Life in a cabin on a mountain in southern Pennsylvania
Wednesday, October 03, 2012
Fog and drizzle is starting to be a broken record here on Roundtop Mtn., though the forecast promises an end by the weekend. I’m starting to find the lack of visibility annoying. The gloom of the fog only serves to make the shortened hours of daylight feel even shorter.
Bird activity is depressed. I’m not sure if it’s just that I can’t see them or if they simply aren’t out and about. I suspect it’s the latter. Even the Carolina chickadees and Tufted titmice that visit my feeders are fewer in number and nearly silent when they do appear. Instead of their near-constant chatter, they arrive quietly, grab a seed or two and disappear back into the fog.
This morning Baby Dog and I nearly stumbled over one of the deer that frequents the tiny patch of grass at the bottom of the lane that runs up the mountain. I stopped, the doe stopped and looked, and Baby Dog couldn’t see the deer at all, though it was only the width of the lane away from us. It wasn’t until the doe bobbed her head, probably trying to figure out what we were, that Baby Dog noticed. Her single bark was more than enough to put the deer into a run and disappear.
Are the colors changing on the trees? I can’t tell.
Are avian migrants on the move? I can’t tell.
Are enough leaves down that I might see the curve of the mountain to the west again? I can’t tell.
For all I know the ski resort might have disappeared in the past week. It’s simply too foggy to see much of anything, and the woods aren’t talking.
I live in a cabin in the forests of Pennsylvania. I write about what I see and do in the natural world around me. I've been a hawkwatcher for more than 20 years, a birder for longer than that, and a crayfish-catcher since I was a polywog.