The end of summer is always bittersweet for me. I welcome the more moderate temperatures. It can be sort of fun at first to dig out the warmer clothes when the nights and mornings grow cooler. The return of more abundant winds boosts our power production, while late ripening fruits fill our baskets and cellars. Vivid colors start appearing on the prairies and in the woods. But I miss the way summer partially erases the boundary between inside and out, when the nights are full of wild sounds and smells, and days are long and full of potential.

Still, we live in a temperate climate, and most of the grasses, flowers and leaves on the trees aren’t built to persist beyond one warm season. Some start dropping their leaves early. On other plants the foliage starts to look a bit tired and ragged. Bird nests, no longer maintained for eggs and young, fall out of their careful perches as passing storms toss them about. Birds that plan to stick around madly collect ripening seeds and other foods day after day alongside squirrels and other permanent residents. Those that don’t plan to stay start disappearing, chasing the endless summer. Days grow shorter. 

Ted here with the latest from Dancing Rabbit here in Northeast Missouri. With only the slightest of intermissions, we’ve been in a steady drought here the past month and more. Cracks in the soil grow longer and wider, and I wonder how deep they go. Ironweed’s rainwater cistern ran dry for only the second time in memory last week, needing a partial refill from county water. I marvel at the persistence of perennial herbs, shrubs, and trees in the bone-dry soil. How do the raspberries keep producing those sweet berries with so little moisture to sustain them? 

Then I think of the historic drought in the Southwest and other unprecedented heat waves around the world this summer, and the other locales that have instead suffered more and heavier rains than any in living memory, and remember that our trials pale by comparison. Interestingly, our long dry spell has included a few bouts of the coolest August weather I can recall here, so at least we weren’t baking as well as parched the whole time. In general, our summer weather missed a lot of the extremes seen elsewhere, and it seems it’s been several years since I can recall any really severe storms here.

A few weeks ago many of my mushroom logs started fruiting unexpectedly in the midst of several dry weeks, without any obvious trigger beyond a few cool nights (usually a good rain does the trick). Each log takes at least a couple months to recover after fruiting before it is ready to flush again, so when we did get one brief deluge of rain overnight last week, only a handful of logs that hadn’t fruited recently were ready to sprout. Those few served up several more bowls full of shiitakes for the kitchen, though, so I can’t complain. They added to several flushes of wild golden oysters over the summer. Harvesting mushrooms always leaves me feeling rich indeed.


Wild golden oyster flush. Photo by Jen

The whispers of approaching autumn seem to spur us to renewed activity after the soporific moist heat of summer. The new Critter kitchen has risen from the ashes in recent months, recreating some lines reminiscent of the old structure, though on far more substantial posts and beams. I expect it will stand for many long years to come. Meanwhile the Critters have been getting by just fine in their temporary kitchen, turning out fine fair to sustain their steady labors.

Firewood piles steadily appear and then disappear again these days as Rabbits squirrel them away in stacks and wood sheds, building their fuel stores for the colder months to come. Ironweed emerged from last winter with plenty of stock remaining, but it still wants to get under cover before the rains return to make use of the extra curing effect of the dry conditions we’ve been through. 

I have various electrical lines that want to get dug in for finished installations before winter comes, but it would be toil most bitter to get them into the ground before rain softens it again, and meanwhile the paper wasps that seem to love hanging around meters and junction boxes still congregate in many of the places I most need to access for the work. I await better conditions.

Long-time communitarian and solar electrician Jeff Clearwater, who consulted on the original design and installation of our village power grid a decade ago, visited recently and managed an audit of our power infrastructure during his stay. Our cooperative power utility has served the village well enough thus far, but faced a steady dearth of well-trained technicians to manage and expand it as the village has grown. It was sobering to face some of the holes in my understanding of system architecture while looking over his shoulder, despite having built and maintained my own off-grid power system over the past 15+ years. I’m grateful that we’ll have a clear, prioritized list of needed improvements to work with once his report arrives. 

I’ve been grateful for an increase in cheesemaking skill and organization among dairy co-op members over the past couple months. As I mentioned in early summer, Jed had stepped up to share with me in bottom-lining the weekly cheese labor, and has since produced a schedule to help allocate the steady influx of dairy resources and coordinate the labor of multiple co-op members. Dairy work-exchanger Marianthe arrived mid-summer and rapidly achieved fluency in our cheese practice; she has since put her capability to work helping train up new members Squirrel and Leslie in these arcane arts. 

In August the co-op shifted its dairy processing location from Ironweed to the Mercantile’s commercial kitchen, which has given everybody some breathing room and brought more ease to the operation, though we remain grateful to Ironweed for sharing its space for many years. As milk production tapers off with the advancing of the season, I’m reflecting positively on how far we’ve come since the dairy co-op got off the ground in 2014! 

We’ve engaged in extensive efforts over recent weeks to bring populations of invasive lespedeza on our land under control. Various Rabbits have taken turns on the tractor mowing fire breaks around several of our fields, and we’ve now completed a few field burns attempting to halt the persistent plant before it casts its latest batch of seed. Participating in these burns alongside my community mates has been a uniting theme throughout my 20 years at DR, and I enjoyed braving the smoke and heat with them again this past week. I also thought regularly of Rabbits Javi and Kyle, who are in the thick of far bigger firefighting efforts on the West Coast. To all who face fires, voluntarily or not, be safe out there!


Kyle sprays down a flare up under a pile of logs. Photo by Javi

Participants in Dancing Rabbit’s latest natural building workshop of the year started arriving before the weekend. I understand much of the work this round will take place next door at Red Earth Farms, where workshop instructor Mark Mazziotti is expanding a cabin built years ago into a more substantial house. Jack-of-all-trades Daniel is coordinating a roster of Rabbits and neighbors cooking for program participants out of the Mercantile, between stints working on the new sauna he’s been building this summer out by the swimming pond. Our friendly and multi-talented village interns Erika and Josephine helped to welcome and orient participants as they arrived.

All good things come to an end, and as we approach Dancing Rabbit’s annual Land Day again, it is with heavy heart that I’m considering dropping out of the rotation of writers bringing this column to you. I’ve begun spending more time away than at Dancing Rabbit in recent months, so it has grown harder to keep my finger on the pulse of the community in order to share it with others. I can’t recall when exactly I joined the effort, but I know I’ve been at it for at least 15 years. Over that time I’ve received a whole lot of messages from you readers in response, unfailingly full of kindness and comradery in living as sustainably as we can all manage. Thanks so much for the connection and encouragement! And may we all persist in our efforts and keep our spirits up as we face a world fraught with ever more noticeable ecological and social challenges. 

Dancing Rabbit has one remaining visitor session to come in October, and I hear there is a fibers workshop coming up this weekend (read our Facebook post for more info)… Please check out the remainder of this year’s schedule at www.dancingrabbit.org for the latest opportunities, and we hope to see you here soon!