Snow on the Rhubarb

 It was a beautiful week. It began like spring and progressed to summer. Today, it reverted to winter. So it goes.

We burned the wetland on Monday. Due to two consecutive wet springs, reed canary grass had taken over the whole thing. On the plus side, the reed canary grass left lots of fuel behind, and with a good breeze, the area burned completely in a short time.

The whole wetland burned in about 20 minutes

We then went back to the creek to burn the stack of dead branches that fell off the trees in the ice storm. It was still a little wet from recent rains and took two tries to get it started.

The fire finally catches

But once it got enough heat going to dry the wood, it took off.

And off it goes!

Terry joked that the remains of a box elder that came down in the storm could be made  into a giant slingshot. I thought that would be a fun thing to use with our extra pumpkins.

The box elder stump (right) could be a giant slingshot

A small pile of twigs that Terry raked up ignited from the extreme heat of the fire and burned completely. The heat plus a west wind started the stacked logs on fire. “In 20 minutes or so when it burns down,” Terry said, “we can put the logs out.”

Extreme heat plus wind starts a small pile of twigs (right front) and some of the logs in the pile on fire

I walked around to the other side of the log pile and noted that it was burning all the way through. I was pretty sure we weren’t putting that out any time soon.

No way we're putting out that fire

Indeed, on Tuesday morning, the log pile had a big hole in the middle of it.

Yep, burned clean through

The spring ephemerals are coming up. I probably say this every year, but it bears repeating. “Ephemeral” means “short lived.” A spring ephemeral is a plant the exploits a brief period of time when there is nearly full sun on the forest floor because the trees have not leafed out. As soon as the ground thaws and the first few pollinators start flying, the plant sprouts, blooms, sets seed, stores energy in a bulb or corm for next spring, and dies back before the canopy closes.

In the ephemerals I've planted, scilla is the first to bloom.

Scilla--not native, but pretty

I recently learned that it takes ramps 10 years to mature to flowering stage. Indeed, they have been slow to take off. I was excited to see a few more plants this year. We’ve only ever had one or two, and every year Hilda would be disappointed that there were not enough to harvest yet. I wonder if I will harvest in my lifetime.

Ramps slowly propagating

The Virginia bluebells are more promising. This is their third year, I think, and they are proliferating nicely.

The large, round, green or purply leaves are Virginia bluebells--four plants where last year there was one.

Those three pictures were taken Tuesday. By Friday, the Dutchman’s breeches were up and starting to flower.

Dutchman's Breeches

Also, the mayapples were sticking their little umbrellas up.

Mayapple emerging

The creek is running clear since there hasn't been any runoff lately.

Clear water in the creek

It sparkled under the warm sun as it curved around the bend.

Sparkling in the sun

A raccoon explored along the banks Thursday night.

Racoon prints in the mud at the edge of the creek

The peaches in the high tunnel are blooming. If all goes well, we will have fruit this year.

Peach blossoms in the high tunnel

Jane left for Florida this week. This is our first time cat sitting since she got Gracie and JJ and we got Banjo and Bingo. We had Jane’s cats in a large cage for the first night. It did not go well. We went to Plan B, which was to put them in the downstairs kitchen, where they could run around completely separated from our cats. That went a little better, but I put their carriers in the kitchen so they could have a safe place to hide. Mostly, they each sleep in one of them, but once I saw them together. I wonder if they think that if they stay in the carrier long enough, someone will take them home. It’s like the kids at camp used to say, “If you just call my mom, I know she’ll come and get me.”

If you just call my mom...

We worked as hard as our bodies would let us to get the outside prep work done for gardening while the weather was warm and sunny. We welcome the rain day we are having today. It is a chance to rest, and the ground needs the moisture. That said, I could live without more snow. Snow on the rhubarb—that seems like a metaphor for spring in Illinois. Just when you think it's safe to leaf out--wham! Winter comes back.

Snow on the rhubarb

Last night, Terry and I ate dinner on the deck while wearing T-shirts. Less than 24 hours later, the deck looked like this. No al fresco dining this evening.

No outside dining today

Now we face the challenge of keeping the greenhouse warm enough to keep the seedlings from freezing over the next three days. Every year is a gamble on the farm!