My search for land began in earnest in 2002, after musing and dreaming of different ideas and realizing that despite my hard work, incredible good looks, and spoon-bending mental powers, there was not much chance of leaving my children much of a nest egg.  But land is always land, the financial value may rise and fall, but it’s always there and all the scientists in all the world haven’t figured out a great way to make more of it.  A place to come home, return to, and connect with nature always grows in value.

Much of the work on a ranch is daily care taking: keeping up with the consequences of altering the landscape. As William Paul Winchester shares in  a A Very Small Farm:

There is almost nothing an amateur working alone cannot do, from building a house or a barn or a shed to stretching a fence and hanging gates. And pitted against his constructive and orderly efforts are the familiar antagonists of a small farm — age, weathering, hard use by animals, and the consequences of altering the landscape.

But some improvements will only be enjoyed by my children and perhaps their children, 10, 20 and 30 years to the future.  The row of crab apple trees along the highway will offer a shaded, blooming vista by 2020 or so.  The native grasses in the pheasant habitat will have matured nicely.  The apple, cherry and other fruit trees on the east side of the cabin will be in their prime.  And as a private joke to a few of my readers, I might even have the trim finished on the cabin.

I don’t post much about my children — mostly to protect their privacy and let them build their own lives.  But this is Father’s Day and I think a great time to honor my children.  They excel in ways every parent would be proud.  They make good decisions, surround themselves with great friends, and share a magical connection that few siblings know. If it is true that “the acorn never falls far from the tree,” then credit is also due their mothers, who have instilled values, love, and pride in each  of them, through hard times and joyful celebration.

Two Mile is theirs.  Enough room for the three of them to build here and be as close — or as far — from each other as they choose.  It will be secured in a legal trust:  to keep it mortgage, judgment, and divorce proof, and will require the three to agree should they choose to sell.  And while I hope they choose to deed it to their children, the choice and future are theirs alone to make.

But I joke, too, that when it’s time for me to leave, they may drive directly from the funeral parlor parking lot and head straight for the real estate office.  Kind of like that old Ole and Lena story:

Ole finally dies, leaving Lena to settle his estate.  She goes to the newspaper and places an obituary:

“Ole died.”

The newspaper editor, says, “Lena, I know money is tight, but you shouldn’t feel restricted in your time of sorrow.  You should write more about Ole and the first FIVE words are free.”

Lena paused for a moment, and with the hint of a tear in her eye, re-wrote the obituary:

“Ole died.  Farm for sale.”

Chase, center, during an Improv comedy workshop. Image (c) Andrew Bossi, Flickr

Noah, center, posing in costume from this year's Good Friday services

Cara (Carolyn, after my mother) with Zinger in the grass.

My dad, Fred Nordengren, probably taken Thanksgiving, 1975

Actually, that first line has some mis-truths.  The Eastern Red Cedar is a native tree to North America and is not a true cedar, but a juniper.  Because it is not naturally part of the prairie, and both the shade they create and the water they consume restricts regular growth of grasslands, the Cedar tree is considered invasive. The trees don’t flower until they are about 10 years old, and the berries are often eaten by birds, making the transmission of seeds across lots of miles of ground easy.

Last year's USDA fly over - note the cedar trees scattered

To get a sense of  where these trees have grown, click the 2009 aerial image to the left and get a view of the topography and clusters of trees. The big pond is in the left third of the image, about in the center. In this photo, the little pond is covered with pond meal  and reflects the light. The right two thirds of the photo is the managed habitat for pheasants, deer, and songbirds.  Two Mile Ranch gently rolls, with elevations varying about 50 feet.  On the far West, the left edge of the photo, is 7 Mile Road. The ground gently slopes down to the pond levels, then rises halfway and down again. On this halfway crest is where the barn, bird pens, and cabin sit. Terrain rises up on the east side, right, of the big pond and crests about one third across the photo. It drops down again and rises back up about two thirds across the photo, then gently slopes to the east, right, property line.

The ground also slopes from north to south, resulting in drainage down the hills east and west and generally north to south.  That’s created some erosion issues over time. I’ve included aerial photos dating back to the 1930s to show the evolution of the farm in the last 80 years.

Cedar trees, are the beginnings of a new habitat. Over time, the grass filled prairie converts to a scattered tree savanna, then to a sparse woodland, and ultimately to timber.  The US Fish and Wildlife Service suggests  that an acre of cedar trees can use 55,000 gallons of water. This translates into roughly 2 inches of rain. Historically, prairies remain prairie because of wildfire. Fire started by lightning and later by man allowed huge sections of prairie to burn, controlling new woody brush, weeds, and encouraging and strengthening grasses.

So with that little bit of ecology lecture out of the way, let’s look at the task at hand. I didn’t do a count, but I estimate between 300 and 400 volunteer Cedar trees over the 60 acres of habitat. Many of them are clustered in the 20 acres or so from the big pond to the valley between the two hills. My original thought was to hire a contractor with a skid steer and tree sheer to remove the trees. But after learning both local contractors were booked solid, I remembered  a quote I heard on NPR from J. David Bamberger, http://www.bambergerranch.org/

“You don’t need a bulldozer. You need a chainsaw, wheelbarrow, axes, hand tools, and a lot of friends coming out from time to time, and a little time. You can buy used equipment — don’t waste your money on new — and you can accomplish on your property what I’ve done here.” (quoted on NPR)

So by working a few hours each day, I’ve begun removing the trees with the goal of having them down by Friday. Later posts will show progress and my results.

In December 2009 world leaders meet in Copenhagen to agree on a post-Kyoto policy for tackling climate change. One billion people voting with their light switch during Earth Hour will create a powerful mandate for our leaders to take strong and decisive action on climate change in Copenhagen.

Earth Hour is asking bloggers to help spread the word about the importance of turning your lights out for one hour at 8.30pm on March 28.

MICHAEL POLLAN: And that, there is a real crisis in the inner city with access to fresh produce. And we know, distance from a source of fresh produce is a predictor of health.

BILL MOYERS: What do you mean, crisis?

MICHAEL POLLAN: Crisis because, in West Oakland, a neighborhood sort of like this, or where I live. I live in Berkeley. West Oakland is an area that has about 26 convenience stores, liquor stores, that sell processed food, and not a single supermarket. No source of fresh produce. You might get some onions and potatoes in that convenience store, but that it is. Yet, it’s full of fast food outlets. So you have, a fresh food desert, in effect. And that is one of the reasons that people in the inner city have such higher rates of diabetes. There is a demand for fresh and healthier food that’s not being served.

As they get more specific, Moyers asks for some quick things to make a difference in our health.

BILL MOYERS: What else? Give me a list, quickly, of what we can do to make a difference in this reforming the food system.

MICHAEL POLLAN: Well, plant a garden. If you’ve got space, and if you don’t, look into a community garden where you might rent a little bit of space, like we saw in East New York.

Cook. Simply by starting to cook again, you declare your independence from the culture of fast food. As soon as you cook, you start thinking about ingredients. You start thinking about plants and animals, and not the microwave. And you will find that your diet, just by that one simple act, that is greatly improved. You will find that you are supporting local agriculture, because you’ll care about the quality of ingredients. And you know, whether you’re cooking or not is one of the best predictors for a healthy diet. It’s more important than the class predictor. People with more money generally have healthier diets, but affluent people who don’t cook are not as healthy in their eating as poor people who still cook.(emphasis mine) So, very, very important. If you don’t have pots and pans, get them.

The show and complete transcript are here