The owners of this land are in a conflagration over its status. This is not uncommon. Ownership of land has inflamed many and wrought dispute throughout history. That such discussion should suddenly arise among these owners, like a wildfire, catches them all by surprise. Land is a potent resource, and its symbolism in our lives looms larger than we know. Competing points of view echo back and forth, trying to find consensus, in a malstrom of dissension.

What is the economic value of this bobcat, recently filmed on our farm in the dark of night? Well, the hide might be worth $100, and that is it. Nobody eats the meat. I have never seen a live bobcat, so this one feels like it is worth a million dollars to me. And what about the stunning coyote below and the elegant heron preparing for flight? What are they worth?

A refrigerated semi-truck full of trees arrived from western Missouri last week. We learned en route they were arriving a day early. Six people had to change their schedules at the last minute. The semi arrived half an hour before the truck into which we were to unload the trees. But we marshalled the team and adapted.

This full double rainbow was spectacular to witness. One afternoon in January, it appeared out of the mist and stretched from one end of the farm to the next, lasting about half an hour. We had never seen such a display before and fortunately were present enough to witness it. I couldn't capture the full panorama with the camera, but we did with our regard. We were tempted to examine the landing points of the rainbow to see if gold had been left behind, but decided instead the riches were in the display itself. This was a mesmerizing experience, and we couldn't help feeling a blessing of sorts was being bestowed upon our land.

Infinite possibilities. In Women In Love, D.H. Lawrence exclaims: Real men love not one thousand women one way, but love one woman one thousand ways...

Do we live on principal or interest? Do we take what we want or do we take what is offered? Wanting describes western culture and receiving describes indigenous cultures. The indigenous women of the Peruvian Amazon, mentioned in the last several newsletters, receive the bounty of the forest by lightly harvesting its abundance for their nutritional and financial sustenance. They consider the forest to be a generous benefactor, which they revere and protect, so it may sustain them indefinitely. They live with a sense of abundance, cooperation, and infinite time.

Turkeys were processed this morning. They have led a great life over the past 4 months, grazing clover, scratching for grubs, and being moved every day. They are a fair size, the specifics of which we will know more about when we pick them up on Monday. We are aiming for 16 - 20 lbs./bird, but know a number will be larger. Any bird over 25 lbs we are having cut in half. We also will have a number of whole breasts, which is a small carcass without legs and thighs. Place orders for Thanksgiving here. These turkeys will be frozen, and delivered in October and November to Madtree and Montgomery.

Wetlands create connection. These are restored wetlands on our farm in Pike County, Ohio. The beautiful daisy is Marsh Marigold or Bidens Aristosa. Over the past fifty years, we have invested work, love, and resources into this farm. We have not only produced grassfed meats and milk, as you well know, but are increasingly restoring wetlands. Climate change is telling us to do this, and in so doing we are discovering ecological connection with lands throughout hemispheres.

We are creating a flyway for water fowl. In so doing, we are learning why most ponds and lakes are created by putting a dam in a ravine, rather than by digging out every inch of the depression. Since we prefer the challenging route to most ends, we are excavating two sites for ducks and geese, by removing soil from the surface down. We are discovering this approach calls on an enormous amount of digging!

We are exploring stillness. As the population of animals on the farm decreases, we find ourselves experiencing a peculiar sensation - stillness. This is new to me, at least, for having habitually strived for ever greater horizons. It is hard to forsake such ingrained patterns, but the art of life is knowing when to change lanes. So, here we are changing from the frenetic to the calm.

As the red moon rises and night dawns, we utter our last call to the beeves. About a month ago, it became clear that my managing our beeves solo through the heat of the summer was not a prudent plan. We have a moral contract with livestock to provide the best care possible. This means all matters that arise are tended to regardless of timing or weather. Excuses for inaction are not indulged. Problems with water, electricity, shade mobiles, mineral, equipment, and grass are addressed immediately.

We are redirecting flow of water, by severing and blocking tile-lines. Tile-lines are laced throughout our farm to drain wet fields for agricultural production. Now that we are reestablishing wetlands and hydric-loving trees are planted in specific fields, we are impeding flow of water in those fields to recreate saturation typical of wetlands. This white tile-line emptied into the creek. Mike cut it with his track-hoe and then packed the hole with dirt to block further drainage. Just beneath the bottom of that hole is a layer of blue clay, which holds water and keeps it from dissipating downward, ensuring saturation of the soil.