Chestnut Mountain View
The other morning, this is how I saw Chestnut Mountain. When I go to feed, one of the first things I see is the mountain through the row of white pines that serve as a windbreak between my pasture and my house.
Chestnut trees, of course, no longer grow on Chestnut Mountain,. The blight in 1913 killed them. But over a hundred years ago, the mountain would have been white with their blossoms in the spring. I wish I had been around to see them.
Here's another view of the mountain beyond the new-plowed fields near my property's edge.
And a closer view:
The other morning, when I went out to feed the critters, I stared and stared at the mountain. I'm trying to fix the view of it in my mind, so when the big power lines soon go between my property and the mountain, I'll remember the view before progress marred it.
Already the power company is bringing in the big metal poles. Here's one that will soon be erected on the dairy farm.
And here's how the line will run; this truck is marking the place for a pole on the next road over:
Eventually the line will follow this swath, recently cut through the woods, on its path to deliver power to the lake area.
Meanwhile, I can't look at Chestnut Mountain hard enough.
When I took this photo, Spotz the barncat was waiting for me and Melody was at the round bale. Behind Melody is the run-in shed; to the right of the shed is the kennel. Beyond my fence are fields and—way in the distance—the diary farm. Chestnut Mountain is beyond the dairy farm.
Chestnut trees, of course, no longer grow on Chestnut Mountain,. The blight in 1913 killed them. But over a hundred years ago, the mountain would have been white with their blossoms in the spring. I wish I had been around to see them.
Here's another view of the mountain beyond the new-plowed fields near my property's edge.
And a closer view:
This is how the mountain looks from the road.
The other morning, when I went out to feed the critters, I stared and stared at the mountain. I'm trying to fix the view of it in my mind, so when the big power lines soon go between my property and the mountain, I'll remember the view before progress marred it.
Already the power company is bringing in the big metal poles. Here's one that will soon be erected on the dairy farm.
And here's how the line will run; this truck is marking the place for a pole on the next road over:
Eventually the line will follow this swath, recently cut through the woods, on its path to deliver power to the lake area.
Meanwhile, I can't look at Chestnut Mountain hard enough.
~
Labels: rural life
posted by Becky Mushko | 4:39 PM
2 Comments:
Sorry to hear about the power lines. we have them running through our property and, honestly, they are the best neighbor! we can use the land under them as long as don't lock the Utility out of their access. When it's foggy or raining/snowing, the lines hiss. I'd take them as neighbors any day of the week. Beats the hillbilly ilk that we used to live next to. You will eventually learn to look past them, promise ;-)
We have smaller power lines running through our farm down the road. AEP cuts trees near them (mountain laurel that isn't a threat) and leaves the debris lying in the horse trail, then sprays herbicide over all (including creek). When we gave permission for a line to cross our farm corner, I was promised by an AEP rep that the dogwood and a few other trees wouldn't be cut. Later that summer, AEP cut everything, left a pile of debris, and then sprayed everything nearby—including the mailbox.
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