Beacon Broadside

Holiday Reading Link Roundup, and a 20% Discount for Beacon Broadside Readers

Several Beacon Press books have made it onto Holiday gift-giving lists. Here's a quick look at a handful of them. You can get 20% off any of these titles, or any other Beacon Press book, at the Beacon Press website by entering the code BROADSIDE at checkout. This discount is good until January 4, 2010.

The Progressive Book Club recommends Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm by Steven I. Apfelbaum on its list of Ten Books to Help You Understand the Climate Crisis.

Telling the story of how a depleted Wisconsin corn farm was transformed into a diverse, self-sustaining ecosystem, the ecologist offers a real-life example of how humans might begin to heal a ravaged planet.

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 The always amazing Kate Clinton (whose hilarious book I Told You So would itself make a great gift), lists Beyond (Straight and Gay) Marriage by Nancy D. Polikoff as one of her favorite books of 2009 in the Progressive magazine. 

[It] was a great read for me-- one of the last unmarried, childless, petless lesbians this side of the Mississippi, who is constantly asked, “Sowhenyagettinmarried?” Polikoff writes a helpful critique of the same-sex marriage movement. After a nifty summary of legal history in marriage and social movements, she argues for greater forms of family diversity and presents concrete proposals to shift legal priorities to individuals, whether in or out of relationships.

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Planetizen, a "public-interest information exchange provided by Urban Insight for the urban planning, design, and development community," recommends On Private Property: Finding Common Ground on the Ownership of Land by Eric Freyfogle.

In On Private Property, Freyfogle implores the reader to accept and appreciate the complexity of property rights and put away "the simple story about individual landowners pitted against big government."

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Pegasus Bookstore in Berkeley recommends Love in Condition Yellow by Sophia Raday on its nonfiction list.

In this touching, inspiring memoir of her bi-partisan marriage to a conservative Oakland police officer, Raday, a Berkeley peace activist, shows us how difference can strengthen a marriage, and how mutual respect and open communication are keys to making any relationship thrive. A sweet, engaging story!

Steven I. Apfelbaum: Introducing Winter at Stone Prairie Farm

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm. Read all of Apfelbaum's dispatches from Stone Prairie Farm here. 

It seems but a few evenings ago when the soft calming chirp of crickets gave measure to the warm breeze. That was early September. Now, in late November, only strong, cold winds blow across Stone Prairie Farm. And the crickets are burrowed in for winter and silent.

In the prairie, summer's gently swaying mass of vegetation is now being shaken and snapped back and forth by the wind. That green, growing plant life is replaced by columns of reddish tan prairie grasses that loom skyward ten to fifteen feet. Sounds are like that of a giant threshing machine; the swishing of grass stems beating against others, with each breath of the wind.

Every year around this time, I wonder where summer went. Why is it almost winter again, seemingly so soon? I haven't harvested honey, and the garden beds still need their warming blanket of straw mulch. Remaining crops also need harvest.

Stone Prairie Farm: Fall Beginnings

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm. You can read all of Apfelbaum's dispatches from the farm here.

I only caught a fleeting glimpse of the immense animal, where its head and horns came into view as the grasses parted, and then the mystery pulled back and was gone. I was looking out across the distant, gently swaying mass of prairie grasses, tan and beige and increasingly rosy or chartreuse toward the towering upper seed heads, some plants well over ten feet in height. My eyes were drawn to the movements, and there were many, all occurring simultaneously. And there were sounds… a cacophony of sounds.

On such mornings, as the sun is coming up, igniting the grass with a flaming golden hue, the land appears to be on fire, and the activity of wildlife suggests they are escaping some intense conflagration. But some moved into the intensity, others away. Something, suggesting change, was occurring.

I watched the "v" shape convert to "u", then to a "w" as the flock of Canada geese attempted to move low over the land, to cross the windy landscape. They entered the sun's rays and also ignited, and my first reaction was that I was observing a flock of meteorites plummeting to earth. This changed as they moved in and out of the intense rays, and as the winds forced them through a swirling motion, each goose following closely behind the next over the rolling landforms of Stone Prairie Farm.

Stone Prairie Farm: Swimming the Midsummer Prairie

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm. You can read all of Apfelbaum's dispatches from the farm here.

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I now understand the stories about pioneers having to stand up in their saddles on the backs of their horses to get oriented in a prairie. From my vantage, the vegetation over Stone Prairie Farm looks like a silky-smooth, blowing and swaying mass of varying shades of green, punctuated every here and there with diffused patches of yellow and lavender flowers. Those flowering stalks are tall enough to rise above the sward of moving, blurring grass. Compass plant is one such, which sends its tight clusters of three-inch-wide, sunflower-like flowers up from within the grass sea, into the light and air above.

Yesterday I walked the trail through the prairie here at the farm. A few months ago, in early spring, these same individual grass plants were the height of a mowed lawn, but now many are well over ten feet in height. The mowed trail offered a perspective and route through the wildness. It wasn't long before I wanted to inspect the status of the several Turks cap lilies, which I photographed a few weeks earlier before the grass bolted. I was off the trail, into the soup.

I swam through the prairie, a cross between a breast stroke and freestyle crawl, the most satisfying way to move through the sway and motion of the dense vegetation. When I stopped directing the stems they came crashing in. Blocking the assaults was necessary to see the direction indicated by the sun, and to orient myself so that I could find the lilies.

From Stone Prairie Farm: August 2009

Stone Prairie Farm: Thrilling Evening and Foggy Morning

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm.

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Last night seems like a dream now. So where do I start? What do I remember?

This morning, as the sun slowly rose, the engulfing fog began to glow and my eyes opened to a dripping landscape, where coalescing dew slowly formed into earth-bound droplets from every plant leaf and flower around my head. The fog-muffled calls of birds were accompanied by the sound of these drips careening from upper leaves on the grape vines as I watched from my bed on our screen porch. On such mornings, my mind and the land are awash in this fog.

About the time I was preparing to go to bed last night, our dog, Willow, started pacing in circles from room to room. He sensed the low grumble of a distant thunderstorm well before I did and probably couldn’t decide which bed to hide under. Driven by his need to be with his pack-- me in this case-- he followed me out to the screen porch where I would do some reading and then, hopefully, simply fall asleep. I placed his white fabric “fuzzy bed” next to mine and settled in to read about managing our apple orchard. His unsettled behavior amplified as the storm flashed its way closer and finally arrived at Stone Prairie Farm. After a single attempt to push under my blankets, the flashes and cracks of lightning sent him into the house to hide under a real bed. I turned off my reading light and lay back to experience the show.

Stone Prairie Farm: The Sights and Sounds of Late Springtime

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm.

Dreaming about Stone Prairie Farm. 7:30 am, Saturday, May 31, 2009

This week I've been in Gainesville Florida on a project and right now, this beautiful Saturday morning, I'm waylaid in the Atlanta airport hoping to get back sometime today to Milwaukee, and then drive the several hours back west to Stone Prairie Farm. Gainesville's live oaks and pendent, draping Spanish moss, a relative of pineapple (not a moss at all), and the old stalwart loblolly pines create such a different ambience than the open prairies at Stone Prairie farm. When we drove by fields, even plowed up farm fields, my eyes and spirits perked.

These views over the landscape were more familiar, more like home, and I dreamed about the farm. While I've only been gone a few days, I'm missing those rare idyllic spring days and evenings, where the wafting fragrances of blooming phlox fill the air and remind me of how comfortable it is before summer's heat and humidity sets in.

Thinking and writing is being disrupted: "Any standby passengers needing a seat assignment and a boarding pass please come to the gate D5 immediately for flight 435 to Milwaukee." Computer and brain shutdown and I race to the gate, to home, to Stone Prairie Farm.

Stone Prairie Farm: Green, the Truly Happy Color

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm.

Prescribed burned lands at Stone Prairie Farm were under a state of prolonged blackness, not just at night, but also during the day. After the burning in March, cold weather has encouraged little growth of even the cool season plants that usually grow quickly from the blackened landscape. This year, rather than the normal annual landscape metamorphosis from black to lime green and then darker green as plant leaves and stems mature, the black faded to gray and green just didn't budge from the earth.

That is, at least, until this week, particularly today; after several days of warm drizzle, living plants have returned. They have jumped skyward, in a few short days, to make up for the several weeks of suspense. And with this green comes other life.

The Turning To Warmth on Stone Prairie Farm

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm.

I noticed the difference in the first rays of the rising sun that 5th February: a definite brighter yellow morning glow, the appearance of warmth even though it was only seven degrees Fahrenheit, and something else that spoke of a turning point. I wasn't the only creature at Stone Prairie Farm cognitive to this event. The chickadees, at the bird feeder for the first time since late fall, were calling. They spurted parts of their normal songs, seeming like first-time vocalists practicing a few lines over and over.

The sunlight soaked the land, once released by the horizon to our side of the earth. Then I knew, before listening to any weather reporting on the radio, today was going to be different. Today the snow drifts would shudder and slump, water would ooze from beneath their slumping forms like the melting of butter, and the land’s whiteness of several months would flow from the land to the streams, to the ground to replenish water supplies, and evaporate back to the atmosphere. The passing thought--expect foggy mornings--was interrupted by a proclamation for the fish in Spring creek: expect a surge of cold clear water. Incoming!

Then I became preoccupied with the morning rush to chores, off to my office and work. During the perfunctory morning dog walk, Willow ran between the shadows and the glowing light as he crisscrossed behind prairie grass clumps and shrubs, looking for the perfect spots and sniffing the scents of the nightly wildlife movements. The rabbits in particular. For a gray haired muzzled dog, there was a little more spring in his step. He too appeared to notice or feel something in the cold morning air.

Stone Prairie Farm is in Deep Freeze Mode

Today's post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature's Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm.

This morning at first light, our dog Willow walked out the front door nonchalantly, as though he expected warm spring weather outside. Not so on a mid-January day in Wisconsin. Before the front half of his lanky body was out, his back half was already trying to scramble back into the warmth of the farm house.

Arctic birds have moved in, pushed ahead by the Alberta clipper’s very strong cold front to become our winter birds in southern Wisconsin. Snow buntings and tree sparrows, have replaced the ever present cardinals, blue jays, song sparrows and other common freeloaders at the bird feeder. Some are foraging vigorously, landing on stalks and attempting to shake out the few remaining plant seeds from the prairies plant stems.

It’s very cold today, and is supposed to continue for the entire week. It’s during these cold winter days when the howl of the wind and swirl of snow covers over the life and vibrancy of the dormant insects and plant life below. It’s also really snowy—nearly 40 inches now cover the ground, and another four inches are coming in tonight.