Warm and Windy
Not November, but change is in the air.
Not exactly the day one would plan—Pax to the vet, and phone not accepting calls, but in the end, everything fine.
Bats In The Back Yard
Great fun to see their silent aerial acrobatics against the darkening sky, with Mars rising in the background.
And here, another aerial shot of the park, this time from an altitude of 400 feet, and all the leaves on the ground. (Zoom in enough and you can see the leaves.)
And, here, a poem I find worth reading:
Nothing Is Far
—Robert Francis
Though I have never caught the word
Of God from any calling bird,
I hear all that the ancients heard.
Though I have seen no deity
Enter or leave a twilit tree,
I see all that the seers see.
A common stone can still reveal
Something not stone, not seen, yet real.
What may a common stone conceal?
Nothing is far that once was near.
Nothing is hid that once was clear.
Nothing was God that is not here.
Here is the bird, the tree, the stone.
Here in the sun I sit alone
Between the known and the unknown.
O Frabjous Day!
A great day for our country.
Believe This
BY RICHARD LEVINE
All morning, doing the hard, root-wrestling
work of turning a yard from the wild
to a gardener’s will, I heard a bird singing
from a hidden, though not distant, perch;
a song of swift, syncopated syllables sounding
like, Can you believe this, believe this, believe?
Can you believe this, believe this, believe?
And all morning, I did believe….
Backyard Bonfire…
…across the street, with our little neighborhood group.
And below, just another look at how people are socializing in the time of COVID.
Indian Summer
I believe it’s acceptable to use that term. Over 70 after a hard frost. Just about the most perfect weather possible.
Still very up tight about the vote count. Alabama and Mississippi can apparently count, and even Wisconsin, but for some reason not Pennsylvania, Georgia, Arizona, or Nevada.
I need to think of other things.
Still Feeling Shaky…
…but a little better than in the midst of last night’s delirium.
This horse was a beautiful chestnut color yesterday afternoon—until it started watching the returns.
On my very long, head-clearing ride today I almost fell off the bike when a big red-tailed hawk swept close overhead and let out with its blood-curdling scream. Also came across several huge flocks of grackles gathering in prep for their journey south. Incessant chatter—these are sociable birds.
On Tenterhooks…
…though doing everything possible so far today to avoid thinking about it. Rearranging the sock drawer, putting all foldable currency in numerical order by serial number….
Actually, trying to help the county Democratic party support voters by providing refreshments….
About 30 voters in line, in Whitewater, at 7:20 A.M.
…to voters stuck in line. However, from 10 until four (our shift) there was no line, just a steady stream. This could be a positive indication that all the early voting has reduced the necessity of standing in line.
Now, on to the rest of the evening…….!!!~~***^^$#@!^&*()_+!
Ice On The Ponds…
…in shallow places.
And perfect weather for tilling the garden, which should be done in autumn. Eventually, a layer of shredded leaves, on top of which a little compost, on top of which a layer of snow. Then, in the spring, time to grow.
Avoiding most news feeds, and trying to stay calm.
A Whole Lot of Really Fresh Air…
…moving by at a high rate of speed.
Meanwhile, up with the bird feeder.
High Wind Halloween…
…during COVID time.
Sue made up 100 TP-wrapped candy clusters, and they are out in the driveway to minimize the chance of contagion. Surprisingly, lots of kids coming by—more than any year previous.
Pax and I stay indoors, because Pax is SCARY, and barks a lot when people come to the house. This new system works really well—Pax hasn’t barked yet. Of course, things would be different it we had typical Halloween weather—cold, with freezing rain.
But we don’t.
Carry Out
Although the larder is full, we picked up chili at our favorite breakfast place in Milton, partially because we haven’t been able to have breakfast there for the past eight months, and because we are hoping to have breakfast there once again—as soon as there is a national covid plan.
It’s also nice not to have to cook—every so often.
This Albanian family was doing great—until the virus crippled their business. But they seem resilient and adaptive, and may well survive the pandemic.
A Chicken In Every Pot…
…or so said Hoobert Heaver. I’m thanking FDR for the bird in the oven tonight, and looking forward to a new new deal, and then chicken at a restaurant, once the damned virus is dealt with seriously. Go, Joe.
Visit To County Dem Headquarters…
…as an excuse for a scenic drive in the country.
And now Sue is calling 100 voters who have requested absentee ballots but have not yet returned them. That’s a thankless job.
One More Week of Fear and Trepidation…
…one more week of angst and dread. The future of our democracy hangs in the balance…come on people.
Aerial shot of Starin Park, soon to be home to an arboretum, I hope.
First Snow Day
Just need to mark the date for future reference. And, maybe later, when I have the time, I will flip back one, two, and maybe three years, to late October to see what conditions were back then. Quite sure I don’t want to flip back to early November four years ago.
And for dinner, homemade pizza, using the Pinebox recipe.
Early Snow Can Be Good…
…especially in Estes Park, Colorado, where, apparently, the town has been saved from the fires by the snow. The Spaldings, having been evacuated to Denver for the past three or four days, are breathing relief that their home appears spared.
No snow here in Whitewater, but some just a few miles north at Aztalan, where the three of us went for a late afternoon outing, just to get out of the house.
Well, If That Don’t Beet All…
…caught red-handed.
All told, 14 quarts and 4 pints. Much better harvest than anticipated.
Groceries Are Nice..
…but, apart from what is grown at home, acquiring them has become a pain.
I used to like grocery shopping the European way—stopping by a market every afternoon to see what was new, fresh, interesting, and on sale. Nowadays, not so much. In fact, nowadays we attempt to limit our grocery shopping to once every three weeks (but we sometimes fail). Although we no longer wipe down every can and cucumber, unpacking, sorting, and stashing is a major undertaking. (Thanks Sue—while I bring in, she puts away.)
After noon, over to Tom’s in Fort to photograph the last of the Tig paintings (below). On the way home, a stop at Allen Creek, as illustrated above.
Today’s Blog, Today
Remembered this time. But not a lot to consider—chilly, dark, and damp. Lots of rain last night, and now thunderstorms in the forecast.
Pax and I to the flowing well to recharge our tankards (perfect coffee water), then to the forest preserve for a look-see and a sniff. Great Lakes still full to overflowing, and fires in the west. Looks like the Spaldings might have to evacuate Estes Park.
Memory Lapse
I knew it would eventually happen. I’ll just have to pretend that this morning is really last evening.
About the time traditionally devoted to blogging I was making a presentation to the Park and Rec Board promoting the idea of an arboretum at Starin Park. The proposal was accepted, and I forgot about other responsibilities.
Above, just a portion of yesterday’s beet harvest. Looks to be a good crop.