Here are a few June shots from around
the Loyd homeplace (in NC).
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| Here's an update on our beloved Firepink, with even more blooms than last time I showed it. |
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| This is one of the healthiest clusters of Pipsissewa I've ever seen. At Camp Cherokee that was my Indian name, and it was a plant I always had my nature students learn to identify. |
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| This dainty thing is a new favorite of mine and Judy's. It is called Orange Milkwort. It grows exclusively in a narrow patch on our trail to the stream. When picked, the blossoms stay fresh for many days. |
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| A full day after the torrential rains of two weeks ago our stream was still at flood stage. The tiny waterfall was "raging" and we could not step from the bridge to our island without getting extremely muddy. The floods have since subsided and I retrieved some of our playthings that had washed downstream, getting snagged on branches. |
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| Our prickly pear cacti have beautiful waxy flowers. They are now forming their edible fruit, but I haven't dared to try to harvest any. Their minuscule prickles are hateful and difficult to see, much less remove. |
Now for the devastation. If you were in
Moore County on June 13, you likely witnessed
the power outages, fallen trees, and property
damage that result from a quick-hitting storm.
We were fortunate. Three large trees fell, but
none in the direction of the house. Firemen and
locals with chainsaws helped clear the totally-
blocked Murdocksville Road in a matter of minutes.
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| This fireman is removing the chain with which he dragged the large oak out of the roadway. |
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| This deputy stops traffic until the top half of the tree can also be removed. I cut a few limbs and raked debris off the road. Even I small oak branch can puncture a tire. They are very unyielding. |
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| This is the exposed stump of the huge oak that you may have seen my grandchildren gazing at in previous blogs. They also liked holding my hands and jumping from atop this peak. |
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| A few days later faithful highway workers came along with their mulcher and chewed up and recycled the piles of limbs that lined both sides of the road. They were happy to allow me to cut up the main trunks for firewood (process now complete). |
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| Deep in our woods, another massive tree fell. I had been watching this one for a couple of years, knowing it was beginning to rot. I had not cut it, thinking it must provide homes for many animals. I now plan to remove some of the limbs and leave the main trunk for at least a couple of years. It should make another great play space for the children-- and I'm well stocked on firewood. |
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| Like with the other trees, this one was just snapped off near ground level. You can see the substantial rot. |
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| Several smaller trees were bent nearly to the ground by the fall of this giant. Trees like this are sometimes called "wolf trees." During their prime, they tend to dominate a sector of the forest, sapping more than their share of sunlight, nutrients, and space. Their ultimate demise opens a huge clearing in the woods, and I imagine there is great rejoicing among the more lowly plants that have lived in their shadow. I'll be interested to see what plants assert themselves now. |
Here's some more of the storm's devastation
in our outdoor playground.
Oops! It looked like this before the storm!
Me and the grandkids are responsible. Sorry.
Anyway, here's the impressive pile of future
firewood that oak and a medium-sized hickory
supplied me with. I'll remember those trees
fondly a couple of winters from now as they
warm us or heat up our soup.
What unexpected event will happen next?
If I knew, it wouldn't be unexpected!
