Tilling and Trees!

He finished! He finished the first tilling of the wheat field!

I can't tell you how much  back-breaking, muscle-stretching, bone-aching work that involved. He's happy.

For a while, the doggies and I sat and watched him work. They shared a branch to chew on. They are so funny, playful, happy. I think this life on a farm with a big field to play in is what they've been wanting for a long time.

We sat in the shade of this piney grove, on the left. It's a lovely spot.

There's one dominating pine tree, large and dark.

I like looking up in its mysterious limbs.

The mushrooms that were full and light-orange last week and dry and leathery now.

Behind our property is a very large field recently planted in GMO corn. It's a dead zone for bees -- nothing there for them to eat. Adam says when they fly, they all go the other way, toward the river with all its watery weeds and marsh grasses. Lots there to keep them busy.

As Adam struggled away with his small tiller (on loan from a friend), I watched this fellow on a tractor in that big corn field, churning along. Can you see him? I bet he could have tilled our little wheat plot in a few minutes. But it's okay -- it's our field, our labor, our reward.

Along the fence between the properties is a pile of trash: plastic bottles and such. At some point some folks had a little party there. Was it the Mysterious Mr. M.? Did he throw the trash over the fence? Not sure, but I doubt it. Probably some wayward people, looking for a quiet place to have a few drinks.

Kinda sad, really. It's a lonesome, derelict place for a party.

Allow me to introduce you to our resident Ent. (You do know what an Ent is, don't you? It's a Tree with Personality, from JRR Tolkien's books.) Do you see his face?

He's a very old pecan tree. I'm sure you see his eye. Do you see his straight mouth too?

And of course the other eye is a bit higher -- the other knob.

I gave him a little pat on the shoulder the other day, as a hello. When I introduced him to Julia, she ran up and gave him a big hug. When I was her age, I was a hugger of trees too.
I don't know his name yet. I suppose he'll tell us, in time.