Posts Tagged ‘fall color’
What Odds
What are the odds of receiving a book as a gift from a friend and discovering it was written by someone you know? For me, it is 100%. Our friends, Pam and John found a book they thought I would appreciate, “Nutshells: Diversions in a Time of Pandemic” by Doug Wilhide. I do appreciate it. Doug was a regular participant in the annual June biking and camping week back when I started riding what is now the Tour of Minnesota.
Our joint participation overlapped for a lot of years. Doug shares my interest in several passions, including writing. There is also singing and, of course, riding bikes. I just saw Doug again last June at the social/reunion held in Waconia on the rest day of our 50th anniversary ride. That was a special treat.
What are the odds of finding a fancy-colored maple leaf on the driveway before the leaves on our trees show obvious signs of changing?
Pretty good, I’d say, especially after a big storm wind that could carry leaves great distances has recently blown.
There were 2” of rain in the gauge yesterday morning after two rounds of lightning, thunder, and heavy rain pounded us overnight.
There was also standing water on our trails in the woods and the tall grass that is overdue for mowing stayed wet all day since the dew point remained high.
What are the odds that the whole body itching that Asher is dealing with is from some environmental cause? He’s going to visit the vet later this morning to see if they can come up with a diagnosis. It’s been bothering him for days and it seems to be getting worse instead of better.
He seemed feverish yesterday which triggered our request to get him seen between previously scheduled appointments. Poor guy can’t get comfortable and frequently stops on walks to scratch.
Since the grass was too wet to mow yesterday, I resorted to using the power trimmer to clean up beneath the wires of the electric fence.
Looking back at the distance I covered is rewarding.
Looking ahead at the amount still to do is not as rewarding.
What are the odds I can get the rest of that distance done on one tank of gas? I’d say about 50/50 if I don’t get distracted and start cutting more than just the fence line. Sometimes tall weeds grab my attention or I follow a side rut that’s been dug to encourage water to flow to the main drainage ditch along our south border. Those other areas deserve to be trimmed, too, but it just means I don’t get as far down the fence on a tank of gas.
Like so many projects on our property, I think I benefit from not trying to finish the entire fence line all at once. The odds are better for my body if I mix a variety of activities in a day.
This morning I will be starting with a visit to Physical Therapy for my shoulder and aching leg to improve the odds I’ll get over the pesky pains I’ve been living with this month. We are down to 8 days until departing for Iceland to become tourists on that scenic island country.
What are the odds I’ll be able to hike pain-free after trying to sleep sitting upright on a plane for long hours? This would be a good time for me to dwell in [positive] possibilities.
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Calming Nerves
We are witnessing good progress in helping the horses to accept the inside of the barn as a non-threatening environment by continuing to give them time to freely explore the stalls and open space. There was much less anxiety on display yesterday morning as the horses moved around to sniff and listen to the walled confines.
It was clear watching Mix’s ears that she was just listening to what it sounded like inside the barn as she stood stationary for a long span of time. It was a marked difference from the constant alerted movements all four horses demonstrated the first two times we invited them in last week.
Doesn’t look like weather will be forcing us to confine the horses indoors any time soon. The warm, dry month of September is carrying on into the first week of October for us with more of the same. Fall color is intensifying accordingly. Red has arrived!
Can that be both calming and invigorating at the same time? Yeah, it’s a little of both.
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Recent Scenes
Thanks to Cyndie for capturing these views of the last few days. Enjoy these visual examples of the world as it was revealed to her.
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Brilliant Day
The weather yesterday was perfect for a September outdoor event. A lot like the day 40-years ago today when Cyndie and I were married in a garden on the shore of Lake Minnetonka. Blue skies, warm sunshine, and tree leaves turning colors right before our eyes.
I took Delilah for a walk in anticipation of the arrival of Hays family visitors and paused on the first hill of our driveway to enjoy the fresh breeze and take in the panoramic view of the horses peacefully grazing in the hayfield. The beginnings of the rainbow of fall colors are noticeable along the horizon.
Throughout the day of visiting and gorging on delicious food, we took time for walks in the woods and visits with the horses. The herd is growing more welcoming of human presence and they all made very obvious movements to approach us as we arrived near the areas they were grazing.
I had turned off the electric fence for the day to remove that concern while larger numbers of people come around, but that change is a little confusing for the horses. We try to have our greetings happen at one of the gates to give the horses consistency but the spontaneity of yesterday’s connections had us at unusual locations along the fenceline.
At one point, a group of us made our way up to the barn overhang, hoping the horses might follow along, despite them being over the rise on the far side of the hayfield. Initially, only Light decided to make the journey back and she was rewarded with some hand-offered treats.
After a time, Mia came into view as she returned as far as the waterer before deciding to reverse direction and head back out. The two chestnuts looked as though the distance of separation between them and the other two horses was something they preferred to minimize.
Their bond with each other is still stronger than any bond with us humans.
The bond with my family is as strong as ever and we enjoyed catching up on a few details and comparing experiences and perspectives. We share a lot of traits and laughed over how much our lives and behaviors tend to resemble our parents.
After the first couple had departed, we realized our neglect in capturing a group portrait. By the end of the day, we never got around to posing for any specific group pictures. I guess we will need to get together again soon so we can make up for that oversight.
The only picture I took included the spread of scrumptious delights available for human grazing presented on the center island of the kitchen.
Today, we hop from one family gathering to another as this day of Cyndie’s and my wedding anniversary is also the day of Julian’s birth. Cyndie’s mom and brother will be joining us for a brunch date in St. Paul at Holman’s Table in a renovated control tower of St. Paul’s downtown airport to celebrate the occasions.
Happy birthday, Julian!
Happy September 19th, everyone!
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September Eleven
Twenty years later, I’m pausing to remember my trauma of that day, witnessing so many other peoples’ trauma over the unimaginable death and destruction unleashed by fanatical terrorists hijacking commercial jets containing passengers to use them as explosive missiles.
I spent the first moments, and then the unfolding hours, trying to grasp the reality that such things could be happening. We didn’t learn of the events after the fact. We witnessed much of it as it was happening. I’ve never really liked hearing the sound of a commercial jet flying overhead after that day twenty years ago.
This morning, I turned on some of the television coverage of memorial events being held at the three locations where the planes crashed. In Minnesota, they read the names of people from the state who were killed that day, as well as Minnesota members of the military who died in the wars since.
Thinking of John Lennon’s lyric “Imagine there’s no countries…,” how many more names would need to be recited if loved ones from Afghanistan were to read the names of all who died in the twenty years since.
Meanwhile, in the idyllic surroundings of our home on this beautifully warm September day, we are living life in peace. The first hints of color continue to slowly transition in the panorama of trees along the edges of our woods.
On this third day of being the only person feeding our animals, they are all settling into my way of doing things. On Thursday evening, the horses demonstrated a fair amount of uncertainty navigating the feeding routine, but as I have adjusted my methods and they’ve responded willingly, this morning was as serene as ever.
Having watched Swings lose as many pellets out of her mouth as she consumes, I’ve started soaking her servings in a little water first and that seems to be making it easier for her. We had hoped having their teeth floated would help her more than it appears to have done.
This morning I decided to try again to use the hay boxes I built. They were powering through a single bale so fast the last time we tried using these that we switched to providing the net feeders from which they were used to eating.
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If they make it through a bale too fast today, I’ll plot a modification to the grate that might slow it down to something comparable to grass-grazing speed, if I can guess what that actually is.
It seems illogical to me that they would prefer dry hay bales over the two large fields of fresh grass that we provide them full access to day and night, but I’m not a horse. I trust they know why they make the choices about what to eat.
As rescued thoroughbreds, they know about memories of trauma.
Today we are soaking up the peacefulness we have been afforded and adding another day of distance from the source of our past traumas.
We will never forget, but we will always seek that world where we all be as one.
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Red Leaves
On my drive home from work yesterday, I accidentally allowed myself to hear news on the radio as it blathered nothing but bad vibes, one after another. It knocked me for a loop that needs an antidote of something hopeful or some promise that better days for all might lie ahead. I can only assume that promise remains somewhere beyond the horizon because it’s not visible to me yet.
I am lucky, though. Home is a sanctuary with Cyndie and our animals happy to greet me when I arrive and the scenery around our house offering a soothing view.
Check out the maple tree leaves turning red over Cyndie’s gardens.
It’s an early adopter.
Surrounded by love in our paradise, I was able to leave the gloomy news behind for the time being.
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Early Success
Part of me is hesitant to claim success about a recent transplanted tree, well, trees, but we have decided to enjoy it while it lasts. The truth really won’t be revealed until next summer, as to whether the four oaks we hastily decided to dig up and move out in the open field beyond the paddock ultimately survive the transplantation.
In the weeks since we moved them, these four oak trees have barely showed a symptom of shock. Now they are displaying the best of fall color, just as if nothing had happened to disrupt normal routine.
I don’t know if this apparent good health is a valid indicator of the overall success of our bold plan. I am prepared to discover otherwise next spring, but for now, we are tickled to see the normal fall behavior playing out.
If these work out, I will definitely be emboldened to do more of this to expand the range of oak trees on our property in the years ahead. There are so many little volunteer sprouts that show up every spring where they aren’t wanted or can’t be allowed to grow to maturity, we always have many opportunities from which to choose.
It is part of a long game, dreaming someday of tall trees that will provide natural cooling shade under which our horses can benefit.
It all starts with acorns and involves a little effort to nurture young trees in new locations.
Here’s hoping for success.
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Waning Days
In the slow but steady march of days away from one season and toward the next, we have now arrived to chilly mornings, complete darkness when I wake up for the day-job, and leaves changing from green to red.
Last week when I mowed, I noticed this sprinkling of color in the grass beneath the maple tree that always turns the earliest. It’s become a reliable harbinger of the beginning of the end of summer for us.
I should be thrilled. Autumn has always been my favorite season. But I think that is changing. Maybe, with age, I am developing a more balanced perspective. I think it feels more accurate now to frame my view as appreciating all the seasons equally.
Today is the first day of the Minnesota State Fair. That means a lot more to me in theory than it does in practice. I rarely attend the fair anymore, however, the memories I hold from past visits, and the one year I worked a booth there, are a thread that keeps me feeling connected, whether I go or not. It is a blast of activity that serves as an exclamation mark at the end of summer.
It all has me feeling a little melancholy, which is rather uncharacteristic for me this time of year. Luckily, it can’t last, as the season of wood fires brings me great joy, and we have already lit a couple in the fireplace to ward off a bit of chill in the last few days.
Bring on the fall sports, the spectacular colors, the crisp air, the end of bugs, the time between mowing and shoveling, the harvest festivals, and Cyndie’s apple crisps.
The waning days of summer become the waxing days of autumn. Bring it on, I say.
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Fall Arrives
Fall has definitely arrived. Suddenly, all the essential tasks of preparation for freezing temperatures and accumulating snow take on an increased level of urgency.
Last spring, I removed the snow plow apparatus from the Grizzly and discovered one of the welds on the frame was broken. All the welds have been repaired or enhanced, but I need to reattach the components of the plow and get it remounted on the ATV. Can you say, memory test?
I am thrilled to have one essential project taken care of in advance of freezing temperatures. On Thursday, a plumber arrived to replace a soldered frost-proof hose spigot that was leaky. While he was here, I had Cyndie ask him to look at the filter on our incoming water line. It has always bugged me that it appeared to have been installed backwards, but involved way too many plumbing joints to change than I felt comfortable messing with.
He was more than happy to fix it for us, and I am more than happy to have a correctly installed, spanky new filter in place. In addition, he made improvements to the routing of the water line which raised the filter up to a much handier height for maintenance.
I don’t mind paying for the services of a tradesman who can efficiently do work that I have no experience with, especially when they make improvements that exceed my expectations. I can’t help myself pausing just to stare at the new filter, as if it is a work of art, on display.
Yesterday, while walking Delilah on the perimeter trail through our woods, I was enjoying the layer of brown leaves that now cover the ground. I always love the way fallen leaves create the look of a spectacular carpet beneath trees.
Suddenly, the ground changed to a brilliant glow of color that inspired me to pull out the phone camera. Why all the color in this spot? All I needed to do was look up.
Things have really taken on the appearance of fall around here this weekend. Time to get ready for what comes next.
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Relative Something 