Who’s Soggy Now?

Barrels and buckets for hours and hours. It quit for a while, but then about 5 in the a.m., a mighty cell moved from west to east, to the north. Radar had it moving across the mainland some 20 miles away, but even from this vantage point it appeared as an incandescent nebula of incessant electrical discharge, accompanied, muted by distance, by a continuous roar. Glad it missed us. On the other hand, more moisture is not what Michigan/Huron needs right now.

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Garden Reset…

…followed by serious a duck-drownder. Extended downpour mixed with plenty of lightning and the heavy, rolling thunder that is only possible over wide expanses of water. For some reason, though flickering, the power stayed on (so far). Huge amount of unneeded moisture—ground saturated, water in the swales.

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Following the Max Burt advice, tilling in the fall, so that come spring all that is needed is “a rake and a hoe.”
My leisurely pace with the shovel was accelerated by distant rumbles of thunder, and I finished up just as the first drops came down.

Heartwood and sapwood?

Heartwood and sapwood?

Sumac

Sumac

Laundry Day…

…and grass cut day, and cycle on trailer day, and prepare the porch-wrap day, etc.

Not ours; we don’t have such colorful sheets.

Not ours; we don’t have such colorful sheets.

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Cloudy, chilly, and windy. Blowing like stink right now. Fire in the stove tonight.

And, things are getting crowded at the Falls.(Video by Sue)

Easing Into The Checklist…

…the shutdown checklist, that is. No need to rush, but no need to save everything for the last minute.

Unretouched photo by Sue—looks like a painting.

Unretouched photo by Sue—looks like a painting.

The definition of fall?

The definition of fall?

Trench dug in big upper level chip pile in anticipation of hibernating coreopsis. Tipis erected around new white pines and wrapped in bird netting (as deer repellent).

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And, for dinner…

And, for dinner…

Climate Protest…

…at Wagg’s Woods and then on the streets in Mindemoya.

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Too preoccupied to remember to take a photo, but got photographed by a reporter, so mug and protest sign may be in the paper. About 50 protesters, in rain gear.

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Then, straight from the protest to dinner at Buoys. Pax had a bad day—lots of car time in the rain.

Being deluged now—climate change.

Salmon Run

Many big fish working their way up river, resting in the slack water before thrashing up the rapids.

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Fall day, bright and clear and cool, with a touch of color showing up here and there. Thunderstorm last night, but conditions not too muddy at the dump.

In Spite Of The Rain

Outdoor showers (a bit wet), dog walks (in the intervals), plus the more indoor rainy-day stuff like reading, writing, napping, sitting on the porch experiencing rain while staying dry, and watching an episode or two of our new TV binge—Kim’s Convenience.

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What made traditional economies so radically different and so very fundamentally dangerous to western economies were the traditional principles of prosperity of creation versus scarcity of resources, of sharing and distribution versus accumulation and greed. Of kinship usage rights versus individual exclusive ownership rights. And of sustainability versus growth.

This was a relationship model, a kincentric model, one in which we are all equal, but we have different jobs to do here on earth.

—John Mohawk

Bird Migration

Back in the day, not so many years ago…

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…the human people wondered where all the bird people went when the days grew short and the leaves began to turn. One theory suggested that they tunneled underground and waited out the winter there. Another held that they sank themselves below the waters, like frogs and turtles, until the coming of spring.

But then came the arrow stork, or pfeilstörchen, showing up in Germany carrying arrows from Africa.
Gross, yes, but conclusive—birds migrate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“An Apocryphal History of the Discovery of Migration, or The Sacrifice of the Pfeilstörchen”

Alba Cid

Translated by Jacob Rogers

 I, wearing heron symmetrically opposed over my chest,
swore to the five emperors that there was no such thing as balance,
   that if herons upheld
the rivers on all Chinese porcelain it was
simply due to
a locking mechanism in their joints.

 they awarded me for risking everything in my defense.
I wrote to you a few years later. I said:
Rostock, sixth of July,
it’s awful of me to interrupt, but I just
need you to understand how certain kinds of wounds can be useful.
I’m finishing up an essay
on pre-modern explanations for bird migration,
and all the species seen since Aristotle’s time as either moon travelers
or sailors that very rarely return.

 I even studied a pamphlet from 1703
that argues for the communion of swallows,
that they gather in wetlands
and follow a specific choreography to perch on top of the rushes
until they sink.
they spend winters underwater, in the hypnotic calm of the muck,
and that’s why they emerge so klein damp in spring.

 but in 1822 (I carefully attached the photograph),
an arrow pierced the neck of a stork in central Africa
and the bird began its flight bearing both weapon and wound.
when it reached Germany, someone identified the origin of the
   projectile,
and went on to form a scientific hypothesis.

 I don’t remember much more of the letter, except:
pain and brightness are distributed in equal parts,
and lightness only exists because of past excess.
Since it’s the migratory season (I concluded)
I hope you don’t mind if I bypass the formula for farewells—

 Atlantic in between us,
every anemone is fluttering along with the currents.

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