Posts Tagged ‘autumn’
November Scenes
The scenery around here has developed a significant November hue now that we are over halfway through the month.
Cyndie’s perennial garden still has a variety of autumn colors on display. The skinny leaves of the willow tree are almost smothering the grass. The grassy plant in the foreground is turning white. The young oak tree on the left is holding onto its dark brown leaves. The farm field in the background that was planted for hay last season and didn’t get tilled after the final cut shows up green, clearly visible behind our natural border fence of brush we’ve cut from fallen trees.
I came upon the horses looking like they were having some kind of meeting. Mix appeared to be losing interest in whatever the topic of discussion was. On second thought, it looks much more like they were just hanging out together on a Tuesday afternoon.
It was beautiful.
I would love to have been able to telepathically view whatever might have been going on in their communication with each other in that moment. Do they engage in idle banter? Seems a little beneath such noble creatures.
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Harvest Rumble
After dark Tuesday night, the familiar rumble of a harvest tractor at high RPMs revealed that we have entered the time when the neighboring farmers are bringing in their crops. They do not pause for darkness, giving evenings a sort of mythical energy not normally present.
It’s weird to walk out in the morning and see the landscape abruptly scraped clean to the soil.
I watched yesterday afternoon as they finished a field of corn just to our south. The high RPMs of the big engine reverberates across the distance when the tractor turns, pointing the raw sound directly toward us. It dulls again as the combine swings around for the next pass. A dusty cloud follows behind.
That harvest rumble is both annoying and comforting at the same time. It’s not unlike the roar of a vacuum cleaner in the house. It’s great that our floors are getting cleaned, but each additional minute of the loud, droning VROOM! ratchets up the involuntary tightening of neck muscles, inducing an unconscious angst.
It feels soooo good when that noisy motor stops.
The tractor left that field, and the sound resumed from the next one down the road. A fading harvest rumble.
While we were feeding the horses, I lingered for a moment to listen to the four of them munching away and realized the tractor rumbling had stopped. It was remarkably serene.
With the low sunshine of late October illuminating the tops of the colorful trees on the horizon, the incredible quiet settling over the land now that the rumbling had stopped, and the calm, contented feeding mares radiating their peaceful energy, it was perfectly blissful.
The harvest rumble is a good thing, but an even better thing is the sound of the silence when it stops.
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Watching Leaves
Friday morning, Asher got a little ahead of us into the woods on our walk. My eye caught sight of something dark with a huge wingspan moving through the trees, most likely in response to the dog’s presence. It was dramatically large, but I couldn’t see anything identifying beyond a total blackness.
Our first impressions were of an eagle or owl, based on the spread of those wings. When it paused briefly on a mid-height branch, it didn’t bring its wings in, giving the impression of possible injury and continuing to strike awe for how big it was to be flying among all our trees. Then it quickly flew away and up into other trees until I couldn’t find it anymore.
We arrived at the barn as the sun was beginning to be visible through the tree branches on our eastern horizon. The temperature had dropped well below freezing overnight, and the frost was significant over the grass. There wasn’t a hint of any air moving.
While I was taking care of groundskeeping in the paddocks, it suddenly sounded like raindrops were falling. I looked up to discover the warm sunshine was bathing the trees, and the sound was coming from scores of leaves letting go and falling, knocking others loose on the way down.
It was mesmerizing. I stared for the longest time without moving as the show played out. The number of leaves breaking loose from branches all at the same time, without the slightest breeze wiggling them free, was mind-blowing.
They just kept breaking away and dropping straight down, making the most interesting chorus of light tapping.
I assume the striking scene was a result of the difference between being frozen overnight and then suddenly warming up in the direct sunlight. As the minutes passed, the spectacle of the falling leaves faded, presumably as the temperature variation in the trees equalized over time.
Asher and I spent much of the day simply watching the beauty of the landscapes around us.
Cyndie took a picture of us sitting on the spot we’ve turned into a lookout at the top of the first rise of the driveway from the road.
I’d been watching the horses make their way lazily from the large paddock out to graze in the hay field.
There was a thin crust of ice on Paddock Lake before the sun appeared high enough to melt it. We have plenty of grass that could be mowed once more, but by the time it gets dry, my motivation is nowhere to be found. Instead, I watched from our perch on the hill as our neighbor mowed his.
If I never get around to it before winter arrives, it won’t be a catastrophe. Somebody seems to be loosening his standards around here. Maybe it’s a result of my recent thinking about what this place would look like if we did nothing to care for it.
Fooling around could have me eventually finding out.
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Protest Day
Just show up. If you do nothing else today, especially if you are one of the millions of Americans who neglected to vote in the last Presidential election and have noticed the current administration is operating more unlawfully than any previous one in the history of our country, join with your neighbors to voice your displeasure.
I OBJECT!
I object to EVERYTHING the Republican politicians and every last one of those who support them are allowing to happen to our country. Cyndie and I will be attending a gathering in Hayward, Wisconsin, today to stand up and be counted among the citizens who are upset about the simultaneous violation of people’s rights and the unabashed profiteering via all manner of grifts and bribery. The constant barrage of “Look what my right hand is doing while I use my left hand to enrich myself at all of your expenses” is heartbreaking and crazy-making.
Here we are in our favorite getaway spot, where it is about as peaceful as possible, living a life of luxury while our fellow citizens in states across the country are under constant threat of being kidnapped in broad daylight by masked thugs masquerading as legitimately trained, law-abiding officers. Hah! As if.
It is unknown how many of the local rural residents of this community will take offense at a democratic demonstration against the racist, homophobic, and transphobic biases that the current despicable President is flaunting, but we are hoping for minimal conflict at the Hayward gathering.
We don’t prefer to leave the precious sanctity of the lakeshore to stand along a highway on a beautiful fall day, but it will only be for a couple of hours at noon, and it’s for an unprecedented cause. Today’s protests are an attempt to turn the tide and light a fire under anyone and everyone who occupies positions of power to hold this administration accountable.
We will need to leave Asher on his own at the log house overlooking the lake, where he can bark at anything that catches his attention while we are away. It will give us an extra incentive not to hang around too long at the protest, even if we find it a treasure to mingle with people who openly agree with our disapproval over what is happening to our country.
Getting back to our paradise on the lake will be a soothing chance to unwind from the intense focus on the awful things we are objecting to and reinvigorate our goal to send LOVE out into the world as a healing balm.
I hope many of you will join in making your voices heard and your wishes known on this national day of protest!
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Officially Autumn
At approximately 1:19 p.m. CDT today, the sun crosses the celestial equator, marking the autumnal equinox for the Northern Hemisphere. Shorter days and longer nights become the reality around here for the next three months. In addition to the noticeable change in sunrise and sunset times, we are finding that the hummingbirds are becoming scarce, and box elder bugs are appearing in giant globs in spots of warm sunlight.
Yesterday, we found a batch of ten or fifteen Monarch Butterflies hanging around in our north loop field.
Only one of which I was able to fit in the frame of this photo. Might they be amassing before a migratory journey?
Some of our trees are actually beginning to show a little color. Fall is officially here. Have they broken out the pumpkin spice yet? Oh, yeah. That happened in August. Well, now I suppose Christmas-themed advertising will be starting soon, if it hasn’t already. We don’t get much exposure to ads these days.
I look forward to discovering how soon the grass will stop growing for the season. In the good old days, I was able to put away lawn mowers when fall arrived. Now, mowing in October is no longer an unlikely occurrence.
Time will tell. Today, I have a lot of grass that needs cutting. I’ll wave goodbye toward the sun as the afternoon hour of the equinox blows past.
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Serious Frost
There have been a handful of mornings recently when there was a hint of frost on blades of grass in low areas, but yesterday morning, we stepped out to find a serious frost on everything. If there is any sense to be found in this world, this should finally mark the end of our growing season.
The air was dead calm, and I got the impression the cold snap had triggered trees to jettison leaves in a spectacular cascade. They were falling like raindrops and sounded a bit like them, too.
I eventually pulled out the mower to (hopefully) make the last grass cut down by the road and along our driveway.
Since it has been so dry for many weeks, I’d not bothered to cut several areas where most of the grass had gone dormant. However, in that amount of time, the swaths where the grass was growing got pretty tall. It feels good to now have it all cleaned up and ready for winter.
It was a day or two later than probably should have been done, but I also hauled the compressor over to blow out the buried water line that runs from the house down to the labyrinth. As long as I was taking care of winterizing chores, I pulled the ATV out from the back of the garage and parked the riding mower in its place.
The Grizzly is now parked front and center and ready to have the plow blade mounted for when it will be needed.
Of course, having done all this because of that heavy overnight frost, now the next six days are forecast to be in the 60s to mid-70s(F) for highs and the 50s for lows.
I just hope another warm spell won’t be enough to inspire grass blades to have one more growth spurt.
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Middle October
You wouldn’t know by looking, but November is just a couple of weeks away. Terror movies, scary costumes, and campaign lawn signs will only intensify between now and then, but soon, it will all be behind us.
For much of my life, I have practiced the fine art of ignoring most of the crafty ways marketing whizzes attempt to grab my attention. When it comes to several house-sized monstrosities erected in and around River Falls with the name of a felonious candidate, I feel a significant dose of smugness in successfully averting my gaze to avoid looking at them every time I drive past.
Conversely, I take great pleasure in rereading the tiny little sign in one farmyard near our home that says simply, “HATE WILL NOT MAKE US GREAT.”
I see what I want to see.
I’m afraid that by the time November arrives, we won’t have any trees with leaves left in them. They are falling fast and furious now, even though some leaves are still pretty green.
I’m a little sad about how many of the leaves have just turned cardboard-brown before dropping to the ground.
One thing about the warm weather that we have enjoyed lately is having our bedroom window open to hear the hoots of our resident owls reverberating through the forest.
We’ve also noticed some instances where wailing sirens from emergency vehicles in the distance have triggered packs of coyotes to respond in kind.
I think the dwindling foliage is leading to sounds carrying further.
It sounds like fall. I think I can even hear the frost forming on the pumpkins.
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Not Instantaneous
When we emerged from the front door this morning, there was a layer of ice on Asher’s water bowl on the steps. Today is the first time this fall that we walked out to sub-freezing air temperatures. Ironically, there was no frost on the grass. The recent rain has saturated the ground which aids in transferring the residual warmth remaining in the earth from summer.
There is no instantaneous point during the change of seasons that entirely switches things over from one to the other. This morning both Cyndie and I found ourselves digging for outerwear –and in Cyndie’s case, a long underwear top– from the closet that we haven’t used in probably 6 months.
Passing snow showers are forecast for the afternoon.
The transition to the frozen season happens in fits and starts. Below freezing at night, above freezing during the day. When several consecutive daytime high temperatures stay below freezing, the transition has progressed to a new level and all of our senses tell us fall is over and winter is on the prowl.
The loss of tree leaves also happens gradually. Some trees started shedding leaves in the second half of August. Fall colors began to burst in the latter half of September. Now, as we approach the end of October, the transition to bare branches is slowly underway.
When tree leaves fall straight down to paint a large circular swath of the grass beneath a tree, it creates a visual spectacle of exclamation that winter is nigh.
As of this morning, my knit stocking cap has replaced all my summer hats.
The leaves will continue to fall.
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Leaves Leaving
Leaves were falling, just like embers
In colors red and gold, they set us on fire
Killing the Blues by Rowland Salley
I went after a little more late-season lawn mowing yesterday afternoon and it turned our backyard striped.
That is what happens when you mow over the leaves instead of raking them up first.
The leaves have been leaving the trees in an increasing amount with each passing day.
It creates a carpet of leaves beneath the trees that produce one of my favorite forest looks.
Cyndie’s prized “door table” under the trees becomes a mystical decoration in a picturesque nook where romping squirrels make so much noise it sounds like a deer must be running through.
Falling leaves. You know what that means?
Falling flakes won’t likely be very far behind.
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Autumn Scenery
I started to title this post, “September Scenery” before I realized it’s already the eleventh day of October. Since it doesn’t feel at all like October, I went with, “Autumn.” I needed to mow grass again yesterday because it is still growing, despite the mornings starting frosty in our low-lying areas.
It might be frosty, but it really doesn’t feel like October.
I wasn’t able to give Light any extra attention yesterday because my time was constantly being demanded by Asher. Cyndie headed for the airport before Asher and I were out of bed in the morning and when he wasn’t begging me to distract him from loneliness, he was searching for where Momma could possibly be. She flew out of state with friends for a few days to celebrate each of their different milestone birthdays occurring this year.
Asher didn’t seem too happy to discover it was just him and me and he failed miserably when it came to employing any self-soothing skills.
His skills of stealth in the woods were still as keen as ever, though.
You might think that’s just a shot of one of our paths into the woods, but look closer…
Sometimes Asher can hide in plain sight.
While he and I were playing with his Jolly Ball in the front yard I heard a familiar screech overhead. I figured I knew what it was but Asher’s wrestling prevented me from being able to turn my head skyward right away to look. The screeching continued enough times that I finally pushed him away so we could both look up.
Sure enough, it was a bald eagle. Three bald eagles, in fact, were circling surprisingly low directly over our heads. I wondered if the screeching was a comment on our activity. Both Asher and I stared for a while as the three majestic eagles circled higher and higher away from us.
I wasn’t quick enough to capture a photo before they were too high to easily see.
Plus, Asher was back to bashing his Jolly Ball into my leg so I would resume wrestling over control of it.
Since Cyndie wasn’t home when he went to sleep last night and won’t be home when he gets up this morning, I’m hoping it will be a little easier for him to adjust to her absence and sync up with my solo routine for the next few days.
It’s not that big a deal for him, but I fear my sanity depends on it.
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Relative Something 