I now know why the huge bull dozers have been working north of the Land at the edge of the neighbor's field. But I couldn't understand why two majestic blue herons were flying over and over the massive bull dozer.

Later on, as I drove up Steward Road and looked over to the creek north of my property, every single tree, every bush, and every plant that lined both sides of Willow Creek, providing lush habitat for the area wildlife, is gone. Just gone. Mammoth piles of huge trees were placed here and there in the fields to be burned. Nothing remained on either side of Willow Creek.

Then I knew.

I knew why the blue herons (who mean so much to me) were so agitated. Their home was suddenly destroyed. It was 20 degrees out yesterday. Last night it was 12 degrees. Where would the blue herons find nesting material in this snowy, ice cold terrain to build a new nest?

I was sick at heart.

Please, dear Reader, don't ever tell me that industrialized farmers have a  deep feeling for their land, for their soils, their waterways, their creeks, their wildlife. It's always money that drives them to spray chemicals, poisoning the groundwater, the creeks, the air. It's always the thought of a little  more money that drives them to cut down trees even if it means more erosion. Whoever was in the bull dozer probably didn't bat an eye at the confused and anxious blue herons, forlorn and lost.

My heart is so heavy.

My guess is my neighbor cut down every living tree and plant along the banks of Willow Creek because: 1) the government has taken away the payment they were giving him to help erosion control, and/or 2) he thinks he can make more money planting corn/soybeans there. It doesn't really make any difference what I think. I guess the farmer's thinking doesn't matter to t he blue herons, either. All they know is...their home is gone and it's freezing.

Blue herons mean a great deal to me. I would like to share a personal story with you so you understand why they mean so much to me. This is a true story which happened in July, 1996.

I had driven 2000 miles from Lake Oswego, Oregon, where I was living at the time, to the Land. I always visited the Land each year for as long as I could.

That July I set up my tent where the cottage is now.Every morning before I worked on the Land (yep! more pruning!) - I ate my breakfast sitting in a lawn chair overlooking the lake.

This particular morning I was deep in thought as I ate breakfast. I was going through a difficult time...and my escape to "The Land" was just what my soul needed.

As I stared off into space that beautiful, sunny summer morning, something caught my eye on the other side of the shore. It was a blue heron! I was happy to see it.

Then a strange thing happened.

The blue heron took off, flying across the lake - right at me!

I knew this wasn't right. I thought to myself, "He must not see me." So I moved in my chair, so he would be sure to see the movement  andveer off.

He continued to fly right toward me.

Uncomfortable now - for him  and me - I moved even more in my chair. I knew he would not fly toward a human being. Still he came.

By now he is getting so close, and I realize something very important. He knows I am here. Still he is flying to me.

Dear Reader, my heart is pounding. I've always been close to nature's creatures since I was a little girl on our farm in Iowa. But this - this is quite out of the ordinary. The Great Blue Heron flying at me both frightened and enlivened me.

He landed not ten feet away. He came down so gracefully, parallel to me - huge wings out - facing straight ahead, looking in the opposite direction I was facing.  He was as tall as I was as I sat in the lawn chair! I was in awe.

To cover my fright, I am talking to him now...with my heart pounding so loudly. I'm talking to him, telling him softly how beautiful he is. I can barely hear my voice over my pounding heart.

He, in a dignified manner, tucks his wings in, still looking ahead.

Then...

Then (oh, dear Reader I can not even think  of this part without being overwhelmed) ... he turned his head...

...and his eyes...(I'll never foget his eyes) - his eyes focus on me, looking deeply into my own eyes. He never looks at anything else...just into my eyes.

...Perhaps my voice stopped then - I'm not sure. All I know is my heart was still pounding loudly and my eyes were locked into his.

How long we held our gaze like this, I have no way of knowing. Perhaps half a minute, perhaps a minute or five minutes.

His eyes. I've never seen eyes like that. Never. They were so deep and serious and...and compassionate.There was a depth to them...ah, it is so hard to explain.

I've never felt  like this. Never.

Motionless, we looked at each other for a long time.

Then, in the same stately manner, he slowly and calmly turned his head away from me, looking forward. A few seconds later, he unfolded his wings - they were so large they practically touched me!

Effortlessly, he lifted off the ground, flew a complete circle of the lake and flew out of sight.

.........
Dear, dear Reader. I sat there  on that hot July morning- so still - for a long time. I truly did not know what his
appearance meant. I still don't.

All I know is...Jack passed away within months, and my life changed forever.

All I know is...The Land remains the same, even surrounded by gigantic wind turbines, even with a newly built "private" airstrip which seems quite commercial - even with anal neighbors from Wheaton who set up and use a portable, open toilet right next to my fence line --

 - the Land remains the same. Giving comfort, solace, steadfastness, joy. It is always here.

All I know is ...A Native American friend in Boulder, Colorado, upon hearing the Blue Heron story, explained that most Native Americans would give  anything to have something like this happen to them.

All I know is...the Blue Heron was flying across the lake to see ... me. He knew I was there. He was coming to see me. I'm not sure why. I do know I love the Land.  Always have. Always will. The Great Blue Heron knew this.

                                                        "A Calling Crane hidden in the  shade.
                                                        Its offspring respond in harmony.
                                                        'I have a winged wine vessel.
                                                        Come to me and I will simply pour it out."
...........

To see two blue herons flying above their decimated home yesterday breaks my heart.

Good night, dear Reader. Good night.

Morning:

Good news! Randy, the owner of Ekana Nurseries in Mendota, along with his landscape designer, Mike, will visit the house site next week, and give me their "take" on exactly where the house should be located on the hill.  We have a pretty good idea where it's going to be. Mom, who sited my present cottage, has given her opinion, as well as Dave Feltes (retired from Universityof Illnois-Extension, who occasionally comes over to help with the bees), Dave H.  and even Smitty and Chris! I  value all of their opinions. Now Randy and Mike from Ekana will add their opinions. I can't wait!

I'm running errands today. But before I go, I stand in front of the cottage looking out at the pond, still all white, with a hazy sun overhead. Even though it isn't full strength, I feel the sun's warmth. There is no wind. It's absolutely still. Paradise.

I smile. I look up at the hill.  ...Little by little, step by step, you, dear Reader, and I will develop this House-on-the-Hill. I know you will be just as thrilled as I will be.

I sigh a  good sigh  - a sigh of contentment. How fortunate am I!

Later Afternoon:
Returning to the Land, I check out the greenhouse. It's nearly 80 degrees in there! Only 24 degrees outside, yet the greenhouse is picking up the sun's warmth as it tilts higher in the sky. I hustle back to the cottage, quickly heat up water on the stove, pour it in my solar shower and whoosh! I'm out in the greenhouse taking a very comfortable shower! Who ever said one has to have running water to enjoy the comforts of home? And how I appreciate each shower I have! Taking baths in small containers is wearing thin about now. But then, you must keep in mind my famous saying" "Never underestimate a woman who can take a bath in a dishpan and come out smelling like a rose!""

Ah, but a shower in the greenhouse. How nice it is!

Enough of the practicality of living out in the wilds...

The Telegraph ran my letter to the editor in today's newspaper on page A6 (The Reader's Voice) with the title: "Shook up about quake, fault lines and nuke plant." I still can't imagine why any geologist or engineer would okay a nuclear power plant near, or over, an earthquake fault. Dear Reader, take a look at the two northern-most fault lines in the photo above, which came out of the Rockford Register Star yesterday. (The Star did an excellent job of reporting.) You can see where the lower of the two faults really does end at Oregon (if you know your maps well) and the uppermost fault (Plum River fault) really does end under or near Byron. Amazing! And may I say, quite scary, too.

I guess I'll do what everyone else does...I won't think about it -- until we're hit with another earthquake. (!)

Alana composed her letter to Ed Begley, Jr. What a sweet letter. She shared it with me, so I am sharing it with you.

"Dear Ed,

A dear friend of mine, Jane Heim, is planning and going to build a green home. The home and surrounding acreage which includes a beautiful pond and trees, will be used for retreats, teaching folks about sustainable living, etc. We live in northern Illiinois, Paw Paw area, where turbine farms are located.

We would enjoy you giving us any suggestions/ideas regarding obtaining recycled materials, solar panels, etc. Jane now lives in a small cottage, with no running water, heated by a wood stove. She is getting older and would like to have a new home with running water, solar heat, etc. that she would share with others. Jane is a very active, delightful individual, who helps people and her community in many ways.

Please visit her wonderful blog site at  www.buildthathouse.com

I chuckled over the "getting older and would like to have a house with running water..."  I truly have such wonderful, kind friends helping me.Which reminds me, thanks to Dave H., I now have five fishing poles ready for my family (and friends) when they visit. It's going to be a great summer!And thanks to many hours of work by D.S. Vanderbilt, I have a good video to share on YouTube.

The sun is setting - glowing modestly pink just above the white earth -everything soft and muted. Time to send out my seed orders.

Dear Reader, may you  enjoy the Olympics, and have an evening as still and beautiful as it is out here on the Land ...

Afternoon:

Lots of contrails today. On all sides of me. Probably the contrails are from  the planes patrolling around...not only the power plant...but the wind turbines. The turbines have to be watched, too, I guess. So I am privileged to have a private show of white streaks across the sky. They make me feel so special!

I was supposed to have a visitor today from a company that wants to dump concrete along my banks. He cancelled and we made another appointment for next week.

My "Dear Editor" submission about the fault lines around Byron Nuclear Power Plant is scheduled to be run tomorrow (Friday, February 12) in the Salk Valley Telegraph (formerly Dixon Telegraph).

Smitty(and son?)  and Chris made it out today! And such a beautiful, sunny day it is!

Yesterday as I shoveled out from our latest snow, I trudged out to the mailbox where a package dangled. I thought it was a book I ordered. I trudged back and started opening it when I realized Amazon would not have sent a book in a box labeled, "Wisconsin Cheese Factory."  Slowly it dawned on me it was a box of chocolates! Yes, raspberry-fudge chocolates in the shape of hearts, sent to me from "A. Knisan" with best wishes. "A. Knisan" is someone's way of saying its from Nissan (where I purchased my new Murano), but I am privy to the fact that this 3-tiered layer of chocolates really came from dear Michael (Dr. Witt, as I call him. He is a retired surgeon.) He knows my weakness - anything chocolate! I'm trying - mind you I say "trying" - to show some discipline...but raspberry and fudge together ...how can I resist?  Michael makes me feel special, too. Everyone is making me feel very special lately! How I love it!

My meeting with Floyd went well. He is so concerned over the loss of habitat for birds, plants and animals. He talked of the Golden Plover and the remnants of prairie up at a nearby cemetary. The he told me some other cemetary stories...

"South of Earlville on the Harding Blacktop past Precinct Cemetary was another cemetary. There is nothing there now. The guy that used to own it took all the tombstones home and made a sidewalk from it. They feed cattle on top of those people now."

"2 1/2 miles further south on Harding Blacktop, there was another cemetary there right behind an old school house. The school house is gone, of course, and so's the cemetary.

Anyway, 25 years ago or better, we were fishing along the creek, and there was a chip pile there. I found one of those tombstones there and I took it home. It's laying right over there. I didn't know what to do with it. So I brought it home and still have it.

Then you knew about the Civil War Vet, didn't you? There was a Civil War Vet buried alongside the road (just north of here) on the east side of the road across from Englehart's home. Englehart's had the vet's old house on their side of the road, but they had to tear it down to build a new one. Several years ago they (the county, I believe) were going to make the road wider...Guess what they did? They probably didn't move him, but they took the tombstone and buried it deeper.

I don't remember what his name was.

Another tombstone of a civil war veteran, this one is in the middle of a field near my brother's house. Along comes the modern farmer and can't farm around it. Did the same thing. Buried it and took the fence away - and back when I knew this stuff I wasn't smart enough to write their names down. They farm right over it now. Happened when I was high school - in the 1940's."

I was looking in the book Floyd loaned me and read the story of Major Dixon (who founded Dixon, IL). He is the grandfather or great-grandfather of my attorney, Henry, before Henry was elected State's Attorney. I read the story with interest. Taken from "The Illinois Farmer Book of Lee County, 1926." Here it is:

"A Dixon Anecdote"
In the years following the Black Hawk War John Dixon was often called Major Dixon and some humour attaches to the manner in which he achieved this distinguished title. He apparently was the man of the hour whenever anything needed to be done. When the army started after Black Hawks' legions John Dixon had the contract to supply the army with fresh beef. Those, bear in mind, were not the days of refrigerator and motor cars and so John Dixon gathered up his head of steers and drove them along the trail, following the army.

In the later period of the war  the army was pursuing hotly after Black Hawk, making forced marches and covering a great many miles every day. During this time Dixon with his head of steers was not able to keep up and somtimes he would come straggling in, driving them along through the woods, reaching camp perhaps at midnight. The first time this occurred the army was in camp in the hostile country and sentries were posted to keep guard. When one sentry heard the crackling and strange sounds of a herd approaching he called out "Halt! Who goes there?" and a click was heard as he cocked his gun for instant alarm. Dixon called out in response, "The Major of the Steer Battalion!"

The sentry called back, "Advance, Major of the Steer Battalion, and enter. Thus John Dixon became Major Dixon, and he was called by that title by his friends for a good many years."

Dave is here and we're starting to work on re-stringing the fishing rods. It's cold outside, and we're too lazy to walk through deep snow to cut in the woods.

It's fun being lazy sometimes. Especially on a snowy, white  day like this!

So, dear Reader, I hope I  don't repeat myself too many more times, but have another nice snowy day...(and Rascal Flatts, again)

"If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile!"