Frosty Morning

The days are getting colder. We had another hard frost last nite.

I'll probably mow the grass this weekend. It will be the last mowing for the year.

First Frost

We had our first hard frost of the season over the weekend.

The knotweed is done for the year, but so are the four o'clocks and my lone trillium. C'est la vie. . .

Pumpkin Coffee Morning

The dry summer has turned to a wet autumn.  It seems we have rain every weekend.  This morning is no exception.  Time to brew some pumpkin coffee and enjoy the soft rain.

I put on the 'Bean boots' and took a walk around the property.

All is wet and quiet . . .

The leaves are dropping more quickly now . . .

I like the sound of the leaves crunching under my boots as I walk around . . .

The compost bins are full.

I could just sit back and let the day flow by.  Alas, we have auction to go to, a book sale, and other fun stuff.  No sitting around today!

Enjoy the day!

Leaf Farmer

The maples are at peak and are dropping leaves in droves.

I am a leaf farmer.  I rake the leaves and put them into our compost bins.

Last year's compost is dark and rich.  Soon the last of it will be spread onto the garden beds.

The winds are predominantly from the north.  Our days barely hit 70 degF now, and we have to run the pellet stove to take the chill out of the house as we rise in the morning.

I hear the call of waterfowl.  Migrating mallards were down in the river today.

The scenery changes fast now.  I wonder what tomorrow will be like . . . 

Marvelous Maple Morning

The big maple in front of the house and the one by the barn are deep in their autumn colors.

A nice way to greet the morning!

First Day of Fall

Yesterday as I was driving home from work, I noticed the sumac were turning red.  Not just an isolated branch, but whole trees. This is my sign that fall is here (let's call it meteorological fall).

Today is the autumnal equinox - astronomical fall!

It's funny how we assign names and significance to such transient concepts as the first day of autumn, the new year, a birthday.  It must be one of those things that make us human.  We think about our future.  We stop to assess where we are and how we are doing.  We are thinking beings, but maybe its is better said that we are planners...

Time to start raking the leaves and put them in the compost bin for next fall's garden.  Time to finish canning, time to turn the garden beds over.  Time to collect seeds for next year.  Time to get the house and barn ready for winter.

The cycle continues...

November

The still of winter is not far away.

The varmints are busy getting food . . .

The morning frost has finally knocked back the knotweed for the season . . .

The raking is done.  The compost bins are full . . .

I installed snow guards on the new roof.

I hope they will stop all the snow from collecting on the porch roof!

I got a new snowblower.  I call it an early Christmas gift.

The snow geese are about.  Winter is soon to come.

No Snow,
No Sun,
No Color,
November!

November

We went back to standard time last Sunday.  The sun appears to rise 1 hour earlier, but it sets 1 hour sooner.  As the days get shorter, I'll be going to work in the dark soon.

When I left for work this morning (about 7:15 AM), the sun was up.  As I made my way to work, I could see that the world seemed to have turned brown.  The leaves were off the trees, the plants were all brown.  The stands of goldenrod stood beaten down - their golden tops withered and tan.

When I left work at 6:00 tonight, it was dark, cold and rainy.  What a depressing feeling.  A long day at work, cold, wet weather, poor visibility for my commute home.  What an unpleasant evening.  It was good to get home and see that my wife put the porch light on for me.

This is one of my least favorite times of year.  We haven't hit the holiday season.  There is no snow to enjoy (yes my southern readers - some of us actually like the snow!).  It is dark when I get home, so I can't get a ride on my bike.  The world is shutting down, getting ready for the coming winter.

Like I always say:

No Sun,

No Snow,

No Color,

November!

What do you think?

Wooly Bear Forecasting

You have heard the rule that you can predict the severity of the winter by looking at the amount of black coloring on the wooly bear caterpillar.  The rule is that the more black, the colder the winter.

Judging by the caterpillar I saw today, it looks like a warm winter.  We did have a warm summer and a rather mild fall.  Last year we had an appreciable snowfall on October 16th.  This year, we have had nothing.

What do you think?  What are your wooly bear caterpillars doing?

Catching Up!

It's been a while since I posted anything. Fall has been a busy time.  We went to Gettysburg last weekend.  We enjoy visiting the battlefields and taking in the history.

We escaped the heavy rains.  There was localized flooding.  The river was up quite a bit.  The creek finally had water in it.  The heavy rains knocked a lot of the leaves from the trees.

Yesterday, I raked the yard, filled the compost bins, and mowed the yard.  Most of the leaves are off the trees in our yard.  I expect all the leaves will be down in a few more weeks.

We had our first hard frost this morning.  It has hit the knotweed pretty hard.

Frost on the Deck Chairs

The day is beautiful.  Sunny, light winds, temperatures around 70 degF.  Enjoy!

Creek in Fall

Autumn Leaves on Spook Hill

Fall has Come

Though the fall equinox came earlier this week, I always said fall starts when the sumac turns red. . .

. . . and it has!

The  leaves are starting to change.  The maples are already changing.  The maple by the barn is near peak.  I've already started to rake leaves and put them in the compost pile.  The temperatures are steadily falling.  We'll see frosts in a few week.

I finished the puffin decoy.  Overall, I am pretty happy with it.  The hardest part was the bill.  I need to give it a coat of wax or a coat of epoxy.  On to the next project!

Puffin Decoy Before

Puffin Decoy After

Wonder

wonder [ˈwʌndə]

n

1. the feeling excited by something strange; a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and sometimes awe

2. something that causes such a feeling, such as a miracle

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Yesterday was an exciting day. My nephew and his beautiful wife had their first child. We went to see them and the new one in the family. One of these days Great-Uncle Tractor will have another little one to drive around the yard.

A cold front was pushing in, and we drove through scattered rain. As we crested one hill and an opening in the clouds revealed a piece of a rainbow. As it was a grey and dark day, the bit of color was quite unexpected. As we drove back home past the northern end of Seneca Lake, we drove by stately homes and vineyards. One stretch of the road was lined with maples. They were all yellow. The cold front brought strong winds, and the ground was covered in yellow leaves. It was a beautiful sight. As we drove further, we came across one vineyard whose vines were a deep red. I had never thought about the leaves of grapes changing colors like the other leaves during the fall. As we neared our house, we encountered another rainbow.

It amazed me we can experience wonder. Each of these scenes is readily explainable and a logical progression of the conditions. Of course you see rainbow when weather fronts collide, yellow-leafed trees will drop yellow leaves, the leaves of deciduous plants change color in the autumn. Still, we find wonder and awe in such occurences.

Of course the greatest source of wonder was the new baby. I watched my sister at her amazement of her grandson. I thought about the birth of my granddaughter and remembered how I felt. Right now there are now 6 billion people on this world, yet the addition of a single little one is still a wonder!

I hope we all find something wonderful each day of our lives.

Holdout

It seems there is always 1 tree in the yard that holds onto its leaves much longer than the others. We have a pair of small maples by the trellis. As in other years, the larger of them was the last tree in the yard to change colors. It was a brilliant red and orange color. Its time was up. Yesterday was a dark and windy day, and the majority of the leaves finally fell. I raked them up, and finished filling the compost bins. Now, the raking is officially done. I then mowed the grass one more time. I'll be taking the mowing deck off soon and getting the plow blade on the tractor in a few weeks.

Brrrrrr. . .

We had our first hard freeze last night. I had already started to get things ready for the cold. Besides the odd jobs I did yesterday, I also did some last minute fix-it jobs, painting, etc., this weekend before it got too cold. Seems like there is always a last-minute painting task to do before it gets too cold.

We ran the stove all night. It was around 26 degF this morning. The pellet stove is in the living room. Because we close our bedroom door at night, our room gets pretty cold (about 60 degF). The bedspread seemed to collect on my wife's side of the bed, so I was a little cold this morning.

I hope the cold knocked back the knotweed. It was getting dark and rainy when I came home from work tonight, so I did not go down to the creek to check on it.

It was pretty driving into work. The leaves are near peak, and the frost gave everything a nice shine. I love this time of year. It is invigorating. I'll have to make some time this weekend for a walk in the woods before the leaves are all off the trees.

Getting Ready . . .

Let's see . . .

• I got up this morning,
• turned up the pellet stove (it's getting cold outside).
• checked my email (I held off reading the news online as I wanted to read a real paper),
• made coffee and ate breakfast,
• got a phone call from my daughter and grand-daughter (my grand-daughter said 'She loves Papa'),
• went out and bought the New York Times (one of the only good papers left to read),
• drained the garden hoses,
• put all the stuff on the deck (chairs, last of the annuals, etc.) in the shed (i.e., converted chicken coop) (yes - I'll do a story on the coop soon) (and yes, winter is coming soon),
• cut an old lock off the door to the dairy shed entrance to the barn (yes, we have not been able to open this door for 3.5 years!) (I needed to open this entrance if I use the dairy shed for my workshop),
• trimmed some grass (I mowed the front yard yesterday - decided to trim around he fences, but skipped mowing behind the barn until next weekend),
• only rowed 5K meters (yeah, I am a slacker - but I did do 20K meters yesterday),
• took the air conditioners out (we definitely won't be needing them),
• did some prep work for dinner tonite,
• made a drink and started to read the Times,
• made dinner (chicken cordon bleu, risotto, and red cabbage (kinda crazy mix, but went well),
• ate dinner,
• continued reading the Times,
• and watched some TV (yes - PBS)!

It was a cool, but beautiful day. I started to rake leaves yesterday. I am already thinking about getting ready for winter.

It was a good day. I was busy, but had some time to think and relax. Back to work tomorrow (grumble, grumble, . . .).

Life goes on.

Balance

I had to go on a business trip to Massachusetts. As I drove thru the Catskills and Berkshires I admired the scenery as the colors were on the cusp of changing. It always amazed me that some small, unassuming branch would be the first to change. It seemed to me that these branches were on smaller, weaker trees. I found it comforting that nature would favor the weaker trees by letting them grab the glory of changing color first.

But why is this a comforting thought?

Nature is not fair. Nor does it have favorites. Nor is it predictable.

Why would the changing color give me comfort?

People look for fairness. We impose rules to make sure that things are predictable. How many times do you get mad when someone else got a bigger piece of cake than you did, or that the guy in front of you did not get the speeding ticket, or that the person in the cubicle next to you gets the same pay even though they don’t work as hard or well as you? We make rules to make the world fair – yet nature is not fair.

Nature does not make rules. There is no arbitration in nature. Maple trees don’t get to petition some higher court if they can’t get as much water as a willow. There is no recourse for sea turtle if their eggs are disturbed. No committee determines which of the weakest gazelle should become the food for the wolf pack.

As I drove along pondering this issue, I did not at first understand why the changing colors made me feel good. Nature is not fair. Yet, we strive for fairness, but it is an unachievable goal. No matter how many rules we make, there is always something about the world that the rules don’t fit. Maybe your child could read and write their name at 3 years, could time their shoes and tell time at 4, and knew how to add all the numbers up to 20. Yet if your little boy or girl was born 1 month to late, they have to wait 1 more year before they could start school. That doesn’t see fair. The rules are too crisp, too rigid.

We think about the laws of nature. Survival of the fittest. Only the biggest, the strongest, the fastest will survive. Yet nature is unpredictable. Sometimes a smaller buck gets his chance at the does when the bigger bucks are locking horns. Sometime the smallest seed can find its way into a crack in the sidewalk and sprout. Maybe the weaker tree prepares for winter by putting on its falls colors early. In doing so, it improves its chance of survival. There is balance. No matter what the rules are, there is a chance that the unexpected will get through. It is not in the rules that the chances lay, but in the variation.

This is where the hope is.

This is where I take comfort.

This is what I see in the first colors of fall.

The Color of Change

I went for a leisurely 25 mile bike ride today by one of my favorite routes. It has a short climb over a hill through the country. The height enhances the cold, and I could see snatches of fall colors in the trees, particularly in the sumacs.

As fall approaches I always look for the changing of the sumac. Once their leaves burst out all red, I know we have entered autumn. As I think about it, I realize that red is the color of change. In the fall, I look for the sumac to change. Winter starts with the holly berries, Santa’s red suit, and even shiny reindeer noses! Spring starts once I hear the ‘shwoo shwoo SHWEE’ of the redwing blackbirds. Summer is the time of sunburn, tomatoes, and juicy red watermelon. Indeed, red is the color of change…