By Kimberly Mayer
Spring is upon us and I know I must go headlong into it. “That’s the thing about gardening,” notes Maggie O’Farrell, “there’s always something to do, you’re only ever just catching up with yourself.” First, I had everything to clean up from winter winds. In other places people worry about break-ins. On island it’s the outdoors that gets ravaged.
I call it picking up sticks, and it’s a chore I actually enjoy. You might say I have more in common with George W. Bush today than I ever did during his presidency. Surely you remember him going off to clear brush on his horseless ranch in Central Texas. It was how he unwound, they said. Well, the same might be true with me although I’m not the president of anything, nor am I starting any wars.
I find it interesting how many U.S. presidents were brush clearers. According to presidential scholar Tim Blessing of Alvernia University in Reading, PA: Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Andrew Jackson, Teddy Roosevelt, and Ronald Reagan. But perhaps none as tenacious as George W. Bush in the canyons, rocky hillsides, and pastures of his ranch outside Crawford, Texas. “Local agronomists say brush control has been a part of rural Texas since the Dust Bowl days of the 1930’s.” (Down on the Ranch, President Wages War on the Underbrush, Lisa Rein 12/2005 Washington Post)
Unlike Bush, I am not whacking down stands of trees, making ear-splitting noise with chain saws, or burning piles. On my little wooded lot by the bay on San Juan Island, I simply put on gloves and boots and pick up Douglas Fir, Cedar and pine sticks, branches and boughs. “Calling cards” from the winds, I call them.
One thing leads to another, and I think about all the recently felled trees on Roche Harbor Road. Fallen branches, fallen trees, this is where the mind wanders when everything is falling down. While we understand OPALCO’s intent in trying to prevent a Maui-like wildfire along high-voltage power lines–those winter winds again–it is distressing to see so many trees downed. And aesthetically it’s unacceptable. On every trip to town and back I pondered, what can be done, what can we do?
And then I got it: bicycle paths!
Bicycle paths running within the powerline easement, crossing creeks, pastures, and a vineyard. Hopping over ravines, and alongside lakes. Climbing hills, and sometimes disappearing into woods. The tricky part is how often the power lines leap across Roche Harbor Road from side to side. How will cyclists do it? But I’ll leave that to others, and just say I can see it in my mind’s eye.
Now on every trip to town and back on Roche Harbor Road I find myself mentally riding the bicycle path off the road. It’s attractive in that it follows the contours of the land—mountain bikes, anyone?– and far more fun. Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, if you will.
Originally published 4/17/2024 in The Journal of the San Juan Islands
a little elbow room
a little elbow room 
enjoyed reading about picking up twigs. I to do that when I’m outside w doggy. It is a task that is simple. But gives one a sense of duty and accomplishment
It’s the funniest thing but it does, like you’re putting things in order.
Another fascinating piece by you my friend. So much thought and insight. You were always brilliant 🥰❤️🥰
It’s just fun to see where it goes sometimes.
(#99 in what I love about writing)
Three conifers and a palm tree surround my little garden, and they all contribute lots of “sticks” of various sizes, from pine needles to palm fronds and branches, throughout the year. So I enjoyed this musing on our tidying tasks. Thank you!
Kim, just lovely. We have sticks aplenty in our back yard, but I don’t get as much joy as you picking them up. And another task — pulling up those pesky maple saplings that have sprouted all over our lawns.
As for bike paths, we love the ones near us.
Love,
Tug
We now live a maple grove, as you know. Yes, the color is wonderful in the fall — but then come the dead leaves. 5 inches of leave that cover the back and front yards. Oy!
I thought my joy in picking up sticks rather odd to, that’s why I wrote about it.
As for the maple saplings, they may be trying to tell you something. How would you like to live in a maple grove?
Imagine the colorful display come fall. I love that your bike paths are already up!
I love that you relate to this task with palm fronds. I once lived in Southern California, and now try to spend a little time there every winter. So I feel like we might be neighbors.
I love that you relate to this task with palm fronds. We once lived in Southern California, and now try to spend a little time there each winter. So I feel like we’re neighbors.