas in some way, protected your creative process and you walk out with the file of creativity.  My closet is full of those (I have a temper) ... lol.... most of my ideas don't make it beyond the initial planning stages, but I am nothing if not prolific.
As I was tooling around with that idea of being a hermit, which I like to harbor every once in a while because for some sick reason I get solace from these thoughts, it struck me that I really miss (more than words can ever say) living in touch with nature; in the thick of things, where you can tell the seasons by the way the days feel on your skin and the aromas of the various aspects of each season in succession.  I had that when I lived on the Queen Charlotte Islands, but I had no way to hold onto it, and I have been feeling sort of lost ever since.  All my feelings about gardening and housing, community and market, friends and family started to come together last night when my partner went to work.  I downloaded Google Earth and found this picture:

This picture by Uncle Bob from Google Earth map.

It's a picture of Westwood Lake from the Mount Benson side.  You can see the lay of the land and one edge to the other, even hints of where the sun hits the land.  Wow it's really awesome to see the way the Lake is nestled between the city of Nanaimo, with the harbor beyond, and Mount Benson.  As I continued to look, I wondered, wouldn't it be cool to set up a garden just beyond the back of the lake, a little, but not too far off the beaten track.  Like a secret garden, with possibly even a small orchard.  It shouldn't be too hard to set up something like that and to find a custodian who will take care of it when I am gone, either from this area, or from this life.  If for any reason I move, I can create a new one.  I need never be without a garden again.

This picture by Uncle Bob from Google Earth Maps

Here is an old cabin on the bluff that overlooks Westwood Lake below.  It was something that I had considered putting in the garden, after all, who knows if the day is long, you may need a place to hang your hat for the night.  Although in some ways, it would fit in with the surroundings, I wanted something different.  For a long time I had been in love with cob building, as well as daub and wattle.  The very idea that everything that you need for a house was right there on the land waiting for you.  I think what I would like is to fence in an area... an acre or two (not really so big as you might think in the scheme of things).  The more I thought about it, the more an idea has begun to set it's roots in my mind.  I think it's time for me to sit down with pen and paper, do a little graph work, toy with a garden and some out houses (not a toilet) and a bog (a natural toilet), even a stove.  

Now where's that notebook and pen, I gots some ideas festering. :D

Reclusive by Nature

For  a long time I have tinkered with the idea of being a recluse; moving into the woods, living off the land, selling a few items for what I can't grow or make myself.  There are several things involved here that sort of make this interesting.  I'm not some city woman rambling about moving into the woods because she has had it with society, so it's no snit.  I actually lived in the woods with my husband and kids nineteen years ago, where we lived off the land.  I grew fruits and berries and vegetables of all types, even had a green house.  I got up every morning, lit the cook stove, made the breakfast, taught the kids, tended the garden, ran the household.  Our cottage housed four of us and was twenty feet, by twelve feet.  The kids loft was across from ours, theirs being more of room, with two beds and a large play area to play with their legos in during the winter.  It was wide open, so there was no privacy anywhere in that house except for the bathroom.  Our loft was basically a pedestal for our matress with drawers and storage beneath it.  Under the kids loft was a small den, teaching area (the kids were homeschooled), and a bathroom with a shower and toilet (one does not want to be running to the outhouse at the edge of the when it's bear season. We had a tiny kitchen with a wood stove where I preserved things by jarring, like salmon, deer, fruits and vegetables.  I also had two cold rooms, one beneath the house and one on the northern face of the house, for storing winter vegetables.  After a couple of years of living like this and finding I was doing the majority of the work, I went on strike and we moved into town.  I do not see how going hunting with your buddies everyday and coming back with nothing, but that stupid I been smoking pot all afternoon and you don't know smile truly contributes to the household.  I was worn out, doing everything myself and catering to the whims of a big baby of a man and when we moved into town I discovered more about his antics and lady friends, so he became my ex, and I moved me and my children away from the peace of the Queen Charlotte Islands. I miss my home in the woods, and had it just been me, I would have stayed.
So this is something I know I can accomplish.  I mostly want garden space and a place to put my head at night, or just watch the stars.  I look forward to working in the garden during the spring summer and autumn, falling to studying during the winter.  I craft and make things out of nature, so I will have mountain to study and collect in .  I am highly creative and at this point in my life just want to devote myself to my studies.  I have one thing in the way.... My partner, who I love very much.
I am in a relationship, it is not easy, he is very in tune with me and feels me want to run away and enjoy my freedom.  everytime I get the inclination, things become intense because he grips tighter.  I just need space, but the tighter he reigns me in, the more animosity I build up towards him.  He is trying to give me the freedom to do as I please.  If only trying were succeeding and I do give him credit for his attempts.  We do love each other, but that being said, is love enough.  I know it should be and I keep that thought in mind.  I have found that sometimes by giving in, I am rewarded with more freedom. Couples are all about power struggles, and I hate power struggles.  Being adults and working towards a happy medium is what we both are doing, but anyone who's been in a relationship knows that there are factors that need to be taken into account and that there is always more to things than breaking up.  What's the point if you are inexplicably drawn back to each other over and over again.  Anyone who's been there knows what I am talking about.  Learning to be together is part of the relationship process, just as much as learning to be apart.  This makes it hard for me, because for the most part, I wish to be alone, not catering to anyone else.  I've catered to others all my life.  I want to be responsible just for me, I'm fifty years old and I have been responsible for people since I was a small girl, starting with my little sister when I was five, then my mom when I was ten needed constant watching and keeping out of trouble, and then it blossomed, with my mom always bringing me back home to look after her and my father until he died, my sister also pulled me in to look after mom after dad died.  I had kids, far to many family members and boyfriends pulling me in to look after this and that, each one telling me that I was being pulled from the important responsibilities.  Each participant in this dance of the responisibilities believes they are special and that they are the only one allowed to make demands on my time, all others are interferring and I must cast them aside now.  In their eyes, first and foremost, I am a worker bee, busy and chipper, always smiling, always needing something to do so that I can be happy.  I have explained to my family and friends that I don't mind helping out once in a while, but I happy to work quickly, so I can get on to my OWN endeavers.  I have put some things off for over twenty years and now my body is not fit enough to do what I wanted and sadly enough there was not enough time for me to exercise in the past few years and now I"m really out of shape.  I absolutely do not need help finding things to do, I have a huge pile of unfinished projects vetoed by well meaning friends and relations.
The only one who actually gets that I really need freedom to be creative now is my partner, so I'm not in a hurry to turn my back on him.  We are working both of us, to achieve freedom and serenity within our home.  This being the case, I may very well just include him in my plans, but do them behind his back and then move him in.  Or perhaps, I'll be a sometimes hermit, going on sebaticles to get away from it all.  Ultimately, where I am at in my life, if anything were to happen to Sean and I find myself on my own, I would want to have my own little hermitage to fall back on.
All my little forays into the Westwood Lake area, and looking at Mount Benson, I'm sure I could find a little secluded acreage, where I could put up a temporary shelter with a bed and fireplace, as well as an intensive garden. 
Well that is a lot to think about, all for a little freedom and security for my future. LOL
Perhaps less talky-talky, writey-writey and more looky-looky in the park is in order.