The day's activities reflected a very similar day from my youth ... driving a tractor and mower in endless circles around a field.
There were differences, of course, as time and circumstance have changed many of the components of the scene: today I am alone in the task of clearing fire break lanes through a pine plantation, whereas "back in the day" there would have been a small gang of us (cousins, uncles, and maybe a neighbour pitching in), working as a team to clear the field of waiting hay bales.
Despite those differences, other vignettes remained intact, as from the commanding view of the tractor's seat there is ample opportunity to observe nature, whether studying the cloud formations and determining the possibility of rainfall, to catching a glimpse of a meadow vole dashing for cover.
It was these experiences that mirrored my 15-year-old self who once-upon-a-time worked up a summer's sweat handling hay and grain.
Right at the start of today's work agenda, a good-sized milk snake was seen scooting across an open patch, heading with annoyed haste into the shelter of some nearby longer grass.
This was a very exciting observation. A few decades earlier this would have been a regular, almost daily, encounter as in that time a milk snake was to be found under every other hay bale or grain stock. They controlled the rodent populations in the fields and around the barn, and were left unmolested.
Should you check the list of Ontario’s wildlife species that are now considered at risk of becoming endangered, it will reveal the inclusion of the once common milk snake. So, too, the bobolink, meadowlark, and barn swallow, all species that were once as common as dandelions on any and every farm, all now struggling to find a place to call home.
Directing the growling tractor to another alley of the lane system, there is a wince of guilt as the field that now grows pine, oak, and walnut in lovely straight rows was once an open pasture field ... time and circumstance have come into play.
Due to the wet weather pattern of the last couple months, it has been several weeks since these grassy strips had been mowed. Even today a sprinkle of rain greets me as the power take-off is engaged and the heavy blades begin their ominous whirring.
Rounding a wide corner I surprise a family of wild turkeys: a mom and about 10 wee poults. The little brown fuzzballs struggle to keep up with ma as she heads for the cover of the pine trees. I push the clutch down and wait until the chaos subsides and the last straggler slips away.
The sun has become the dominant feature of the sky and the air has warmed up considerably.
Butterflies emerge from hiding to visit the bevy of wildflowers that bloom along the edges; a count of plants in bloom comes in at 15 species, and most have a butterfly associated with them. The milkweeds have just begun to open their blossoms, and three monarch butterflies are seen randomly flitting about, laying their eggs.
Unfortunately, the monarch butterfly is also on that list shared with the above mentioned birds and snake. Knowing that milkweed is the only plant that can sustain their soon-to-be-hatched young, I wiggle the tractor to the side of the lane and avoid whacking down a patch of the pink-flowered plants.
On about the fifth lap, a hitch-hiker lands upon me: a gorgeous great spangled fritillary butterfly, its orange and brown wings quite distinctive. It has settled on the back of my yellow leather glove, probing the surface with its long tongue, finding salt residue left from other work days.
The butterfly hangs on for several more laps of the field, distracting me from holding the steering wheel in straight lines. Even as I spin the wheel, hand over hand around the corners, it clings on, regaling in the taste of tanned leather and old sweat.
There is a wet spot in the field where rainfall flows as surface water down to the nearby creek. The big black tires squish through this dip and the tread marks create mini streams of clear water. Also punched into the dark muck are the hoof prints of a white-tailed deer, and I wonder if this is one of the pair seen on the road a few mornings ago.
Nature appreciation is a hard skill to master, especially since there are so many levels that can be applied.
Some might think to appreciate the grandeur of nature you have to go to the great vistas of the Rockies, or the coasts of the sea or oceans that contain Canada, or go deep into ecologically unique biomes to discover rare, untamed nature.
However, for many of us, a simple walk (or in this case a tractor ride) can reveal any number of interesting experiences. Just keep your eyes, ears and mind open to the little things going on around you, and soon you will start to see the interconnectedness of it all.
