Posts Tagged ‘change of seasons’
Finally Frosty
There will be a little break from my whining about how hot it is for this time of year because normal temperatures have returned for a while. In fact, the air temps made a jump from too hot all the way down to freezing in rather short order.
The horses were looking forward to the first rays of sunlight reaching them so they could soak up that solar warmth. The thickness of the frost was impressive in places, particularly on top of the wood post of the hay field fence.
I crouched down to get a shot of the frosty grass by holding my phone close to the ground. It wasn’t until I saw the image on my computer screen that I noticed there was one rogue grass blade standing tall among all the freshly mowed grass around it. How did that one dodge the cutting blade?
I have no idea. Ya gotta give it to that grass blade, though. It found a way to stand out among the crowd.
So, we are at the awkward season of transition between always thawed and usually frozen. Do we shut off all the outside water and drain everything now, or wait and risk being forced to do it all at once later, when the next string of cold nights arrives? We’ve decided to do a little of both. We have drained and rolled up some hoses to store for the winter. The landscape pond pump will continue to run for a while longer.
It’s a bit like deciding when to rake up leaves. Too early, and more will fall back onto the lawn. Too late, and they could freeze up and get buried by an early snowfall.
I’m not complaining (even though it may seem like I am) because the four changing seasons are one of the most wonderful aspects of living where we do. The challenges of the transition weeks are not a bug; they are a feature that builds character.
It’s funny to me that I forgot I needed to dress more warmly when I stepped out the door yesterday into the predawn frosty environment. Where are my insulated gloves, anyway? Oh, yeah, I forgot I have a fleece vest for cold weather. That reminds me, I bought new quilt-lined flannel shirts last year.
I think all that summer-like heat of the last few weeks lulled me into an aimless indifference about preparing for cooler weather. Last year at this time, we had just returned from Iceland, where I had packed all sorts of layers for outdoor adventures. I was already in cold-weather mode when we got home.
Frost is supposed to mark the end of the growing season. With luck, maybe I won’t need to do more than a few spot mowing sessions to finish off managing our grass growth once and for all in 2025.
Remind me to check on the status of our snow shovels soon.
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Summer Remnants
The end is near. The scenery is reflecting the change of seasons in a variety of places around our property. The trumpet vine sprouted one last blossom that stands out like an emphatic exclamation.
There is evidence of fruit on one of our grape vines. I fear we may have waited too long to harvest.
The spell of abnormal heat is predicted to break tomorrow, with a hint of possibility we could get a little precipitation this afternoon to help usher in the change. Any moisture will be welcome because the earth around here is much drier than our trees deserve.
Could a cold and wet October await? That would be a wonderful surprise at this point. It is time for the remnants of summer to disappear once and for all this year. That was then. This is now.
We Northlanders get a little flummoxed when the weather here stays “San Diego nice” for too long without interruption.
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Difficult Simplicity
Why did I come up with that silly two-word combination for today’s post title? Physical therapy exercises, that’s why. Yesterday morning I received a phone call before 7:30! Who calls anyone that early? My doctor had news about the MRI of my shoulder confirming a small tear in my rotator cuff. He has referred me to an orthopedic specialist for consultation.
Regardless, I’ve already started seeing a physical therapist to address the shoulder and (not necessarily related) sciatic pain radiating down my left leg. The initial exercises the therapist has prescribed are along the lines of “flossing” the nerve. Inherently simple. They involve only slight motions to be repeated ten or twenty series twice a day.
For something so simple, I am finding it really difficult to accomplish. It’s too easy and doesn’t feel like I am doing anything perceivable in the way of progress. It bores me and I am easily distracted from the task. I find myself inclined to rush things. The 3 or 4 routines for the shoulder and then the same number for my leg/lower back issue are no match for the energizing effort of my long-duration planking or strength poses I regularly do.
Some simple things are difficult to do.
At the same time, I am doing something very easy this weekend.
Guess where we are.
The weather is supposed to become steamy hot for a few days and there is no better place to cope with high heat than on a lake.
Maybe I’ll see how many of my simple flossing motions I can pull off while floating half-submerged in the cool water of Round Lake.
Don’t look now, but there is something going on with the trees up here that hints of a change a-coming.
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View Within
Living in farm country has exposed me to the life cycle of cultivated crops and I was just commenting to Cyndie the other day how entire fields of soybeans suddenly all turn from green to yellow-brown in about a day. I wondered what it is they trigger on. The hours of sunlight? The reduced angle of the sun? Some particular overnight low temperature?
Boom. All at once, the field is no longer green.
Walking through our woods yesterday, I realized some of the ground cover that grows beneath the canopy has abruptly traded its green color for yellow.
That is a blurry photo but I am using it anyway because it still shows exactly what I’m describing.
Driving through the countryside to see the fall colors won’t show you this version of autumn. The view from within the forests of the fading greenery provides a different perspective of transformation after summer is over.
I did succeed in capturing a couple of other views from yesterday that weren’t as blurry.
It won’t be long before our boardwalk will become entirely obscured by a thick blanket of leaves. You won’t see any of the wood blocks after the maple trees drop their leaves.
The views from within the forest of the changes from summer to fall are a wonderful compliment to the brightly colored tree tops available from a distance.
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Colors Intensifying
It’s already as dark as can be in the morning when I depart for my commute to the Cities and almost as dark before dinner’s barely finished so the swing of seasons is unmistakable. What I miss while I am at the day-job is the rapidly intensifying colors unfolding in a select few of our trees around Wintervale.
Luckily, Cyndie is home to capture the spectacle for me.
Soak it up with me…
Is that fun or what?!
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Autumn Arrives
The autumnal equinox arrives locally at 8:30 a.m. CDT today. Despite enjoying fabulous summerlike temperatures this week, it is truly beginning to feel like fall. For one thing, the ground is dry. I think the ground has dried out only two times in the almost 8-years we have lived here. This has had a big impact on the way our woods look.
The green vegetation is much thinner than usual. The first colorful leaves are just starting to carpet the forest floor. Soon it will be impossible to see the ground and walking will become a crunching rustle of leaves with every step.
With that feature comes the unmistakable aroma of autumn.
Last night, Cyndie had a little scare when arriving at the coop around dusk to close things up after all the chickens were inside. The net fencing where she has the access point to climb inside showed signs of being monkeyed with by some unauthorized character.
Ol’ Rocky the Rooster might need to grow up real fast in order to protect his brood before they all reach adulthood.
Maybe he already did. Cyndie reported all chickens accounted for, safe on the roosts.
The amount of cover in the wooded acres surrounding the coop is quickly disappearing. That gives the free-ranging hens fewer places to hide, but it also gives any potential predators less cover for sneaking up on the girls.
I spotted a stray cat prowling in our small paddock on Sunday in broad daylight while I was walking Delilah. Our silly dog never saw the cat, but the cat saw us and made a hasty exit, stage left, where it ran up our North Loop trail out of sight.
I walked Delilah toward that direction and watched her pick up the scent and go nuts, wanting to follow the trail. I pulled rank and made her come my way, back to the house.
The Light Brahma pullet seems to be reflecting the seriousness of so much drama happening as the change of seasons launches a new batch of adventures. Their nights are getting longer and the air will soon be getting colder.
In the meantime, we are going to enjoy this agreeable autumn to the fullest.
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Little Scary
Summer is going out with a bang this year. Tomorrow will mark the change to autumn already, preceded last night by a late season outbreak of severe weather that provided a little scare in our parts.
We were aware there was a chance for heavy weather, but after a couple of intense downpours, our concern lessened and we turned on a DVD movie up in the loft. Three quarters of the way into “Trumbo,” my phone went into alarm mode beneath us on the main floor. At almost the same time, Cyndie received a text warning us our area was about to get hit hard.
I shut down the movie and brought up the local television broadcasts to see what they were reporting. The radar image looked ominous enough that we decided to hustle down from the loft and switch the news on in the bedroom. My natural aversion to hiding kept us from going all the way to the basement, despite the advice of the weather broadcasters. I wanted to be able to see what was happening.
Locally, nothing worth noting was happening, even though the radar image made it appear the worst of it was just moving overhead. I put on boots to step outside, hoping get a better sense of what was really happening.
What was happening was, it had started to rain, so I closed the door and kicked off the boots. It finally changed from dead calm –the calm was actually more eery– to moderately windy. I never noticed a significant main gust.
While broadcasters talked about the possibility of tornadoes wrapped in the rain in very close proximity to our location, we only saw evidence of normal thunderstorm bluster with heavy rain in the barely visible evening light, occasionally illuminated for fractions of seconds by flashes of lightning.
It was scary for a little while, based on the radar image and warning messages, but we seem to have dodged any justifiably scary conditions.
Once we get out this morning in the light of day, we’ll have a better sense of whether we took the drama too lightly, or not. You can be assured I will have my camera with me, so I can share what we find, if there is any damage to report.
I’m hoping the brief scare we got last night was the worst that came out of summer’s last thunderstorm blast for 2018.
I’ll let you know.
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Noticeable Changes
I get up at the same time each work day, but the sunrise doesn’t. Yesterday, it was completely dark as I navigated my way, by feel, down the hall toward the kitchen to get my breakfast and lunch items out of the refrigerator, before traipsing toward the garage door with my arm outstretched, heading off to work.
It was the first time this season that I realized I can’t see my way through the house in the morning any more.
Last night, it was cool enough with the doors and windows open that we actually kept the blankets over us in bed. That hasn’t happened in a loooong time.
Having blankets over me must have led to some tossin’ and turnin’ overnight, because the fitted sheet on the mattress had slipped up off the corner and the area under my body looked like it had been through the ringer.
It creates an absolutely unacceptable situation each night when I am ready to tuck in, if the bottom sheet is in a jumble of wrinkles left over from the night before. I am the Princess and the Pea when it comes to my bedtime ritual.
The bottom sheet must be stretched TIGHT, or I am bothered all night long.
Cyndie and I have figured out what we are going to jointly buy for our wedding anniversary next month. New sheets! A set that actually fits our mattress.
Imagine that!
Monday night into Tuesday I had a dream that involved some vivid eating. I filled a bowl with cereal and milk and was shocked with myself to be completely ignoring my self-imposed limitations focused on reducing sugar in my diet. Not only that, but a short time later in the dream, I was taking a bite of some fancy chocolate cookie.
The middle was thick with a gooey chocolate, and as I sank my teeth into it, the creamy chocolate solidified onto my two front teeth. Still in the dream, I reached up to pry the chocolate down off my teeth, which woke me because I had actually reached up and was trying to pull my mouthguard down off my teeth.
I wear the guard to keep from grinding my teeth while I sleep.
Apparently I wasn’t sleeping sound enough to paralyze my body during the dream.
That’s going to change when we get new sheets. The nights are getting longer, what better time to upgrade the sleeping environment?
Yes, I called myself the Princess and the Pea.
It makes Cyndie laugh.
Some things never change.
Here’s another view of the sky from late Monday afternoon.
Those clouds were in a constant state of change, …and it was very noticeable.
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A hint
Walking up toward the house the other day, something new caught my eye. Can you see it?
Probably not. It’s subtle. How about if I zoom in?
It’s the leaves of the tree beyond the house.
Already?
They are showing the first hint of autumn color on our property.
Yikes.
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Slow Fade
Lately, my return trips from the day-job have been providing a mystery surprise ending. Each day, I get to discover how much change there has been in the snow-melt, or whether there are signs of water flowing in the drainage ditches. The big white blanket has been making a slow retreat from our hills and valleys this year.
The good result of that slow fade is a distinct lack of flooding problems. The less desirable result is the prolonged chill radiating off the snow base, not to mention the bothersome, sometimes hazardous footing on our trails.
Even though there is a lot of ground finally exposed, there is still a lot of snow cover remaining.
It’ll take a couple of days of real sunshine to finish off this lingering snowpack. It’s possible that today and tomorrow could do the trick, if the skies clear as predicted, but I won’t be surprised if that doesn’t pan out.
Of course, then we have new snow forecast for the weekend, so it’s not like there’s any expectation of being completely done with the white stuff yet. We’ve learned not to claim that possibility until some time in June.
At least the new snows of spring are much quicker to fade away when the sun comes out after a storm.
It’s almost time to rearrange the storage areas to put the shovels to the rear and bring up the rakes and lawn mowers.
Aaahhh, spring. So close, we can feel it.
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Relative Something 