The fuzzy log above points to an abandoned homeless camp just off Old Jefferson Road.
Unique construction includes a large section of drainage pipe connected to a tent-sized bamboo structure with a brick oven/fireplace. The drainage pipe has linens and pillows inside.
The roof is a sagging bag of rainwater and pine straw.
Out of 159 counties in Georgia, Clarke has the 8th highest poverty rate.
Ten yards away, country club members tee off.
This first go at moss terrariums follows a tutorial by a Brooklyn based terrarium store. Inspired, I hiked along a stretch of railroad that runs through Whitehall Forest, harvesting verdant rugs, small chunks of pink and greyscale granite, and parched epiphytic aliens.
The simple tutorial fails to include instructions and tips for anyone interested in creating lasting enclosed microenvironments. After a week, the apothecary terrarium above is growing a white, moldy beard from the sphagnum layer. While troubleshooting, I discovered some comprehensive websites dedicated to the natural art beyond home decor trends. These are the best so far:
The next batch will include a layer of activated charcoal to absorb any toxins, cleanse the water as it travels up and down, and (hopefully) stem mold growth.
Abandoned Experiment Station
In 2008, a friend heard a rumor that students in the UGA ag school were dumping carcasses near the banks of the Middle Oconee River, somewhere within a 740 acre forest managed by the Warnell School of Forestry. We spent a day hiking through the woods searching for skeletons, but found nothing suspicious, except for a deer stand.
About a year later, on a mid-winter railroad hike through the same forest, I found a twenty yard stretch of bones strewn along the tracks, including over forty skulls. The larger ones were recognizable, with (female) antler stubs still attached to spinal columns and hanging mats of tan fur. A colleague at school identified the smaller skulls as raccoon. Each had a pencil width puncture just behind the eye, splitting the braincase.
A half mile from the slaughter, around a dozen deer are tagged and caged within a tall fence.
The graves in the Oak Grove Cemetery date back to 1788. Continue reading