Notes From the Farm #1:

Well, now it's official. When I announced that I was a full time
resident of the tree farm, it was a fact in that I had made a
decision, given notice of intent to quit my job, served my last day of
servitude on that job, notified my landlord (well, landLADY....albeit
she is no "lady"), and driven all the way up here with no deeply felt
moral imperative to return to megalopohell, and whatnotall......but
today......TODAY.....I got me a official library card at the
Sparta free public library (also recognized at most of the finer free
public libraries in a nine county region), courtesy of Messr.
Carnegie . What could possibly be more rigorous, official, binding
and final than that? What says "commitment" more eloquently or
emphatically than "here is where I shall gather the stuff of life"?
Hm.....well, there's the obvious fact that I no longer have any reason
at all to return to Milwaukee.....um.....well, other than the ready
access to a host of lovely ethnic markets laden with what was once
considered exotic fare but has, however mysteriously, joined the ranks
of the necessities of life.....but we will find a way to make do.

But all of that is either here or there and is simply a matter of
locale.....it has little if anything to do with the important business
of life, which is more about doing than place. Tonight we will be
doing potatoes, onions, and bratwurst simmered in kraut (well, not
actually "simmered" in a pressure cooker, but you know what I mean)
and served with fresh baked bread. In fact, we pause to enjoy the
repast.

Later.....

O.k., simmered, served and savored. Definitely worth the trouble of
preserving the leftovers in the newly purchased pressure canner, which
sibilates merrily in the background as we digest, ruminate, and
fulminate. So, where were we?

Oh yes, the new life. So far, so good. Body and baggage arrived sans
breakage and with minimal psychic trauma. Sleep was in short supply
for a couple of days, but that was easily remedied night before
last.....and uncharacteristically deep into yesterday morning. Spent
pretty much all of yesterday (Friday) unpacking, organizing, head
scratching, dawdling, planning, cooking, drinking, smoking and
eating. Not at all a bad start. Today was the library thing, opening
new bank accounts, checking snail mail, e-mail, phone messages,
shopping for immediate necessities and sundry other little chores.
This left most of a rainy day for observing surroundings, cooking, and
reading.

Early in John Madson's "Where the Sky Began: Land of the Tall Grass
Prairie" he repeats the oft told tale of the fear and trepidation
inspired in the hearts of the first of the American immigrants to move
westward beyond the Appalachian mountain range, by the apparently
limitless expanse of grasses more or less unrelieved by trees. Their
uneasiness with the unfamiliar landscape was no doubt heightened by
the well known truism that soil too poor to support a forest was poor
soil indeed, manifestly unsuited to agriculture. All of which would
be breathtakingly uninteresting but for two peculiar facts. One is
that they had the soil fertility equation entirely bass ackwards
(startling in an agricultural people of dozens or hundreds of
generations standing.....or would be if tenure was any sort of
positive indication of stature), and the other is that the same sort
of dread and foreboding invariably accompanied first exposure to
forest in peoples reared in less sylvan climes. I guess it's all just
a matter of what you're used to, huh?

Well, no, not quite. Ever since the Leakeys and that whole African
rift valley business, it has been clear that we are a species that
evolved in savannah. Not quite forest.....not quite grassland. Sort
of the kind of thing that spawned a certain well known radio
personality out there on the edge of the prairie. Sort of the kind of
place in which I grew up myself, though I was hardly aware of it at
the time.....being the product of an educational system that, like
today's, lagged some thirty to ninety years behind last year's news in
the sciences, the humanities, the arts, and pretty much everything
else that might spawn an actual interest in learning.....but that's a
whole nother rant. What it comes down to is that humans, regardless
of what sort of environment they grew up in, have a deep and abiding
affection for what is commonly called a "parklike" setting. Studies
have shown that most people show a strong preference for whatever kind
of environment they grew up in. Not surprising. What IS somewhat
surprising (till you think about it) is that the vast majority pick
the parklike or savannah, with widely spaced trees surrounded by
grassland and little to no shrubby undergrowth as their second
choice.....regardless of whatever other kind of surroundings they grew
up in.

In any case, the species and I have pretty much left all of that
behind. Humanity opts (will it or nil it) mostly for the urban and
urbane these days, and in ever increasing numbers, worldwide.
Economics, mostly, I suppose.....with a liberal dose of technodazzle.
I have chosen the path less travelled and am now back in a nearly
parklike setting. The tree farm isn't really all that much like
savannah, but it's a lot less like forest or prairie. The spacing is
off (not to mention rigid) and yeah, there are a lot of trees and lot
of grass and forbs between them.....but it's still not savannah. Not
that that's a bad thing.....here.....this never really was savannah.
But it all gives off certain hints and allegations. In the dim
twilight hours, if you stare real hard.....pretty much anywhere and at
anything.....sometimes, off in the corner of your eye, you can almost
get a glimpse of a slinking form moving between the shadows. Tigers,
I suppose. And, somehow, that's comforting.

Wolfgang
who supposes the comfort level would probably decrease in proportion
to the likelihood that there actually were tigers out there.

hm.....o.k.....bears!