Our timelapse and landscape talent Eleanor is also a history buff. She made some observations about the stonewalls that we found in South Hope with the last timelapse we shot. Building stonewalls are experiences of Americana, of who we are and where we came from, in the big picture of the stone and wood we’ve literally held in our hands over the years. E.O. Wilson differentiates the living creation from the non-living creation. With this lead, my interests in this filmic inquiry are primarily with the living. But the American divorce from nature runs deeper than that.

FROM ELEANOR: “Rarely in need of replacement, constructing stone walls were massive undertakings. This is one reason why they are so familiar in the earliest settled regions of the country, like South Hope Maine, where the frontier mentality had yet to take hold: unlike their children and grandchildren, these farmers expected to spend their entire lives on a single plot of land. A worker could lay between twenty four and sixty four feet of wall per day, assuming that the stones, or “fieldstones,” as they were called, had already been transported to the building site.

Historian John Stilgoe notes that wooden fences, which became the popular barrier among farmers outside of the northeastern US, were replaced every fifteen to thirty years. When in the early nineteenth century, depleted woodlots triggered a timber shortage, it was the stone wall laying farmers that had enough wood to keep their fires burning. Of course, it was also these northernmost people who, hibernating from frigid temperatures, were most in need of firewood.”

For more information on the life and times of stonewalls, see: Robert Thorson, Stone by Stone: The Magnificent History in New England’s Stone Walls (Walker & Company, 2004).
John R. Stilgoe, Common Landscape of America, 1580-1845 (Yale University Press, 1983).

I watch him sitting at sunset and recall lyrics from a song that asks a question…”If you knew that you would die today, would you change? Would you change?”

My son, on the other hand, awakes the next morning and marvels at the movement of light and small fish within shallow water.

But the note did recall this unusual place and the morning we spent there. We had rented Stonehenge, so that we could record and convey these stones without the crowds… and only with the breaking sun and clouds and the small birds called jackdaws that live within the cracks of the stones. Maybe the young viewer -or his cat- noticed the birds?

Stone is an incredible medium. When I stop making movies, I’d like to carve letters into stone, then narrowcast them into the back woods.

The talk and screening is part of the US Environmental Film Festival, in its 18th year. For those of you who are enthusiasts for films about the people/nature connection, there are 155 diverse films screening between March 16th and 28th. Special programs exist for children and are marked by a family-friendly symbol in the festival program.

Especially for my son Will. He stuck his fingers deep into the soil of the garden and successfully dug out this spectacular parsnip for the Thanksgiving table.

Passed my local dragonfly consultant Bob Grobe on November 23rd in the market parking lot. He reported a sighting -on the previous day- of a male Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinum) dragonfly basking in the sun along the Megunticook River, despite the 48 degrees Fahrenheit temperature. It may be a record for the last living dragon in these parts!

November is a restless month. I often recall that this is the month that inspired Melville’s Ishmael to leave the farm in the late 1800′s and head to sea.

We did not get all the way to our goal before the weather went cold, the leaves started turning color, and the adult dragonflies (Aeshna…Darners) reached the end of their lives when their food supply dwindled. I’m ready for winter, but excited about next spring. I’ve heard that males travel repeatable paths within a very small territory, and do so much more in the spring than at season’s end. We’ll see. In this photo, Ella S. studies the local talent.

I do believe that at some point, engineering and ecology can go together. I do believe that environmentalists would do better in the long run if they embraced engineers and the future, rather than let past failures completely cloud their judgement. Yes, it takes effort to succeed. And observational patience. Failing equipment. More to come. Yet, cameraman David W and I are on to something now that’s yielding some success. Containment is part of the solution. Understanding boundaries. And timing. And yesterday, a girl named Ella and her mom Jenny. Thanks, all. Today, perhaps another try…