This first bit of text and the picture are actually from the last evening in July, but I wanted to begin this month with a pretty picture, so here it is.

While I was slaving away up at the office, Pam and Amber were witness to a spectacular sunset and moonrise. The clouds that had gathered turned pink and gold and all sorts of neat colors, all set against a backdrop of blue. The 3/4 moon was already up, and set everything off with its white glow in the evening sky.

The Eastern sky w/moon at sunset (photo by Pam)

After dark the three of us made a big splash in the hot tub. The moonlight was wonderful, and lit up the wilderness nicely. We could see a few stars and Mars too, plus a number of jet liners passing way up high. We sat back and guessed at where each jet was headed tonight, and why some stars twinkle while others don't. The summer bugs were going full blast, and a number of bats worked the air above the deck and meadow, often coming to within a foot of us.

8/1/01 I was up at 4:30am and back out in the hot tub with my mocha. The sky overhead was very hazy, and while there were hundreds of stars still out, they were all muted. The moon had already set, or at least was out of sight behind the trees to the west. A pair of barred owls struck up a conversation - one over on Beagle Point and the other around the corner and down in the main Buffalo Valley somewhere. They were probably talking about how nice it was out this morning, and how hot and muggy it would be by noon!

I hiked on up to the office in the dim pre-dawn light. There were no shadows of any kind, and I strained to see if there were any rattle snakes in my way. By the time I had returned to the cabin at 7, another half chapter in the book was roughed in, and my two lovely ladies were up and getting ready to head into town for the day.

The next couple of hours found me at the cabin computer digging through the hundreds of e-mails that I received about Haley back in May. I was looking for one in particular - a long personal account written by one of the searchers. I finally found it, and will make sure it gets into the book. It is one of the most moving stories that I have ever read.

Right now there is a giant hawk soaring at eye level just outside. This guy has been hanging around for several days now. He is much larger than a red tailed hawk, and is rather vocal - lots of screaming going on out there. For lack of anything else to call him, I'll just say that he is a common chicken hawk. I saw one like him out here several years ago carrying a snake. He had brought it down low near the cabin - I think just to show me what he had caught.

There is a breeze blowing, but it is a warm one, and the air is hazy once again. When I got back to the cabin a couple of hours ago the mushroom city at the fort was up and going strong. I just went back out a few minutes ago to take that picture that I promised you, and found every single mushroom head already drooped over. Guess I'll have to shoot that picture right at daylight!

Later in the day as I was trying to write the chapter about Haley's exact route that she hiked, I kept running into question marks in my head. The only solution was to go back and hike it again, which is what I decided to do.

The temp was about at its peak here for the summer - 90 degrees - and the air was still and muggy - not exactly great conditions for a hike. But what the heck, I suited up anyway and stuck out towards Dug Hollow.

I dropped on down the hill through "The Gap" and Magnolia Canyon, stopped for a moment to turn on the GPS unit, then began a slow descent into the thickest jungle I had ever seen. I swear there were a couple of grape vines that literally reached out, grabbed my legs, and sent me tumbling to the ground. Hey, I LIKE grapevines, so why would they do this to me? Man, it was THICK in there! Vines and ferns and poison ivy and stinging nettle (which went right through my thin long pants).

Just about the time I had progressed nearly half way down the hillside, I realized that the GPS was not keeping an accurate record of the distance I had traveled. After a few choice words and a bit of banging on a nearby tree, I got it working again, but I had to CLIMB back up through the jungle to the bluffline and start all over again. It repeated this once more, but on my third attempt, everything worked just fine.

The creekbed below was completely dry, at least until I got down closer to the Buffalo. And when I stepped out into the open area at the river, the bright sky made me remember that I had pretty much not seen the sky in nearly an hour.

The river was still running a bit at this point, so I carefully hopped across the mixture of limestone and sandstone rocks until I had reached the other side. Then I began to make my way down the river bank, trying to follow the exact route that I knew Haley had taken (we found those footprints here on May 3rd).

One of the big questions for me had been why in the world she wandered out of her way on over to the nearby bluff to look for a cave - did she really know enough to think that there might be a bluff over there, and if so that there might be caves in it? Hardly - most adults would not know to do that. But as I followed her trail, suddenly and quite without warning the answer jumped right up and bit me - it all made perfect sense.

You see, the river bank veered on over very close to the edge of the hillside - she no doubt followed the edge of dry land instead of getting out into the river. And eventually she was standing within a few feet of the downstream end of the bluff, and could have easily looked back and seen one or two of the six or seven caves in this immediate area. She talked about seeing more than one cave and picking the one that had a smooth floor and no rocks - I just happen to know which one that is!

As I continued downstream I was forced up onto a steep bank just beyond Pine Hollow. She said that she had fallen in the river several times trying to scramble up a steep bank - hum, I do believe that fits into place as well.

And then she followed an old roadbed for a little while, until it came back to the river at a point where the river would have been to rough to cross. She instead walked upstream just a few yards to a more favorable crossing spot and made her way across. That crossing no doubt took a lot out of her, and so she laid down to rest on the far side. That is exactly where Lytle and William Jeff found her!  Yep, it all makes perfect sense to me.

OK, I had the final bit of research inside my brain, so I turned around and headed back up towards the cabin. Along the way I found several sassafras leaves that had turned a brilliant red color and were laying on the forest floor. Come on guys, fall is still a couple months away!

Sassafras leaf in the sand along the Buffalo

The cabin is located near the top of the ridge, and the only way I was going to get there was to climb up a very steep hillside. I was soaked and tired but my legs worked OK this time and before long I was huffing and puffing but walking on the level back to the cabin. Even though I have made many hikes in the worst heat of a summer day here, I have never completed one thinking that I should not have been out there - it always feels great to make it to the cabin though, and to shed myself of all that sticky and stinky clothing.

8/2/01 Another hot and muggy and sticky day here in the Ozarks. I wrote some, then came down to the cabin to play with my daughter. Then wrote a bit more, and boxed up several book orders (with the help of my new "staff" Pam and Amber), and returned to the cabin for lunch and a nap. Back up to the office for more work. I have been spending a lot of time these days talking to people trying to get them to write personal stories for the Haley book. Colleen Nick of the Morgan Nick Foundation is going to contribute, as is Haley's kindergarten teacher. And I got a great bit of commentary from one of the main search and rescue folks Christy Comstock. Still lots more folks to interview, and a TON more writing that I have to do.

By the way I have decided to contribute a portion of the proceeds from this book to the Morgan Nick Foundation (if I ever get it finished, and do sell any). It is a terrific organization that does a great deal of good for our kids.

By late afternoon (and two ice cream breaks) it was time for a bit of exercise, so I strapped on the fanny pack and headed down to the river. This time it was just for fun, and to work up a sweat.

The sun had pretty much already set on my little skinny dipping pool, but the water was still warm from the heat of the day and it felt just terrific. I could see a long ways under water, and found three fish nests up at the head of the pool. One of them was being manned by that old perch with the bright white fringes all around her.

As I made my way underwater through the deep pool towards the opposite end, I came upon a new critter and friend - Tommy Turtle. This guy came swimming right on up to me (I was down about five feet under, swimming along the edge of some submerged boulders). He was not a snapping turtle, in fact resembled more of a box turtle with a longer shell. He was not afraid of me, nor tried to run me off. He was the first turtle that I recalled seeing here.

We exchanged glances for a moment or two, then he swam even deeper and hid under the edge of one of those large boulders. In the meantime, Midnight appeared - swam right on up to within a few inches of my face mask. It is amazing how these fish simply are not afraid of me, and actually seem to want to say hi and have a conversation. I guess he was trying to tell me all about Tommy Turtle, although I did not understand a word he said.

And then Spot swam up. Goodness, I guess everyone in the pool knew that I was there! It was good to see all of them again - it had been too long.

I dove on down to the very bottom of the pool and stuck my head under the boulder to see what Tommy was up to. He was pretty much just sitting there, wedged between the smooth floor of the pool and the bottom of the boulder. Turns out that he could hold his breath much longer than I could.

I surfaced and swam on down to the far end of the pool, where I began to find the floor covered with this soft, and bright green algae stuff. I'm sure you have seen it - feels very soft and looks sort of like green smoke or something. Anyway, it had covered the floor several inched deep, but it looked really neat because there were numerous smooth stones that stuck up out of it into the clear water.

And way at the far end I found three fish nests. One of them was the same one I had found here several weeks ago, but there were two new ones, and all of them were active - you could tell that because the stones were all clean and smooth with no algae. Each was perhaps two feet in diameter.

As I looked closer I saw a swarm of tiny fish around one of the nests - I'm talking maybe a quarter inch long fish - hundreds of them! These obviously were the fish that had just hatched from the eggs of this nest. And then I realized that there weren't any adult fish around this nest - either defending it or trying to rob the eggs. So there it was - an entire new generation of fish, right before my very eyes.

The other two nests were very active, and one of them in particular had drawn quite a crowd. Mostly just bluegill though - I did not see any bass, nor did Midnight or Spot accompany me here.

After I watched the show for a few minutes I turned around and headed back towards the upper end of the pool. I soon became aware that Spot was swimming right alongside me - and he followed me all the way to the far end. I need to get a tag made up with my phone number on it in case Spot runs off and someone finds him.

I took a closer look at one of the nests at the upper end again, the one with the big momma perch with the halo around her. I decided to see what she would do if I stuck my big foot into her nest, so I did. She held her ground pretty good, but at the last minute she backed off and darted away. She made a big circle around me, then charged right on in again once I moved my foot back, immediately having to chase off a couple of other perch. Good momma.

And right next door  two or three colorful bass were attacking another nest - standing right up on end with their noses down in the gravel, sucking up perch eggs I guess.

I got out of the water and wandered upstream to check on the bear poop boulders. No new poops to report. And in fact, most of the old stuff had been washed away by recent rains. Come to think of it, I have not seen ANY fresh bear sign in a while. I guess all of them have taken cover from this heat and are waiting it out inside a cave somewhere. Probably watching the Discovery Channel to see what the Polar bears are up to.

On my way back to the big pool I stopped off at the place where Whitaker Creek runs into the main Buffalo River. There is a nice pool there, only about two feet deep, but 20 or 30 feet across. This water is always much cooler than that of the Buffalo since it is mostly spring fed.

When I stuck my head under the water I was stunned! First off, the water was perfectly crystal CLEAR! I mean like there was nothing but air. Reminded me of the difference between looking through a Nikon camera and a Leica/Contax/Hassleblad camera (the Nikon is good, but nothing compared to the clarity and crispness of that German glass in the Leica/Contax/Hassleblad lenses - the images they produce are noticabily better than all the rest).

And to top it off the little pool was filled with little fish everywhere. It was as good as any aquarium. Walking right on past or through this pool you would never see these fish. But just put yourself a foot underwater and an entire new world appears.

Later in the evening after supper, I was typing away at the computer in the cabin when Amber came running in - "Mom has another rattlesnake and she can't kill it!" Good grief, where are all these snakes coming from?

Sure enough, right on down the trail below the cabin Pam had a large timber rattler cornered - it was at the edge of the trail and under a rock. Neither Pam nor Amber were all that upset about it, but I got a bit excited when I tried to relocate the little devil!  I've been through some of the most rugged and jungle terrain in the past two days and not a single snake of any kind. And here my ladies find one right next to the cabin.

One curious thing about this snake - he/she was just over 2 1/2 feet long and pretty thick, yet only had ONE rattle.

My little girl today - before the snake encounter

The girls were on their way down into the meadow, where they eventually found an explosion of wildflowers going on. As I was "relocating" Mr. snake I looked on over and saw them hiking through the meadow, singing and having a big time, not the least bit worried about the rattlesnake. I think they are getting the hang of this place.

I just stepped outside for a few moments to water the flowers and found it to be rather cool this evening. The nearly-full moon has already risen high up into the sky, lighting up the wilderness, and the summer bugs are singing loudly and having a big time.

A small patch of the mushrooms that cover the mulch at Amber's Fort

8/8/01 Sorry for the break in my writings here. It has been a combination of me being busy or away from Cloudland, not much wilderness activities going on, and  a short illness. I know that some of you have had problems with the web page as well - those have been fixed I hope. FYI, the main problem was that an automatic link from two of my three web sites to the third site was lost by the server somehow, and so you were directed to and outdated Cloudland Journal home page. Just for future reference - and it would be a good idea to update your bookmark or favorites list - you should be accessing this via the http://www.cloudland.net/home.html site - this is the main Cloudland Journal home site. The main site for my business in general is http://www.cloudland.net - and there is a link from that site to the journal site. I also have a TimErnst.com site and a wilderness.Arkansasusa.com site. It is all a bit confusing, but the automatic link that was lost was supposed to make it all invisible. Sometimes we get so used to all of this computer stuff that any little glitch drives us crazy. If you ever have trouble finding a link to any particular month, you can always simply type in the direct address - http://www.cloudland.net/cloudlandAug01.html (or whatever three letter abbreviation and year you need).

A couple of themes that have been going on here the past few days have been the incredible display of wildflowers down in Fox meadow - and the flock of beautiful butterflies that they have attracted, and the Haley Cam. I'll explain that second one in a minute.

The wildflowers down in the meadow below the cabin have simply been going nuts. We normally have an explosion of wild sunflowers anyway, but this year the other ones that Pam, Amber and I planted have been coming on strong too. And those blooms are so large and brilliant colored that you can sit up on the deck and see them easily.

There has been a new crop of yellow tiger swallowtail butterflies lately. They are probably 50% larger than the first crop a couple of months ago - these things are as large as an adults hand. And they float from flower to flower so easily.

Plus there have been bright yellow goldfinches flying all over the place down low, along with a few indigo buntings too. Lots and LOTS of color!

It is one thing to sit up on the deck and admire the view of all the color below, but quite another to go wander down through it all. We have had 40 or 50 butterflies in the air and on the flowers all around us at one time. The tigers and the spicebush swallowtails don't seem to mind too much our being there. It is quite magical spending time down in Fox meadow. And so far, no more snakes!

Spicebush swallowtail

a GIANT yellow tiger swallowtail

NBC sent me a small digital video camera last week, dubbed the Haley Cam. They got rained out the last day of their DATELINE shoot and did not get a few shots that they really wanted for the show. So I agreed to go out and shoot some digital tape for them. I have made several trips down to Hawksbill Crag and along the bluffline trail over to Haley Falls since then (the waterfall is completely dry now), and have gotten to know that stretch of trail even better than in the past. It has been fun shooting the video, although I did nearly fall off of the bluff a time or two trying to get a good vantage point.

My job with the camera has simply been to walk around and have the camera's view be that of a hiker's - actually Haley's view (so I have been holding the camera down low). This is the first time that I have shot any video in nearly 25 years, when I filmed a movie about the Hurricane Creek Wilderness Area (it had not been declared an official wilderness area at the time). That 15 minute video (that took me a month to film and edit!) was shown on local access TV in Fayetteville literally hundreds of times (since it was short, it made a great filler!).

Anyway, I will be getting a good digital video camera of my own in the near future, and will be shooting and putting together a series of scenic Arkansas videos to sell (and DVD's too). They will be sort of like my slide programs - beautiful scenery put to music.  Only I will be able to photograph the MOVEMENT in nature unlike I have been able to do with the still camera all of these years.

They won't use much of the Haley Cam video on the air that I have been shooting - perhaps only a few seconds - but it has been fun even thinking that something I have shot will air on national TV.

There was a bit of excitement one morning out on the trail. While I was shooting a neat scene with the video camera held in my hands, slowly panning through a forest filled with sunbeams in the haze, a bee stung me right on the ankle - the camera kept right on recording as I attempted to take care of the situation. And then a little while later, while going through thick brush with the camera turned on, I got stung by another bee, this time on my arm. The video of that attack ended with a very nice scene looking up through the trees at a sunburst. When you watch the video of these two events it is obvious that something has happened to the photographer, as the camera swings wildly back and forth and thrashes around. Plus, there is a bit of audio, which is not fit to print here. The bee sting on my ankle swelled up pretty good. The one on my arm didn't swell up, but it felt like someone had stuck a needle far down into the biceps muscle. Now several days later, that spot is still rather sore.

Hawksbill Crag in the early morning hazy of summer

I have also been spending a great deal of time working on the Haley book - I suspect that many of you are getting tired of hearing about it all, but that is the way it is with me - I jump head first into a big project like this one and pretty much eat, breathe and sleep it until I am done. I overheard Pam tell someone the other day "Do you have any idea how FOCUSED Tim gets when he is working on a project?" Boy, no kidding - I can't hardly do anything else until I get the job finished. I have often been up at the office at 4 or 5am typing away.

Part of my recent work with the book has been gathering up first person accounts of the ordeal, and then trying to make them fit into the book somehow. I have received some very nice commentary that I hope will make for interesting reading later this year.

One bit of information that I received recently has had a major impact on the entire story. It turns out that Haley did not really stomp off in a huff or run away and hide or try to get away from the group of adults that she was hiking with, ignoring their calls out to her. It turns out that Haley did the very same thing that most hikers do at some point in their lives - some of us even dozens of times a year. Haley simply took a wrong turn at a fork in the trail. That was it, pure and simple. This will all be spelled out in my book, including a very detailed account of those critical minutes just before and after Haley disappeared - from the eyewitness who was the last to see her and the first to look for her.

And speaking of little girls, I must tell you about my own. She is certainly God's gift to the world (I know all parents say this about their own children, but since I am new at this, cut me some slack!). Yesterday, quite literally out of the blue, Amber picked up a rag and went around dusting all of the tables in the cabin. And then she got out the vacuum cleaner and proceeded to vacuum most of the cabin. Good grief - she is only eight years old!

And the other morning, while I was cooking breakfast, the song "Dance" by Lee Ann Womack came on the radio. This song has a very special meaning to me for many reasons, but especially because I feel a great connection with this little wonder that I have the great joy of being able to raise. There are many things in this song that are so profound, and that I want Amber to grow up knowing.

Anyway, when the song began to play, Amber came running into the kitchen, threw her arms around me, and began to sing the words to ME with a great deal of feeling. I was down on my knees at her level, and just about lost it.

Another wonderful moment with one of my girls happened the other night during the full moon. When the moon is high in the sky it lights up Pam's side of the bed (mine gets lit up by the sunrise). I never sleep too well and am quite often up at all hours. This night I was covering a lot more ground than usual tossing and turning with thoughts of the Haley book in my head, wondering if I was ever going to get it right, and I simply could not get to sleep. Then I looked over at my wife, who was glowing in the moonlight. What an incredible sight! She means more to me than all the moonlight that has ever shown, of course, and the sight of seeing her right there next to me just melted my insides. I laid down next to her and went fast asleep.

And speaking of melting insides, mine got turned inside out a couple of nights ago. I was up at 2am feeling pretty bad. Not wanting to keep Pam awake I wandered outside into the moonlight, which was lighting up the forest with a soft glow. I would spend the next several hours out in that moonlight, sick as a dog, down on my hands and knees in the weeds. My faithful dog Aspen was always with me, but he made sure to stay out of the way of flying debris.

By daylight I felt a little better and returned to the cabin. Pam fixed me a bit of tea, which really perked me up. We had returned from a quick trip to Missouri the night before with three kids instead of one (Amber's cousins Blake and Tyler), and all of them were busy out at the fort playing, soon to be joined by grandma, which came down to take them back home.

A friend and famous architect Thomas Butt and his wife Shirley from San Francisco stopped by for a visit. I was sort of OK when they first got here. But with each minute that passed my head pounded more and the severe pain in my gut grew larger. The blood quite literally drained from my face and Pam said that I was white as a ghost. By the time our guests left I was so weak that I could hardly stand up, and was barely able to crawl up the staircase to bed, where I remained for the rest of the day.

I am better today, although still pretty weak and not looking forward to eating anything. Yikes, and the worst part of today is that I have to go into TOWN! I think that is what got me down in the first place, having to spend time in civilization. It seems the more I am out here, the less I want to be anyplace else.

This morning the sky is clear but there are a few clouds and a bit of haze down in the valley. The moon is straight up and looking good in its 3/4 phase. There are several goldfinchs just outside the window, and a small hawk came cruising by a few minutes ago. This is the time of year when hawks of all types pass through. The usual residents are red-tailed hawks, but summertime brings out the big ones and the little ones.

Oops, I hear Lee Ann on the radio again, I had better go find my child...

It had been another uncomfortable night for me and I didn't sleep much, but this time the problem was not internal. I didn't realize until later this morning exactly what the problem was. And I was REALLY glad to have my dear wife here to help.

Turns out that during my moonlight crawl through the weeds I picked up a batch of seed ticks - you know, those TINY ticks that are nothing more than dots on your skin. They are nearly impossible to grab a hold of to pull out, and they itch like the dickens. I don't know of any method to get rid of them, other than simply scratching/digging with your fingernail. Although Tom and Shirley that were here yesterday had said they were told that duct tape works pretty well (although it pretty much takes all of the hair off with it!). Well, the seed ticks that latched onto me gathered in the worst place imaginable for a guy - and let me tell ya, duct tape was NOT AN OPTION!

Since this area of the anatomy was one that I really couldn't see too well myself, my poor wife was called upon to not only do the inspection and locate the microscopic critters that were driving me nuts (oops, bad choice of words), but she had to scratch/dig/grab them and get rid of them too. Do you remember the "Honey Do" list that my bride gave me on our wedding night? Well, guess what baby, this chore was #1 on MY honey do list today! Come to think of it, I guess she had a bit of fun with this job (oops, did I say JOB?). "...What did you do today Pam? Picked WHAT from WHERE?..." I believe the count was 40 or 50 ticks removed. I do have a wonderful wife.

It is late at night now and the ladies have retired for the day. My dogs and I are tucked into the corner of the cabin office area enjoying the quiet. Although, come to think of it, there is a great deal of noise tonight. Even though the walls of this cabin are so thick that you can hardly hear a 50mph storm raging, right now I can hear a symphony of summer bugs loud and clear. Goodness, there seems to be thousands of them here tonight! Yet, the air is silent in another way - there is not a single lightening bug out - none. I have not noticed this in the last week, so I don't know if they left gradually or simply are all taking the night off. The moon is not up yet, and when you walk outside it is really DARK out with no lightening bugs out to show the way.

Aspen and Lucy in their cabin office beds (they also have beds up in the loft - not spoiled or anything are they)

My goal is to get through the day tomorrow with no major critter attacks or mishaps to talk about (I forgot to tell you that I speared myself in the knee the other day with a sharp stick while shooting with the Haley Cam). I will be getting back to writing the book, but will try to take a hike during the afternoon and give you some sort of report on what the late summer wilderness is up to these days.

8/9/01 It is four-something in the morning, and I have just returned from a soak in the hot tub in the moonlight with all of the night creatures. I soak in the tub at night to relax and de-brief the events of the day to clear my mind so that I can get to sleep. And in the morning the steaming bubbles tend to wake me up and get the juices flowing, plus I use the quiet time to organize my day (a great place to sip mocha too). But at 4 this morning I wasn't sure what I wanted to do - relax and go back to sleep or get an early start. I guess the empty mocha bottle on the hot tub lid tells ya what I decided.

It was a most relaxing soak though. The moon was bright and straight up, surrounded by a few of the brightest stars, and a band or two of high clouds. I don't know, but moonlight just FEELS terrific hitting your face. You know - it is never HOT like the burning summer sunshine can be. It is always soothing, and somehow tends to bring on a smile, or at least a silly grin, especially when you remember that you are sitting in a hot tub in the middle of the wilderness in the middle of the night.

The sounds of the forest captured my imagination this morning. There was a tree frog or something up close in a nearby tree just going wild - his music was loud and fast-paced - something or someone had this dude really excited. Right behind him was an army of cicadas and crickets, laying down a layer of sound that was even and constant. And further off in the background several barred owls called out to each other "Who cooks for you, who cooks for you'aaaaaallllllllll." All the voices were in perfect harmony.

Then a couple of screech owls cried out and broke up the rhythm. No, I take that back - they just added another dimension to the wilderness symphony, and were as delightful as the rest to listen to.

After a while I got out of the tub and began to dry off, and noticed the breeze picking up. The wind blows out here - it blows A LOT during much of the year. In fact, sometimes it blows non-stop for many days and begins to wear on your nerves - especially when the windows are open and it howls all night, night after night after night. But in the summer it doesn't blow too much, and any little breeze at all is welcome.

As the wind increased I took a seat on one of the tall deck chairs and propped my feet up on the railing. Man, that breeze just felt wonderful - not too hot or cold, just right. The moonlight lit up a lot of the wilderness below, so I sat there studying the ridge lines and valleys and taking it all in for a good long while. I felt a little guilty about just sitting there doing nothing, but then I realized that it was part of my job here - to sit and wonder and enjoy.

And then I heard a crash off in the woods somewhere - just a single crash. It was probably a large dead limb of an oak tree finally letting go and smashing to the ground. And that reminded me of a story that I never wrote down.

It happened several weeks ago, on a quiet night when I was out on the deck like this morning, just sitting there and soaking everything up. I heard a loud crash, only this was not a direct sound, but the echo of one that had happened elsewhere else - sounded like it had come from behind me. It had to have been an entire tree hitting the ground, and probably a very large one - something big enough to have the sound echo throughout the wilderness. And then a bit of terror struck me - or rather sadness, and I hoped, no prayed, that the sound was not that of my old buddy the skewed tree falling over.

For those of you who don't recall, this is the giant red oak tree that is slanted on a 30 degree angle and lives in the middle of the big flat on the point overlooking Dug Hollow. I have always felt some sort of kinship with this tree because I live at a different angle to the rest of the world just like it does. It has long been a landmark for me to wander beneath on my way down into Magnolia Canyon. The tree is massive, and that leaning angle is so great that you think you are looking at a stop-action photo of it on the way to the ground. I guess that is exactly what we are seeing - the old tree IS on the way to the ground, just at a VERY slow pace, taking it years to get there. You just have to stop and stare and wonder how in the world it stays up.

As soon as it got light later that morning I was anxious to hike on over and see if my fears were correct. Within ten minutes of leaving the cabin those fears were confirmed - it was indeed the giant Leaning Red Oak of Dug Hollow that bit the dust. Holey smokes, it must have been one horrific crash! I had noted a couple of months ago that the base of this tree had split recently, and that split is indeed what brought the tree down. The tree was not hollow, but the terrific weight of the huge mass of tree trunk, and all of those branches leaning down towards earth at such a steep angle, that finally got the best of it.

I stepped it off and found the tree to be 76 feet tall and 70 feet in diameter, with a base that took 2 1/2 people's arms to reach around. Gosh, just imagine the weight of all that!

My soul immediately filled with sadness at all of this, but I did not shed a tear. This old friend had lived a long and healthy life, spreading acorns and shade for all who wanted, provided a place for squirrels and birds to live and play on, and was a quiet spot in the deep woods for this wilderness wanderer to head for - it always brought a smile to my face when it came into view. I'm not sure that I am ready to admit to ever actually talking to trees, but I will say that this guy was there for me many times when I was ready to bounce a thought off of someone, or needed a patient ear to bend.

Yes, I will miss that old tree. But it is not really gone. In fact, the next phase of its life has just begun. It will provide homes and nutrients for critters and bugs for a long time to come. I always thought that trees down on the ground here in the Ozarks would rot away quickly - in just a matter of several years. But as I look out my window here at the cabin and see the brush that I cut away four years ago not showing any signs of rot at all, I know now that it takes much longer for trees to become soil. In fact, I will lay odds that this tree will still be around for twenty, thirty, perhaps even forty years more or longer. Yes, I plan to have many more conversations with this old pal as I too age.

Speaking of age, I read in the RURAL ARKANSAS magazine that oak trees here don't even begin to bear acorns until they are at least 50 years old! Can that be true? Wow, if that is the case (and quite frankly, I find that hard to believe), it certainly adds a mountain of evidence to the fact that we really do need to keep old growth forests around in order to sustain the wildlife population that depends so heavily on the mast crop from these oaks for food (not to mention the benefits to us humans of strolling through such masterpieces of nature).

Now don't get me wrong - I DO support the timber industry, and it is one great renewal resources that we have in this country. And if managed properly, timber harvesting can be done with no damage to the forest (using selective cutting methods and NOT the horrible clearcutting that is often advocated by some forest service officials - with one exception - tree farms are usually best managed through clearcutting, and that is fine).

The area surrounding Cloudland has been harvested many times using the selective cutting method, and it is one of the most beautiful wild and natural areas in this part of the country. So I am not against cutting down trees - as long as it is done responsibly, with respect to the land and the critters who live there (including humans).

And speaking of supporting the timber industry - we ALL support the timber industry in one way or another, don't we? Just think about it for a moment. How many times during the day do YOU use an item that came from trees? Toilet paper. Heck, paper of most any sort. Furniture. The HOUSE that you live in. Magazines. Newspapers. Cardboard. Just look around you - products that come from trees are everywhere in our lives. In a perfect world we would be able to recycle enough paper products so that we would not have to cut down any more trees, but that will never happen. So our best way to live is to recycle all that we can, and support the smart and responsible harvesting of our wonderful timber crop. So there - my soap box sermon for the day!

And speaking of the day, good grief, I have sat here at the computer and typed the darkness away - dawn is happening in the east, and I must go out and greet it!

It was late in the afternoon before I was able to get out and go for a hike. Hot, dry, dusty, and I had trouble keeping up with the dogs - they were both blazingly fast! In my weakened state I decided to hike on out to the mailbox instead of heading down to the river. I worked up a good sweat, and was able to make it back to the cabin without passing out.

Not much in the way of wildlife out wandering around in the heat - they were all safely tucked into a tree or cool hole in the ground somewhere. I did see a medium-sized king snake though - first one of those I have seen in a while. I tried to talk him into moving down to the cabin to scare off a few rattlesnakes, but he wasn't interested.

I looked and looked and looked but could only find one tree that had turned fall color - a short black gum. These guys will be the first big trees to change, but August is a bit early for them. Looks like they are going to have some nice reds this year, as they have the past couple.

black gum tree turning a bit early

Most everything else in the forest is still green - that summer green that takes over in June and lasts until the fall color hits.

Lots of berries out - I could have easily filled up my digital camera disk with macro shots of different kinds of berries if I had taken along my tripod (you really need a tripod in order to get sharp pics of macros). One grove of wild plums had branches loaded with fruit - still quite small and a long ways from ripe. I came across some sort of plant that had neat groups of tiny berries - much smaller than peas. I have no idea what this plant was, but the berries looked interesting backlit. And I came across some giant polk plants, nearly eight feet tall! Their long strands of dark purple berries were a foot long.

Wild plums

Elderberries

All in all it was a pretty nice hike, and the dogs got to swim in Bob's pond a couple of times. Plus, I raided the garden on the way back (stuffed myself with fresh sweet corn and taters later).

Speaking of Bob's garden, his electric fence around the garden has worked pretty well - not much deer or bear or other critter destruction this year. However, Benny's garden in between the Faddis cabin and Bob's cabin is a different story.

Benny has been growing a large crop of watermelons and cantaloupes, as well as corn. Every time that he has been out here to check on them he has found very few melons. I believe he thought Amber and I were swiping them (nope!). The other day he was out and realized that it was not us, but rather a bear (or two) - they had  eaten every single one of his crop! They would take a picnic basket out into the woods, find a nice shady spot, then sit down and commence to eatin' watermelon - can you just see that! Benny has been finding the rinds out in the woods, scattered all over the place.

Right now it is just before dark. No, wait - dark isn't for a couple of hours yet. But it IS getting dark outside. Looks like the wind is blowing up a big storm. The temp is still in the mid-80s (it hit 90 degrees today for one of the hottest days of the summer). The weather channel shows that we are supposed to get rain for the next FIVE days! While I hope that will come true, you won't find me holding my breath. The haze that has been with us for a couple of weeks vanished yesterday, and the hills out there are back to being their normal green instead of blue-green. Boy, if we do get that rain, the woods and fields and Fox meadow will REALLY be lush!

8/10/01 At some point during the night I could not sleep and wound up soaking in the hot tub for a while. There were many clouds overhead, but every now and then a hole would open up and a zillion stars shone through. Most of the stars were stationary, but an ever increasing number of them were moving - streaking across the small bit of visible sky, part of the Perseid Meteor Shower no doubt.

Shooting stars have always fascinated me, ever since my very first visit to the "real" woods when I was about five years old. My dad took me and my brother Terry on an overnight camping trip to what was then the big park at Lake Shepherd Springs near Mountainburg [the park since closed down and was replaced by Lake Ft. Smith State Park nearby - sort of ironic now because while the original site of the first campground will be flooded by the new lake soon (has been nothing but weeds and brush for many years), the new state park that will be built to replace the current one that will also be flooded, and this new one will be just a stone's throw from that original site - whew, did you follow all of that?].

Anyway, we didn't have a tent - just an old canvas tarp. When it came time for bed, dad laid that old tarp out right there on the ground out in the open, put us two boys down on it, then folded the tarp up over us for protection, leaving only our heads sticking out. It was in August, and I recall spending what seemed like hours laying there wide awake, awestruck at the incredible display of fireworks going on overhead.

But early this morning there was an added attraction to the shooting stars. It seemed like every time a shooting star would happen, the sky around that hole in the clouds would flash big-time - there must have been a number of thunderstorms going on way up there, and those lightning bolts were synchronized to the shooting stars. It was like the star would blaze across the sky and then out of sight behind the clouds, then hit something and explode, causing a big flash. Kids like me find that sort of thing noteworthy.

The temp at daylight was still very warm, but not a drop of rain. I worked at the office for a while, then watched my ladies drive off to Jasper to run a few errands. One of Pam's interests right now is seeing to it that every kid in the county has a daypack to use to carry their books and supplies to school in - and there are many folks around here who cannot afford such a small luxury. She has hooked up with a local agency in town that helps locate and distribute such things to needy families. I have a soft spot in my heart for bookpacks because I used one while I was in college - no one ever carried them back then, and I got a lot of strange looks from people who were struggling to carry their own books, but it only made sense to me as a place to stash my books while I hiked back and forth to class (a couple miles from my home).

Some of these kids show up at school with practically nothing - they need notebook paper, pencils, scissors, glue, crayons, markers, and bookpacks - they simply cannot afford to buy them. Pam is working on trying to find funding from someplace for supplies to fill those packs with everything needed (there really aren't any big stores in this county like Wal Mart or Target that normally might be able to help out).

Anyway, she has found some good packs at Wal Mart that are not too fancy or expensive, and so she has been buying a couple now and then and getting them to the agency to pass out. And the latest ones that she is taking down there will arrive complete with a copy of a trail guidebook for each child - we are hoping that they will be able to use that pack for double duty and get out and enjoy the wonders of nature - perhaps some of them even discovering it all for the very first time.

Our well out here produces about 60 gallons of water a day, which doesn't quite keep up with our needs. So every now and then we have to make a run on down to the spring in Boxley and haul back a tank of fresh water to put into our holding tank. That tank was getting rather low this week, so I hooked up the trailer and headed on down the hill.

The spring setup in Boxley

On the way back from the spring I stopped and took a good look at those tiny "unidentified" berries that I had posted a photo of here. As is usually the case, I got a bunch of e-mails from you wonderful readers out there to help ID them. Got at least three different possibilities, including devil's walking stick, alternate-leaf dogwood, and elderberries. Right there on page 259 of Don Kurz's "Shrubs and Woody Vines of Missouri" book was a perfect drawing and description of the plant - elderberries.

Here is a note from my friend Jenny, a longtime journal reader who correctly ID'd the berries first: "One late summer morning I woke up early to labor pains with my youngest daughter, then I picked a slew of elderberries to make  a batch of jelly.  Made plum jelly and wild grape jelly too. The elderberry tasted really icky.  You sort of need to acquire a taste for the things, very strange indeed."

One of my Canadian readers added "You should be able to cut a twig and see if it is 'pithy and white inside' which would help identify it as elderberry. Elders make excellent whistles or drinking straws because the stems can be easily hollowed out! Hope you find the time today to cut a stem of that bush and settle the question and let us know. Carve a whistle for Amber while you're at it."

Elderberry fruit is often so heavy that the fruit bends the stalks nearly down to the ground.

Seems to me that I recall some tune about drinking elderberry wine with a fine lady under a shade tree on a hot summer day somewhere.

A few of the flowers blooming up in Aspen's meadow that I found while waiting for the spring water to drain into the holding tank

8/11/01 It was in the wee hours of the morning when we arrived back at the cabin from a long trip into town to help celebrate two dear friend's wedding. It had rained here during the evening, which settled the dust and gave the wilderness a much-needed drink. A few hours later I awoke with a feeling of bright color all around. No, it wasn't the elderberry wine, but rather an incredible light show going on just outside the window.

I jumped up and ran downstairs, grabbing the digital camera as I flew by the computer desk. The rain had soaked the forest, and all that moisture was now producing a lot of clouds and fog down in the valley. And the approaching sun turned everything this brilliant color. The intense color only lasted for a minute or two, just in time for me to take a few snapshots. The clouds hung around a while longer - in fact they settled down into the bottom of the valley for a classic Cloudland scene - but the color vanished.

Now that the clouds have settled in, the line of sight has cleared and I can see a giant pile of thunderheads way down south, glowing pure white in the sunlight. I hope those rascals are a sign of things to come - we sure could use a bit of rain!

You should have seen the air show right out in front of the cabin this afternoon - there were dive bombers everywhere, performing complicated and dangerous maneuvers, and devouring the enemy. Dragonflies. Dozens of them. MANY dozens of them. We three sat there mesmerized for quite a while watching the show. They guys would fly around and chase some sort of flying insect that was filling the air. The bugs were large enough that we could see them in the air, and know when a dragonfly came by and gobbled one up. It was really quite interesting, and fast paced. Our main goal as a spectator was to focus on a single dragonfly, and then try to follow it up and down and left and right, until it honed in on one of the little bugs and ate it. Our eyes had to work overtime.

Later in the afternoon, I came back to the cabin and found Pam and Amber down on the lower deck doing a rain dance. There were dark clouds closing in. Then I heard one of the girls shriek. I went back outside and was quite amazed at the size of the raindrops that were falling. These things were HUGE!!! You could find an individual drop way up high and follow it all the way to the ground - they were more like giant wet snowflakes than rain. There were only a few of the drops coming down though - perhaps five or ten falling in the meadow below at the same time.

And then we heard the hushed roar of rain. It grew louder and louder, and the wind began to blow - pushed ahead by this wall of rain. We could look out into the Whitaker Creek Drainage and see the rain - it was not coming at us, but rather working its way downstream towards the Buffalo River. And sure enough, that is exactly what it did - went right on by and missed us! And then all was silent again - it was a small rain shower. It did leave behind the wonderful scent of rain in the air.

So the ladies went back to dancing, this time at a fever pitch. I went back inside the cabin and sat down at the computer. A few minutes later I heard screaming and laughter - the rain dance had worked this time, and it was coming down pretty good.

Pam and I took up a seat on the swing to watch the rain, but Amber remained down on the lower deck, dancing and having a grand old time. The next thing we knew she had grabbed a rag and was scrubbing the top of the hot tub cover, and it was just pouring down rain. Hey, that was MY job to stand out in the rain and play, so I left Pam behind and joined Amber.

The rain was cold at first, but once I was soaked it was no problem. We worked away for ten minutes at the tub cover, and the heavy rain continued. After a while it got rather chilly, and right next to us was this bubbling pot of hot water, so what the heck. A minute later all three of us were neck deep in the hot tub, getting poured on. It was one of the more magical moments I've had here.

We ended up with over a half inch of rain, which I'm sure the forest was delighted to get!

A little while later I was sitting there on the back deck, looking at all the butterflies and wildflowers down in the meadow, and wishing that I had a video camera to capture it all with. Then I remembered that I still had the Haley Cam here, and a blank tape, so I grabbed the camera and went down to shoot butterflies and wildflowers.

I spent the next hour with camera in hand, following butterflies, dogs and beautiful ladies all over the meadow. Pam and Amber wandered around and picked a nice bouquet of wildflowers for the table, and Aspen, heck I have no idea what Aspen was up to, but he sure did cover ground in a hurry! Sometimes I get tired just watching this dog.

Long after dark, as the cabin was going to sleep, I stepped outside into one more incredible scene. There was a solid bank of clouds down in the valley, yet much of the sky above was clear. And the BLACKEST sky that I had seen in a long while! And you know what that means - STARS, stars so bright and clear that you could reach out and touch them. The Milky Way was simply beaming - it arched all the way from one end of the sky to the other, disappearing into the fog bank to the south. Quite an impressive display - I even got Amber out of bed to come see.

8/12/01 For once I stayed in bed and didn't wander around outside before dawn, and slept in until 6:30. The valley was still filled with clouds when I finally did get up - very soft ones today - and the sky above was overcast, so no sunrise. The river below was sending up a bit of music, so I guess some of the rain from yesterday reached it. While I was in the kitchen fixing breakfast, Pam was at the computer answering an e-mail. The sound of the keyboard reminded me of a crackling fire - guess it won't be long now before we will have one going in the cabin constantly for many months.

We got another good shower in the middle of the day - nearly 3/4's of an inch, and it came down hard and fast. There was an exciting cloud show afterwards, as new ones were born down in the valley, rose up and went flying off in all directions.

Just before sunset, the three of us jumped back into the hot tub for a long soak. The sky was filled with delicate clouds drifting by, and blue sky behind them. As the sun began to set those clouds turned pink, then orange, then RED. It was a dramatic sunset, and we all just sat back in the bubbles and enjoyed the show.

Then a flock of bats came by - four of them flying in formation. I'd never seen bats do this before, but I swear they were all basically making the very same maneuvers. They came in low over the hot tub, veered off to one direction, climbed up and made a big circle over the deck and then the meadow, swooped back down again, then rose up one last time and finally headed off over towards Beagle Point. It was very strange to see bats do something, anything in the sky together - especially four of them at once. They are pretty much loaners when they take to the air, and their jagged flight patters take them all over the map. It was neat to sit and watch them, and the light show up in the clouds just above with all of the pink and blue. And it was especially great to be next to my wonderful ladies, both as pretty as any sunset.

This will be the last post to the journal for a while. I simply have too much to do the rest of this month and won't be able to find the time to write here. It will be sort of like cramming for a final - only this final is a really important one involving many people. I have to get the Haley book in the can, and my deadline is the end of August. I probably won't make that deadline, but I will give it my best shot. There will be many early wake-up calls, long days, and late nights before it is finished. I only hope to be able to find enough time each day for a short hike somewhere to clear my head and rejuvenate my soul. Amber will begin school in a week, and Pam has a hectic schedule of her own all lined up, including taking over many of my own chores while I am working on the book. So this will be the last post for August - I hope that you will check back in early September to see if I survived it all. For those of you junkies who need something to read late at night when you can't sleep, there is more than three years' worth and many thousands of pages of my ramblings to read - good luck, and I'll see ya next month!

E-mail Tim
E-mail Pam or Amber

September 2001 Journal