Spring Has Sprung: February 25, 2018

Well, spring has sprung at The Acres. Too bad it's a month before spring actually arrives--and three months before the "official" frost risk is here. Could be an up and down next three months for this old heart. Some things have actually started to bloom already--snowdrops in several places, a gorgeous yellow orchard iris, several lilac crocus, even a grape hyacinth. In addition, daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips are coming up every where. Ah well, I shall enjoy the beaut...y and see what happens between now and May 15th. At least, the calla lily that's blooming is inside.
I still have so much to do as well. Three beds to re-do, one new one to build, tons of chain saw work that needs done. Should be a busy time in the next few weeks. Spring break will find me working! But that's a good thing! God has been kind to us to give us work--good for the body, good for the soul, good for the spirit. And God has been kind enough to give me two "jobs" I adore--loving on teenagers and loving His creation.

This Week at Iten's Acres: Half-way February 5, 2018

Around half-way through a real winter at The Acres. Snow, cold, and the breeze I love in the summer is the chilling wind of winter. The walks require some bundling, but are worth the effort. Pond is frozen. The conifers show off in the midst of the dormancy of the rest of the trees. A reminder, I think, that under the snow and under the frozen "tundra" life goes on. The pond is frozen solid--hope the goldfish are snuggled in whatever they snuggle in. The Sentinel looks... as if he's just another tree waiting for spring. The Lenten rose and rhododendron are fearless green as well. And, of course, since it's mid-February, the pussy willow by the pond is starting to bloom. Silver blooms in a gray world. The birds feasted on the dogwood berries a long time ago. By now, most of the crab apples are gone as well. I still have some work to do--if one of these weekends gets warm enough to allow some clearing of some brush. A couple beds need to be "prepared" for a little revision as well. I have a feeling that may have to wait until early March. February seems in no hurry to warm up. Maybe a late spring this year--I can wait. Old age is a lesson in patience. Until then, the snow is beautiful, the beds are warmly blanketed, the Cardinals ornament the trees, the other birds are feasting at the Iten feeders and at God's feeders--lots of seeds out here in the country, and every walk reminds me that winter is a beautiful time of year in its own right. Beauty is not where you find it; it's everywhere all the time. You just have to take the time to see it.

This Week at Iten's Acres: Catness--January 14, 2017

Catness: Needless to say, Shadow, the outside cat has not been too thrilled with winter this year. He doesn't seem to mind the cold--God makes warm coats--but the snow is not his friend. He goes somewhere every night to stay warm. I have no idea where, but shows up in the morning for breakfast and a little attention. The birds like breakfast as well because as soon as he's had his fill and heads off to fulfill his catness obsession with couriosity, they don't mind finish...ing off what he left behind. Saturday's snow at The Acres was deep for the Shadow, but eventually, after several false starts, away he went. He does only make one "trail." Always he returns in the exact same catprints that he wandered away in. No matter the speed of his return, it's always in the same tracks he made in going away. And he does stand out in the snow--bronze blackness on a blanket of white. No hiding from the birds that's for sure. They see him returning. And whenever I go away for awhile, he rests where the car has been parked--no snow. How to survive winter: The Shadow knows. And he does tell me all about it whenever he gets a chance.

Reflections on Life at The Acres: December 21, 2017

Reflections on life at The Acres:


I wish I could paint. Some of the pictures I take are lovely (Personal bias), but to be able to paint them would add the permanence of imagination to their beauty and longevity. After all, as someone has said, "A painting is a declaration of love."


My favorite bird sighting at The Acres: Baltimore Orioles. I love the others, but that feathered-friend is just stunning. Two years ago he landed on the hummingbird feeder that was on the door...window. Breathtaking.

I am never less alone than when I am alone at The Acres. In a related heresy, I wonder if I love baseball so much because it is a team game that you play all alone.


My favorite singers at The Acres: The peeper serenade in spring. The bass choir in the pond all summer. The Chickadee rap. The kingfisher has a great one as well. Can anyone out volume a robin? The wood wind moaning in the bare branches of winter. The cymbal solo of a thunderstorm--and the lighting effects aren't bad either. The running brook sounds of a flock of goldfinch. Shadow mouthing off everytime I feed him in the morning or go for a walk that he can't keep up with. The silent whisper of falling snow.


The expectations of spring--I know, today is just the first day of winter.


When my students ask me where I would go I could travel anywhere in the world, I always tell them--Home, at The Acres. I love the old and familiar--and every walk is entirely new.

This Week at Iten's Acres: Solitude December 1, 2017

I have returned to the world from my week of wilderness solitude. Actually, I returned yesterday. Had a delightful lunch with the family. They even gave up most of the OSU game to dine with the old man!
It was, though, a marvelous week to rest at The Acres. No phone, no computer, no television. Life at its quiet and serene best. Rest, of course, requires some work--work that you love. I finished up the fall bulb plantings--had to wait until the hole for the well was ...refilled. Moved a few things as well. Mulched a little. Any excuse to spend time outside. Multiple walks are always at the top of the agenda. A few things are actually still blooming. Dianthus and snap dragons love the cooler weather. And the pansies naturally. The flowers--dusty something or other--also love the chill air. It's as if I have areas where the snow has already fallen when I wasn't watching. Small, gorgeous white plants scattered here and there around the property. One forsythia even decided it must be spring and bloomed. And--believe it or not--an iris has a bud on it. I doubt it will stay warm enough to actually bloom, but I appreciate the promise.
The weather was delightully changeable. What a gift that we so often take for granted. A monsoon last Saturday. The swamp went from mud to five feet of water and over the road in one evening. It was a joy to spend the evening watching the rain cascade, the clouds light up, and to listen to the sky applaud it's own fireworks display with the moaning wind as its approving audience. Days of cool sun, blue and gray fighting for the ascendancy in the skies, dark nights for brilliant star gazing, the birds enjoying the feeding station under the Ancient Maple. If I'm good--think still--they even let me sit on the bench and watch and listen--see cover picture above for seating arrangements. I can do still. The goldfinch are pale now, the cardinals never give up their red, the chickadees and titmice active and vociferous. Afraid of no human ever.
The cats enjoy the extra time to boss me around as well. Homesteader on the inside. Shadow on the outside. Both gorgeous, affectionate--and mouthy.
All in all, it was a splendiferous week. But now, back to the world--to loving on young people and trying to sneak some wisdom into their brains; to convince them that "no one ever cares for them like Jesus." Rest again--a different work that I enjoy--another labor of love. Thank you Lord for a week of serenity in the wilderness. Thank you, Lord, for weeks of chaos among those that I love--some of Your other kids.

Backroads of Morrow County Update

Backroads of Morrow County Update:
The last harvest has begun. There are several harvest times here in the country. The first one starts in late spring and is, in a sense, perpetual. Hay. Whenever the grass in a field gets high up, the hay bales appear. I love them. Sitting on the hillside, complimented by a cloudless blue sky, beautiful. Restful even. The symbol of the serenity of the backroads. A second harvest occurs mid-summer. And I don't like it. Wheat. I lo...ve the golden fields of wheat reflecting the sunlight. But, alas, they disappear. Usually, the stubble is turned into hay as well. I wish the gold fields rippling in the country breeze never needed harvesting. The third and last harvests at times overlap. Soybeans and corn. They, too, are more beautiful in the summer. The tall green corn reaching for the sky is particulary lovely. But they both dry out and need gathering. Usually the beans go first. Nightime harvests this week. In the morning it's as if the fields never had a thing on them. Magic. Flat contours reaching for the horizon. The corn, which has just started to be harvested, will leave a stubble--often through the winter. I do enjoy cruising the backroads watching the monster machines devour the harvest. And I love the emptiness they leave behind. The world grows larger in the fall. The backroads now have hills with bales of hay, empty land that once held soy beans, and the stubble of old corn fields. And except for the monsters at work, i love the beauty of it all. And in the night, even the monsters have an eerie beauty of their own. Backroads. Remember, drive slow.

A Pheasant Fellow September 10. 2017

Always something new at The Acres. Today, I either picked up a friend or a stalker. This afternoon I had lunch with Brad--always a good time. Then, I came home and mowed the front of The Acres. Tomorrow, I'll do the back. After the mowing was done, I forced myself to take another early evening walk. Myriads of things are still blooming. A few things are "new"--the asters have started, a few new gladiolas have yet to bloom, the bachelor's buttons have started. The dwarf yellow iris are starting to re-bloom. I'll try to get some walking pictures up later. But here's the awe moment. I'm looking at one of the beds near the front of the property and up walks a pheasant--a female I think. Walks right up to me. Hops in the bed and checks me out. At first, I was afraid to move thinking I would spook her. Finally, I just started to walk slowly away. And she followed. I walked from the very front of The Acres all the way to the back of the wild area. She followed right behind me all the way. Walked right by Shadow without a bit of fear. Well, on her part. He took off a little intimidated. Finally, at the back of The Acres, she slipped into some brambles. Yep, at The Acres you never know what beauty will show up next. But always something. I either look like a giant pheasant or . . . who knows? Anyway it was a humorous, strange, but lovely walk.