Independence County, Arkansas is about 60 statute miles southeast of The Mountain. Like Marion County, where we live, it’s “in the green” — that is, the danger of wildfire has been determined by state forestry officials to be “low.”
Despite that, and as of today, Independence County is under a burn ban, imposed by the county judge. (That’s how it works in Arkansas.)
The same could happen here, I suppose, at any time. With that in mind, this morning I gathered up every scrap of trash that’d burn and lit a fire in the barrel.
I expect to do that a bit more often ’til the threat of a ban passes. Gotta stay on top of it.
This day started out gray, cloudy, chalky. Good — our AC units wouldn’t have to work quite so hard. They (and we) could use a break.
Ordinarily I would’ve waited for Laundry Day to travel to Harbor Freight in Mountain Home — the laundromat gets me halfway there — but with guests coming, our weekend will be something between unpredictable and just plain screwed up. So I made the trip today.
Coming off of US Route 62 on my way back, the county road sweeps down a steep grade toward Crooked Creek. As I approached the bridge, I slowed and looked to my left — Arkansas Fish & Game hasn’t yet closed the gate to the Flippin access.
Just for the hell of it, I turned in.
The short stretch of road leading to the parking area and boat launch was badly washed out, still not repaired after heavy rains six weeks ago. No one else was around, so I parked my truck, got out and walked down to the bank.
And I kept walking, all the way out to the middle of Crooked Creek, but my feet didn’t get wet. My boots didn’t get muddy.
Other than a few stagnant pools to my left, the creek bed was dry as a bone.
That’s normal. It happens every summer, the result of seasonal drought. Not all of Crooked Creek looks like this — there’s water at Yellville, albeit low and slow. Even at this spot, south of Flippin, flow continues below-ground.
It felt damned strange today to be high and dry where, some months of the year, the water would be up to my waist (at least). So yeah, the drought is real. But because it’s cyclical, the drought will pass.
I don’t miss commuting to a job, but I’ll confess to envying what Deb gets to see five days a week, especially as the morning sun paints the Ozarkansas landscape.
It looks like a few of the trees on The Mountain are starting to turn toward autumn.
Volunteer of the Day: Not long ago, I misidentified this plant as corn, presuming that it sprouted from wayward kernels meant to attract deer. Now that it’s produced a flowerhead, it’s obvious that what we have here is sorghum (Sorghum bicolor).
To us, that’s a fascinating and potentially important discovery — whether we’ll make use of it as a food source (for ourselves) or cultivate it as forage (for deer, turkeys, etc.) remains to be seen.
Late-summer blooms forming on the maypop (purple passionflower) vines continue to amaze. They look straight out of fantasy, as if to prove that Mother Nature dabbled in hallucinogens in her youth.
And now, for those who think there’s not enough sex on Ubi Libertas Blog, here’s an image of two goldenrod soldier beetles (Chauliognathus pensylvanicus) making bug-love on the petals of a purple passionflower.
You’re welcome.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB