Posts Tagged ‘moonrise’
Pushing Snow
After a day of clearing more snow, it became glaringly obvious to me that not having to deal with much snowy weather for the last two years has left me way out of practice. Day two of the post-storm clean-up included some roof raking, deck shoveling, and hand shoveling the area in front of the shop garage, since I have yet to remedy the issues with the ATV plow setup.
Gladly, Cyndie came to my aid with the last bit of driveway shoveling, just as I was running on fumes. The killer for me is working the roof rake with my arms over my head, especially with one bum shoulder. It’s exhausterating, to coin a custom word.
It felt like a bit of an insult to receive a fresh dusting of flakes before we’d finished the driveway shoveling. I’d almost forgotten what it was like when snow and cold were the norm at this latitude.
It could snow a little almost every day, and people just get used to there being a coating of snow to navigate on foot or by car.
I really should fix up the plow situation today because there still remains plowing to be done down to the barn and around the hay shed. When I finish that, we can resume clearing out the hay shed of the rest of the bales of moldy hay.
When I clear significant snow this early in the season, it is important to push it well beyond the edges so there will be room for the next snowy event. I will need to accommodate wide turns around the hay shed because there is a delivery of fresh bales sometime in the near future. That means pushing snow well into the grass around the corners.
Seems pretty obvious what my priority for the day should be.
A shot of yesterday’s sunset…
…and the 3/4 moon reflecting the sunlight that was dropping below our horizon.
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Moon Ablaze
I needed to walk our trash bin down to the road last night, a trek that would normally have been time spent with Delilah. [sad face] The moon has been so bright the last few nights, I was looking forward to seeing if we would get another good viewing. As I crested the hill before the road, there was no moon in sight.
It was too early. The sky to the west was speckled with clouds but I figured the moon would show through enough to see in the east.
By the time I had walked the rest of the way to the road and back to the top of the hill again, I turned to find the first hint of the rising moon. Having caught sight of it just as it appeared on our horizon, I decided to stand and watch the rotation of the Earth bring it higher in our sky.
When the full circle of moonlight was visible, I took a picture of how it looked.
It was as if it was on fire!
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Evening Color
Feeding the horses at sunset and Mia finished first. I noticed she had stepped out from beneath the overhang where her silhouette was backed by the brilliant evening colors.
I think maybe she was looking at the half-moon glowing through a thin veil of high clouds.
For all the days I might grumble about needing to step out into the harsh elements, there sure are a lot of rewards for getting outdoors as often as I do.
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And Again
She did it again. Cyndie took another captivating cell phone picture of the moon rising. It’s my lead story this morning.
It’s my only story this morning.
We are enjoying gorgeous days (July weather in October) and fabulous nights (September weather in October). Maybe it will rain tonight.
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Cyndie’s Handiwork
She enriches my life immeasurably in countless ways and today I would like to share a few morsels of her splendor. The produce garden Cyndie hastily planted last spring during the distracting interruption of a knee replacement surgery has now run its course. Last of all the plants to be pulled from the dirt was a stalk of Brussels sprouts that offered edible buds roughly the size of peas.
They were delicious, but at that size, and based on my gut’s eventual reaction, I fear I may have eaten too many in one serving.
Something interesting showed up on our counter and I had to ask what it was.
“A pumpkin!” she says.
In trying to figure out how to describe the size from memory, I decided it could compare to a tennis ball. Looking at the photo again this morning, it reminded me more of a clementine orange. Cyndie disagreed and pulled out a clementine to show me them side by side as proof. The little orange was definitely bigger.
She felt it was more like a lime and pulled one from the fridge to compare. Nope. Even the lime was bigger.
We’ve concluded the little pumpkin compares closer to a ping-pong ball.
Apparently, the dry year we’ve had has squelched the size of some of the garden produce.
One of the best contributions Cyndie provides in support of my blog (beyond the endless fodder for entertaining stories) is the great images she captures on her phone.
The other night as the moon was climbing through clouds while she was walking Delilah, she snapped this gem:
It’s like a painting.
I am a really lucky guy to have this artist’s handiwork in my life.
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The Race
As unlikely as it seems, one current feature for me of being up at our beautiful lake place is the access to television channels we don’t receive through our antenna at home. The Tour de France bicycle race is of most significant interest to me this time of year. Yesterday, we lucked out with an incredibly dramatic series of race moves in the mountains during stage 11 of the race.
There was a classic series of attacks on the leader in the yellow jersey, Tadej Pogacar, by riders on the Jumbo-Visma team that forced him to expend extra energy to respond to each sprint. By the time the riders reached the last monumental climb, Jonas Vingegaard (Jumbo-Visa rider who was 39 seconds behind the leader at the start of the day) seized his opportunity for the ultimate attack on the yellow jersey at about 5km from the summit finish on col du Granon.
Not only did he make up the 39 seconds to claim the yellow jersey, Jonas put 2’22” of time between himself and Tadej. That’s HUGE!
This morning, my broadcast access to stage 12 is going to be time delayed, so I will avoid the news and watch the taped version in the afternoon to preserve the excitement of what happens today. After the monumental effort yesterday in the mountains, it is hard to imagine how these riders get any decent sleep and then get up and compete at the same level for another grueling mountain stage, let alone for all 21 stages of the race.
I plan to take a leisurely stroll on my bike this morning and then watch the racers do battle from the comfort of the couch this afternoon.
Last night we were treated to a gorgeous moonrise over the lake. Cyndie stepped out to capture a picture of our view.
We are having a wonderful time. Wish you were here!
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Every Year
It happens every year, but that never seems to alter the shock. August is gone and September is here. I pulled out a long-sleeved overshirt last night to ward off the chill of the cool evening air. Acorns are falling. Leaves, too.
Cyndie headed down to close the chicken coop after a phone call and found darkness almost got there first. All the birds were snugged in place, including two of the young ones who have taken to making the extra leap up to perch on a 2×4 cross-stud over the side window. Silly girls, but not unprecedented because one of the wyandottes from the last batch used to do the same thing. They’ll get over it after growing wide enough that the perch no longer seems wide enough for comfort.
While Cyndie was down at the coop, she sent me a text with a picture of the moonrise. It enticed me to want to try a similar shot with my Olympus pocket camera. I like them both.
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It didn’t necessarily feel like autumn out there last night, but it definitely felt like the end of summer.
It happens every year.
You’d think I’d get used to the transition by now, but it always seems so all of sudden.
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Relative Something 