Calling Cards and Moonshine Whiskey

John, Yan, Natasha, Tom and little Lucy went for a hike in our backfields. This is an area ripe for exploration at any time of year. Right now, there are blueberries, blackberries and as Yan said, "what is left of strawberries" up there. Berrying can be a challenge, because there is also a LOT of wildlife in these open fields. There is also wild sage and a plethora of wildflowers and native grasses toughing it out on this dry, sandy bit of soil. They do very well -- better I'm sure than the crops the pioneers tried to grow up there. It is home to our hiking and cross country ski trails, to the cross country training course for the horses, and to our guests for exploration.

There is an old stone wall tracing its way across the field, silent witness to the fact that this field was once home to Hyram Wilder, the first white settler on this land and a great character. A bit of his old stable still remains, and the dug-out root cellar of his house basement can be found. There's (sadly) no trace of his moonshine still. Legend tells that when the "Revenuers" came looking, Hyram weighted the still on the end of an old rope and tossed it in the spruce bog Which, unfortunately, is almost bottomless, and when the rope broke, the still -- well, it's still down there...

Hy, a confirmed bachelor, enjoyed visits from the summer tourists, and was into horses and corn whiskey -- we think he'd be happy that our horses train over the 50 cross country jumps scattered in these fields.

Hy was a character. One of our father Paul's favourite stories was of the time he was visiting Hyram as a young lad. The flies were understandably pretty fierce up there, away from the lake and close to prime breeding grounds in the swamp. They were driving young Paul to distraction.

Hyram had the answer. On a sunny window sill in his 20 X 10' house, he had a big glass pickle jar. In it was what remained of a freshwater codling he had caught off the Bondi dock last winter, in water. Nicely aged.

A dab of this, he recommended to Paul, "the flies will leave you right alone."

Paul took a sniff. "I should think," he gasped, "pretty much everything would leave you alone!"

"Well, boy," replied Hyram calmly, "you dinna use it around the ladies."

Hyram's history is part of the colour and diversity of these fields, and we treasure that. For a great many years, we had a biology professor who came every spring to ask if he might spend time prowling about in the field and the adjacent spruce bog. "It's the most diverse field I can find," he told us. That's because it is a happy confluence of habitats. To the North there is a Black Spruce Bog. To the east, a high rocky hardwood hill, to the west, the road, leading to a sugarbush, and to the south, the field immediately adjacent to Bondi, where our Solar Panels and Frisbee Golf course are, next to another high hill and huge stand of Red Pines.

In a place that is increasingly returning to forest, meadows like this are considered critical habitat. This one is managed under an agreement with the MNR, to keep it a meadow. In England, the mighty National Trust spends a lot of energy locating and 'locking down' what are called Hay Commons just so they will be available as alternate habitats.

It's not uncommon to wander up there of an evening and see up to a dozen deer scattered about. When I was mowing it last autumn (we cannot mow until the myriad butterflies and birds are done with their season) I was visited by a gorgeous wolf, sitting at the edge of the bush leading into the bog, tapping his toes with impatience while he waited for me to get out of town so he could come mousing. We get hawks, bluebirds, swallows, woodpeckers, owls, rabbits and foxes -- to name a few -- mingling with the deer and the wolf pack. Right now, the milkweed are heavy with monarch butterflies -- for which we are very thankful, since last year was not a great year for these fluttering flowers.

And we get wild turkeys. Our guests found some of their calling cards -- huge feathers festooning the grass. These are relative newcomers to Muskoka. Reintroduced into southern Ontario, the milder winters have allowed these remarkable birds to work their way north, and they are now a common sight. They enjoy the wild hops that grown on the hophorn (also called Ironwood) trees along one edge of a pocket of trees in the middle of the property. We think Hyram would approve of their arrival...

(special thanks to Deb Bradley for her striking image of a breeding turkey tom in full colour!)