rattle

Cloudy. Northern flickers gathering on the lawn at work. Allyn has put the flower vases back in the cupboard. Leaves rattle in the maple trees when blown by the wind. Same leaves, same wind as in June, totally different sound.

This body's existence is like a bubble's.
May as well accept what happens.
Events and hopes seldom agree,
but who can step back, doesn't worry?
We blossom and fade like flowers.
Gather and part like clouds.
Worldly thoughts I forgot long ago,
relaxing all day on a peak.

Han-Shan
Zen page a day calendar

shiny golden coins

Cloudy. Moon shadows, rooster crowing, ring around the moon, and the constellation Orion appearing on the morning walk. Campers & boats on trailers replaced by tour buses & heating oil trucks. Orange pine needles on the walkway at work. Birch leaves on another path, like shiny golden coins.

jerusalem artichoke

Cloudy. Driving to work in the morning, windows closed, and the heat is on. Milkweed seed pods opening in Proctor. Jerusalem Artichoke, over 7 feet tall and brightly yellow demanding my attention alongside the Clarendon River. People discussing heating oil prices in the cafeteria at work. I thought about my wood pile.
Morning, sickle in hand,
Noon, roaming the forest,
Gathering and binding wood.
Now the evening moon,
Quietly shedding her light
On my path.

Setcho's commentary on the way of Nansen
Zen page a day calendar

tourists

Cloudy. This is the time of year when Vermont starts to resemble a theme park, at least in the minds of some tourists. You see them scrambling around corn fields, beautiful vistas, steepled churches, and the like; digital cameras in hand. It's quite common to see cars parked carelessly on busy roads. Recently I saw a tourist leave his parked car with the driver side door wide open. This was on Route 7, one of the busiest roads in the state. God bless us.
Tourists taking pictures of a covered bridge in Ferrisberg. Pumpkins in a field in Pittsford, hundreds of them.

maples are turning

The maples are turning.

9/22/09
Cloudy. Maples are turning. There is a Christmas like quality this time of year as the fall colors begin to unwrap themselves. Some years the colors are vivid and bright, some years they are muted. As far as I know, nobody has ever been able to predict whether it's going to be a good year, or a bad year before it actually happens. It is a mystery.
There is a maple along Route 7 in Salisbury that is quite ordinary in almost every way. It lives in a little depression along the road. It is about 20 feet tall, and actually a little ragged in appearance. I notice it every year because its colors are always a deep, vibrant scarlet, and it's usually one of the first trees to turn. Somehow there is something very comforting in this, almost like the return of Orion to the night skies in autumn.

birds

Cloudy. Transitions in the avian world along with everything else this time of year. Ravens reappearing in large numbers on the lawn out front at work after being relatively inconspicuous for months. Don't really know what that's about. Maybe the smaller birds harass them when they're around during the summer. Blackbirds gathering in large numbers along the bypass, and spotted feasting in a corn field in Clarendon.

harvest moon

Cloudy. Autumnal equinox. Full moon, the "Harvest Moon" is tonight, Jupiter blazing alongside as they are both directly opposite the sun as viewed from Earth. Leaves drop quietly from the trees like beads of water after a soft rain.

mist

Cloudy. Pumpkins, apples & mums for sale at stands along Rte. 7. My interest in astronomy has led to a greater awareness of impending weather conditions. The other day, we had a heavy afternoon rain followed by clearing, cooler weather. Even though the sky was clear, I didn't plan on using the telescope, it would be too foggy. Sure enough, the mist rolled in and obscured what would, otherwise, have been a clear night sky.

frost

Sunny. 32 degrees this morning, frost on the car windshield. The field I drive by periodically on Cold River Road is a profusion of goldenrod this time of year. In the early spring, we live in a world of brown that, day by day, adds little touches of green. The opposite is the case right now. It is still green here, but every day more brown appears; cattails, and other kinds of brush.

morning glory

Sunny. Crystal clear morning. Golden sunflowers reach for the sky in all their glory in West Rutland. Burning bush starting to turn its usual shade of bright red over by production. Corn fields cut in Vergennes, only the stubble remains.

Indiana

Cloudy. Berries turning red on the asparagus plants in the back. No sign of the beetles that usually inhabit them in late summer. Dragonflies gathering in the back as they prepare for their September migration. Coming over the bypass this morning, the Green Mountains were totally engulfed in clouds. Makes it look like I'm driving through Indiana, not Vermont.

colder

Cloudy. Temps in the 30's (1st morning temperature report in awhile). Allyn wore her ski hat on the morning walk (full disclosure, I didn't go). All of my wood for winter is stacked & ready to go. It's a good feeling.

These are the thoughts of men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,
If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing.
If they do not enclose everything they are next to nothing.
If they are not the riddle, and the untying of the riddle they are nothing.
If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.

Walt Whitman
Zen Page a Day Calendar

cucumbers & flu shots

Cloudy. Cucumbers now showing up in a plastic bag in the cafeteria at work. Sound of dried leaves scraping against concrete in the road. Field hockey game at Rutland High School. Signs for flu shots in store front windows.

Refusing wordly worries,
I walk among village strollers.

Pine winds sing, the evening village
smells of grass, autumn in the air.

A lone bird roams down the sky.
Clouds roll across the river.

You want to know my name?
-a hill, a tree. An empty drifting boat.

Hsu Hsuan

champagne

Cloudy. Saturday was one of those days of clarity and sparkle, like champagne. Leaves just melting off the trees in the absence of wind. Looks like the corn guy has called it a season in West Rutland. Trees showing a lighter shade of green as chlorophyll descends to the tree roots for the cold season.

disappearances

Cloudy & cooler. Closing the windows in the house, and putting on warmer clothing in the evening. Great Blue Heron cruising the Ira creek. Fox calling its pups in the woods in the back.
As opposed to the spring when changes often take the form of appearances. Fall is a time of disappearances. The deer flies have pestered me all summer long when walking over to production. I noticed the other day that they are gone.

wood time

It's hard to put into words the feeling of cutting up wood for winter heat. It's hard work, but it's satisfying. You are out in the fresh air, and putting some of your assets to good use. You're saving yourself a pretty good chunk of money, but it's more than that.
Say there are five months of the year that require heat. That's about 3,600 hours, 216,000 minutes. We burn roughly 15 pieces of wood a day during the cold season. That means we need about 2,250 pieces to get us through. These calculations, believe it or not, are usually in the back of your mind when you are out cutting. You feel like you are somehow accounting for future warmth every time you saw off a log; here's 15 minutes, there's an hour's worth. Driving down from the woodlot with a truck full of maple, the thought goes through your head; how much did I get this time, a week's worth maybe? I've never felt the tangible presence of time as much as I do when sawing up wood for winter.
My friend Dharman, who's now a Zen priest, used to cut his own wood. He said there are many activities in life where the goal or purpose is uncertain. When he was cutting up his wood supply, however, there was never any doubt about why he was doing it.

magnolia

Rainy. State fair has started in Rutland. Wrecked cars from the demolition derby on trailers, heading to the junk yard. Boats on trailers, heading away from the lakes, and back into town. Magnolia in the neighbor's yard is in bloom. It has very large flowers, pink and white. It blooms in the spring and fall. It's the only tree I know of which does that.

nothing

A beautiful Labor Day weekend.

9/3/09
Another beautiful sunny day. Two deer eating apples under a tree in Proctor. Red maple leaf caught in barb wire in the fence in the back.

That thou mayest have pleasure in everything,
seek pleasure in nothing.
That thou mayest know everything,
seek to know nothing.
That thou mayest possess all things,
seek to possess nothing.
That thou mayest be everything,
seek to be nothing.

St. John of the Cross

spin

Sunny & hot. Red sky at morning. There is going to be a stargazing event at the Zen Center, and I was asked to find an appropriate photo for the announcement. Found a great picture of the Andromeda Galaxy. Later that same day, I saw an online picture of Hurricane Earl. They looked the same. The same whirling energy, the same arms radiating outward. What's up with that?


Time is but the stream I go a-fishin in. I drink at it; but while I drink, I see the sandy bottom, and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars.

Henry David Thoreau

tomatoes

Sunny & hot. Bowl of tomatoes available in the cafeteria at work. Flocks of pigeons working the fields of sunflowers. Gunfire in the woods. Children with backpacks walking to school in W. Rutland.

hot

Sunny and hot, highs in the 90's again today. And yet...Allyn hauls out the flashlight for the morning walk. Squirrel eating a nut right in the middle of Curtis Ave. Round hay bales in a field in Proctor.