here is the future

Burn, Baby, Burn

One of the profs in the Art and Design department sent out an email Friday asking if anyone would like to come out to his farm to help with his prairie burn on Sunday. I was up for something new and different, so I got busy yesterday. I finished a paper, worked on a GIS assignment, and did my reading for the week. This would be my reward.

I google-earthed his farm and headed out late-morning. The temps were in the 60's and the sky was crystal blue. There was a light E-NE wind with rain in the forecast, but not until later in the night. It was a perfect day to be out in the light and fresh air.

When I arrived, he was walking up his lane to meet me...he must have seen the trail of dust as I drove up his dead-end gravel road. Even his cows came over to the fence to greet me. He was carrying a rake, a shovel, and water for the two of us. We said our hellos, then he asked if I was ready to burn. He must have recognized that look in my eyes when I smiled and nodded because he pulled a big box of matches out of his back pocket. We walked to the far NW corner of the first patch and as he knelt to strike that first match, the wind swirled up and around, caught the spark, and we were in business!

He handed me the rake and showed me how to 'drag the fire' down the line. I followed the fence row, about 8 feet out in front of the real burn. I felt like the Pied Piper. That fire followed me like...well like the Pied Piper. If I pulled the rake in a straight line, so it went. If I curved around each fence post, the burn line arced. He saw how much fun I was having, asked if I would be ok, warned me to watch the wind direction so I wouldn't get trapped, then headed off to start the second patch further north.

It took about 45 minutes to burn the first area because of the wind direction. When he returned, he started a third patch and instructed me to head north this time along the electric fence. The wind was starting to blow from the E-SE, so within minutes I had a nice trail of fire behind me. I 'drug the fire' to the far bluebird house along the river. The prairie grass was thick here and it offered the fire just what it wanted...fuel. Within a minute or two, the flames caught the wind and went racing up over the hill to meet up with the second patch he had ignited.

What a drastic change to the landscape! It was beautiful. From a distance, it reminded me of a freshly tilled garden. We met up on the river bank and he showed me some wild flowers that were in bloom along the edge of the forest. I spotted bloodroot, Dutchman's Breeches, some hepatica and a Downy Hawthorne ready to throw out its bloom. He pointed out some old Bur Oaks, hardwood upland trees that he figured were close to 150 years old! They were huge, knarly dudes just hanging out in that old forest, watching the water swim by. He told me that this spring the river finally carved its way thru the meander just below his house. Promised we would walk down there before I left, but we forgot. Just think of witnessing that break...something that had been in the works for hundreds of years and it finally happened. He said he watched the water come up and when it finally receded, a new channel had formed. Those rivers are amazing! Water knows where it wants to be and goes there.....

He had two more patches he wanted to burn, so we headed south and he lit that patch with one match. I drug the fire down toward the lane, right up to the base of one of those Bur Oaks. The wind was getting stronger and caught my fire line. Whoosh! It started down the patch heading west. He started another line to back burn around his tractor and called me to move the Mini to a spot on the other side of the lane. It was good he thought to move it because the fire turned and headed into the spot where I had parked. The Mini would have looked just like a toasted marshmallow!

Later he joined me down by the oak at the bend in his lane and we walked west ahead of the fire. This was turning out to be one of the best days in a long, long time. Nothing like a little distraction of fire to clear one's head and thoughts. I love tromping and I love fire. Life was good. Even better tho, he reached into his sack and pulled out a PB&J. So we walked and talked and headed toward the last patch to burn. He pointed out some prairie potholes that were coming back since he bought this part of the farm. Tiles blew out this spring, so water had returned and they were starting to show signs of life. Down over the hill to the northeast was his pride and joy...a beautiful wetland that had been farmed to within an inch of its life before he got his hands on this land. Now it offers the most beautiful view from on top of the hill and it sings out with frogsong. Loud and noisy songs of frog! It was glorious. I could see myself falling to sleep at night to the sound of frogsong. This, or the sound of rain on a metal roof....these sounds soothe my soul.

For the last patch, we started in the NW corner and drug the fire straight south. It was having a hard time taking hold; the ground was wet from a blown tile line, but I walked out into thicker grass and it caught immediately. The wind had picked up quite a bit and with abundant fuel, the fire had no trouble burning. A fence line separated the prairie from a neighbor's field of corn stubble, so we had to watch if any burned thru. I would drag for a while, then slip over the fence and beat flames for while. Luckily, there was a hefty strip of green grass before the corn stubble, so the fire pretty much stayed on this side of the fence. Just to be safe, he brought his old pick-up over and got out the hose attached to a very large water tank in the bed.

He left me there while he walked back up the hill to check on my car and his tractor. I stopped to take in this beautiful landscape. The wind was fresh, then thick with smoke, then fresh again. I was immersed in the sounds of crackling fire and frogs and wind. I could feel the heat of the flames on the back of my thighs as it followed me along that charred line.

This spot, at this moment, was another most perfect place to be in the universe.

New Beginnings

I have not been out in a sunrise for a very long time. My early mornings have been consumed by projects, readings, and rushing off to catch a ride to school with Tess. This morning I had a purpose. I was up at 5:30 a.m. to walk out into the new light and into a new day. I decided I would catch the sunrise this morning because on this day I will start a new page in my life.

Rob's horoscope from last Thursday (see earlier post) has got me thinking about that lack of harmony between my inner and outer self. They have been so out of whack for such a long time. It is not that I have been unaware, it's just that daily I dismiss it as the way things are in my life and that someday I will fix it. I find that I am constantly telling myself, "Later..."

Today I woke up with a clear conviction. No more unbalance. Attitude is everything; change is upon me and I embrace it. A change of heart, a change of mind, and a change in sincerity toward my future and those in my life are having a profound effect on that change in harmony of how I live and who I am.

Training as a landscape architect has brought me so much more than learning the points of practice and profession. It has sent me on a quest for answers about who I want to be. I am optimistic about my future. I see myself on a path that guides no one but me. About midway thru this semester I broke down and cried to my professor because I felt like I was letting so many people down. She came to the rescue like the true friend she has become and assured me that I was exactly where I needed to be and that no one was feeling let down. Yesterday, at our weekly, early morning meeting, she finally asked me where my path was taking me. With a short conversation about all this study and research I have been doing, we nailed it to the wall. Something so simple and so reassuring has finally settled into my life and a weight I have carried far too long has been lifted.

I am on my way. I am feeling passionate again about my studies and the decisions I am making about my life. I have renewed determination that from here on out, it will be ok. Better than ok. It will be harmony.

Oh, Rob, you know me so well!

For the Week of April 8th, 2010...

Cancer (June 21-July 22)
It's probably true for a lot of celebrities that their public personas are not accurate reflections of their private lives. One striking example is actress Megan Fox, who's famous for being a sex goddess. But the fact is, she told Harper's Bazaar magazine, she has only slept with two men in her life, and it makes her ill to even contemplate having sex with someone she doesn't love. While it may not bother her to have a reputation that's so different from her inner world, I wouldn't say the same about you -- especially now. I urge you to do what you can to create more harmony between the version of yourself that you project outward and the version of yourself you actually live in. Horoscope provided by Free Will Astrology

Trompin'

Late last night I got a call from a friend who wanted to know if I would like to tromp in the morning. Most assuredly! We set a time of early, early so we would have plenty of time to do my most favorite thing in the world....tromp the waterways thru forest and fields.

The paper that is due on Monday was done. The lemon meringue pie I promised to make for Easter dinner was in the refrigerator. The rolls were shaped and raising.

This would be my reward. I quietly slipped out of the house just after sunrise so I would not wake any of those sleeping in and set off for a morning of bliss with a companion who loves to tromp was much as I do.

Look who we found along the way!

Happy Easter

Your gambling chakra is conspiring with your inner roughneck to pull a fast one on your dignity chakra and your inner wuss. If they get away with their scheme you may find yourself having ridiculous yet holy fun in high places. And I wouldn't be surprised if in the course of these hijinks, your spirit guides channeled some holistic karma into the part of your psychic anatomy that we in the consciousness business call your "spiritual orgy button." APRIL FOOL! Sorry if that sounded a bit esoteric. I was invoking some faux shamanic jargon in the hope of bypassing your rational mind and tricking you into experiencing a fizzy, buoyant altered state, which would be an excellent tonic for both your mental and physical health.

In a New York Minute!

There and back....seems like a dream now. New York City for Spring Break.
This is the 3rd time we have traveled to NYC to explore. The first time happened before I started the landscape architecture program, so I was merely one of many tourists checking out all the touristy haunts. The second time we went to NYC, I had been in the program for a year and a half, so there were places I wanted to experience from the standpoint of a aspiring landscape architect...designed landscapes in this most fabulous urban environment.

This trip was one where I ventured further out to explore Prospect Park and Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn, Fort Tryon Park in Upper Manhattan, and again, Central Park and its surrounding neighborhoods. I also was able to drag my family to one of NYC's newest parks, the elevated High Line Park. Nicely done and so unique.

It is good to be home safely, but I am not so excited to get back into the grind of school. It was nice to just explore and wander this most beautiful city.

A Day for Celebration

Our Good Citizen

Yesterday while I was waiting for Prof to arrive for our early morning meeting, I stood at the railing of the 4th floor triangle in the College of Design and watched as people and vehicles maneuvered the walkways and streets to get to where they needed to be. It reminded me of a slowed-down version of time-lapse fotography that captures that herky-jerky motion of stop and start. The bus schedules, along with the framework of class schedules, pretty much guarantee an approximate time; not the hour so much as the minutes before or after the hour. This view from the top of the COD captures the choreography of our everyday lives here on campus.

I noticed a man walking along briskly as he crossed the street. He was dressed in khakis and what appeared to be a nice winter dress coat. At about the same time, a campus garbage truck caught my eye as it rounded the corner and headed east down Osbourne. Mid-way thru the turn, the truck's rear cavity faced into the wind and a single sheet of 8 1/2 x 11 paper swirled out into the air and landed in the intersection. The man jogged over, picked it up, and stashed it in one of those ubiquitous plastic bags we all carry home from the market. I thought it strange that he would dash into the busy traffic to snatch this refuse, so I watched as he continued on his way east. Within a second, he leaned over and retrieved another piece of litter revealing itself in a pile of dirty snow. He made 2 or 3 more swoops, gathering bits and pieces of trash, then cut across the street. He made his way along the south walk, bobbing here and there to reach for a scrap to stuff in his bag.

He obviously was not on staff here at the university to pick up litter; his briefcase and dress would indicate otherwise. Without knowing his story, I could only guess that he had taken it upon himself to clean up his world, one piece of trash at a time. Nothing odd about that. It got me to thinking that we should all be such good citizens.

Several mornings a week, Tess will drop me at the COD at 7:30 on her way to school. It gives me time to read or work on things in the quietude of the 5th floor grad studio. As I enter the building, the janitorial staff is cranking away cleaning and vacuuming before the day's onslaught. I have noticed over the last few months that the task of keeping the campus clean is overwhelming for these folks in light of the budget cuts. Their numbers were the first to take the hit when cost-cutting measures were enacted. The trash is oftentimes overflowing from outdoor receptacles, cigarette butts pile up in hidden outdoor corners of the buildings, and litter in general is everywhere. I know the end of winter is always abit shabby, and especially so this end of winter, but our campus has been carrying a scrubby look of unkemptness for awhile now.

Just that morning I picked up a sandwich wrapper blowing across my path. As I opened the doors to the COD, I noticed the sand, grit, and dried mud embedded in the brittle door mat and was now creeping into the building. With Spring Break commencing at 5 that afternoon, I entertained a silent thought of a 'gorilla vacuuming' stunt with my industrial-strength shop vac. I would target the front entry directly inside and out of the COD. A cleaning up of a space, kind of like Iowa's Roadside Clean-up Program where a service organization or club "adopt" a portion of the roadway to keep clean. Later, when I saw this man cleaning up his walk into work, I knew I wasn't so off in my guerrilla-stunt thinking.

This all really speaks to the issue of how we live on this landscape. A much simpler approach for all of us to take would be to think about how we move thru our everyday lives leaving behind that litter trail for others to clean up. If everyone of us carried and used that plastic bag as we criss-crossed campus, we could make a huge impact on the care and keeping of our landscape.

Some basic rules of occupation of a space....first and foremost, don't litter! Replace that plastic bag with a re-usable tote. Pick up after yourself. Pick up one piece of litter today. Two pieces tomorrow. Maybe 3 or 4 or more the next day. 20,000 students and a whole regimen of faculty and staff would constitute an entire army of litter-picker-uppers. We could all be good citizens.