I felt bad for the big pregnant doe. She was tucked up under another windblown shingle oak and instinctively bolted straight up, wracking her back against its trunk. I winced as she clambered out towards me then ran the opposite direction, fumbling through treetops all the way. It’s nice seeing something getting use out of…
First flowers of spring.
A machete, a shovel, a bottle of tordon and a hundred seedlings- black cherry, black oak, chinkapin oak, gray dogwood, witchhazel, hazelnut, hawthorn, and shortleaf pine. Hitting up the wreckage of last fall’s tornado, killing some autumn olive and honeysuckle and multiflora rose that have invaded the understory, replanting with natives. It’s the very beginning…