Natural Swimming Area (cont'd)

We did not swim before Labor Day.  Perhaps I meant the next Labor Day.  In any event, the work has commenced.  There is a large hole (Olympic-size, Mr. Lochte) and a large liner within it that some skilled craftsperson is seaming, if that is the word, or sealing the seam, if that is the phrase.  In any event, the goal is that the water stay where it is put, except for some splashing and circulation over plant life.  We are making steady progress, subject to delays for two weddings in the barn, which I am told will proceed on separate weekends despite the unscheduled descent of the barn chandelier.  (What, your barn has no chandelier?)  I won't say never a dull moment, but I will point out that our dull moments are enlivened by the croaking of frogs, the chatter of chickadees, and the leaping of the deer through the prairie grass, and soon the splashes of swimmers.

Nature makes nature better!

So it was determined that in the summer in Indiana it is hot, and that water cools a person, and because the pristine waters of Lake Michigan are very close but not on Tryon Farm,  the people of Tryon (some of them) decided to build a natural swimming area so they might cool themselves.  Think not of lanes, lifeguards, and chlorine.  Think instead of a pond, minus creatures, bottom muck and algae, with the water filtered and purified by plants so that nature makes nature better. (Okay there is a pump involved.)  Having trouble visualizing it?  Come visit and plunge in--the construction is in progress and we will swim before Labor Day.

The Road

I understand that the pitch is all about nature--but what about asphalt?  Coming into Tryon Farm you follow a conventional road with a little veer to the left and then a right turn after a straight at which point as you proceed you could go right again to 31 Tryon Farm Lane. Do not go right.  Stay straight.  The road is black and dead flat.  There are no curbs.  The road snakes through the trees.   The trees are fifty feet tall and are inches from the edge of the road which has been laid out to preserve them.  This road is part Hansel and Gretel and part Audi commercial.

Now try it on a moonless night on foot or in the vehicle of your choice.  Put your video games down--the world is a magical place.

Tryon Farm Cures NDD

There was an op-ed piece in the New York Times recently suggesting that many current health problems stem from NDD or Nature Deficit Disorder.  While only half-serious, the author notes the benefits of walking, sunshine, and exposure to dirt as opposed to the sort of thing I am engaged in right now.  Or as a spoof in the New Yorker put it, the outdoors is actually the outdoors not a virtual simulation of the outdoors--it is all real.  Fortunately there is a cure; Tryon Farm cures NDD in minutes.  (4/5/12, Noonans at the farm: 3)

House for Breakfast

What happens at your breakfast table?  A discussion of last night, a plan for the day, a review of the headlines, commiseration about the failures of the local team, the weather--okay we touched on those briefly, but the big topic was "house".  What is the perfect house for the meadow?  Well, we are not sure but our thoughts are a traditional exterior form with a modern interior, two or three bedrooms, some outdoor area and screened porch that connect you from the house to the outdoors, a loft-like kitchen/living/dining area that is all in one space, and bedrooms and bathrooms that are cabin-cozy.  A house that builds on what we love about what is already at the farm,  but is even better.  Look for it this spring, or come tell us about your perfect house.  (Noonans at the farm:  3)

Back to Nature

So the upcoming farm event of note is a 10K or 50K run followed by a pig roast.  This run/roast, like Tryon Farm,  takes us back to nature except this event skips farming and goes back 10,000 years to our glory days on the savanna chasing down animals, lacking speed but winning with large lungs and sweat glands.  Omitted is the bit where the runners finally catch the pig, as there is no pig on the trail, but the symbolism is clear to me. Kudos to my brother Will for  arranging the event, and to the volunteers who have cleared the trail.  Respect to the pig for what he gives us.  (Noonans at the farm:  Sophie, Gabe, Sarah.)

Where is winter?

I am told that Russians suffer from depression during mild winters--like soldiers they are ready for a battle that does not start.  I understand.  Manhattan is mild.  The calendar indicates February, but the temperature could be April.  I want snow, perhaps a foot, and I want it at Tryon, the white blanket around the white barn, and I want to be in it.
  Sorry about the arrow.  A more technologically savvy blogger could photoshop it out.
(Noonans at the farm:  Sophie, Gabe and Sarah, and Sam arrives soon)