The Big One that Didn't Get Away

The 36 inch, 20 pound trophy trout. (Actually just over 14 inches and we didn't weigh it.)

The exhausted angler can finally enjoy the fruits of his labor.

As you regular readers know, we've been having some trouble catching any of the big trout that I so carefully stocked the pond with this year. Those darn fish have turned their noses up at everything from power bait to worms to the best artificial lures known to man. Even though my older son and his wife did catch a couple of pretty good fish earlier this Summer, the really big one kept getting away. Then my second son, a professional bass fisherman, came to town with the grit, discipline and know-how to catch "Moby Trout" himself. (He's not really a professional bass fisherman and as for grit and discipline that was mostly an inhuman ability to endure swarms of mosquitoes while he fished. Still, he is an avid fisherman and he did bring some real knowledge and determination to catching a big trout.) I'm happy to report that after a mere 48 hours of continuous fishing with no sleep or food, my son caught a really big trout which we happily grilled and ate. As you can see in the photo above, the fisherman ate most of his catch. That seemed only fair. After all, he hadn't eaten for 48 hours.

A Perfect Summer Day at Shelburne Farms

Surveying the immensity of "The Barn".

No, not a manor or a chateau, but the "barn" at Shelburne Farms with Mt. Mansfield, highest peak in the state, in the distance.

Chasin' chickens, a favorite Shelburne activity.

Vermont prides itself on being something of a throwback to the 19th century, a sort of quint rural oasis in a vast desert of malls and sprawl. This image we have of ourselves is true in many ways and our refusal to rush headlong into every new permutation of growth and culture in America is the one thing that has preserved the charming beauty of our state. Of course, as a rural oasis we have our own theme parks. One of the most enjoyable of these is Shelburne Farms, about 10 miles south of Burlington. We took some of the grandkids there today to enjoy the scenery and pet the animals. This is no ordinary farm and one look at the barn will tell you that the whole thing sprang from the imagination of someone with a lot of money to burn. That in fact is the case and I leave each of you to read the history and mission of the place on their web site (www.shelburnefarms.org). But even though Shelburne Farms were clearly a fantastic and impossible manifestation of what agriculture "should" and "could" be, our day there was extremely pleasant. The animals and people were friendly, the skies were blue and we got some good information on raising chickens which is one of our projects for next year.

Why the Green Mountains are so Green

The view from sunny Vermont.

Greening up them Green Mountains with torrents of rain.

In a word....rain. Or perhaps I should say precipitation since 10 feet of snow in the Winter isn't really rain. And as far as precipitation is concerned, we get about the same amount of annual precipitation as Seattle, Washington, a city known for its dreary rainyness. That would be in excess of 35 inches a year. To give you some idea of how much rain that is, just west of Seattle on the Olympic peninsula is the only temperate rain forest in the world. That rain forest gets a little more rain than Seattle and Vermont but not much. But even with our significant average precipitation, these last couple of weeks up here in the North Country have been an exercise in learning to live with "higher than average" precipitation. It has rained, and rained hard, every day for almost two weeks. We've had every kind of rain there is, drizzle, steady, pouring, cloud burst and even rain of biblical proportions. The good news? We haven't had to water the garden for some time now. The bad news? I need to use a boat to walk the dogs.

The Water Lilly Fiasco

The struggling water lillies.

Waiting for his princess (or prince I suppose).

Also looking for that first kiss.

Last year Catherine and I painstakingly planted 8 (very expensive) mail order water lilies at one end of the pond. They did great! They had big leaves and several were starting to flower when something, we suspect Tommy the turtle, ate every last shred of them. Still, three survived and came up this year, and I tried to protect them with a bit of fencing. They seemed to be doing O.K. although there were no flowers. Then we had some hail and really heavy rain. Now most of the leaves have been torn off and the whole project looks pretty forlorn. On the plus side, successful or not, the frogs love the little lily pad corner of the pond. We're wondering what we should do next year about these things. Updates to follow.