March 21, 2007
AM thermometer went past zero, maybe for the last time this year. Snow mushy during the day, freezes at night. Little crystalline nuggets in the morning. John home from D.C. today. New moon with Venus above.

This is how this blog started five years ago today. For a number of reasons it seems like an appropriate moment to bring this chapter of my life to a close. This will be the final posting. It has been an amazing exercise in awareness. Thanks to Carol for her regular and unstinting support. I have learned a lot over the years. Zen Master Dogen was right. Such mountains and waters of themselves become wise persons and sages.

The capacity of mind is broad and huge, like the vast sky. Do not sit with a mind fixed on emptiness... Emptiness includes the sun, moon, stars and planets, the great earth, mountains and rivers, all trees and grasses, bad men and good men, bad things and good things, heaven and hell; they are all in the midst of emptiness. The emptiness of human nature is also like this.
Hui-Neng
Zen page a day calendar

mountains

An ancient wise one once said: "Mountains are mountains, waters are waters." These words do not mean mountains are mountains: they mean mountains are mountains.
Therefore, investigate mountains thoroughly. When you investigate mountains thoroughly, this is the work of mountains.
Such mountains and waters of themselves become wise persons and sages.
Zen Master Dogen
Zen page a day calendar

south facing slope

71 degrees yesterday. Trees greening up. Boy riding a bicycle in Pittsford. Opening windows at home. Sound of a motorcycle. Came across some crocuses on a south facing slope when raking leaves in the front yard.

birth

Foggy morning. The world is dark, cold & wet. Feels like it's giving birth to itself. Frost heaves in the road in Chippenhook. The lane at home has turned from ice to soup. Spring issue of Rutland Magazine in the stores. Little league registration taking place in Morrisville. Piles of manure in fields in Pittsford waiting to be spread.

sun glasses

Temps in the 50's & 60's. Snow melt on the sidewalks, and in the roads in West Rutland. Joggers out running, and families out walking in the evening warmth; dogs on leashes, women pushing baby carriages. Taking off my jacket, and putting on sun glasses when walking at noon

sycamore

Temperatures in the 60's yesterday. There are a number of themes that have arisen as I have made my way through this journal over the years. One has to do with the process of revelation in the natural world. Phenomena in nature can seemingly hide in plain sight for years. It seems that once something is noticed, however, it appears to be everywhere.
Redently I posted a photo of a magnificent tree in Shelburne, Vermont. I had recognized its beauty years ago, but didn't know its name. My brother Bill suggested that it appeared to be a sycamore. He even showed where the sycamore is mentioned in the lyrics of "Moonlight in Vermont." It was only a few days later that I noticed a couple of sycamores on my drive to work. They are not far from the Clarendon river, not much more than a mile from my house. I have driven by these trees almost every day for thirty years, and never really noticed them. There are actually quite a number of sycamore trees in that area. How is it possible that I never really noticed them before?
There is something about this process of seeing something, describing it, naming it, that allows you to take ownership of it in a way. It becomes part of one's cognitive neighborhood. I have very much noticed this phenomenon in the world of astronomy. When you know the name of a star, or a constellation, you own it. It is forevermore a part of your world view.
Writing this daily journal has opened up the world of nature to me in ways that I never expected when I started out on this journey almost five years ago. It has been a very enlightening and gratifying process.

growing station

Temps in the 50's. Didn't have a fire in the wood stove for the first time in a long time. Working on my brackets for March Madness. St. Patricks Day decorations at work, and Easter candy in the stores. People walking around in tee shirts. Allyn's Burpee seeds have arrived, and she's set up her growing station in front of a south facing window at home. Crocuses appearing on Woodstock Ave.

squeaky door hinge

Daylight savings time started yesterday. It was light last night until after 7:00. Flock of geese spotted heading north. Pickup pulling a boat on a trailer on the bypass. Otter Creek high & brown from recent rain. Red winged blackbird observed on Stratton Road. Their "song" sounds like a squeaky door hinge, but, as a sign of spring, is a welcome one.

sense of loss

Yesterday the temperature was 48 degrees when we woke up, and made it into the 60's during the day. The temperatures are supposed to be in the 30's over the weekend, but then moving into the 50's for days and days. It feels like we are coming to the end of the winter that never really came in the first place. When you do a blog like this you really learn to appreciate the small moments associated with all of the seasons. There is a sense of loss when they never appear as they have in years past. I am thankful for the few wintry moments we've had in the last few days. Scraping ice off the windshield of my pickup truck with a comb. Snow blowing and drifting across Stratton road. Randy spreading salt on the walkway at work. Sound of ice pellets glancing off the windows at home. Huge snow flakes when driving through Chippenhook, sugar snow.
I had to bring some wood in last night during the rain. I don't think I'll miss that one bit.

Cheshire Cat Moon

For the last couple of weeks, the night sky has been thick with planets. Jupiter & Venus high in the evening sky in the west while Mars rises bright and pink over the Green Mountains in the east. Saturn can be found on the morning walk next to Spica. Even the elusive planet Mercury has made an appearance, and I stopped on my way home to view it a couple of weeks ago. The crescent moon, Jupiter, and Venus were lined up, and pointing to the area where Mercury was supposed to appear above the horizon. It was still light out, and I kept looking back to the moon and the planets to make sure I was scanning the correct area in the sky.
The moon had an unusual appearance. It was almost like it was lying on its back with the points of the crescent heading straight up. I read in the paper that this is the usual appearance at this time of year. As I kept looking, the moon seemed to take on a life of its own. It started to smile at me, much like the eerie cat that ate the canary smile of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. Then it seemed like the whole universe was part of the act with the Cheshire Cat Moon playing the lead role. All of the universal secrets were there to behold if only I could find the right key. The moon seemed to be very confident that I would fumble the opportunity away. It was unnerving actually. I'm out here minding my own business, trying to locate a faint planet, and the universe is spying on me, laughing at me. Fortunately Mercury did finally show itself, and I made my way home.
The full moon, the "Worm" moon is tonight.

active

Sunny & in the 50's today. Reddish tinge to the maples as sap makes its way to the branches. Sound of mourning doves in the afternoon. I've seen them, but haven't heard them so far this year. Sound of a woodpecker on the morning walk. They become active this time of year. Don't know if they're establishing their territory or looking for food. Kayaks for sale at Dick's Sporting goods.

sugaring season

Town meeting last night. Supposed to be the start of the sugaring season.

3/27/09.
30's and foggy. Took a walk up the cross roads last night. As I started out, I saw steam rising out of the May's sugarhouse. I was happy to notice the first signs of sugaring I'd seen all year. As I got near the top, there was a pickup parked with its lights on. It was Justin Turco out collecting sap with his daughter. I met him as I was walking by, and he invited me to his sugarhouse. He said to go on in, and he would be along in a minute. Walking across the bridge over the creek in front of his house, bright lights from the sugarhouse ahead of me in the rainy gloom. His wife Tammy was inside sugaring. That smell! She gave me some hot syrup to sample, a taste of Vermont heaven. We had a great visit. Lights were on in the Johnson's sugarhouse at the bottom of the hill when heading home. Sparks shooting out of the chimney like stars in the sky. I realized there are four working sugarhouses within walking distance of our house. I think I am going to have pancakes with maple syrup tomorrow morning.

town meeting day

Town report arrives ahead of Town Meeting Day which is today. The announcement about the annual meeting of the Vermont botanical and bird club has arrived. Announcement about a guided tour of the Tinmouth Channel to be led by the old woodchuck himself, Doug Blodgett. I think we'll probably go. Christmas wreath has been removed from the front door, and thrown on the compost pile. The poinsettia still looks great.

snow day

Yesterday was stormy. Allyn had a snow day. Good for her.

To sit without emotion, hope, or aim,
In the loved presence of my cottage fire,
And listen to the flapping of the flame,
Or kettle whispering its faint undersong.
William Wordsworth
Zen page a day calendar

miracles

Snow today. Hearing the sounds of birds in the morning.

3/25/08
A couple of revealing moments about life in a cold climate. This morning on our morning walk we ran into Barb, and we all remarked about how it was getting light out. About two minutes later we were walking by the Dufner's house. I heard a high pitched repetitive sound. I couldn't figure out what it was. It sounded like maybe a squeaky fan that might be running in their basement. It finally dawned on me what it was. It was a solitary bird singing to the rising sun. In a few weeks there will be hundreds of them doing the same thing. It has been so long since I'd heard that sound. It seemed like a miracle!
To a lesser degree I experienced the same feeling yesterday walking to production. The snow on the lawn has been receding, and it disappeared completely over the weekend. That which had been covered with snow and invisible for so long was revealed. Again it seemed like a miracle.
On the one hand, there's something a little pathetic about living in a place where a singing bird is considered a miracle. On the other hand it's a gift. Complacency is one of the greatest killers of the joy of living. Living in a cold climate continues to offer opportunities to appreciate and savor the small miracles of life. In many ways that is the heart of this daily journal. Opossum seen along the road in West Rutland last night.