Rants from the Hollow

The valley in front of Heiser Hollow has always been farmed, but in our time, the family across the valley has always planted corn or soybeans. Whatever the relative economic merits of the different crops, from an aesthetic point of view, a scraggly looking field of hairy little soy plants can’t compare with a golden field of ripe golden wheat.

The field, which hasn’t been planted with wheat since the 60s, was harvested over a period of several days, mostly with a late model Deere combine. It trundled up and down the field, raising huge clouds of dust, leaving behind neat rows of golden straw, more than filling up a semi-trailer.

The Moore family has farmed this valley for generations, and they’ve still got some of their original farming equipment. Sporting a new coat of orange paint and Allis-Chalmers decals, this pre-war AC tractor took a nostalgia tour across the wheat field, pulling an equally old, and equally authentic AC combine.

The SW corner of the Hollow has some large sandstone boulders, and a very burled stump that Dad has carved into a monolith to provide some turning blanks for a friend who does artisan woodworking. One boulder has some particularly interesting honeycombed erosion patterns. Lying directly next to another boulder, a sort of small ‘cave’ is formed between the two. A couple years ago, the large tree growing on top of the boulders blew over, creating a 15′ long 2′ diameter oak bridge to another boulder uphill (if I only had a Wood-Mizer).

Exploring that area of the Hollow last week, I thought I heard a funny noise coming from inside the boulder–”clack, clack, clack, clack.” I climbed up on top of the boulder, and realized it was coming from the cave. Climbing back off the boulder, I peered into the cave from the back. Suddenly, this incredibly loud hissing noise came from inside the dark cave. Woah! I couldn’t see a thing. I was pretty sure that bears didn’t hiss, or clack, but I still decided that this wasn’t the right time to figure out what was making the noise.

So a couple days later, I return. Sneaking up on the front of the cave, what should I see, but two big, furry turkey vulture chicks peering around the mouth of the cave. Maybe circumstances exaggerated my perception, but they seemed to be at least 18″ tall. I wasn’t sure if they were turkey chicks or turkey buzzard chicks, but whatever they were, they were the biggest baby birds I’ve ever seen.

I took a couple of shots using the on-camera flash, and then went around the back of the cave to see if I could get a different view. It seemed that mom and dad were not home. There was no clicking, nor any intimidating hissing.

Given that the chicks were almost 2 foot tall, I wasn’t sure what an angry adult of that species would do when cornered. There are many stories of geese actually breaking peoples’ arms (and Elizabeth tracked down several stories of fatalities), and I just didn’t know how aggressive a large carrion eater would be. Certainly they must have some significant wing muscles to soar so elegantly and for so long. As it turns out, I was probably right to avoid a confrontation

According to Turkey Vultures: Facts, Maps, and Statistics, the primary form of turkey vulture defense is to vomit on their assailant. The site further warns that this can sting and stink. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m pleased I didn’t have the opportunity to learn this fact through actual experience.

These two are ugly enough that only a parent could love them.

I managed to squeeze a couple trips to the Hollow around a business trip to Chicago. On the last Saturday in April, I picked up Kirk at school and we spent an afternoon. The following Saturday, the first one in May, Dad and I visited.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been down in the Spring–maybe I had a chance in college, but I don’t think I’ve been there since then.

On the trip with Kirk, the woods were white with trillium. They were already starting to fade the following week. Between the two trips, I saw spring beauties, rue anemone, bluets, violets, dandelions, and some large daffodils that Mom must have planted next to the electric pole.

Animals included a pileated woodpecker, a great blue heron, a deer, bluegill, and one very large, and still not hooked, largemouth bass.

Both were beautiful sunny Spring days with bright blue skies and yellow sun. Before picking up Kirk, I wandered around Doylestown Smithville taking pictures of barns and other country scenes, and then I went to a small Civil War reenactment in Wooster. I’ve started pulling together a gallery of rural scenes from Wayne, Holmes, and Coshocton counties.