|Elderberry bush -- center of photo|
“See that elderberry bush on the other side of the north field,” I asked Mike. “Do you think we could skirt the field and get to it? I want to see it.”
He said he thought we could do it, so in the late afternoon the four of us set out. Bess and Nellie both greeted the prospect of exploring with enthusiasm, and I was happy not to be tramping up Plank’s Pitch.
|From the north field (rapeseed)|
At first all went well. We had walking room along the edge of the field. But by the time we got to the western edge, the rape was growing densely and we were forced to walk in equally dense grass infused with Canada thistle. Invisible under the grass were uneven terrain, downed tree limbs, and holes of various origins. Had I been by myself, I would have been overwhelmed and turned back. In fact, I suggested we should do just that, but Mike said, “After we’ve come this far?” And so, we pressed on – and I do mean “pressed.” Mike was my pathfinder, pressing down the tall grass and thistles so that I could push through. Bess and Nell remained happily oblivious of the difficulties we humans were enduring.
|Mike at elderberry bush|
And yes, we came to the elderberry bush, now in bloom. It looks healthy and perhaps could be picked this fall. Hopefully at that time it will be easily accessible and laden with plump little elderberries.
|Elderberry bush in bloom|
It was not comfortable standing there in tall vegetation, so we didn’t linger. We continued on through the grass and thistles, now passing the plum trees. I saw no fruit on those, and it’s possible they were hit by frost. But – maybe it’s just too soon to see it.
|We clambered last that bank.|
Finally, Mike headed away from the field and down into the north draw following a deer trail. I would love to have taken more pictures, but frankly I was concentrating on staying upright. Finally we came out in familiar territory near the lane.
|Yarrow blossom by Mike|
“Well, that gave my tendon a workout,” said Mike. And I felt badly because I had forgotten all about his injured tendon. I don’t think he’s any the worse for wear, but I wouldn’t have taken the chance had I thought about it.
|The lane -- a welcome sight|
Notes -- It's a lovely sunny day but not warm -- only 70. Last night we watched a doe and her tiny fawn down by the pond. The hummingbirds drain two feeders daily. A quail calls for hours on end, and that becomes tedious. And our resident pheasant continues to tramp the farm looking for a companion. We see the bunny frequently, and the lawn is riddled with rodent holes. KW