gunmetal blue

Snow on the mountains. Clank of a radiator at morning sitting. Saw a woman shoveling a shrunken jack-o-lantern off her front walk yesterday (me, too). Green Mountains transformed to gunmetal blue.

The moon shining full.
Smoke drifting away
over water.
Ranetsu
Zen page-a-day calendar

shopping

Windy and cold. Did the grocery shopping on Saturday. Parking lot was packed. Cranberries in abundance. Cans of cream of mushroom soup stacked on corners. Hood's Golden Egg Nog is now available. Wish I could get some to you, Pip! Stopped by the winter farmer's market, not that I needed anything there. It was packed as well. For some reason, the winter farmer's market is a comforting place to visit. It's so full of life.

It's not autumn's cold that keeps me awake,
but what I feel before the grasses and trees in my courtyard.
My banana tree has lost its leaves;
my parasol tree is old;
and night after night, the sound of wind,
the sound of rain.

Chujo Joshin
Zen page-a-day calendar

bonus

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=swUlDc3v3DE

blackbird

from somewhere on flickr

Large flocks of blackbirds when I was out in the woods putting up No Hunting signs last week. I couldn't see them, but could hear them. This entry first appeared on this blog on 11/6/09.

Cloudy. At this time of year you see large flocks of blackbirds gathering (or starlings or grackles), 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 have to relearn. Just because something is common doesn't mean it isn't beautiful. Ragweed, blackbirds, snowflakes can, at once, be ordinary...and miraculous. Many years ago I found a young starling which 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

stick season

Believe it or not, there are still some trees that are turning, and they will be chronicled at a later date, but, for the most part, the fall foliage season is over. The season between the turning of the leaves and the arrival of snow is known at "stick season." There is a stark beauty and clarity that describes this time of year. There is kind of an opening up of forests and fields as the leaves come down, and the corn is turned to silage. Birds such as the blue jays are much more noticeable. They've always been there during the summer months, but there have been so many other birds to notice that they sort of get lost.

Among the corn stalks
wind rippling
just for the corn.

Soen Nakagawa
Zen page-a-day calendar

silver

This time of year the water in lakes, ponds and streams takes on a metallic quality, like molten silver. Does that have something to do with the fading light, the browns and grays of the mountains? I don't know. When the snow arrives, water often looks profoundly black, like the eye of a shark.

The earth and heaven utter no word, but
they ceaselessly repeat
the holy book unwritten.

Kaiten Nukariya
Zen page-a-day calendar

snow

I was outside working yesterday when it started to snow very lightly. Drove home from Shelburne through this very light snow. It decorated the trees and bushes along the roadside with white highlights, like powdered sugar. It was beautiful, the first snowfall always is.
I ran into one of my neighbors at the supermarket. He was genuinely crestfallen about the start of the long, cold winter season. I tried to tell him how beautiful it was, how even in March when we're all sick of winter, it is still beautiful. He wasn't convinced.

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.
Albert Einstein