Saturday, January 19, 2013

Winter Day on the Fen

FEN: a peat-forming wetland which receives nutrients from other sources than precipitation and whose soil is generally less acidic and more nutrient rich than bogs thus able to support a greater diversity of plant and animal life.  They are generally covered in grasses, sedges, rushes and wildflowers. Usually occurring in the Northeastern United States, Great Lakes region, the Rocky Mountains and much of Canada -- they have low temperatures and short growing seasons.

I am lucky.  I live near a fen.  When I moved to Northeast Ohio, I had no idea what a fen was.  It is now one of my favorite places to hang.  In all seasons, it is a magical place.  The shifting grasses rustle along the boardwalk which, like a thin ribbon of civilization, runs around the edge of the fen. Standing tall in the distance,the Tamaracks beckon, needle puffs wave like flags in the summer sun.  Yet like deciduous trees, in winter, their bare branches stand naked to the wind and snow.  Chickadees find food and shelter amongst the Tamarack stand. 

Underneath the trees, there is a world of survival going on. Grasses and raspberry bushes crowd together.  Along with the plants we would call "weeds", unusual wildflowers grow, providing a home and sustenance for voles, rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks and birds.  All the while, the fen lays beyond the tree's edge and at the far end, the  Phragmites australis grow.  Invasive beyond belief, they do provide cover for the deer who forage here.  Once, a buck and I frightened each other as we both quietly went about our business of feeding and curious roaming.

Up the hill from the fen is a great stand of Poplar.  The trail weaves up and through these giants dipping down to two more ponds filled with Canada Geese and Mallards.  You can see that once in a wetter time they all were linked with run off spillways sending their excess into the fen below.  Now, the ponds hold the water as their own.  The Poplars, however, still send their branches straight into the sky, smooth bark a target for the uneducated who leave their mark on it and so I see the usual messages...people thinking that this will provide them with some measure of immortality.  

Always, on the way back to my car, I find my time in the fen has gone too quickly and my feet must hurry, in a race with sundown.  So, my last impressions are dark trees against a flaming orange, blue, pink, raspberry sky, studded with the ever present clouds of Northeast Ohio. Stunning!  

On this walk,  I see "my" Red-Tailed Hawk fly from behind me where the farmer lives, across the fen to settle in the branches of the darkening trees.  A silent messenger to me to remember that like the hawk, my eyes need to see the future with a sharp vision, to pick my target and then go after it with all the energy I have, like my life depends on its capture...to hold in my heart that at Evensong when the sun goes down, find a comfortable perch and end the day, singing in joy to the dying sun.  To also consider that the night brings its on kind of darkness...thus, enjoying the brightness and warmth for as long as possible will bring you through to when the sun rises again.

 

2 comments:

  1. Ok Vera, You started this blog, so please post something more often! I keep checking and hoping. Cheers...

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  2. Lady Di,
    I am doing my best....Will try to accomplish your request! I appreciate that you enjoy what I post. I'm working on several other writing projects right now! :)

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