Let's Go Walking.....

I often mention my morning walks with my daughter, so it occurred to me today, when she said she couldn't make it, to take my digital camera along and show my friends what we see when we walk.

First off, about four years ago the city Alma installed a three mile long cement walkway near the shore of Harlan County Reservoir. It takes a person along grassy areas at its beginning in town, travels through two or three wooded areas, bisects a couple of small meadows and ultimately terminates at the Methodist Cove boat launching ramp right on the lake. Eva and I normally start at dawn and walk to the halfway point where there is a convenient bench. There we sit while I wait for my arthritic left hip to quit screaming at me and I take in a terrific vista of the lake itself. When my aging, decrepitizing (is there such a word?) body has recovered, we march back to our starting point. My pedometer has confirmed that the round rip march is a three mile trek, which we accomplish in just about one hour. Ours is not a leisurely stroll, it's a fairly aerobic pace and works well for both of us.













Here is where we start. The manicured area greets us at the beginning and welcomes us back when we have completed our route. It was here, a couple of months ago, that we saw a momma opossum trudging across the grass with five or six of her little ones clinging to her back.












Fallen leaves in the wooded areas confirm that the fall season is now in charge. While most of the trees still have their leaves, enough are on the ground to "leave" no doubt as to the departure of summer.












Normally, the morning sun is just starting its climb into the sky and not every area is fully lighted. The partial sunlight creates some striking views of the wooded areas. The grasses in the foreground have been throughly pushed flat by groups of deer, who use this small meadow to relax or sleep. With the tall corn crops now harvested, the deer, who often spend their days hidden in the corn fields, now come to the wooded portions of this protected area. Deer hunting season begins November 1, and they seem to sense that the law prohibits hunting on this side of the lake. We see as many as eight to ten deer each morning as they take flight at the sight of us.












Small creeks, or rills (I've always wanted to use that word), find their way down to the lake. We've seen wild turkeys, pheasants and, of course, deer drinking from this creek. Where there is abundant water, the grasses are still green, but that won't last long. Winter is seriously approaching.













This is our view from the bench at our halfway point. The lake is almost nine miles long and there are dozens of places to view it, but this is my favorite. The sun hasn't reached here yet, but it is still a remarkable view. Normally, I fish on the far side of the lake at a place called Cedar Point. With fall here, it's time for several species of fish to start feeding. I can't wait.










I understand why professional photographers love to play with different lighting. Here the rising sun creates a scene I simply can't pass up.

Here are some more scenes from the walk:










A Dixie Chicks song includes the lines: " I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall... I wanna be the only one for miles and miles...."



I find that concept appealing, and the walk is the place where it comes to life for me.
It's a bonus I didn't know existed when I decided to move here. It helps me feel blessed every day and I fully appreciate that every day is, indeed, a gift.

Winter Wheat - What's That?

Summer is officially gone in Nebraska and the fall season is in charge. I Drove to Kearney today in a driving rain with blustery cross winds that made me keep my speed well below the limit just to make sure I had control of the car. Everything is changing because the seasons are changing. I have been to Nebraska several times in the winter, but I have never been anywhere outside of California to watch the seasons change from one into another. It is a fascinating process. (Actually, I spent a year in Virginia in 1954-55 when I was in the army and I am sure I saw the season change, but a kid that age just can't appreciate something like the miracle of seasonal changes). The winds have stripped the leaves from many of the trees and covered the walkways. Soon the trees will be empty limbs sticking up in the colder air. And now is the time when the harvest is in full swing.

When my daughter and I have morning coffee at Bugbee's restaurant, I overhear snippets of conversations from hard working men who are preparing for another day's work at the grain elevators that offload the trucks filled with the harvested corn, soy beans and milo. Some of the truckers don't like the price they are being paid for their load while others don't like the wait behind several trucks in front of them. It's a new time of year, and it is reflected in the fields surrounding this area.

The green rolling countryside that so impressed me when I arrived in June is now brown and dead with just an occasional patch of green. Harvest time is here and the rolling vistas are still striking, but with a different sort of beauty. The endless fields of tall, green stalks of corn are now fields of short brown stalks no higher than 4 to 6 inches. The short stalks are left in the ground deliberately to act as snow traps during the winter, and they are absolutely essential for a successful winter wheat crop.

I had always thought that during the winter in Nebraska the fields just sat there waiting for spring so the plowing and planting could start all over again. Not so. Once corn is harvested and the remaining cane is chopped for cow feed, the short brown stalk remains. In late October and early November, the planting of the winter wheat takes place. Machines travel down the rows and punch seeds below the surface. These seeds are of a type that depend on being underground in cold weather in order to germinate and sprout in the earliest spring days. Those seeds sit there all winter taking advantage of what is called "dry farming". All that means is that there is no irrigation. The farmer depends on mother nature to supply the moisture in the form or rain or snow. Remember, snow is an insulator, that's why igloos and snow caves can keep people warm in the far, far north. Once snow falls, the left over stalks from the corn crop prevent the wind from blowing the snow away. The snow then keeps the ground temperature at seed level well above the air temperature. If all goes well, the seeds prosper during the cold of winter while humans go about their business dressed in fifty pounds of insulated coats, pants and boots.

When the cold of winter finally breaks in early spring, and when the the snow melts and the ground warms, the seeds sprout and farmers have another crop to harvest before they start to plow and plant for the new farming year.

The land is in use twelve months a year. Farmers need the land to keep producing income because theirs is a precarious financial existence. I spoke to a woman at the county offices one day who said she and her husband had been farming for the past twenty years, and finally this year, with its heavy spring rains and a reasonably kind summer, is the first year they will show a significant profit. Remember, Nebraska is one of those states with laws that prevent huge agri-corps from owning or operating farms. The state does all it can to promote the continued existence of family farmers. They are a dying breed in this country.

Parades And Cattle.

This past Saturday morning, October 6, I was flipping channels with the remote looking for something to occupy my brain while my coffee got my heart started, and I found myself watching a parade taking place in Grand Island, Nebraska. It was a terrific parade almost three hours long with a seemingly endless series of marching bands. This was no penny-ante parade, and there were thousands of people lining the streets to watch.

Grand Island is a city of 50,000 people about 2 hours east of Alma. It is the third largest city in the state (Omaha and Lincoln are the two biggest) and each year it holds what is called the Harvest of Harmony parade, which has been held annually for over 66 years. High school bands from every part of the state march proudly with their selected queen (each band has its own) waving from a float usually pulled by a shining pickup truck. Also marching was the United States Marine Corps Band, and, wow, did it ever get a standing ovation from the curb sitters as it moved down the parade route.

Originally called the "Central Nebraska Music Festival" the name was changed to Harvest of Harmony in 1946 and is held on the first Saturday after the first full, or "harvest", moon in October. This year 89 bands marched in the parade, but some years have seen even more. One year, in fact, the parade was listed in the Guinness book of world records as having the most bands in a parade when it hosted 132 marching bands.

Some high school bands from larger towns were big and had 100 or more students marching and playing. Schools from the smaller towns offered quite a contrast. This year the smallest band had but nineteen musicians. Alma High School was represented with a contingent of 42 band members, which is pretty good for a grades 7 thru 12 student body of 110 boys and girls. Almost half the student body is in the band. (My sixteen year old grand-daughter, Enchantra, is not in the band. Her talents are not musical, which is to be expected in this family, not one of whom can play an instrument or carry a tune.)

Each band elects its own queen, who then rides a float in front of the marching band and waves to the crowd. In 1952, one of those young ladies in the parade was Sharon Kay Ritchie, who went on to be crowned Miss America in 1956.

The state of Nebraska keeps offering up interesting and surprising events and facts about life in a farming community, and this parade is just one more of the pleasant surprises. Of course, there are other things that go on that don't exactly involve growing crops. Cattle, for instance.

If corn is king in Nebraska, then the raising and selling of cattle comes in a hot second. Here in Alma there is what is called the "Sale Barn", and every Tuesday morning I can hear the mooing of cattle who are not happy to be in that barn - They probably know they are "short timers". People truck the cattle in on Mondays from the local farms and ranches, then the feed lot buyers come in on Tuesday and bid on the animals that fit their requirements. After fattening up in the feed lot, they soon appear on dinner plates from New York to Los Angeles as steaks, hamburgers, roasts, etc. Sad, but true. Because of the importance of cattle to the Nebraska economy, vegetarians are, of course, not popular here. People who decry the consumption of red meat are looked upon as deranged souls who need counseling or a one-way ticket out of state.

My next post is going to cover another surprising discovery for me, "Winter Wheat". I didn't know there was such a thing, but there most certainly is, and I'd like to tell you all about it.

Charlie