~
Monday, November 30, 2009, 8:15 a.m.
34 degrees, breezy, cloudy, rain/snow
As I gaze out of my southern window, I see light
rain falling; when I was in
the yard a moment ago, I was caught in a small flutter of
snow flurries. Our house
must be the line of demarcation between the two forms of
precipitation this morning.
Often the change occurs right at our property line a bit
to the south, and I would expect
as the temperature drops today that snow will become as
common down the road as in our
yard. The real deal is in the forecast for tomorrow, but
this afternoon the sky may clear as the
cold front moves through. Yesterday there was quite a bit
of hunting activity in our neighborhood,
so our afternoon walk took us up the Gomer Hill Road; it
was cloudy but calm, a far cry from Sat-
urday’s biting gales. The horses up the road have
started to grow their shaggy winter coats, and cur-
rently look more like their primeval ancestors than the
beautiful sleek domestic steeds of summer.
I found some mustard flowers in the ditch, and picked
them to add to the last purple viola from the
border garden. I don’t mind winter, but I do miss
having fresh flowers in our home for those months.
I think that is why I keep geraniums in just about every
windowsill; they will bloom for most of the
winter as long as I slip a little plant food into the
water now and then. One year we had more ger-
aniums than space on the sills, so we stored a half dozen
in the cellar as an experiment. All but
one survived, looking a little insulted when we brought
them back up into the light, but reviv-
ing nicely after we put them on the sunporch and gave
them a good stiff drink. We are
considering heating our porch this winter, in which case
there will be plenty of room
for houseplants, maybe even a tray of edible greens or
two. Perhaps I will order
an extra packet of mixed lettuce when I put my seed order
in this year.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, November 29, 2009, 9:30 a.m.
38 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
This morning has started out cloudy, but the sky
is steadily growing brighter,
as if the clouds have somewhere else to go, but
can’t decide how to get there.
It is a gentle dispersal of milky film, not the frantic
scuttering of giant grey masses
that we had yesterday, accompanied by awesome winds that
blew the laundry right
off the line. Out in the open it was difficult to draw a
complete breath, but as soon as
we were in the shelter of trees it was a fine day to be
out and about. We got the biggest
chunks of recently acquired “free” firewood
split and stacked, the potato hiller put into its
new shed, and most of the tractors stored for winter. Our
dog enjoyed a leash-free romp
around the meadows, and was allowed as much time as
possible to sniff and dig, for soon
the good smells will be put away for several months as
well, buried under layers of snow
and ice. There is a lake effect storm in tomorrow
night’s forecast; we will either get it
or we won’t, but I want to make sure that our pup
goes into the long winter having
had his fill of carefree romping without ice between his
toes or being confined
to my ski tracks or the plowed road. Today will be a fine
one for hiking,
biking, and general cavorting in the great outdoors;
have fun !
Daisy
Saturday, November 28, 2009, 10:30 a.m.
39 degrees, windy, partly sunny
There is nothing as amazing as late November sun shining
through big heavy dark storm
clouds. The light is as pure as oxygen itself, and every
bare twig in the hedgerow shimmers
like ocean waves as the north wind puts everything in
motion. Fluffed-up goldenrod and asters
stubbornly hold onto their tiny troll-doll seedheads, and
provide a soft faerie understory to the
chaos the stiff wind is trying to impose; the scene is so
pleasing in its disarray that chaos is tech-
nically present but not a true description of the whole,
which is entirely delightful. In spite of
the chilly temperature and north wind, it is comfortable
out there if dressed for it. We will
take advantage of the lull in rain and snow this morning
to clean up some random
firewood chunks, and put away our farm and garden
equipment for the winter.
Tomorrow is supposed to be a fine day as well; get out
and enjoy the
end of the month, for true winter is just a stone’s
throw away.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, November 27, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
31 degrees, overcast, breezy, flurries
A gentle mosey of snow is beginning to stick to
the cold wet grass and garden dirt,
but not to the pavement. Yet. When we fell abed it was
raining softly, but the cold breeze
was permeated with the scent of snow, so this pretty
white stuff comes as no surprise. We
may see some accumulation here on Tug Hill; I wonder if
there is snow in the valley ? There
is fog at that level, so I can’t see the usual
landmarks along route 26. Yesterday was compar-
atively mild, and we took a long walk while the
Thanksgiving turkey cooked. We were going
to hike around the meadows that flank the Evans Road, but
we ran into a hunting party just set-
ting out in that same direction, so we took a right turn
onto Mill Creek Road and walked down
a steep hill to the stream. The footbridge that spans the
water has a broken timber; it is canted to
one side, but looked safe enough for crossing. The creek
was running deep and clear, in spite of
the fact the some locals use the gully farther up the cut
as a dumping site for household trash and
farm waste. We used to catch beautiful native brook trout
in this creek, but after seeing empty
chemical cleaner buckets and some pretty nasty garbage,
we haven’t fished there in years. Big
rocks on the banks are mossy green, and bright christmas
ferns lend a spot of chartreuse to
the dun brown and slaty grey of the November landscape.
We saw two deer that had fallen
(or been dumped) over the bank at the side of the road,
with not a mark on them except for a
spot of blood in one ear. Is it possible that two deer
were hit by a single vehicle? They looked
like fairly fresh kills; scavengers had not yet begun to
take advantage of the free meal. We had
a second walk after dinner, strolling around our meadows
as the sun sank out of sight.
Our day was close to perfect; I hope yours was too!
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Happy Thanksgiving
Wednesday, November 25, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
44 degrees, overcast, windy, light rain
The view is wet this morning, and getting wetter.
Rain began late in the afternoon,
just a few drips and drops here and there, and by bedtime
a steady trickle beat on
the tin roof, a familiar lullaby that never fails to lull.
Rain seems likely for much of the
day, so plans for a bike ride will be swapped for a good
walk. I don’t mind riding in
the rain, as long as it is warm outside; forty-four
degrees doesn’t qualify as warm, not
for a bike ride. If it were forty-four and sunny, and a
ski trip were planned, that would
be awesome! Wet and muddy on a bike at that temperature,
not so much fun. We had
a good walk around local meadowlands yesterday after
lunch, and came across a pile of
scat that I couldn’t identify. It looked like a cow
patty, but about one-quarter the size and
darker in color. Too big for a raccoon, unless it was a
gigantic raccoon who had just had
a big bowl of Fiber One. It was deposited on a well-worn
path, as both raccoons and
coyotes will do, but there is nothing about it that
suggests canine droppings at all; no
undigested particles of fur or seeds, a mystery. Maybe a
young bear, definitely not
from a deer. Last night on my way home from work I came
as close to hitting a
deer as I ever will, and feel lucky indeed to have
avoided totaling my car. I saw
two deer in the road fifty yards ahead of me, and slowed
to give them time to leave.
They just stood there (now I know where the term deer
in the headlights comes from)
and I stood on the brakes, stopping about two inches from
one of them, who hadn’t bud-
ged an inch. I honked, and they sauntered off into a
cornfield, absolutely unconcerned
about their brush with the Reaper. Thank goodness there
wasn’t another car behind me,
or coming from the other direction. Don’t let down
your guard for even a minute on these
dark nights; look for deer every inch of the way. If I
had been distracted, changing the
radio, having a drink of water, the story might not have
had such a happy ending.
Coincidentally, last night’s main course was venison.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Tuesday, November 24, 2009, 9:15 a.m.
43 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
A somewhat balmy moist breeze wafts up from the south,
carrying the sweet
scent of decaying leaves and old swamp mud to the Hill.
Yesterday morning’s
view was filled with blackbirds, and today there are only
a handful of crows
decorating the sky. Our cats are the only critters at
ground level, and they are
making the most of the fine weather to keep their hunting
skills sharp. Yesterday
we hiked to the gorge across the road, a hidden treasure
that many people would
be surprised to find so close to home. There are several
new blow-downs crossing
the forest path that leads to the deep cut; perhaps we
will head over there later with
chain saws to open up the trail, as it is a fine place to
play on cross-country skis and
off-road bikes. We scrambled and slid down the muddy
steep slope of the gulf, and
when we got to the bottom I was surprised to see that the
stone dam we had built a
few years ago was still holding back the creek waters to
form a small deep pool. We
added another layer of rocks and checked out a previous
dam site, which had mostly
washed away except for one of the outer walls which
showed how big that structure
had originally been. We have been messing around in that
creek for years, and it has
been interesting to see how the trails have changed with
erosion and deer traffic over
the years. There are still a couple of good ways to
descend into the chasm, as long as
there are saplings to grab to slow the momentum. Climbing
back up is best done like
some kind of shambling ape, grasping roots and keeping
the center of gravity low. It
really isn’t for the faint of heart; if you have a
fear of heights, best hike up the creek
from farther downstream where the walls are less sheer.
There are wonderful spots
like this hidden gorge all over Tug Hill; what surprised
lurk in your neck of the woods?
Don’t be afraid to explore !
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, November 23, 2009, 8:45 a.m.
33 degrees, windy, cloudy
Our yard is full of blackbirds on this grey morn,
singing their hearts out,
moving from tree to tree and occasionally lighting on the
lawn to poke around
in the frosty grass. There are whistles, warbles,
chuckles, snips and snaps filling the
air around our house, and I can’t seem to stop
grinning. One of the most joyful noises
on the planet is the melodious chatter of birds, whether
they are in full mating voice or
merely asking each other hey, where did all that corn
go? Yesterday the cornfield
across from our west meadow was filled with big tractors
and automated pickers,
and now the stalks lie bent and broken, a huge golden mat
protecting the soil
against eventual winter gales. The blackbirds are in the
east meadow now,
eating bugs and little seeds and all manner of whatnot,
gliding en masse
in between morsels, swirling and wheeling around for a
good long
minute before landing a few feet away. I could watch them
all
day; it would be lovely if they would hang out that long.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, November 22, 2009, 10:00 a.m.
40 degrees, breezy, overcast
I had been expecting two sunny days in a row, but the sun
has been mighty scarce.
I hung out laundry yesterday morning and it seems just as
wet as when I first pegged it up.
I suppose it won’t kill me to use the dryer if
necessary; I already have some of the larger items
spread over a rod suspended by the big wood stove. The
chilly breeze is from the south, and
loaded with dampness. Earlier, a loud claxon of geese
caught my attention, and although they
sounded very near they were indeed over the Black River
several miles away, hundreds of
them, their voices carried on the breeze. The only
trouble was, they were all headed north.
Duh. Perhaps they were confused by the south wind; our
prevailing winds are generally
from the west. They knew they should follow the river, we
must give them points for
that. A grand gathering of redwing blackbirds lit on the
power lines after the geese
got out of range, hundreds of those as well, stretching
from the corner all the way to
Horsie Creek. When they took off, they only flew as far
as the cornfield catawampus
from our barn. It will be a miracle if there are any
kernels left on the cobs by the time
the farmer brings his harvester up, so many birds and
beasts have visited it during the
past month or so. He had better be quick, or he will be
picking corn in the snow.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, November 21, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
40 degrees, calm, overcast, fog, misty rain
I am not sure whether the air is filled with big
fog particles or tiny raindrops,
but it is wet out there. I was out for a short stroll
with the dog, and my unbound
hair quickly became bedraggled with moisture. There is no
wind (so far) so the overall
effect is refreshing rather than daunting. We had enough
wind yesterday to last through the
weekend; I feared the car door would be blown off the
hinges when I arrived home at midday.
The sky was ripe with spectacular huge clouds against a
field of deep blue, shifting shape and
direction with a crazy continuous flow like a celestial
vinyasa yoga class gone amok. There has
been a steady procession of trucks moving up the road
since before dawn, presumably hunters
on their way to a day of stalking deer and bear. Any
hiking I do today will be out in the open;
all of the safety orange outerwear in the world
doesn’t make a difference if the hunter never
sees me; those high-speed rifle loads travel over a mile.
We have had stray shots hit the
barn or bury themselves in the driveway before, so it is
best to keep a low profile
this time of year, especially on the weekends. There is
much to do indoors
anyway, to prepare for holiday guests, the drudgery of
housework temper-
ed by the excitement of welcoming friends and family into
our home.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Friday, November 20, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
40 degrees, windy, cloudy
After a night of hard rain showers, the clouds
seem to be thinning a bit;
I can see exactly where the sun is behind the veil, so
the sky is fairly bright
for such a cloudy morn. It is not currently raining,
although the air itself is very
damp from last night’s soak. We took the dog for a
freestyle romp around all of
our meadows yesterday, following him as he sniffed at
every little thing. He ignored
the more obvious lures of raccoon scat and mounds of wet
dirt from some burrowing
critter, and went crackerdog several times over some
invisible mark in the soft grass; one
time he apparently tried to dig his way to the other side
of the globe. I let him dig for about
ten minutes, and he made a good sized hole for such a
little guy, but I could see no rhyme or
reason for the effort, and he came away with bubkes and a
snootful of mud to boot. We return-
ed to the house via the bean patch, and I found about
thirty fat purple scarlet runner beans that I
had missed last week, so I tucked them into my pocket to
toss into the next batch of soup. There
is still quite a bit of curly parsley in a nearby row,
but it got sprinkled with horse manure, so I will
leave it there to go to seed next summer. I picked what
may be the very last pansies and violas
from the perennial bed, along with some myrtle greens and
a couple of yellow mustard blos-
soms. A friend who lives in town has dozens of purple
myrtle flowers tucked among the
dark shiny green foliage, a late season gift from Mom
Nature. I keep my eyes peeled
for little surprises like that every time I take a walk,
but they have become few and
far between as the temperature has become consistently
more frigid at night.
Have a surprisingly great day,
Daisy
Thursday, November 19, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
46 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
A fine warm day is well underway, very welcome
indeed.
Yesterday we rode our bikes around the long block, a
little
better than twelve miles with plenty of woodlands, beaver
ponds,
streams, and old farm meadows to occupy our attention.
The roads
were fairly wet from Saturday’s rainfall, giving us
some gooey thrills as
we sped through the mud; in many places frost still lay
thick in shady spots
at the edge of the road. Ponds were mostly frozen at the
edges; we stopped
to lob some stones onto the ice, and finally got one
softball sized one to break
through by tossing it high into the air to pick up speed
on the way down. We
stopped at the cellar hole of an abandoned house that
burned over the weekend,
and saw very few artifacts left after the blaze. On one
long stretch of road we were
startled by several loud rifle shots, and started to
yodel and sing loudly, to alert who-
ever was in the woods that there were humans in the area.
A few of the hunting camps
had trucks parked in the yards, but we saw no other
critters, human or otherwise, during
the whole ride. We arrived home just before sunset; I
don’t care to cut rides that close this
time of year, when along with the daylight the sun’s
warmth also flees the scene rather quickly.
My pack had an extra fleece top and a warm headband that
fits under my helmet, but I had
neglected to include a headlamp; I won’t make that
mistake again. Today looks like a great
day for another adventure, but there are many chores to
complete before we head back
out for fun. However, all work and no play makes Daisy
a dull gal,
so maybe I’ll start the day with a hike and clean
the floors later.
Have some fun today,
and every day !
Daisy
Wednesday, November 18, 2009, 7:00 a.m.
31 degrees, breezy, sunny
The sun has just risen into a beautiful tangerine
sky, and soon I will have
to drop my curtain or be dazzled. A trio of deer is
ambling up the road, right
up the middle of the pavement, not looking for forage but
just taking a stroll. The
spring fawns are almost as tall as their mom, but still
very slender and lithe. They
really need to get busy and eat if they want to make it
through the long winter months.
It has been a long time since I have seen a buck on our
property, and that one was just
a spikehorn. Does, fawns, and yearlings are all over the
place, and every time I drive home
after dark it is like buying a lottery ticket for a car
wreck. A huge flock of starlings gathered
in the trees by the springbox late yesterday afternoon,
and roosted there overnight. At dawn
they took off, swooping in a vast group, flying in unison
so close together that at times they
seemed to be a solid mass of black. I saw another flock
on the way to Boonville, just settling
in on the high wires, stretched out for almost a mile.
The sun was very low in the sky and each
bird seemed more silvery than black, especially when they
spread their wings to resettle. A lone
goose has been circling the neighborhood every morning
for a couple of weeks, perhaps search-
ing for a lost mate. I didn’t see it yet today, so
perhaps it has moved on. It looks like a beauti-
ful day is warming up in the bullpen; best get busy so I
can have some time to play later.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Tuesday, November 17, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
27 degrees, calm, sunny
This is as cold as it has been so far this autumn,
and thick frost is everywhere,
like powdered sugar on cake. Our sky is clear and blue,
but the valley-dwellers
must be snuggled under fog, especially along the river.
We walked for ten minutes
at 1 a.m. and saw four meteors, small ones, nothing to
make me gasp in awe. I slept
beside a window so I could keep watch, and saw two more
before falling asleep. At
4:30 Gomer woke me to report that he thought it was more
of a meteor sponge bath,
and did I want to get up anyway to see if things picked
up towards dawn? I pulled the
quilt up over my head as an answer. He said he would let
me know if he saw any more,
but soon he gave it up too and returned to bed. Perhaps
this evening we can catch the
B-team as we pass through the backwash of meteor activity.
It is a beautiful morning,
calm and sunny, so the chill doesn’t penetrate all
the way to the bone. Yet. We heard
a few shots just after sunrise; maybe some lucky hunter
has taken one of the deer
that ate our broccoli. I wonder if all that broccoli
would make the meat taste
funny, like wild duck tastes fishy. When I see a flock of
wild turkeys picking
through freshly spread cow manure, I wonder what they
will taste like? Ugh.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, November 16, 2009, 8:45 a.m.
34 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
It is a beautiful morning, with November written
all over it in both
temperature and quality of light. The sun is bright but
silvery-hard, not
shining with buttercup-gold as in warmer months. If it
warms up a bit I may
take another bike ride; this time of year is wonderful on
a bike, with no need to
keep my mouth shut against hitting deerflies at high
speed. In fact, this time of year,
after bugs and before snow, is perfect for just about any
fun outdoors. Even our night-
time strolls have been pleasant, although we need to
bundle up and wear actual shoes
instead of sandals. The annual Leonid meteor shower will
be at its peak early tomorrow
morning. I have seen a few shooting stars the past couple
of nights, but around 4:00 this
morning the show should be a good one. The fact that the
moon is new and the weather is
expected to be clear in our neck of the woods (although
very cold, 20 with a north wind)
will make the viewing extra good. If you are not an early
riser, you can still get a good
dose of shooters if you take a stroll before bedtime
tonight, there should be several
stragglers flying about as a preview to the main event.
Visit space.com
for details.
One way to get a good look at meteor showers in cold
weather is to
watch from my car, with the sunroof open and the heated
seat on,
and a cup of Abuelita hot chocolate close to hand.
Have a great day,
and starry night,
Daisy
Saturday, November 14, 2009, 6:15 a.m.
46 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
A tiny sliver of moon hangs just outside my window,
framed by slaty
clouds in a brightening morning sky. Sunrise is still
over a half hour away,
but there is enough light to see two deer in the garden,
gobbling up the last
of the parsley. A dozen or more trucks have gone by, no
doubt hunters on
their way to seasonal camps for the weekend. Yesterday
was a beautiful day,
and we rode bikes up to the big beaver pond on the
Plummer Road. As sunny
and nice a day as it was, there was still about a half
inch of ice on the shady parts
of the water. We fished a beaver-chewed stick out of the
pond by the culvert, the
shiny golden wood clearly showing tooth marks from the
critter’s gnawing. The level
of the water is high, reflecting the frequent rainfalls
of last summer. Riding conditions
were very good, not too much mud and a minimum of whoop-de-dos,
just enough to
make the outing fun. There was little wind, and no
insects to bug us, all in all a per-
fect ride. As we returned to the house, the setting sun
cast our shadows twenty
feet tall before us on the dirt road. We skewed our legs
to the sides as we
pedaled, and looked like a couple of tall skinny frogs on
bikes, and
laughed like crazy women the rest of the way home. What
fun !
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Friday, November 13, 2009, 8:00 a.m.
38 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Clouds stripe the southern sky but the sun has
risen above them
and warms the morning nicely. Most of autumn’s
bright hues have
faded to brown and now a prominent feature along the
roadsides is
the bare stems of red-twig dogwood (Cornus sericea/stolonifera),
the rosy hue of which deepens as winter approaches. This
is a native
plant, but many different cultivars are available at
nurseries. It grows well
under just about any condition of soil or moisture, and
is found all over the
North Country. Other bright spots of color are strewn
about the meadows,
shiny red strawberry leaves and royal purple young canary
grass in its second
growth spurt after mowing the hay in August. Even the sky
is pale in comparison
to the deep cerulean of summer. It won’t be long
before we have a black-and-white
view, punctuated now and then by bluejays or pine
grosbeaks, welcome not only for
their companionship but for the touches of color they
lend to the daily view. I have a
small bouquet of pansies and violas on the windowsill,
possibly the last little nosegay
I will be able to gather during this calendar year. I
also clipped several dried ostrich
fern plumes to display in a blue glass bottle, making
note of where they grew so I
can harvest some fiddleheads from that area next spring.
The continuity of seasons
is assured by these simple acts, from apple blossom to
ripe fruit, fiddlehead to
dried frond, first crispy cattail shoots to sausagey
seedheads releasing the
fluff found in mouse nests in bluebird houses; it all
just goes ‘round and
‘round, year to year, the cycles of life. All seems
the same as our
own mortal selves grow older, timeless in the face of
time.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Thursday, November 12, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
33 degrees, calm, partly cloudy
The sky is divided almost exactly in half by a
line of shiny white
clouds to the south, and all I can see north of our house
is blue as can be.
Because the sun is under the cloudy half, frost is taking
its sweet time dissolving
from the scene. The temperature was barely below freezing
last night, but the dew
point must have been just perfect for forming a thick
rime that bedecks even the clothes-
lines. The valley meadows appear to be covered with snow,
they are that white. There is no
breeze this morning, and it is very pleasant outside. We
walked last night under a broad dome
of brilliant stars; moonrise was after midnight, and the
sky was the perfect inky backdrop for a
wonderful display of even the tiniest twinkle. I saw no
meteors, even though I was alert for them,
but the milky way glowed like a flashlight beam through
the black. We didn’t wander too far from
home, as the dog kept staring in the direction of our
woodlot; it may have been just a raccoon or
porcupine that attracted his attention, but in the event
that something larger was on the prowl, we
cut our walk short. Today I will make one final foray
into the scarlet runner trellis; I think the dry
pods have been picked pretty clean, but I need to make
sure before pulling out the stakes for
winter. I harvested eight small heads of broccoli from
the late planting, tightly budded and
slightly bitter, but with a grating of sharp cheese they
weren’t bad with our beef and potatoes.
I guess our garden harvest will be officially over after
I declare the beans all done. It was an odd
growing season, even for the North Country. We fared much
better than some, avoiding the blight
that swept the country, and stocking the cellar with
enough veggies to last until spring. Mother
Nature is but one aspect of the Powers-That-Be, and like
any Mom, I suppose she only wants
what is best for her family, but we need to be vigilant
and obedient children; thanks, Mom !
Have a grateful day,
Daisy
Wednesday, November 11, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
35 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Last night’s frost is nearly gone from sun-drenched
places but still coats
the vehicles, which are parked in the shade. A light
breeze from the north
barely balances out the sun’s warmth, and at times
this morning I could feel
Old Man Winter looking over my shoulder. Enjoy those
pansies, they won’t
be here much longer he whispered. We have been having
some excellent walks
during this extended spell of fine weather, drinking in
all the sights, sounds, and smells
that November has to offer. Many years we are already
under a foot or more of snow
by now, so we count every day that we can venture out in
summer footgear as a gift. This
long autumn is allowing the wild things to pack on a few
extra pounds as well, so that they
can have some fat reserves for the lean times in the dead
of winter. I think humans feel the
culinary shift to winter as well, and crave more calorie-dense
comfort foods: macaroni and
cheese, rich thick stews, meat and potatoes and maybe
even gravy, with fewer green salads
and thin soups. Even though most of us are fortunate
enough to have a variety of foods
available 365 days a year, there seems to be a season for
certain things: apple
crisp, for example, made with local fresh fruit and
perfect for breakfast
on a chilly November morn, drizzled with vanilla yogurt,
yum !
That strikes me as just about perfect.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Tuesday, November 10, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
44 degrees, breezy, hazy sunshine
Faint shadows are cast from a dim sun, as there are many
thin clouds
between the earth and sky this morning. It is as if fog
has lifted beyond our reach,
yet tempers the sun’s warmth and illumination
through a thin-stretched etheric filter which
softens every aspect of the morning view.
Yesterday’s summery south wind that brought us
a near record high temp of sixty-six has shifted 180
degrees and now streams directly from the
north, yet is not as nippy as one would expect for
November. A few small flocks of geese have
passed overhead this morning, stragglers waiting until
the last minute to leave their summer homes.
Our human friends usually wait until after Thanksgiving
to head to their Florida properties, although
I can’t imagine why anyone would prefer Florida to
the North Country for Christmas and New Year’s;
snow is a part of the celebration, in my book anyway. I
think that every part of winter is delightful, but if
I were compelled to leave for a month or two, it would be
hard to choose the right time. As previously
mentioned, it would not be the holidays anywhere but here,
but would I want to give up the wild and
wooly blizzards of January, or the delights of spring
skiing in February and March as the days grow
longer ? April can be sticky with mud, but if I were not
here I would surely miss the return of the
first robin and the bluebirds as they looked for nesting
sites. I would not be able to start tomato
plants on the sunporch, or poke around looking for the
first little wildflowers of the season.
As for today, I anticipate the winter yet to come with
joy and wonder, and enjoy the
small delights that November offers, the surprising bloom
of rogue mustard plants or
dandelions’ last ditch glory, and the wonderful
scents of woodsmoke, apples,
crumbly leaves, and wild mushrooms that are borne on the
breeze.
Have a wonder-full day,
Daisy
Monday, November 9, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
51 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
A balmy south wind only adds to the indian summery
feel of this beautiful morning.
The sun is warm and the temperature is rising, having
dropped only into the mid forties
last night. We walked yesterday afternoon, sticking to
the main road as it is still deer season,
and there was plenty of traffic as people left The Hill
to return to their full-time homes. There
is a veritable explosion of dandelion blossoms along the
berms, and an occasional unfolding
red clover adds a spot of magenta to the sunny yellow
blooms and fading green of winter
grasses. Redwing blackbirds roosted in the trees by the
cornfield, chattering noisily to each
other, raising a heck of a ruckus. Four ravens circled
the field, swiveling their heads back and
forth as they coursed, mumbling loudly among themselves,
clearly looking for something and not
finding it. It was odd behavior, even for ravens. The
wind shifted from the west to the south, car-
rying the scent of crumbled leaves and a hint of apples
and old moss. We went for a short stroll
just before midnight; I was overdressed in a winter parka
and fleece hat. I removed the hat after
a few minutes and released my hair from its brass
barrette, letting the breeze lift the unbound
locks in all directions. The moon was just about at half-glow,
and the stars were bright after
I left the circle of light cast from the barn fixture. I
saw one huge meteor streak from north
to south, cutting Orion neatly in half. We are still more
than a week away from the annual
Leonid meteor shower, so this was an unrelated random
shooting star, the only one I saw
last night. Starshine and moonglow accompanied me to bed,
and my dreams were sweet.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Sunday, November 8, 2009, 10:30 a.m.
55 degrees, breezy, sunny
What a lovely morning ! There are so many little fluffy
insects on
the wing that it almost appears as if it is snowing. One
step out the
door, however, and the breeze is warm, the sun nearly hot,
so we are
assured that there is little chance of cold white stuff
showing up. The few
remaining pockets of snow leftover from Thursday
night’s storm are disap-
pearing quickly, and will soon be only a memory. Laundry
flutters on the line,
finally drying after nearly twenty-four hours. Yesterday
was awesome, but not
nearly as warm as today. I believe I will shut down the
computer, lace up
my walking shoes, and take off up the road to see what I
can see.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Saturday, November 7, 2009, 6:45 a.m.
28 degrees, calm, partly sunny
The sun is slowly rising from behind the mountains,
and will soon disappear into a layer of clouds. Right now,
however, the combination is very pretty, with the
undersides of
the clouds glowing like a huge neon sign. A thin coating
of ice on the
poplar twigs, forsythia leaves, and bean vines gleams
like copper, as do
the power lines at the sides of the road. There are two
deer across the road
looking for greens under the snow, an done has not yet
risen to its feet; I wonder
if it is injured, or just sleeping in. It picks its head
up from time to time, looks around,
and then rests for a bit. I don’t see any antlers, I
wonder what’s up. If it is still there in
an hour, I’ll go investigate. Today is supposed to
be warmer than yesterday, and mostly
sunny, which bodes well for the monstrous amount of
laundry that has accumulated since
the washing machine broke. Now it has a brand new pulley,
and I am looking forward to
hanging everything out to dry. I enjoy doing laundry, as
it has a beginning and an end. Sure,
we are always getting our stuff grubby again, but when
the hamper is empty and everything
is folded and smelling like fresh air, that signals a job
well done.The deer has risen,
and is moving slowly across the meadow to join its friend,
so it must be okay.
On with the day !
Daisy
Friday, November 6, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
29 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
It snowed enough yesterday to cover the ground and stick
to the trees a bit,
but unfortunately not enough to slide my skis upon. The
drive home from Boonville
after dark was blind, with fat flakes streaming bright
and hypnotic towards the windshield
in the glare of my headlights. I drove slowly, and saw
few other motorists; fortunately, everyone
was cautious, equally impaired by the storm. The snow
didn’t stick to the road, so I could follow
the white line all the way to Turin. Of course, as soon
as I began the climb up Gomer Hill, the change
in altitude meant significantly more snow, and the road
was completely white. I was happy to finally
arrive home, where I could watch the snow from the warmth
and safety of our kitchen. The sun has
popped out a few times this morning, but for the most
part it is a pretty black-and-white view out there,
complete with slate-colored juncos to fit the
monochromatic color scheme. The road has been cleared
somewhat by traffic on their way to work, and I believe
that our little taste of winter is over... for now.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Thursday, November 5, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
28 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
November’s hard edged beauty has been
softened by a thick layer of
frost, rounding the stark contours of straight tall tree
trunks and bare branches.
Thin mist hangs low in graceful layers over the entire
valley, enhancing rather than
obscuring the dips and hillocks of the morning view.
Despite such a beautiful and serene
beginning, the day holds a promise of snow showers
developing later, with some accumulation
possible overnight. This could be the real deal, so be
prepared. It will be short lived, with a return
to chilly sunshine lasting well into next week. The town
road crew was on the Hill the other day mark-
ing the culverts and ditches with saplings, each one
topped by a piece of reflective tape. When we drove
home from the library after dark last night, it looked
like dozens of stars had dipped close to Earth as the
tape twinkled our headlights back at us. The cold weather
has caused critters to seek indoor shelter for
winter, and woe to the rodent that tries to get comfy in
a home with three cats and a ratdog. Thank
goodness our pets don’t feel the need to eat the
indoor prey, and it is relatively easy to dispose of
the mice and voles we find proudly displayed on the
kitchen tiles. Many insects have found their way
indoors as well, and a quick search of windowsills almost
always turns up several sluggish flies or may-
be even a wasp or two. Now that our barn holds several
bales of mulch hay and dry straw, we may
have a feral cat (best case) or raccoon (worst case)
overwinter in the stack. It is the natural tenden-
cy for all critters to tuck in when the weather gets
fierce, whether in a snug den under uprooted tree
roots, a tree cavity, or a manmade dwelling. We try to be
selective, providing food and warm
places to sleep for our pets and our two-legged friends
who visit from time to time. Our
welcome mat is snatched from the doorway at the first
sound of scrabbling in the walls
or coon tracks disappearing under the barn, however; our
home is no Disney cartoon.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Wednesday, November 4, 2009, 9:00 a.m.
32 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Yesterday’s snowbirds were spot on the money,
as we had a ten minute
blast of rather heavy snow mid-afternoon. I was just
leaving for work, and
I needed to run the windshield wipers full force to clear
a space to see the road
until I got to the bottom of the Hill, when the snow
changed over to rain. There are
still some pockets of snow scattered around the property
up here; looks like it is time
to switch the tires over for winter travel. The clouds
parted to let the waning full moon
shine last night; the whole Hill was illuminated by
moonbeams, holding sleep hostage
and filling such dreams as eventually came with strange
and wonderful images. It is
always amazing to awaken each morning refreshed and
rested, even after dreaming
of adventures fraught with excitement and danger,
impossible situations and fascinating
characters. How is that possible? I count myself lucky to
be among the population that
experiences vivid dreams on a regular basis; it’s
like having a lifetime free pass to the
theater. It is still very cold outside this morning, with
a pretty stiff northwest breeze. I
have already seen several flocks of geese heading south,
after a break of several weeks
seeing none at all. I would imagine that most of the open
water of smaller lakes and ponds
to the north of here is skimmed over with ice for the
winter, and now the birds are being
forced from their summer home. Starlings have been the
predominant species in the skies
over the North Country, filling tall trees and perched
along the high wires between here
and Boonville by the hundreds. They have been feeding on
scattered grains of corn
leftover after the stalks have been chopped or picked,
growing fat as they store
energy for their flight south. Most starlings in our area
don’t travel too far,
preferring anywhere south of the 40th parallel. My guess
is that they stop
around Philly and glean the tasty bits left on
cheesesteak wrappers
thoughtlessly discarded by folks dining alfresco.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
Tuesday, November 3, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
43 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
We just startled a large flock of starlings from the
front yard trees,
and they lifted off in unison with a silent swoop to land
in the meadow
across the road. Sometimes a few of these friendly birds
stick around all
winter; I hope that is the case this year. The only spot
of color outside the
window this morning is the forsythia hedge, which is
covered with deep gold,
bronze, and burgundy leaves. On a cloudy day like this it
is merely pretty; when
the sun shines on it the burnished leaves shimmer like
precious teardrop-cut jewels.
A few slate-colored juncos have stopped by to peck at the
lawn, snowbirds who
often signal a change in the weather. Indeed, any
precipitation we see today
may very well turn to snow as night falls. Ready or not,
here it comes !
Have a great day,
Daisy
Monday, November 2, 2009, 7:30 a.m.
34 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
An overnight low of 27 degrees has left a thick
coat of frost everywhere I look
on this chilly morning. There is no wind for a change,
and the truck traffic, ATV
rumbles, and rifle shots of the weekend are as absent as
the breeze. A neighbor
who was sitting in a treestand at the edge of the Evans
Road cornfield told us he
had seen a female bear and three cubs last week, so when
we walked yesterday
afternoon we avoided that area. The trees along the road
were filled with hundreds
of redwing blackbirds in full song; it was odd to hear
the merry kan-ka-reeee of spring
on the first day of November. We also heard plenty of
turkeys, but as the corn has not yet
been picked in our neighborhood we couldn’t see them.
The view of the Adirondacks was
as good as it ever gets, and although the west wind had a
bit to it, our walk was very pleasant
indeed. Sunset was one of the best of the year, as if a
reward for giving up that extra hour of day-
light that we lost when we changed our clocks. I actually
prefer having the sun in the mornings at
this time of year; otherwise it feels like we are arising
in the middle of the night. I wonder why
Daylight Savings Time shifted to last until November ?
Whose bright idea was that ? I am
happy to once again have brighter mornings; by late
afternoon this time of year, I am
ready to come inside and tend to dinner. We enjoyed a
brief sojourn under an
almost-full moon, admiring bright sliver ripples of
clouds arranged in rays
stretching across the dome exactly over our house.
Have a great day,
Daisy
Sunday, November 1, 2009, 8:30 a.m.
42 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
There is certainly plenty of sunshine on this
chilly November morning, but
the big story is the mass of shifting cloud cover, that
moves steadily from west
to east, so we can’t rely on the sun to warm us for
more than a few moments at a
time. yesterday was very windy and rainy, but on the warm
side, so it wasn’t too bad
a day to be out and about. The dog didn’t enjoy the
bluster at all, and when the wind
shifted from the warm south to the much colder northwest
I came indoors for good.
Rain stopped in the evening, and a near-full moon rose
well before the sun went
down. The Beaver moon will be full tomorrow night, but
will appear to be so
tonight as well. It will be a cold clear night, and if
you bundle up it would
be a good night to take a stroll before snow flies later
this week.
Have a great day,
Daisy
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