happy halloween!

Happy Halloween! Asparagus & tamaracks are among the many foliage turning at this time. Oftentimes the asparagus looks like a miniature version of the tamarak. 2015 calendars available at a local bank. Starting up the wood stove.

copper

For the most part, the bright vibrant colors of the foliage season have gone by, but that doesn't mean that it's over. Many of the remaining trees display more muted colors as their leave turn. The oaks certainly fall into that category. The beech trees settle into a burnt orange, and then brown as the days pass. Ragweed evolves from a brilliant yellow into a dull gray. Noticing the color of the blackberry leaves in the front yard. It's the season of copper.

gets late early

Signs for the Haunted House, and corn maze in Pittsford. Dark colors of branches contrast with brighter colors of leaves as the falling of leaves exposes them. On some trees, only the bottom leaves survive. Sometimes they are the brightest.
Like Yogi Berra said, "It gets late early these days." It's dark when coming in to work early in the morning. I go to a local meditation group three mornings a week. It is dark now when we get started. Christmas tree lights have come out early to brighten up the room there during our sitting.

mixed blessing

Walking over to production, noticing the intensely red berries of the burning bush. They are redder than the leaves. I don't remember noticing that before. The burning bush is beautiful this time of year. It's not hard to understand how what I'm sure is a non-native plant ended up being planted here. I just got done with a very large project to remove multifloral rose from a section of my property. They are also an non-native plant that has become a big problem as an invasive species. Once it gets started, it's very difficult & painful to remove. They also have beautiful red berries this time of year, and, again, it's easy to see how they got imported here. Definitely a mixed blessing

the leaves were flying

The other day I was working in a little swale in the back. The leaves were flying.

11/18/11
Clear and cold. Two weeks ago on a Sunday, I got home from the Zen Center in the afternoon. Allyn was a couple of hours behind me, returning from visiting her mother in Ohio. I wanted to finish cleaning up the mess from the various wood piles I had created in the back yard before she returned. I hauled bark and chips from the back yard to the burn pile we have in a field nearby. As I was returning from the burn pile, I saw two oak leaves high in the sky down by the bridge. They must have been 100 feet in the air. I couldn't feel any breeze, it must have been above the tree line. But they came toward me, slowly fluttering in the air. They would start to head down, but would catch a thermal again, and rise up to the original level. One finally headed to earth along the road, but the other kept coming, fluttering, falling, rising, dancing on the wind. I had watched as I was hauling the wheelbarrow back, but the leaf had been in the air a long time, a number of minutes at least, longer than any leaf I had ever seen before. I finally put down the wheelbarrow, and gave the leaf my full attention. It kept coming; floating above the road, over the back yard and the house, over the front yard, and finally over my head heading east. It parted ways with the zephyr along a fence line, and slowly fell to the earth, landing in Allyn's flower garden near the old apple tree. As my eyes finally parted from the oak leaf, I looked up and saw the waxing moon, almost full, like mother of pearl, rising over the Green Mountains.

Soon the child's clear eye is clouded over by ideas and opinions, preconceptions and abstractions. Simple free being becomes encrusted with the burdensome armor of the ego. Not until years later does an instinct come that a vital sense of mystery has been withdrawn. The sun glints through the pines, and the heart is pierced in a moment of beauty and strange pain, like a memory of paradise. After that day...we become seekers.
Peter Matthiessen

mysterious

Three or four flocks of Canada geese heading south over Middlebury. Probably more than 100 geese altogether. I was in one of the back fields the other day, and came across two hawks on the ground no more than 100 feet from me. I approached them, and they flew away, but not very far. I have since seen them flying together in the back.
The other night I heard a loud sound in the back. It sounded like a squeaky screen door opening. Immediately afterwards there was the familiar sound of an owl. I'm sure it was two owls communicating with each other. Sometimes the workings of the natural world are pretty mysterious.

patterns

Falling pine needles increasing at work. The smell of pine in the air. Drooping sunflowers along Route 7. They seem resigned to the onset of winter. Circular patterns of leaves under solitary trees on lawns. Smell of wood smoke.

settings

Another warm day with another expected today. Then turning colder. Hauling my slippers out of the closet to warm my feet in the morning. Jerusalem Artichoke spotted along Cold River Road. They are huge, at least 7 feet high.
This blog is all about changes, the smaller the better. In the summer, when I use the air conditioner, the settings on the heater in the car blow cold air directly on my arms where it has the maximum effect. In the cooler weather, the settings change. Warm are is blown on my feet, and on the windshield for defrosting purposes. The change in settings has taken place.

closed for the season

Halloween decorations on front lawns and in stores. Leaves floating under the bridge in the Ira creek at home. Woods Market is closed for the season. Tour buses seen in Brandon.

Indian summer

Yesterday was sunny & we had a high of 75 degrees. It was actually warmer outside than it was in the office at work. At noon I drove down to the Hannaford Mkt. parking lot, and just sat in my truck with the windows open, enjoying the beautiful weather. Today we're expecting a high of 76.

All religious disciplines at bottom say the same thing. I and my Father are one. What is my Father? Not something other than myself, but just life itself: people, things, events, candles, grass, concrete. I and my Father are one. As we practice, we slowly expand this realization.
Charlotte Joko Beck
Zen Page-a-Day calendar

leafiness

Yesterday was Columbus Day, the peak of the fall foliage season.

10/7/09
At this time of year, it's possible to see leaves in a different way. I usually think that the natural state for leaves is for them to be attached to a tree. But now that seems as sensible as saying the natural state for a horse is for it to be tethered to a hitching post. It seems that leaves only reveal themselves, show their "leafiness" when they are finally liberated from their moorings on the ends of branches.
On a windy day, it gladdens the heart to watch them chase each other down the road. They seems to be in such a hurry to get to wherever it is they think they're going. It is uplifting to drive under a cloud of leaves released by the wind from tall trees. They resemble a swarm of butterflies heading south for the winter.
On a calm New England morning, when the time is right,  they just calmly melt off the trees, and drop softly to the ground, like hot wax dripping off a candle. Some of the leaves seem to have figured out that they would be better off indoors out of the cold and damp. They congregate outside our front door at home, waiting to get in. Quite a number of them do make it inside. One can find them happily ensconced on the door mat in the kitchen at home, and in hallways and offices at work.

decomposing leaves

Squirrels crossing the roads looking for food. School bus stopping in the usual places on Curtis Ave. in the morning. Even vines make for interesting fall foliage patterns this time of year. Smell of decomposing leaves.

ships

mist in the morning

Tractors pulling wagons full of corn silage on Route 3 in Proctor. Driving Route 7 at dusk, harvesters out in the corn fields. These machines are huge and well lit. I've seen them working well into the night. They look like ships at sea as they navigate their way through the rolling acres of full-grown corn.

from the south

Yesterday was a beautiful day. I was driving Route 7 in the morning, and noticed the wind was blowing from the south. I remembered the canoe trip on the Allagash river, and how for those five days the wind direction was such an important part of my life. We were heading north most of the time so if the wind was from the north, it made for vigorous paddling. If the wind was from the south, it meant an easy day of paddling was in store.
The other day I returned the canoeing gear to my friend, Mitra. I couldn't help but look with tenderness upon the gloves which, again, had been such an important & integral part of that time of my life. I realize that the trip was important and meaningful to me. Exactly how and why is still not clear. I think about it frequently.
Happy Anniversary to John & Ellen

hiss

Another beautiful day. Mums and asters for sale at Agway & other locations. Using the rear window defroster. The corn truck is gone from the parking lot in West Rutland. Hiss of dried leaves on the concrete walkway at work.

Fall

Driving home from work last Friday evening, the weather was sunny, windy, and warm. People were out walking on the streets with their families, enjoying the beautiful weather. On the face of it, it might have just been a typical summer's evening, but it wasn't. It was the quintessential fall evening. The thing is, I don't know exactly. Maybe it was the angle of the light at that time of day. Summer is gone, and fall is here. Frost on the windshield this morning.

from Laura Whitehead on flickr

Flock of blackbirds in Ira.

 

11/6/09

Cloudy. At this time of year, you see flocks of blackbirds gathering (or starlings, or grackels), hundreds of them. The size of the flocks is a little unsettling, like nature is out of balance. I have seen these flocks descend on the trees in the back woods. It is almost like a plague of locusts. I was reading about them in my Peterson's Field Guide and it said, "their song sounds like the creak of a rusty door hinge, penetrating."

The other day I went into a convenience store in Brandon, and there was a large flock screeching from the trees across the road. When I came out, one of the blackbirds was in the parking lot picking at crumbs of bread. Its feathery coat was a lustrous jet black from its beak to its tail. It glistened in the sun as it moved about. It was so sleek and aerodynamic. It was beautiful.

This is a lesson I keep having to relearn. Just because something is common doesn't mean it isn't beautiful. Ragweed, blackbirds, snowflakes can be ordinary...and miraculous. Many years ago I found a young starling that had dental floss hopelessly wrapped around and cutting into its leg. I ended up taking it to the Rutland Veterinary Clinic. My neighbor, Louella Day, a native Vermonter, was on duty. She took a look at it and said, "Well, it's just a starling, but let's see if we can take care of it." And she did. She had the right idea.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Paul McCartney

It's going fast

Driving home last night, noticed that some of the trees have more bare branches than leaves. It's going fast. Cows have gone home for the winter

singe

Pumpkins on a porch on a store in Brandon. Political lawn signs appearing. Wearing long sleeved shirts to work. Frost singes the basil in the front garden.