Archive for November, 2008

Musings on a Summer Passing

The last of the blackberries have been bottled or canned. Nights have become quiet. The raucous din of insects gave way to voices of a few hearty katydids then finally, silence;┬ásave for the call of a wandering owl or the hum of the interstate now made louder by the loss of a barrier of leaves. Fall came briefly, but won’t be lingering. The first snow has already fallen and quickly retreated, but it won’t be long before it stays.

Mornings are also silent with no birds rising early to proclaim their territory. Random pairs of geese crisscross the sky aimlessly as if they are not sure if they have reached their destination yet. The days are growing shorter rapidly at both ends. Earth and sky will soon turn the same shade of gray.

We turn on more lights to keep the darkness out, but gradually embrace it.

Remembering last summer’s nocturne:


Woolly Bears Call for Long Winter

Wooly Bear

This time of year in the Northeast, it is not uncommon to see woolly bear caterpillars running around (especially crossing the road on warm days). Legend has it that you can tell how severe the Winter will be by the width of the brown stripe. Judging from those that I have seen this year, we are in for a cold one.

New Wine, New Moon

New Moon
First Vintage

I bottled the blackberry wine that I started last summer. Today it was moved from the carboy (secondary fermentation vessel) into recycled bottles. It is still a little yeasty, but the color and clarity are great. We will check it again in a few months.

The new moon set today in a field of Maxfield Parrish blue.