nature – 4Fords Journal

July 14, 2025: Bastille Day

It’s July and so it’s time for the Tour de France, (a perfect distraction from the news and sorrow over the loss of the North Rim GC lodge.) The TdF is Alan’s and my only sports interest throughout the year. Today is a big day in the mountains, as France celebrates its national day. Go Tadej! Go Sepp Kuss!

In other news, we have been incredibly busy here at 4Fords, partly due to the wonderful work ethic our Worldpackers bring to us lazybones. There’s been a lot of fence-building, enlarging the “yard” to a couple of acres, and replacing the old, rotting fence posts with T-posts.

Rusty driving fence posts

Those old posts are being recycled into log check dams. If we can avoid a huge flash flood for a few years, there’s a chance these will create little green oases. Since living here, we’ve seen 6′ and 4′ floods during the first year, and numerous 14″-18″ runs since then. Our dams will survive up to 2′ of moving water, maybe a bit more, enough to deposit silt and seeds and build protection from future floods. When we moved here, there were no willow. Now, the willow is over 6′ tall. It’s all up to Mother Nature now. Here’s a couple of YouTubes of places successfully using this technique, from small to large: https://youtu.be/k7l-edx0-wg?si=NB44Zhwpt01X7oWd https://youtu.be/c2tYI7jUdU0?si=TvURhYrqewYtX0L3

**One of 15 rock check dams I’ve been constructing to slow and divert flow** **away from the cliff wall and downstream erosion (see willow, too)**

In addition, we’ve finally begun fencing our large pasture; the one with 3 ponds that cattle love to hang out in and overgraze. The plan is to enclose the 10-12 acres with elk-friendly wire and include 2 big gates so cows can have access when there is plenty of both grass and water. That way it gets fertilized, but can start to regenerate. We’ve already added 2 ponds and some berm and swale to lessen the erosion.

**Building fence**: **it’s very hot out there!**

Before that project, Alan became familiar with the backhoe by digging a 3′ hole for our new 1600 gallon cistern. This one is not capturing water directly from the roof, but will be for overflow, bringing our total capture to 5,000 gallons. Our hope is to increase that to 10,000 gallons in the future.

You can never have too much water here in drought-ravaged NM. Our creek is essentially dry for the first time in forever, putting a lot of pressure on wildlife. It is bringing a huge herd of elk, over 60 at last count, down from high up on the mesa, to drink from the last little holding ponds. Without rain, they, too, will be dry shortly. Some rain is in the forecast, but so far has skipped over the canyon to hit the mesas. Every day, I’m filling 2 bird baths and 2 dishes of water for bunnies, chipmunks, and squirrels. There are over 20 species of birds coming to the bird bath every day.

Some of the Elk

We managed to get out for a couple of great summer hikes in the high country at Navajo Peak (South San Juans). The Columbines were out in force, as big as my palm. There were plenty of little creeks for the dogs to get wet and muddy in, so they were happy.

**This Columbine was as large as my hand**

Aspens – Navajo Peak Trail

The garden is doing well, although the daily wind, 40 degree nights, and 90 degree days are taking a toll on the tomatoes, peppers and corn. Not sure how much we’ll get from them. On the other hand, we can already pick potatoes.

**Garden with wind protection.** **(The brown shed in the background is the next thing to demolish!)**

Finally, we’ve taken on learning to make our own corn tortillas, thanks to one of the Worldpackers who taught us the skill. We bought a tortilla press. Alan is better than I am, and we’re enjoying plenty of tacos.

**My first attempt at tortilla making: we are improving**

**Looking forward to a little of this…**

A Poem for December 23

The Night Before the Night Before Christmas

by Alan McComas (with thanks to Clement C. Moore)

'Twas the night before the night before Christmas
And the house was awake,
And the mouse in the house
Was nibbling cake.
While the mouse in the house of the mouse in the house
Was wondering which sweet sugar plum to take.

Now the mouse in the house of the mouse in the house
Was not very tall - she was really quite small.
Though the hole in the wall of the house mouse's house
Was as small as the head of a small silver pin,
Even so, the house mouse's tiny house mouse could fit in!

All the house mouse's children were playing a game
And the rules always changed - they were never the same.
So the game never ended, and never began - 
But when it was over, it started again!

It appears as they played, 
That they ate marmalade,
....And they couldn't sit,
COULDN'T SIT...,
COULDN't SIT STILL!
...So they jumped up to sing on the cold window sill.

"Will this night never pass?" sang the mice in their sorrow.
"Will the hands of the clock never spin to tomorrow?
We are certain tomorrow will be Christmas Eve!
But tonight is the night before that - so we grieve."

So they sang.
But the house mouse's house mouse's children were small,
Much smaller than mice - by a factor of twice!
And though they all sang just as loud as they should,
I'm afraid no one heard them, for nobody could.

So they put all their sweet sugar plums in a line
And they offered them up to Old Father Time.
And humbly they asked the Old Clock, don't you know,
To make Christmas come faster,
For it came much too slow.

Father Time gave a wink, and his hour hand blinked.
His escapements all whirred as he wound up his springs.
His pendulum gurgled, his case sprouted wings!
His bells, how they chortled! His chimes how they tinkled!
He rolled up his sleeves and he made the time wrinkle!

And all in an instant of new fallen snow -
Of hours and minutes and moonlight all aglow,
Of seconds and angels and sparkly star light
The mice children found 
That it WAS the next night!

It was Christmas Eve! The Old Clock brought them there!
...They were slightly confused and had quarks in their hair.

Then Grandfather Clock spread his wings,
And left them quite nimbly - 
With a Whoosh! And a Swoosh!  He flew right up the chimney!

But then out of the chimney appeared in a tick - 
A little old man by the name of St. Nick!
"That was fast!" Santa chuckled.  "Oh my, what a trick!"
Here it is, Christmas Eve!  ...How'd it get here so quick?"

Wishing Everyone a Peaceful, Loving Christmas, a Relaxing Holiday, and a MOST Happy New Year — Rusty and Alan

Father Time Image by Nanne Tiggelman from Pixabay; others free by Creative Commons

December 21, 2024

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything. That’s because both Alan and I took on a lot of work this fall, jobs that are just now beginning to wind down, thank goodness. The work had nothing to do with 4Fords, but padded the bank account, so we can’t complain (much).

We did have a couple of adventures this fall. One was the annual Christmas Tree Expedition and Picnic, which was a grand success. I can’t tell you how many years we have been doing this, but it has been many, and has always been a pleasure. A lot of thought and meandering through the woods goes into choosing just the right tree. This year we found a lovely Blue Spruce.

Another adventure was the gift of some fresh elk, shot on the Jicarilla Tribal Lands by a local. We hung, deboned, and processed about 45# of prime burger, steaks, and roasts. It was quite a job with our limited tools for such work, but we got it done. The dogs kept a very close eye on us throughout.

We also stole a few days to visit Taos, which has become our annual Holiday shopping mecca. Taos remains one of our favorite towns; although the traffic is horrid, the food is awesome, the old town fun, and the people kind.

**Rio Grande Gorge and bridge: is that a river…or a dancing woman wearing an elf hat?**

We got a couple of lovely hikes in along the gorge, one had many petroglyphs.

The Winter Solstice is today. Meteorological Winter began on Dec. 1, so we are, according to the weather folks, already 3 weeks into winter, although we have yet to see snow here. A little fell around Thanksgiving, but then nothing for weeks, leaving the canyon dusty and dry. Nearly zero at night, up in the 50s during the day, makes it nice for hiking, playing with Zane and Clair outside, and chopping firewood, but Alan and I are very ready for some white stuff.

**Meteorological/Astronomical/Celtic Calendar**
(Ccferrie, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

I like the Meteorological Calendar because going by those dates means we are already well into winter, and my birthday, March 1, marks the first day of spring. But I love the Solstices and Equinoxes too because of their significance in history and their neat division of light and dark. A reminder that this Earth of ours is truly a bit off-kilter. Anyway, we will be celebrating the solstice this evening as we watch the sunset on Monero Cliff and look forward to longer days to come.

Our plans include a vacation to SW Arizona after New Year’s Day to visit the RTR (Rubber Tramp Rendezvous), where I have signed up to volunteer as a therapist and support person. I have wanted to visit this event for many years. Not sure why, but I feel a connection to the people who live full-time in their cars, vans, and RVs. At any rate, we will check it out and enjoy some warm weather before coming home to hunker down through winter.

We wish you a brilliant solstice, a renewal of light, some snow and a cozy fire, and a wonderful holiday season! — Alan and Rusty

The Solstice sun rolling off the cliff at 4Fords

October 14, 2024: Fall into “Braiding Sweetgrass”*

Welcome to the season of change and color. We hope you all are getting out to enjoy the cooling weather. We are thinking of those affected by the hurricanes.

I just returned from a 3-day workshop at Ghost Ranch with Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of Braiding Sweetgrass. I am not one to go to, nor really enjoy workshops, but this one was superb and truly inspiring. Robin may be the best storyteller I’ve ever encountered, and her tales of Skywoman and the Twins were mesmerizing.

The focus on the workshop was to talk about parallel ways of knowing, “Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) ” and “Scientific Ecological Knowledge (SEK)”. Robin is both an indigenous teacher and a research biologist, and her career has been working to bring these 2 ways of seeing the world into parallel (but not blended) ways of thinking, each important and of equal value in understanding our complex universe.

I stayed in the campground at the Ranch, as the weather was perfect, the views exquisite, and the cost much less! Alan stayed home with the pups, working on our neighbor’s solar project. It was a chance for me to test our new AC cooler, portable solar array and solar generator, all of which worked perfectly, keeping the cooler cold and the freezer frozen and my phone and lantern charged up.

Ghost Ranch truly is a magical place. If Alan and I stop by for a hike when it is empty, it looks a bit run-down and forlorn, as likely befits a 21,000 acre ranch run by the Presbyterian Church. However, when the place is busy with visitors, it comes alive and feels full of powerful energy. One volunteer, a young woman who has been coming from Boston to help every year since she was 15, said that the valley is a big bowl, surrounded by mountains, just waiting to be filled. It certainly was brimming with good vibes this weekend.

For the first time ever, I joined a Sound Bath, performed by Douglas of Lotus SoundBath in Santa Fe, which was very relaxing. He was set up in a giant yurt, which made the sounds of the gongs, crystals and singing bowls reverberate and move in amazing ways. Again, not usually my thing, but it was well worth it. I was wonderfully calm and happy all day.

A good portion of the weekend was spent talking about the English language, the language of conquest and colonialism. The language of erasure. Robin showed the audience how the word “it” is perhaps the most dangerous word in our language, as “it” allows us to objectify anything that is not human. And once objectified, “it” is easier to extract/kill/clearcut/destroy. Apparently, no indigenous language has a word analogous to “it”. Every thing in nature instead has a name that makes it a “being”. A tree is “being a tree”, for example. There are many times more verbs in the Anishinaabe language, and most native tongues, and many less nouns. And, being a “being” makes a tree or a land harder to destroy. If you see a blackberry bush as a “being”, not an “it”, you realize that picking the fruit is actually killing the plant’s children and you are more likely to act carefully before grabbing the berries and stuffing them in your mouth! There is actually a movement to replace “it” with a new pronoun, a Potawatome word I believe, aki, which means “earth”, and is an action word: “being earth.”

Thus, in most traditions, there is an Honorable Harvest code of conduct, if you will, that guides interaction with the other beings out there. If you are interested in knowing more, here’s a link that explains Honorable Harvest. I think many of us know these things, and may practice them already, but it is interesting that it has been sort of codified within indigenous cultures.

One of the things that came up again and again during the workshop was most of the participants intense fear of the future: feelings of hopelessness and despair over the state of the environment, the future of humans and everything else you can imagine. I do not feel that way. And I think that why I don’t feel that way is because of my daily, constant connection with nature. It may sound silly, but when I spend 6-8 hours every day in direct contact with the land, touching it, feeling it in my fingers, walking it, getting wet or muddy, watching it change day by day, following the plants and trees as they shift, I feel only the strength of the earth, and that gives me hope. The earth prevails.

Speaking of Honorable Harvest, we ended up with a veritable cornucopia of food this year out of my meager garden. Over 50# of tomatoes, many of which are still ripening and I am busy drying and freezing. I don’t have the kind of time needed to do the sauce canning I have done in the past, but I don’t plan on wasting a single tom. I’m saving a few of the best for seeds next year.

We did a wonderful, long hike up into the South San Juans recently, ending up at 11,000′ at a stunning lake. Many of the aspens were just past their peak, but then we’d come around a corner and be stunned by sights like this.

**Magic leaf: see how the veins mimic a human hand?**

We are busier than we like in spite of, or maybe because of, our playtime. I am still teaching 5 classes, although 2 end today and another begins, so it will be 4 from here on out. Alan is still building solar arrays for folks. We are readying the house for winter: stacking firewood, closing up the gardens, rolling up hoses. The weather remains unseasonably warm for October (in the low 80s), but it is freezing at night now. I think we are expected to get cold this weekend.

Wishing you all a wonderful autumn and many good times.

**Yet another picture of us in our happy place**

Namasté

* Kimmerer, R. W. (2015). Braiding sweetgrass. Milkweed Editions.

1/22/2024: Soggy, muddy mess, but fun!

It’s been awhile, but not because nothing has been happening. It’s definitely winter here in the canyon, but the weather has been all over the map: -18 and snowy to 50 degrees and muddy. Recently, it’s been more on the muddy, warm side of things. At one point we had over a foot of the white stuff, but it’s dwindled to nearly nothing. It didn’t freeze last night, which means the County Road is a 4″ mud zone best avoided. Luckily, we are well prepared for this and have food to last weeks, if needed! (Not likely).

In the meantime, Alan and I have settled into a wonderful routine of winter relaxation and work. I am teaching 6 classes this semester, which is too many, but they are going ok so far. It does take a fair amount of my time. One of us takes the pups for a long hike every morning, recently hiking down in the arroyo, up into the woods, and on the ridge above our place, as the snow is easier to traverse than the mud with microspikes. Lots of elk, coyotes and even a fox keep Zane VERY excited. Clair is more sedate, and would rather just chase a stick. Or sleep on the couch.

**Microspikes are a necessity in this weather….**

In the house, we are plugging away at 2 long-planned remodel jobs in the kitchen and bathroom. We truly only “work” a few hours a day at most (hence our slow pace). We’re making good headway with both, although the kitchen is a much longer project. There’s at least a good start with a new counter and sink. I’ve rediscovered my pleasure in creative tile work.

**8622: The number of our home in Bayfield**

The bathroom is about done, other than a little trim work. Our table saw bit the dust recently, so we have to wait for parts before finishing.

There’s a wonderful boulder behind the house I call Beard Rock, Alan calls Cube Rock. (In the summer, the bushes truly resemble an unruly beard.) We have thought about building a platform behind it and putting a teepee on it since we moved in. Maybe this summer!

The teepee we want…courtesy of Nomadics Tipis

We got out last week for an enjoyable stop at the Chama Chili Ski Classic: where a bunch of XC Skiers and Snowshoers braved high winds under a blue sky near Cumbres Pass. Some were really fast! It was fun, but too cold for the pups, so we headed back down and took a hike closer to home.

The birds have been out in force this winter. I do feed them when it is cold and snowy, and they’ve told all their friends and relatives. These are Evening Grosbeaks, I counted well over 50. When they leave, an equal number of LGBs and LBBs move in and grab what the bigger ones leave.

That reminds me: a couple weeks ago, Alan and I watched a bunch of birds foraging at a recently killed elk: 4 Bald Eagles, a couple of vultures, many little birds and a few ravens. 2 of the eagles and ravens were on guard duty, facing away from the kill, searching for larger predators. As Alan and I watched, a coyote came trotting out of the woods and headed their way, hoping, no doubt, to grab a quick meal. One of the ravens gave the warning, and the 2 eagles flew up and toward the coyote, diving, snapping at him, driving him away. A raven followed, cawing wildly in support. Coyote was unable to get any closer, and the birds harried him across the meadow down into an arroyo, where he probably lay low, waiting for the big birds to fill up and go take a nap. The sentinels returned to the feed, this time taking their turn at the meat, while 2 other eagles and ravens replaced them as guards.

I don’t believe that “survival” is about competition, or at least not unless under extreme stress. Survival of the “fittest” has more to do with cooperation and collaboration. There was no doubt that all those birds were helping each other: the eagles grabbing chunks of fresh kill and acting as protection, the vultures and ravens grabbing bits of offal and assisting as needed, the little birds nabbing bugs and bits off the fur which make the meat tastier and safer for the others. They were looking out for each other. Later, satiated, they will go digest….no babies to feed this time of year….and coyote will be able to come get his share. I’ll bet he’s ok with that.

**Break time: London Fog with dipping chocolate, a la Madelayne!**

Overall, this has been a fun and fully enjoyable winter so far, even with the less-than-perfect weather. I find joy every day in small actions: painting a small landscape, placing a tile, walking the pups through untracked snow, sharing hot cocoa with Alan, watching our favorite shows on Netflix. It’s the little things that give the greatest pleasure.

Alan and I wish you the same joy! 😀

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