I’m drawn to the strength and endurance of the Black Locust trees on our farm. Some in the pastures look like heavyweight boxers in their final round, beaten and exhausted. They withstand so much adversity. Black Locust borers eat their heartwood. Locust leafminers consume their foliage. A perennial fungus attacks...
The Tree-of-Heaven, Ailanthus altissima, (I call it Tree-From-Hell) is the most invasive, destructive, non-native tree in the eastern United States. This tree is the preferred host and breeding ground for another invasive, destructive, and non-native pest: the Spotted Lanternfly. The tree and the insect are native to Asia and they...
Climate Change Journal entry July 18: “I can’t see the mountains this morning.” Smoke from the wildfires in Canada, a thousand miles from our farm, blocked the view of Crawford Mountain. The foot of that mountain is less than two miles away. The Earth is literally on fire. Even AI...
When we first moved to Whiskey Creek in 2020, Jeanne asked me why there weren’t any birds here. “It’s because there is no habitat for them,” I responded. The Gardens of Whiskey Creek We have many gardens now at Whiskey Creek. The vegetable garden, the cut garden, the shop garden,...
The first Earth Day was celebrated in 1970. I remember it well; I was 15 years old and a freshman in high school. The next year, Intel released the first commercially available microprocessor. These events created a wonderful sense of optimism about humanity’s ability to do great things–to save the...
Recently, I received a guilt-free pass from the Princess (wife) to go connect with nature. Yeah, it’s kind of funny since we live on a farm and I’m connecting with nature all the time anyway. I took the cue and headed for the Eastern Shore of Virginia. Birding Eastern Shore...
Galveston, Texas, January 12, 2025. It was raining. Jeanne and I drove through a subdivision of houses on stilts high enough to park cars under. Water pooled everywhere except for the road that was several inches higher than the yards filled with water. Jim Stevenson’s driveway entrance was hidden among...
Note: A real person wrote this: me. All pictures by me unless otherwise noted. There are no paywalls, ads, AI, popups, or surveys. Each year, I review my photos and select ones that give me hope or are really good. I’ve added some reflections as our country enters a new...
The dry, brown grass crunches under my boots as I walk through our pasture. It’s depressing. All our pastures have dried up except one: the native warm-season grass pasture. It’s thriving. It flourishes in warmer temperatures and can tolerate drought conditions.
Spring Surge at Whiskey Creek Regenerative Farming Note: This post was written by a real person: me. There are no popups, paywalls, ads, or AI. All photos are by me unless otherwise noted. The energy of life surges this month. I can feel it in the sun’s warmth, smell it...
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