Posts Tagged ‘seasons’
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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No Plan
Sometimes I don’t have a plan for my day beyond the endless list of possibilities awaiting attention around our property. There are always plenty of things to do around here but my motivation doesn’t always rise to the occasion. Add in weather complications or limits of daylight and plans are often subject to change.
When I don’t have a plan then there is nothing to change. I did successfully accomplish a combination of driveway raking and grass mowing yesterday, so that felt like a win. I pushed the ol’ Greenworks lawn tractor to the single digits of battery percentage, making it back to the garage without needing to go get a spare battery.
While raking dirt near the road I was interrupted by the daily mail carrier delivery, a special US Postal package delivery, and a visit with our neighbor to the south. I think he is happy to see our property being well-tended. He always expresses a belief that we should be riding our horses and then regales an oft-repeated tale of the retired racehorses his friend had that were sway-backed beyond belief. They both lived into their 40s he tells us, I think as a way of suggesting ours may enjoy similar longevity.
Yesterday, Cyndie noticed that Swings has a “chunk” of her hoof broken in a way neither of us have seen before. She checked with This Old Horse and learned it wasn’t a cause for major concern. Other than that, I think the herd is showing signs of enjoying the gentle transition toward fall as our temperatures have started to moderate and the hours of daylight are shrinking.
I asked my neighbor if he expected good fall colors this year since we are seeing fewer hints of change than in previous seasons. He said the dryness we are suffering will likely bring good colors and the lack of change so far is just because it’s early yet.
It feels to me like the dry spell is shriveling leaves to brown more than triggering a color change thus far. Time will tell.
I won’t plan for spectacular fall colors and see if that helps. A failure to plan is a plan to fail, no?
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My Reality
Each day when I describe details of my experiences it is a function of a basic tenet of writing: write what you know. One thing I know about is the perceptions I have of the activities of my days. Yesterday, I turned my back on the NCAA Women’s national championship game when it became obvious to me that Iowa would not beat LSU and I went out to tend to the horses.
A glance at the reading from our outdoor thermometer surprised me with the number 51. Looking for a second source, I opened a weather app to see what it offered for a current temperature. The reading from Red Wing, MN –twenty miles to our south– was 57°F! I did not expect this level of warming yesterday. The new snow remaining on the ground from the blizzard Friday night was quickly being transformed into water. Our drainage ditches were flowing like rivers.
I have no idea how this fits into the entanglement of the quantum mechanics of our physical world, but I do know that this quick melt significantly increased the level of mud in the paddocks. At the same time, I cannot describe how I occasionally get a sense of someone in Nepal practicing an endless recitation of the mantra “om mani padme hum” as I breathe our air and take meandering steps half a planet away.
The horses were giving me the impression of being spectacularly patient about the slow melt we’ve been having this spring while they were also slipping into behaviors of being annoyingly impatient about getting served pans of feed after I showed up. The impatience is easily soothed by the arrival of their food and the quartet of munching sounds conveys a new meditative peacefulness that I gladly absorb.
It is April and there is a reason to think we might be gardening soon. Does this image look like our garden is eager to get going?:
I’m trying to absorb some of the horses’ patience about the uneven transition from the snow season to our growing season.
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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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Leaving Us
It’s Tuesday after Labor Day and plenty of fall activities that haven’t already kicked off will be starting today. Our guests left us yesterday for the next leg of their journey in a vehicle that looked to be packed with everything a college freshman would need to get started.
The Birgens awoke in the morning to the news that the Kenyan Supreme Court has ruled that the candidate, William Ruto, was properly elected President in the 2022 general election. One less thing to be concerned about for them at a time their oldest son is starting a new job and the youngest is starting college.
I find myself thinking about how nice it is to be well beyond the years of taking kids to their first year of college. Feels similar to when I began to appreciate getting past the years when September meant “back to school” during the K-12 phase of our kids’ lives.
The few connotations September holds for me now are the onset of fall colors, Cyndie’s and my anniversary (41 years!), Julian’s birthday, and the start of MN Vikings football –despite my best efforts to stop caring about anything having to do with the modern-day NFL. Nothing about getting prepared for school.
I have already noticed the return of school bus traffic on our road at home twice a day, but the impact from that on my life is negligible.
I tip my hat to all of you who have school-age children starting a new bus and/or classroom experience today.
My time with access to television coverage of the U.S. Open Tennis Tournament is ending today as we leave the lake place and return home.
For some reason –probably related to wanting to witness Serena Williams make one last attempt for a major victory at the end of her illustrious career– I was inspired to watch as many live matches as I could this year. I was lucky to have captured a few dramatic matchups that were really exciting and very competitive.
A couple of them were almost as exciting as the end of the Florida State vs. LSU college football game I stumbled upon Sunday night during a break in the tennis.
It’s probably a good thing we are leaving the lake place and all the cable sports channels I have access to here so I can take a break from spectator sports and get outside and give this gorgeous September weather the proper respect it deserves.
It’s my favorite time of year, right up there with my other favorite, winter!
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Edges Covered
With little in the way of fanfare, yesterday we raked up gravel over the last of the exposed asphalt edges of our new driveway. By that point in the exercise, I had lost much of my ability to care about the level of perfection we were achieving compared to when we first started. It’s going to be good enough for all intents and purposes.
The next phase of the driveway finishing project involves backfilling some of the steeper edges with dirt or composted manure but that detail is not as essential. It won’t worry me if we don’t get that all done prior to the arrival of the snow season.
We did make a point of celebrating the accomplishment a little later in the day with a leisurely game of CrossCrib out on our deck. A nod to the vacation-mode feeling of being up at the lake, it occurred to me we have the same game board at home and a deck that offers everything except a view of a lake. We can play at home just as well as up at Wildwood.
We tend to forget sometimes, what with all the landscape and animals vying for our time and attention. A card game in the middle of a beautiful afternoon can be a healthy diversion.
Since today is the Friday of a holiday weekend, we will be traveling north to the lake place again, leaving the dog behind to be cared for by our house and animal sitter, Grace.
This is a routine that has served us well this summer. Labor Day weekend is traditionally the last gasp of summer activities up at the lake. That doesn’t mean we will stop making the trek up there, though. A few trees were already showing signs of fall color on the drive home last weekend. That spectacle provides plenty of incentive to get back up to the lake after Labor Day.
First things first. We have a long weekend to enjoy some very promising-looking weather predicted for the northland.
It will be even nicer knowing the edges of the new asphalt driveway at home are now completely covered with a gravel shoulder.
Huzzah!
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Hue Fatigue
I’m growing weary of the many hues of brown that define the expanse of our outdoor views. Dark varieties of mud. Tans of the dry grasses. Graying shades of tree trunks and bare branches. Brown fence posts. Top them all off with the dullness of cloudy skies and the lifeless hues all combine to suck energy out of every breath.
This time of year we are happy to have the snow melt away but it comes with a visual cost until enough warmth and sunshine collaborate to launch the explosion of greenery we are longing to see again.
Alas, that is not fully living in the moment, is it? It’s April 1st today! No foolin’.
There are many treasures to be claimed in the current conditions, even if I find myself worn out by the same brown shades every single day that the sun is obscured from view.
The ever-changing status of the land as it weaves its way back and forth from winter’s hard freeze to fully thawed at every depth is like a carnival ride. In this indeterminate season the ground begins to thaw and then, nope, it’s frozen again and the air is warm, wait, no, it’s cold again, nope, bitter wind today, okay, tolerable this afternoon. It’s not too dry and not overly wet except that it is too dry in some places and a sloppy, muddy mess in others.
It’s enough to lead me toward a certain recliner where I can lounge and soak up the indoor shades of brown that like to snuggle.
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Yesterday was our annual geothermal furnace checkup and in its 9th year of service for us the numbers all read in the good or in one case, better than good. It will eventually switch from heating our home to cooling it during high heat periods of summer. Best decision we ever made, biting the bullet of high initial expense and replacing the 20-year-old original furnace in this house with the geothermal shortly after we arrived.
It’s funny that our seasons change every year, but right now I’m having difficulty remembering what that high heat of summer is like.
I do know that our world is a much deeper green when that happens. How come we never grow weary of those summertime hues?
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Gentle Reminder
This year’s initiation to snow cover came gently and during the weekend, causing minimal impact to our routine. We aren’t sure about the history of our horses’ experience with snow but there was no indication they were the least bit disturbed by the arrival of whiteness.
Their greater concern of late is the frequent report of rifles reverberating in the valley. In the days leading up to the actual 9-day deer hunting season, there are a lot more gunshots heard than the few bursts at dusk and dawn when the season is underway. My guess is early gunshots are a result of shooters aligning their scopes and firing their weapons in rehearsal for the real thing, based on a comment I heard from someone years ago.
Not being a hunter myself, I just rely on what others have told me.
After a single day, the snow is rapidly disappearing.
I’ll take that as a reminder that the transition of seasons doesn’t always happen in an instant. This year we have been spared one of those sudden blast storms with deep snow that ends up lasting the entire winter. I’m lookin’ at you, 1991 Halloween Blizzard.
Maybe I’m just getting old, but I’m perfectly okay with a gentle reminder when season-long snowfall is nigh.
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