tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-158918192024-03-23T14:15:55.338-04:00Roundtop RuminationsLife in a cabin on a mountain in southern PennsylvaniaCarolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.comBlogger2020125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-66813929390702259132016-04-02T09:48:00.001-04:002016-04-02T09:48:17.063-04:00Blooming<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YF3lpbu4JeJHeHTihHGcByXssOVsnb3a6sdEFyhHYcskD1ojgbR0yoB5PH6WwhpfMkm876PL2oq-IepEhwbkUMSnMbNduFa3JT_phbHqjvaDe6zXnbPyEmABkGu2_U92vszXGw/s1600/dog-toothed+violet2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YF3lpbu4JeJHeHTihHGcByXssOVsnb3a6sdEFyhHYcskD1ojgbR0yoB5PH6WwhpfMkm876PL2oq-IepEhwbkUMSnMbNduFa3JT_phbHqjvaDe6zXnbPyEmABkGu2_U92vszXGw/s640/dog-toothed+violet2sm.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The trout lilies, aka dog-toothed violets, are blooming just
two steps from my bottom step. It is a
large patch, perhaps 7 ft by 5 feet. It
grows a little larger each year and has been in that same spot ever since I’ve
lived in the cabin, and who knows how long before that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning I am blessed in a dry season with a bit of
spring drizzle—not much unfortunately. Enough even so to make the birds sing
and see the leaves of the smaller forest trees now edged with pale green. The rue anemone are blooming, too. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, it is spring, and it feels like an early spring after
one of the warmest Marches ever. Looking
ahead, the first half of April, at least, looks cool. Perhaps the weather will keep spring at this
level for a while. I would like that for
I like this time of year before the oak leaves burst open, before the
underbrush makes woods walking difficult.
It’s a bit like November after the leaves have fallen, but warmer. It’s a time when I can see over to the next
mountain, and sounds aren’t yet muffled by the leafy canopy. I wouldn’t mind if this time of year stayed
for a while and didn’t rush into summer or even full spring. Perhaps it will happen.<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-81613902185046245482016-03-28T13:13:00.001-04:002016-03-28T13:13:27.574-04:00Odd and ends<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh37tN78mRMwSTaKm5NhwohysNFVrFjIz4XLcJyw2wg2Mkq51qhwLcU6moUWvcHxRicdO7ncfrAAQijeKLaPyv4BzP8utqAscYKWwdchQ2lfeIMkgWYIXFE8-seFHmGgUQbweO8rw/s1600/textures2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh37tN78mRMwSTaKm5NhwohysNFVrFjIz4XLcJyw2wg2Mkq51qhwLcU6moUWvcHxRicdO7ncfrAAQijeKLaPyv4BzP8utqAscYKWwdchQ2lfeIMkgWYIXFE8-seFHmGgUQbweO8rw/s640/textures2sm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lichen and bark</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m still coughing from that dratted, awful cold but mostly I
am back to normal. Here on Roundtop,
spring is starting to spring. I see
yellow-rumped warblers fairly regularly.
The American coot that set up shop on the little snowmaking pond is
still there. The bird seems healthy and happy, but why it has chosen this
little pond to hang out on when bigger ponds and lakes abound isn’t something I
understand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dog-toothed violets/trout lilies/etc. are just about
ready to bloom. The stalks are up but
the flowers aren’t yet out. I will check
the patch later today again, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a few flowers open
before evening.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Except for two days, the entire month of March here has been
above average in temperature. For a
while, it looked as though the month would rank in the top five warmest March’s
since recordkeeping began. Those two
cooler days were enough to drop the month into the #7 slot. So far the month is 6.7 degrees warmer than
average, which is pretty warm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the moment the wind is fierce, following a day of light
showers and fog. With this kind of wind
I don’t venture outside very often or too much.
It’s the kind of wind that brings down branches but hopefully not
trees. Still, I feel a lot safer with a
roof over my head.<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-87118651846686571022016-03-19T08:49:00.001-04:002016-03-19T08:49:33.294-04:00Breaking new ground<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5ok73wgwSOZ4uQd11h35iVhsSByKU574V2aJhDENL3dyYYR6xt8uB4lGNmH1IajllJTsbiu5RU5uXzXq8uG_aoiAdh5wTDUmgEOJUv4xonIFtdr6Otb0uXFeiIfPrfkVhuMQ1g/s1600/trout+lily+sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5ok73wgwSOZ4uQd11h35iVhsSByKU574V2aJhDENL3dyYYR6xt8uB4lGNmH1IajllJTsbiu5RU5uXzXq8uG_aoiAdh5wTDUmgEOJUv4xonIFtdr6Otb0uXFeiIfPrfkVhuMQ1g/s640/trout+lily+sm.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dog-toothed violet or trout lily,--take your pick</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have had the worst cold of my life for going on two
weeks. My sister gave it to me, and I
told her during the worst of the cold that if I’d gotten this cold ten years
from now it would either kill me or put me in the hospital. I have now returned to the land of the
living, though the cough and some remnants still remain. No long walks in the forest for me just yet,
but I am well enough to wander around my own little acreage. And that is where I discovered the first
leaves in my dog-toothed violet/trout lily patch. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The pretty bi-colored leaves aren’t hard to see, but they
can be hidden by fall’s leaves as they are only up by an inch or two at the
moment. It’s a good thing the flowers
aren’t out yet. Tomorrow I will get what
is virtually certain to be the last gasp of winter on what will be the first
day of spring. Several inches of wet,
heavy snow are predicted, a true “onion” snow, as such things are called in
this area.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Other signs of spring are popping up. Spring is not yet exploding but it’s moving
forward, about like when the first kernels of the popcorn start to pop. The first phoebes arrived a week ago. I have had an American Coot on the smallest
snowmaking pond for a week now. It shows
no signs of leaving. The ski resort has
closed for the season, too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I type a local Blue Jay is performing its Red-tailed Hawk
call. It started doing that about 10
days ago and is so pleased with itself that it now calls all over the
mountain. It particularly performs the
call just before landing in my bird feeders, perhaps hoping to clear the decks
so it can have the feeders to itself. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am glad this cold has nearly run its course in time for me
to enjoy the start of spring, even if I have to shovel to get to the chicken
coop one more time. <o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-63156566578045014652016-03-04T10:22:00.001-05:002016-03-04T10:22:42.098-05:00Could this little snow...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjfR3o5UWXjTnYrSKetcOcRD__F6kgJ-dn2zRX0kwIMgNo_TL1FDVElaop6cWYHPzsXGVw2tncrYjEoEL78zFO5cH6vxfThyphenhyphenPfJDsfDUA926lcoLhFwlpywRTRQOYTWaiaeaVHA/s1600/snow+birdhouse2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjfR3o5UWXjTnYrSKetcOcRD__F6kgJ-dn2zRX0kwIMgNo_TL1FDVElaop6cWYHPzsXGVw2tncrYjEoEL78zFO5cH6vxfThyphenhyphenPfJDsfDUA926lcoLhFwlpywRTRQOYTWaiaeaVHA/s640/snow+birdhouse2sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…be the last? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s
early, even here in southern Pennsylvania, for the last snow to be on the
fourth of March. However, the next week
looks spring-like, and by the time that weather pattern is gone it will be
mid-March. And after mid-March snow
becomes fairly unlikely here. Cold
weather can abound in March, but precipitation—not so much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I am enjoying this little bit of snow this morning. It likely won’t last much past lunch time,
when the temperature rises above freezing. Despite the 31” blizzard of late
January, 2016 brought fewer snow events than is typical. I only recorded 6 days
with snow this winter, and half of those were about the depth of this little
snow. Last year was exceptionally snowy
with 15 snow events against an average of 8. The snowfall in winter 2015-16
stands (so far) as one below average, though that big blizzard sure tried hard
to make up for the lack. <o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-73438796952926162862016-03-01T11:12:00.000-05:002016-03-01T11:12:22.088-05:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDbT_ZBlsLfcteRdTXY2osIq-Z79BpPp_crCRxBYD-By108yqXwBmEhHDhFItJIC2JBjrj45tMfb_b5SmzVx8X5MK-zCPNlowFUOdhKzDtKSi-Fc5p4l68KQuGUguNTavqr_txw/s1600/marscesent2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDbT_ZBlsLfcteRdTXY2osIq-Z79BpPp_crCRxBYD-By108yqXwBmEhHDhFItJIC2JBjrj45tMfb_b5SmzVx8X5MK-zCPNlowFUOdhKzDtKSi-Fc5p4l68KQuGUguNTavqr_txw/s640/marscesent2sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The marcescent leaves of these young American beech trees won't be around too much longer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning I saw the first northbound skein of Canada
geese, a long line of about 150 birds, far more than the 30-couple that are
resident here on Roundtop. The lone male
red-winged blackbird has now been joined by several fellows. The boys are settling on territory, arriving
earlier than the females, who will decide later which of these singers with red
chevrons on their wings has the best spot to build their nests.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With the disappearance of the snow cover, I can once again
walk through the forest around Roundtop.
In much of winter I am restricted to plowed roads and pathways. Even once the snow melts, I avoid the worst
of the mud. I own “Wellies,” which are
great at keeping out the mud but not designed for long walks. Last night saw a mild freeze, which froze the
mud long enough for me to take an early morning walk. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tomorrow a bit more snow is called for, which means today is
the calm before the storm, and a beautiful, calm morning it is—ideal for a walk
in the woods. Woodpeckers were busy; a pair of mallards were complaining about
something, the bluebirds were singing.
Between them and the blackbirds, the songs nearly qualified as a dawn
chorus, a harbinger of spring if ever there was one. <o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-43710594033657025452016-02-29T16:03:00.002-05:002016-02-29T16:03:42.394-05:00Leaping around<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2iV2slDRZDFdlQYpJrUCmjccU939uyAqJy2y7dT3VOMNxkyMN0_TdJojhfq-QprSfa_lEotGhVbis3UKAqeZMVpfN01Xch3njwEY8pmoutIYtCYiG8U374vlnSfW2JGvcOfVlA/s1600/February+29+2016asm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2iV2slDRZDFdlQYpJrUCmjccU939uyAqJy2y7dT3VOMNxkyMN0_TdJojhfq-QprSfa_lEotGhVbis3UKAqeZMVpfN01Xch3njwEY8pmoutIYtCYiG8U374vlnSfW2JGvcOfVlA/s640/February+29+2016asm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
Winter’s snow is nearly gone. Patches and piles remain, as does ice on the
lakes and ponds. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a warm day yesterday I really thought the ice on the
lakes would be gone. So early this morning I went down to Pinchot Lake and
discovered ice still covering it. The
small lagoon has open water and is currently populated by 21 Canada geese, but
the waterfowl I’m most interested in seeing don’t like the little lagoon and
can only be found on the large lake. I
would not want to try and walk on that ice at this point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of the “spring” birds I have so far only seen and heard
red-winged blackbirds. The robins were
here all winter, and it became common to see robins foraging beside juncos,
which I always find amusing. Those
species can’t be well acquainted with each other in this area as their timing
doesn’t usually overlap, as it has this year. <o:p></o:p></div>
February started out cold, but ended up warm and
so ended up being a fairly average month in the temperature department. I wonder how a leap year affects daily
temperature averages. As today would
normally be March 1, do weather people compare a leap day to March 1 or keep it
separate from the other days? Do daily
temperatures skew differently in a leap year because of the extra day? It’s a thought I am pondering this morning on
this once in every four year event.Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-76293191774910445052016-02-16T09:55:00.002-05:002016-02-16T09:55:23.377-05:00Snow - ice - sleet - rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIdqlvFECDHVWKy90FJdNSKV_TcRuKczDx_jQ2oIFNgpTbGGdfswmhm5CFac5aecExppjuMSXjEw90GVspUF_OmNqlvZyveKwjFqmF1dNhGjT33Ney66KT-cYyGb4ZIdMe2KJ5pQ/s1600/Ssnowy+farm+view+sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIdqlvFECDHVWKy90FJdNSKV_TcRuKczDx_jQ2oIFNgpTbGGdfswmhm5CFac5aecExppjuMSXjEw90GVspUF_OmNqlvZyveKwjFqmF1dNhGjT33Ney66KT-cYyGb4ZIdMe2KJ5pQ/s640/Ssnowy+farm+view+sm.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the moment, the forest is snow covered. I say for the
moment because I am in the middle of one of those snow/sleet/ice/rain storms
that is a staple of southern Pennsylvania winters. Even
for here, this storm is extreme.
Yesterday morning was 4° and today the temperature will be in the 40’s!
Yesterday I was dripping the faucets to prevent the water pipes from freezing,
and today I am worried about flooding!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The feeder birds are feeding heavily. I still haven’t seen
anything unusual here so far this winter, unless you count a sapsucker as
unusual, which I don’t. Not a siskin,
not a redpoll, not a purple finch can be found.
The winter finch forecast was not encouraging, but it didn’t sound as
though I’d have none of them, just fewer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So “today’s” photo was actually taken on Sunday, when the
snow was still lovely and not icy or water-logged. It may be the last photo of
nice-looking snow for a while. I took
the photo from the kitchen of my family’s farmhouse, looking over to South
Mountain. I never get tired of this view. The mountains look different nearly every day of the year.<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-71792653351335122742016-02-10T15:22:00.006-05:002016-02-10T15:22:57.374-05:00Snow, beautiful snow!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOvmoaCsqIRmS7laSOwxwBlToVjXwfYC_fb6c8m4S8xpGLYGjZG31vPSHSJ2IxgYzXKr6zvcs3Qj4k4RbUcfhdx1lTLpO8OiYOHycnGgTy-Tl4xr7szH1ngpbcGlqsy4l8D4V9Q/s1600/winter+cabin2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOvmoaCsqIRmS7laSOwxwBlToVjXwfYC_fb6c8m4S8xpGLYGjZG31vPSHSJ2IxgYzXKr6zvcs3Qj4k4RbUcfhdx1lTLpO8OiYOHycnGgTy-Tl4xr7szH1ngpbcGlqsy4l8D4V9Q/s640/winter+cabin2sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Isn’t it amazing how snow can transform the look of a
landscape? Even though I’ve lived at the
cabin for more than 20 years now, the forest around me looks like an entirely
different place when it’s covered with snow. Yes, I know all about the downside of snow—the
constant shoveling, the dicey driving, the sore muscles that follow the
constant shoveling. And yet, looking at
the forest covered in snow never fails to inspire me. I wish more of the year was snow-covered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xnnPdusgS1Lq5FfzcIWGhy2t6xnFrMTDCD_c2F8dkLMGe1_9ueU_btQ07Crq1PyuDnZzAQSGnBn65gqVYkjcr4q_GyBFduG6TNkh3aGFdU3Zk0wNhfpG7xhPuY41ZxWYcqRMqg/s1600/snowy+trees2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xnnPdusgS1Lq5FfzcIWGhy2t6xnFrMTDCD_c2F8dkLMGe1_9ueU_btQ07Crq1PyuDnZzAQSGnBn65gqVYkjcr4q_GyBFduG6TNkh3aGFdU3Zk0wNhfpG7xhPuY41ZxWYcqRMqg/s640/snowy+trees2.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So far this winter, I’ve had a few days with just a trace of
snow—that’s not really enough to make me appreciate it. Then I had the 31” storm that was nearly
melted a week later. Now, I’ve added
another 6-7 inches of snow-cover. This
one is likely to stay on the ground for a while, as temperatures are to plummet
for the next 4-5 days. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cZ7Rim5_z7VQQAtiwp1EAy3CT20oE9QbmHUGeKR8KfLZfNXSOZ663VwA_zPrHshVG407IvubKksQRZksIBWbcytNmAeDSwnjoy3k_ZJIQIkWKW0rBiVQeAEvMjBDowyU6hDKiA/s1600/crazy+winter+dogs2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cZ7Rim5_z7VQQAtiwp1EAy3CT20oE9QbmHUGeKR8KfLZfNXSOZ663VwA_zPrHshVG407IvubKksQRZksIBWbcytNmAeDSwnjoy3k_ZJIQIkWKW0rBiVQeAEvMjBDowyU6hDKiA/s640/crazy+winter+dogs2sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unlike the blizzard, which was as powdery and lightweight as
a feather, this was a heavier snow that even in a rather stiff breeze is
sticking to the trees, which only adds to the beauty of the winter forest.<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-77363432326008933052016-02-03T11:48:00.002-05:002016-02-03T11:48:32.011-05:00Before the rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnarLyHeoUc2w6UMp2-AsP1ASQ06j1uGkFK6dFEcSxRt8Oe2BtWyADLhFjCN8WjfGA6tLB5ZqOH_PLsD-7xgacQze-5fTCbn7tUA3bi538zRNLxSjnSWpLbcThF7XD0sb3aGkpfA/s1600/wintry+trees+straight.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnarLyHeoUc2w6UMp2-AsP1ASQ06j1uGkFK6dFEcSxRt8Oe2BtWyADLhFjCN8WjfGA6tLB5ZqOH_PLsD-7xgacQze-5fTCbn7tUA3bi538zRNLxSjnSWpLbcThF7XD0sb3aGkpfA/s640/wintry+trees+straight.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took this snow photo on Tuesday morning, before the clouds
rolled in. At the moment it is raining
(!) and raining hard, with fog to boot.
It’s the kind of day for me to stay inside and work around the cabin. I’d
say the weather isn’t fit for woman or beast, but the bests don’t mind the
heavy, cold, near-freezing raindrops soaking their coats as much as I do.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My plan for the day is to do some housework, peppered with a
little cooking and a couple of cups of hot chocolate or flavored coffee. It’s a ham and bean soup kind of day, too,
though any good, hearty, hot soup would do as well. It's a good excuse to spend a few hours watching the feeder birds, too, even if it's only the "usual suspects" that are frequenting them this year.</div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-80312298785966964832016-02-01T10:23:00.001-05:002016-02-01T10:23:29.076-05:00Out of the blizzard!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1tBuzIzAvgregk09mbC_ZDgVDxQGCOa9xE8vKqRd0RmSVRVVEidAA_2vHlJC9Ijuwd3_KQOs_hgHVt7-c-wEWEeMLghivjAcmo7KAoFxLytlvfQ7LG-zEfCGywjK_m3yRuViuWg/s1600/winter+sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1tBuzIzAvgregk09mbC_ZDgVDxQGCOa9xE8vKqRd0RmSVRVVEidAA_2vHlJC9Ijuwd3_KQOs_hgHVt7-c-wEWEeMLghivjAcmo7KAoFxLytlvfQ7LG-zEfCGywjK_m3yRuViuWg/s640/winter+sunset.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been quite lax recently in keeping up with Roundtop
Ruminations, and for that I apologize and will try to do better. Lately, I’ve been taking photos and posting
them on Facebook, mostly due to a lack of time. Feel free to friend me there,
if you like (Carolyn Hoffman). Those
photos go up pretty much as soon as I take them, though often with a cellphone,
as that is more quickly at hand, especially when I am walking the dogs. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of this past week has been spent shoveling 31” of snow
that fell during the blizzard of 2016.
With help from Roundtop Mountain Resort, I now have my car dug out in
and in my driveway. Plus, the sibling,
sibling-in-law and I have also gotten the farm’s driveway plowed out and dug
out, at least as much as it’s going to get done.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The chickens have gotten over the shock of seeing so much
snow, but still haven’t found their way clear to lay me any eggs. I hope that changes soon! I can’t say I blame
them, though.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Around the cabin, I’ve been seeing deer and turkey. They
have been using the plowed driveways and walk paths for their own travel, as
that is much easier than wading through so much snow, though doing so brings
them closer to people. They don’t appear
to mind this. Somewhat to my surprise, the Carolina wrens are still
around. After a big snow in 1993 or 1996
they disappeared for several years.
Those little southern birds like to roost and nest under tree roots and
similar ground tangles. In heavy snows
they are buried and can suffocate or starve.
But in this snow the birds were out and about the day after the
blizzard, so they made it through this time well enough. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My feeders have been busy with birds—nothing rare this
winter—though I have had some local birds that don’t normally appear in my
feeders show up demanding food. The blue jays have been out in force, as have a
pair of crows. I think this is the first
time I’ve had the crows in the bird feeders.
Naturally, these large birds empty the feeders faster than the little
ones. One of my errands today will be
replenishing the bird seed. I am nearly
out, and the birds are counting on me!<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-14327819541034178622016-01-18T13:40:00.001-05:002016-01-18T13:40:35.972-05:00Feeder birds, 1; weather forecaster, 0<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6gZOrJefKma6DoWyocKezinP_-BeLhZGatuo6vWSYNMlf5KkTcKGnd15MgPGowOwJ3Os0EpRn2izbrEdoSm2fLyrfRYMheJCqsaIIs_KmIbR4Uuqj96Z9QYHgQrJ2JI9UgzGHow/s1600/pinchotcold2asm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6gZOrJefKma6DoWyocKezinP_-BeLhZGatuo6vWSYNMlf5KkTcKGnd15MgPGowOwJ3Os0EpRn2izbrEdoSm2fLyrfRYMheJCqsaIIs_KmIbR4Uuqj96Z9QYHgQrJ2JI9UgzGHow/s640/pinchotcold2asm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ominous morning clouds over Pinchot Lake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My feeder birds are better at predicting snow than the local
forecasters. Two days ago I wasn’t
supposed to get any precipitation when I noticed the feeder birds chowing down
in earnest. That’s never a good
sign. It’s true they weren’t going at
the bird seed like little demons, but the level of feeding was definitely
higher than was normal for 10 a.m. The
clouds looked ominous, and snow wasn’t far to the south of me. Perhaps it was just nearness of that coastal
storm that set them off. But no.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Within an hour, the first snowflakes appeared, and not long
after that the snow was heavy enough that I couldn’t see the mountain to the
west and before long I couldn’t even see to the bottom of Roundtop. For an hour or so, the snow was pretty
intense before it began to taper off.
The feeder birds do not lie. They
know when it’s going to snow. They are
not fooled.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This winter, I don’t have any exotic or unusual feeder
birds, just the usual suspects in roughly the same numbers as is typical. For me, this means about 5 Carolina
chickadees, a pair of Northern Cardinals, 2-3 tufted titmice, a pair of
Carolina wrens, another of eastern nuthatch, the ubiquitous downy woodpecker
and an array of dark-eyed juncos that never seem to quite understand how
feeders work. They are much more likely
to just sit around and watch the other birds eat from the feeders. Eventually,
they return to the ground where they join the white-throated sparrows. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also have a few
infrequent visitors—a pair of house finch and another of American goldfinch,
the red-bellied woodpecker and occasionally the hairy woodpecker taps on the
tree from which the bird feeders hang. I
have yet to see that one in the bird feeders.
I have no sign of pine siskins, let along the even more rare evening
grosbeak or the rarer still, redpoll. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still, I do not complain as watching these little ones flit
in and out never gets old for me. They teach
me a lot about the behaviors of the different species, and, as weather
forecasters go, they can’t be beat.<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-32137376701085027852016-01-13T14:21:00.002-05:002016-01-13T14:21:45.475-05:00Snow finally arrives<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZ1x1CM8_AQvn8SQmJJ4HJkLKXgoHEeDTdFocCwE3hggeEm8U36Vzpyn6e7ljrLJ8280e992dt7_0C8Dm-ElUkYT0MZPuZ1qLhs4V8N6TqHimxvOnXajmTHZUI_nhdOLE4UbIqg/s1600/snowy+rock2sm2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZ1x1CM8_AQvn8SQmJJ4HJkLKXgoHEeDTdFocCwE3hggeEm8U36Vzpyn6e7ljrLJ8280e992dt7_0C8Dm-ElUkYT0MZPuZ1qLhs4V8N6TqHimxvOnXajmTHZUI_nhdOLE4UbIqg/s640/snowy+rock2sm2.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally, Roundtop sees a measurable snow, if barely. The snow blew through at dusk yesterday,
accompanied by a vicious wind that made me glad I was inside the cabin in front
of the fireplace. Today, the wind is
abating and no longer howls, but at 12 degrees, it doesn’t take much wind to
feel bitter cold.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SWU28c1oDGHnAFKl7vWsjUGpk1PP3P4jadEwbTgot1N2isny-k4DSrohGSKSV-Rol0xuulNpYlJ7nJfG2tqrlMVAQaNsr0I2Uz3UfipmQttN5OC01OEP8k4fsZw6YXbhBfZr1A/s1600/snowy+sunrise2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SWU28c1oDGHnAFKl7vWsjUGpk1PP3P4jadEwbTgot1N2isny-k4DSrohGSKSV-Rol0xuulNpYlJ7nJfG2tqrlMVAQaNsr0I2Uz3UfipmQttN5OC01OEP8k4fsZw6YXbhBfZr1A/s640/snowy+sunrise2sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, all the birds are feeding heavily, emptying several
of my feeders before noon. And that’s
without help from the chickens, who remained in their coop, unwilling to
emerge, until after noon. The wild birds
don’t have that option, of course. The number
of them at the feeders today is causing an unusual amount of
disagreements. The white-breasted
nuthatch don’t like each other and when they are not feeding, they are trying
to chase each other away. The juncos
have something against both the titmice and chickadees and will force both of
those species from the platform. They simply
don’t want to share. For the first time
I’ve had 5 Carolina chickadees at the feeders at the same time. Until today I thought I only had 4 regular
visitors. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oddly, even in this cold I’ve seen a few robins this
morning, though one was sitting in the middle of the road as I drove off the
mountain and only flew reluctantly.
Still, their cousins, the eastern bluebirds were singing this morning,
so they are apparently getting by well enough. It does, finally, feel (very much so) like
winter, but after the warmth in December, it’s well past time for the season to
appear in earnest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<br />Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-62595979603452806382016-01-08T10:03:00.000-05:002016-01-08T10:03:15.895-05:00How long will it last?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkbc_T204xngLn2-lBEjSlN227CbbGjcBZ45Tlz7IjQONlU54xzpf_m4YMKeIzzBbIjotu6ZPlX7-vKDiXHnsrSfg4YBOGslc9iMYrF5eW13zrCfm-m9jPcLEIkzHOD4Ues0zpA/s1600/leaning+treesm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkbc_T204xngLn2-lBEjSlN227CbbGjcBZ45Tlz7IjQONlU54xzpf_m4YMKeIzzBbIjotu6ZPlX7-vKDiXHnsrSfg4YBOGslc9iMYrF5eW13zrCfm-m9jPcLEIkzHOD4Ues0zpA/s640/leaning+treesm.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This photo was taken on December 23, and I’m posting it for
one reason only. This tree looks as
though it will fall before long, and I wanted to document how long it would be
before that happened. I’m not sure when
this tree began to lean so precipitously, but it hasn’t been that long. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I walk by this spot
every day with the dogs, and I do try to make a habit of noticing things. I might have missed seeing it lean for a few
days, as I couldn’t see this far into the forest due to heavy fog or because I
was walking when it was still mostly dark, but I doubt I missed it for longer
than that. Even now, I’m not so sure
that the only things keeping it from falling aren’t the medium-sized boulders
at its base. And no, I probably won’t
get much closer than this to investigate.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The tree is leaning from south to north, so a southerly wind
might well do it in, though southerly winds are mostly blocked at this spot by
the mountain that rises behind the tree.
Still, it won’t take much to bring it down—a moderate ice storm, a
heavier rain, perhaps even a heavy snow.
I just want to see how long it takes between when I took the photo and
when the tree actually falls.<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-54178401217389440982016-01-06T10:30:00.002-05:002016-01-06T10:30:35.442-05:00Re-learning how to do winter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZOLFBvMkdkwQ5FI0mytoJoLK4upSPPzSzl5-oEBvX2CWeXDMGLux83vk0k9Hviy9sdnZk7PCRg8zlz4d9DOWlLep8IpFlTgSVK_b-1i0cDsNy54vVM_WIJ48UAvn8unQ9AVKAw/s1600/January+light2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZOLFBvMkdkwQ5FI0mytoJoLK4upSPPzSzl5-oEBvX2CWeXDMGLux83vk0k9Hviy9sdnZk7PCRg8zlz4d9DOWlLep8IpFlTgSVK_b-1i0cDsNy54vVM_WIJ48UAvn8unQ9AVKAw/s640/January+light2sm.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ahh, the never ending fog has finally cleared, leaving
chilly winter days and bright blue skies.
I love winter’s light near sunset here on the mountain. Everything turns a lovely, warm golden shade,
one last warmth of the sun before night’s fall.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have discovered after the never-ending autumn that I am
out of practice for my winter routine. I
have to remember to change the chicken’s water twice a day, leaving the frozen
container to thaw in my bathtub. I try
giving the chickens extra straw for warmth, but they usually end up kicking it
out of their coop. I’ve never understood
why. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent an awful amount of time looking for my winter gloves
and my boot cleats. Fall lasted through
the end of December this year, unlike last year when winter kicked in by
mid-November. One thing I’ve always
enjoyed about living in Pennsylvania is that I could say it has four distinct
seasons, usually evenly split. Not this
year, not unless winter lasts into April, which seems unlikely, if not
impossible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My bird feeders are seeing more action,
finally. I have yet to see any unusual
species this winter, but even now I’m still hearing migrating geese and have
yet to see many waterfowl. The birds
that summer in the north have been as slow to head south as I have been to
remember what needs to be done during my winter days. I hope we all get it
right before long. </span>Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-16014729041337648822015-12-28T12:31:00.001-05:002015-12-28T12:31:41.027-05:00Geese finally heading south<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4M59PbZ52jx32EWDUnjJA8Mzj1o5z-PnHV18LFTnwPjv9Xn5Ce-i9Ei531HGqCB5ymlye2bV4VWMx-PzSDAa-2AsnjdsYnM0W1szj-YmXEgREQ0EriYcKadxWI1hPezw93y2Eyw/s1600/veryfoggy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4M59PbZ52jx32EWDUnjJA8Mzj1o5z-PnHV18LFTnwPjv9Xn5Ce-i9Ei531HGqCB5ymlye2bV4VWMx-PzSDAa-2AsnjdsYnM0W1szj-YmXEgREQ0EriYcKadxWI1hPezw93y2Eyw/s640/veryfoggy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
Note: This photo was taken yesterday. Today is not foggy, though it's still overcast and the light isn't good so far, for photos today.<br />
<br />
I should have known something was up when I counted 71 Canada geese on Roundtop's largest pond this morning around dawn. The usual count is about 35-38. And the local geese didn't seem too happy to be sharing the space with the new interlopers.<br />
<br />
Since then, and even now as I type this, I hear the sound of Canada geese far overhead. Occasionally I see a flock, hundreds of birds to each one. This is the first time I was sure the geese I was seeing were migrants. They are only two months late. <br />
<br />
I have suspected that a couple of the flocks I'd seen throughout November were migrants but I wasn't entirely sure. Migrating geese are noisy, usually honking the entire time they fly, and except when they are taking off or landing, they usually fly quite high. Sometimes the geese I saw in November were honking like migrants, but they weren't particularly high or there weren't many in a flock. I thought it was possible they were birds up off the Susquehanna River rather than long-distance flyers. But not today. These birds, so far multiple flocks of them, are heading south in full cry.<br />
<br />
No doubt the first blast of semi-wintry weather that's just a few hours away from falling here is the cause. The precipitation will fall as sleet this time, and the weather maps show it edging ever closer to Roundtop. So those geese that have been languishing in the warm northeastern weather have finally decided it's time to move south to avoid the wintry weather. It's about time. Past time. A lot past time.Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-53968470047949943152015-12-23T11:58:00.002-05:002015-12-23T11:58:43.904-05:00Have a foggy, foggy Christmas<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikftkkbv-8YnssWaD66RUdJJ8VEdPM9qxHtI4UTFK03e9UxPPS0X4BcVykUG2m9ojB2ry6NfTNIN4R_1kspR2bYwaNQlKXSpahKec6tAmtXQ5dJ8sTZFkYKPE9RWKChechD8SJ-w/s1600/foggy+treessm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikftkkbv-8YnssWaD66RUdJJ8VEdPM9qxHtI4UTFK03e9UxPPS0X4BcVykUG2m9ojB2ry6NfTNIN4R_1kspR2bYwaNQlKXSpahKec6tAmtXQ5dJ8sTZFkYKPE9RWKChechD8SJ-w/s640/foggy+treessm.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Wait! That’s not how
the song goes.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this is not how
Christmas is supposed to look, either.
But here it is. Foggy and warm
enough to sit out on the porch, if you don’t mind a little drizzle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAA52XTmIJpIOEtW2FwjNayFe8STOPbEioi6ZwNBKmgFgejk84FhhY7wvskpjhQYRMQWW3dNZ2vZ5MqjX-r1xg3V_A2AVvgGd3K6UJdMGzv7qjbPFo4-DyGPtSa4eJcVpBtAnkSw/s1600/foxtailsm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAA52XTmIJpIOEtW2FwjNayFe8STOPbEioi6ZwNBKmgFgejk84FhhY7wvskpjhQYRMQWW3dNZ2vZ5MqjX-r1xg3V_A2AVvgGd3K6UJdMGzv7qjbPFo4-DyGPtSa4eJcVpBtAnkSw/s640/foxtailsm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foxtail with raindrops, like a miniature Christmas tree with bulbs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m already tired of El Nino, which shows no sign of let-up
or allowing winter to return to normal.
I want cold and snow, though it’s hard to argue about the lack of a
heating bill. Still, this is not the
kind of weather that makes me want to put a warm, winter stew over the
fire. It’s not even good hot chocolate
weather.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7q4wesrFH9RyE2ZZwqQm55kBF3FHcPWhHI_G9Gnqmt8BUPyF-HG_oclq-9DLOD2mB133L-bQ_98Ksbxb5AcFmo3UNvY7twEUfGLrjU9X-Fz687tFAjoj0YonFQ-liPLw6yGB5TQ/s1600/foggysm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7q4wesrFH9RyE2ZZwqQm55kBF3FHcPWhHI_G9Gnqmt8BUPyF-HG_oclq-9DLOD2mB133L-bQ_98Ksbxb5AcFmo3UNvY7twEUfGLrjU9X-Fz687tFAjoj0YonFQ-liPLw6yGB5TQ/s640/foggysm.jpg" width="640" /></a>What it is, is about as foggy as it can possibly be. These photos were taken shortly before noon
today, not at dawn or dusk or even first thing in the morning when fog is
usually thickest. No, this is noontime
fog. It’s the kind of fog that makes me
glad I don’t have 100 miles of driving ahead of me today. A quick trip down the mountain and into town
at 35 mph is about as exciting as I want it to be. And 35 mph is about the only safe speed today,
which makes me glad I’m not on an interstate somewhere. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fog for Christmas is a new thing for me, I think. At least I don’t remember any other year with
fog, let alone fog like this. So now I
am back in my cabin, where I plan to stay for the rest of the day, cooking up
the last batch of Christmas cookies and hoping that Christmas day will bring
something other than more fog. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope all of you and yours have a very, <b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Merry</span> <span style="color: #274e13;">Christmas</span></i></span></b> and a great holiday!</div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-48177564759570675452015-12-21T14:12:00.001-05:002015-12-21T14:12:26.487-05:00Hemlocks--still here but under assault<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7VuzPrtRhdlmCOuvc6Ik8vns0ZxWW_zdcGi2TehIdgCdimQ7J5-vvImrXitpnu-0y-Rqvq9zn85aQeBnwCPw-x-wOTAfqTrVld8fLyEkal75pWnJWk__l35lT421YuOuE1OztQ/s1600/tomsrun2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7VuzPrtRhdlmCOuvc6Ik8vns0ZxWW_zdcGi2TehIdgCdimQ7J5-vvImrXitpnu-0y-Rqvq9zn85aQeBnwCPw-x-wOTAfqTrVld8fLyEkal75pWnJWk__l35lT421YuOuE1OztQ/s640/tomsrun2sm.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Holiday preparations clearly are affecting both my writing
and photographic time this week. I love
Christmas, but I am ready for the event itself and for the preparations for the
event to end. I hope that once the
holiday is over, my days will return to normal, so I can spend more time
writing and taking photos again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The photo today was not taken at my cabin but in <b>Michaux
State Forest.</b> This is, I believe, a
little feeder stream into <b>Tom’s Run</b>. It’s
already been a week since I was there and I’m only now downloading the
photos. One thing I noticed on my walk
that day was that live hemlocks, Pennsylvania’s state tree, can still be found
in abundance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The state’s trees are under assault by something called the
wooly adelgid, which sucks fluid from the base of the hemlock needles,
eventually killing the tree. They look a
lot like wooly aphids that can infect houseplants. Like so many other devastating pests, this
one is not native to North America. It
came from Japan, and our native hemlocks have no immunity against it. And like wooly aphids, the pest can be killed
with a soap/oil mixture. Unfortunately,
the preventative needs to be applied at least once a year, not to mention just
how does one spray all the hemlock trees in a forest?
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Currently, the pest is found in 56 of Pennsylvania’s 67
counties. They can kill a tree in 4-10
years without treatment. The state is
moving ahead with the soap/oil treatment and is apparently thinking about
introducing a beetle that can kill the adelgid.
This worries me, as I can only hope the beetle doesn’t end up causing
other problems, as so often happens. The beetles are expensive, too, I’m
told.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The hemlock is a foundation tree in our forests. A healthy
tree supports many other animal and insect species. Clearly, a forest without hemlocks would not
support the same species as a forest with hemlocks. A forest without hemlocks would be an
entirely different ecosystem. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On my walk, I did see some dead hemlocks—most looked to have
been dead for years and may well not have died from this pest. The other hemlocks I saw still appeared
healthy, at least for the moment. I hope they stay healthy. I can’t imagine a Pennsylvania forest without them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-27607257313947308112015-12-15T10:05:00.002-05:002015-12-15T10:05:14.870-05:00No ice, no snow, open water<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVLAR5X_zLLUYXLVUCf9lqn32Ppn0ULlrBv4TU7Z797E_FJa1WGbYPa6PTjLRJl9Cs0wF4UDn6f7ggxT556MvyXLeEZxcOKC2br1wE9C7Kv4LYBu7c5XwiPU5oCSIFEv6yaMDuA/s1600/Pinchot+sunrise2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVLAR5X_zLLUYXLVUCf9lqn32Ppn0ULlrBv4TU7Z797E_FJa1WGbYPa6PTjLRJl9Cs0wF4UDn6f7ggxT556MvyXLeEZxcOKC2br1wE9C7Kv4LYBu7c5XwiPU5oCSIFEv6yaMDuA/s640/Pinchot+sunrise2sm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over Pincho Lake - December 13, 2015</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Non-winter is in place here on Roundtop Mtn. The ski resort hasn’t yet been able to make
snow, as the nighttime temperatures are well above freezing. I haven’t turned on the electric heat in the
cabin, though on a few damp mornings, I had a fire in the fireplace. For the past week I haven’t even needed that.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Birds are not flocking to my feeders. They are apparently still able to find
natural food in the forest. Oh, a few of
them show up in the morning and again in the evening. I think it’s more to
check that food is available than from any real sense of needing it. By this time turkey and black vultures have
usually departed at least some ways to the south. Yesterday, I saw 9 of them twirling around
the top of Roundtop. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
El Nino, the apparent cause of this warm weather, is showing
its impact. How long this
record-breaking, strange weather will last is unknown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, a northwest wind is driving down the temperature,
though it’s still above 50°. The
northern robins, a Labrador subspecies I believe, still forage through the
forest. When I was younger, they were
called woods robins locally, browner and larger than the summer robins that
breed here in that season. I saw a flock
of 14 yesterday. I usually find them by
sound. They tend to hang together in a
loose flock, skimming through the forest.
I see them mostly in the mornings and evenings. Most winters I see them into January, though
they do disappear during the worst of a winter.
In February they often reappear on the first sunny day. They are always
able to find open water—perhaps from a spring-fed pond, a puddle or an open
stream. So far this year, the pickings
are easy and open water is everwhere.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-91463656795257155782015-12-09T20:06:00.000-05:002015-12-09T20:06:01.694-05:00Returning to Camp Michaux<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpOd7IwUiEjkl6HirQifKapilZ4jl2VFnI0OkgwjxvoN5ZLsxmKAqdlax247tvSZ4WoUA_PfQ0tkOBQpxuRAqfEd-GU6vS_al8VDSD8zQ2KnQCNYcMqAyezJi2gojtUpZCZpw7w/s1600/michaux+sign1sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpOd7IwUiEjkl6HirQifKapilZ4jl2VFnI0OkgwjxvoN5ZLsxmKAqdlax247tvSZ4WoUA_PfQ0tkOBQpxuRAqfEd-GU6vS_al8VDSD8zQ2KnQCNYcMqAyezJi2gojtUpZCZpw7w/s640/michaux+sign1sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
On Monday, I decided to return to a spot I hadn’t visited
all year. Michaux State Forest is about
a 17 mile drive between mountains with lots of hiking trails and a couple of
state parks, lakes, reservoirs and lots of hemlock and white pine. It’s mostly undeveloped forest, with some
cabins in areas that are not on state forest land. I love the smell of the pines, especially in
winter or what’s passing for winter so far this December.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70BHIcgRk_WZGCzp09mr6iDxhdmVlfOl_XiqyMs_N3t_PlT1FveS5oH1rByj1QFUWGzBGRKUYcFNZ_G_rHtVWkWJRAugIASZswnLiKYliu-dNvqOHvHgaWyagqVNhHltdeVE0hg/s1600/by+zwingli1sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70BHIcgRk_WZGCzp09mr6iDxhdmVlfOl_XiqyMs_N3t_PlT1FveS5oH1rByj1QFUWGzBGRKUYcFNZ_G_rHtVWkWJRAugIASZswnLiKYliu-dNvqOHvHgaWyagqVNhHltdeVE0hg/s640/by+zwingli1sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stone, moss-covered steps in foreground. Site of Zwingli cabin between the two trees</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One thing I wanted to do was revisit the site of the camp
that I attended as a 'tween and young teenager. Camp
Michaux was first a CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) camp and then a POW camp
during WWII and lastly a church camp from 1946-1972. Sometime not long after the camp closed, they
removed all the buildings, which hadn’t changed since the CCC days—wooden clapboard
barracks with metal bunk beds, an outdoor shower area (discretely fenced), a
dining hall and a swimming pool. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDmRCmXLnKtzl-02RZO8Dx0OUW4qv7SdvMRnCGOlsM50fjtPMBUkVkmyD9XgcgbC9VOqLQSC44smNHf4UkiHUrwxLFpFXvWfJMLPhct7bqVQ0BsUCPGu7sL5N2iXa1UQkQiXajg/s1600/CH+at+Camp+Michaux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDmRCmXLnKtzl-02RZO8Dx0OUW4qv7SdvMRnCGOlsM50fjtPMBUkVkmyD9XgcgbC9VOqLQSC44smNHf4UkiHUrwxLFpFXvWfJMLPhct7bqVQ0BsUCPGu7sL5N2iXa1UQkQiXajg/s640/CH+at+Camp+Michaux.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm in the second row, second girl on the right (white headband)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So it has been about 40 years since the camp was occupied,
and it’s amazing how quickly the forest has reclaimed the area. The two-lane paved road that was the main entrance
to the camp is now covered with pine needles, branches, a few small downed
trees, and the macadam is only visible as a narrow path down the center. The stone steps down to the cabins are filled
with more pine needles and seem more like natural rocks than steps. Even the stone block foundations are barely
visible anymore. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdPApZc42apGWW54twUNWYDFp6DqH8BXM8M5c0pgkgkfgqsXXLI01F4ooQsaRHg7MMq2tS-A4Z7L5xH_AutHu1fgLYzHWYPQwsgot5p-L1JavuXbTMr1S-GdZLlAOOLtqXjcvAw/s1600/Michaaux+drive1sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdPApZc42apGWW54twUNWYDFp6DqH8BXM8M5c0pgkgkfgqsXXLI01F4ooQsaRHg7MMq2tS-A4Z7L5xH_AutHu1fgLYzHWYPQwsgot5p-L1JavuXbTMr1S-GdZLlAOOLtqXjcvAw/s640/Michaaux+drive1sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main "road" into camp. Macadam now mostly invisible</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I walked down what used to be the main camp road
and found the spot where the cabin that I stayed in used to be. Nothing looks particularly familiar anymore,
and I am rather happy about that. I’m
surprised that the reclamation is happening so quickly. I’m happy that the forest is taking over what
was originally its own. At this rate, in
another 20 years or so, even the little I found that remained will be gone, and
nothing will remain but the forest. <br />
<br />
<br />
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-87246381245790767612015-12-02T09:29:00.000-05:002015-12-02T09:29:12.908-05:00Hunkered down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgeO45frWnIHqDQxHcK3KRWRJObS3LDBrMJK8qPrWD1HKv5y8Kx6j6JiubDJOAvjMka7l__dM1B7DOMb5gBJIRtkxzy-cv2iy6Xnjl4aa0VRzJJOlgvPeoGc1Nr75G-61tnyteA/s1600/December12015bsm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgeO45frWnIHqDQxHcK3KRWRJObS3LDBrMJK8qPrWD1HKv5y8Kx6j6JiubDJOAvjMka7l__dM1B7DOMb5gBJIRtkxzy-cv2iy6Xnjl4aa0VRzJJOlgvPeoGc1Nr75G-61tnyteA/s640/December12015bsm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
It’s hard to take photos in a heavy rain, which is why you
haven’t seen many blog posts from me, now that I am mostly recovered from a
hard cold. The rain is accompanied by
low clouds and fog, so the lighting is terrible. Sunrise is now at 7:11 a.m., and with the
rain and overcast skies, the chickens do not arise for a good 30 minutes after
the sun’s alleged rise.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kZRMZm5W8OznxpsrlPREEWK68Fg0z2y5nHAC4mGYPM23Lk_9ldmk5NjCf_oTFKYag4MNIcrkSO3WLyXxmSR9hVtlT9ESgNNFuNB6aZG2qhnsHBVbYxQzVxj5exa9DplOS-L8fg/s1600/December12015sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kZRMZm5W8OznxpsrlPREEWK68Fg0z2y5nHAC4mGYPM23Lk_9ldmk5NjCf_oTFKYag4MNIcrkSO3WLyXxmSR9hVtlT9ESgNNFuNB6aZG2qhnsHBVbYxQzVxj5exa9DplOS-L8fg/s640/December12015sm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I’m lucky, I can find enough light around noon to snap a
quick shot, but they are nothing to write home about. The wet darkens the tree trunks, which would
be a nice effect if the lighting was cooperative, which it isn’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pennsylvania’s rifle deer season started on Saturday, so
traipsing around in the woods, even if the weather was cooperative, is not the
thing to do right now. I heard a lot of
gunfire the first 30 minutes of the season, far less later in the day, and not
more than 1-2 shots since then. The deer
are hunkered down, as much from the rain as the hunters. Most of the hunters I’ve seen are waiting for
the weather to improve before resuming their hunts. My own family hunters reported not seeing a
thing even though we routinely see three buck promenade across the grassy boulevard
that leads down to our pond our at the farm. <o:p></o:p></div>
Here on Roundtop, I saw the old doe this
morning. She lives in a narrow band of
forest between my cabin and my neighbor’s cabin. She is used to hearing the squealing of my
neighbor’s elementary-aged girls and the barking of my dogs. When flushed by one or the other of us, she
just crosses the lane and finds another spot a few feet away. I hope she makes it through doe season in
another week or two. I like having her
around, though she is an old doe who didn’t produce a fawn this season. I like watching her. She is about half-tame, whether from
habituation to us or because her age makes her less inclined to bolt like a
youngster. She would be tough-eating for
a hunter. I am torn between wanting her
around and thinking that perhaps a quick shot would be kinder than a long and
painful decline from age in a harsh winter. Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-66382672663092611522015-11-27T13:52:00.002-05:002015-11-27T13:52:27.767-05:00Old rock, "new" rock<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFd2WMx34w4UMequ3rhicO_KPwCQ9gOpMB6H_4eIP6CuwMRZDfld2P4n4vb2LTWTt1ny_YCKp2Q3RBdB893aFtCtI-_BnVfuY7cAhI9uciPTmzpFle2VMCVWHAi0nCRPbRwU9RQ/s1600/2rockssm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFd2WMx34w4UMequ3rhicO_KPwCQ9gOpMB6H_4eIP6CuwMRZDfld2P4n4vb2LTWTt1ny_YCKp2Q3RBdB893aFtCtI-_BnVfuY7cAhI9uciPTmzpFle2VMCVWHAi0nCRPbRwU9RQ/s640/2rockssm.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My apologies for the lack of posts. I’ve been harboring a cold and have done
little except wrap myself in a blanket and drink gallons of hot tea. I am over the worst of it now and so am
beginning to venture out again, if not venturing very far just yet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An advantage of not
being able to venture too far is that I am looking more closely again at the
forest around my cabin. Today, the
boulders that line the lane and my own front forest caught my attention. In summer the rocks are nearly hidden by
annual growth, and it’s only in the leafless seasons that I can see them well. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Qmqo5xw45ZPSiDIhex6HUuGZJqb6POaKUQI7W6X2EsrK5PqHrIDtGK6VxbuuND71IRkOFHR5Ogg7zk3zHc3TbLoG3k1iI7vPW4RAUE9YqILFSxllNIjnwEDTLqs_3UWvrg1W_Q/s1600/cracked+rocksm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Qmqo5xw45ZPSiDIhex6HUuGZJqb6POaKUQI7W6X2EsrK5PqHrIDtGK6VxbuuND71IRkOFHR5Ogg7zk3zHc3TbLoG3k1iI7vPW4RAUE9YqILFSxllNIjnwEDTLqs_3UWvrg1W_Q/s640/cracked+rocksm.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The weathered and cracked boulders are the most typical of
the rocks here. These are desk-sized rocks
that have been exposed to the elements for who knows how many years. Exposure to ice and rain are doing their best
to break them into the smaller rocks that are even more numerous all around on
the forest floor. These little rocks
were former boulders, still working their way down in size into ever smaller
rocks. The boulders are home to moss and lichens, too. Sometimes a small fern, usually a Christmas
fern, manages to find enough of a foothold to grow in one of the cracks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then I have what I call the “new” rocks. They are not new in the sense of overall age.
Likely, they are as old as any of the other rocks around the mountain. But they are newly exposed to the elements
and so are not yet cracked and worn or split into small pieces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These rocks were exposed less than 50 years ago,
when the lane up the mountain was first built.
My lane is not the first road up the mountain, and it may have even been
created from an older, narrower road that ended at a sadly gone log cabin. (I
was fortunate enough to see that abandoned cabin in the first years I lived
here, before it was damaged by a large tree and then vandalized by late night
partyers.) Today, these newly exposed rocks line the lane. They are smooth and bright, usually
square-ish. Weather has not yet taken
its toll on them and won’t for who knows how many more years. But now that they are exposed to sunlight and
rain, that slow destruction will begin. None of us will see that, of course, and
perhaps humans won’t even be around the earth anymore when that happens. But it will happen. Time is patient.</span>Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-71173538459252677352015-11-18T13:57:00.000-05:002015-11-18T13:57:09.796-05:00Embracing the dreariness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQZnd6RVo3u8_4xIig0TPsoWqkkQf5b5yalJH2Ubeq0HWJ-LgoOi1K87pOowUmSKt-pv1ywWwbhGN3yWKxWct0arriKG-RCTdOCBuMfFoSKYS9ms55Bk0l7JbnbZOUSSbP9J0mw/s1600/foggy+morningsm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQZnd6RVo3u8_4xIig0TPsoWqkkQf5b5yalJH2Ubeq0HWJ-LgoOi1K87pOowUmSKt-pv1ywWwbhGN3yWKxWct0arriKG-RCTdOCBuMfFoSKYS9ms55Bk0l7JbnbZOUSSbP9J0mw/s640/foggy+morningsm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am enjoying a dreary November day. It is a bit foggy and overcast, so the day is
dark. The air is still and the trees are
bare. It’s chilly. I had a fire in the fireplace this morning
and may need one again before long. For now,
I am wrapped comfortably in a wool sweater, my hands warmed by a cup of hot
chocolate. This is how November should
be. At least it’s what I think of when I
think of November. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Novembers should be chilly and raw, not sunny and bright
like an October afternoon. So in an odd
way, the dreariness makes me happy. Today feels like a normal November day,
dreariness and all.<o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-54884957713693879372015-11-12T16:21:00.000-05:002015-11-12T16:21:36.626-05:00Dark and dreary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrlvafd-tdeA4g7VCbi9t1Tgit7_Ihg7Or3LW6uzb2uN32bCly6Ll9bfybHdbg-tro0dn-ixktrzAy-t0mxd3oDqwtbqiqMitV0xn1UD9Lous7BeML8EGbD94Z9jS5iRQlAuyTg/s1600/skye+sparrow+rainasm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrlvafd-tdeA4g7VCbi9t1Tgit7_Ihg7Or3LW6uzb2uN32bCly6Ll9bfybHdbg-tro0dn-ixktrzAy-t0mxd3oDqwtbqiqMitV0xn1UD9Lous7BeML8EGbD94Z9jS5iRQlAuyTg/s640/skye+sparrow+rainasm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was so dark and dreary this morning that I was late
getting up. I kept waiting for some
semblance of daylight to appear, and it never did. A black cloud hung heavily over the mountain,
so even at 7 a.m. I needed a headlamp for a little while, and Doodle the
rooster didn’t crow until almost 7:30 a.m.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The rain, while not heavy, was cold and the breeze blew
little slivers of it onto my face, stinging it.
Even the Shelties were happy to turn around and head back to the cabin
this morning and that has to be a first!
Birds were hunkered down in whatever shelter they could find, but a
great horned owl was still calling just before 8 a.m. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By afternoon, the day improved, and the sky soon filled with
turkey vultures and a pair of red-tailed hawks.
The little birds came out of hiding too.
It is, after all, November and this is how November is supposed to
be. Or even colder, though it’s still
sort of early enough in the month to let that pass for now. Here on my mountain, November is a transition
month. It can be a leaf-less repeat of October,
or it can be winter. So far, this
November is milder than average, but with the coldest part of the month still
ahead, it’s too soon to complain about just how mild it’s going to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead, on this chilly and blustery morning, the dogs got a
bit of a walk. When we returned to the
cabin, we had a fire in the fireplace, and I had a cup of hot chocolate, and
that was enough to scare away the chill. <o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-88463006819221729182015-11-09T14:25:00.000-05:002015-11-09T14:25:03.608-05:00Early morning frost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2I7fD9TlgNQXfv6u6aowNRcseykXScO95vAYdrC_zNgUEXMCeJq67zqZH668rroeVZ5F1vOIsWWTNcX1x4RK4ntz49mMX2-8MZFd5MkJe5lMGJXg-l7LZn4XEsOzcNOBqOaEWw/s1600/frostyleafsm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2I7fD9TlgNQXfv6u6aowNRcseykXScO95vAYdrC_zNgUEXMCeJq67zqZH668rroeVZ5F1vOIsWWTNcX1x4RK4ntz49mMX2-8MZFd5MkJe5lMGJXg-l7LZn4XEsOzcNOBqOaEWw/s640/frostyleafsm.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Roundtop has had both frosts and freezes this fall, but this
morning was the first hard frost where I could get a photo. Even though the temperature was a chilly 27
for a few minutes this morning, as soon as the sun rose above the horizon, the warmup
began. Now, just 3 hours after the early
morning frost, the temperature is already up to 50, and the frost is long gone.
The photos are all that is left.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1blXMHcakkT2L1tRuvH-uHYjS-xBnuIIyqGaGMzBdZHl64y_7C41Wj0Wuqa8sWUuOfLpIa8PqCIWoz9yjcVEa6xINxcFiXLC2cFn3X03EZ2CQjpflcgf2RdkaqXQR6w_gIT4_WQ/s1600/frostysm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1blXMHcakkT2L1tRuvH-uHYjS-xBnuIIyqGaGMzBdZHl64y_7C41Wj0Wuqa8sWUuOfLpIa8PqCIWoz9yjcVEa6xINxcFiXLC2cFn3X03EZ2CQjpflcgf2RdkaqXQR6w_gIT4_WQ/s640/frostysm.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I like the shadow of the rising sun’s rays on the oak
leaf. You just know that frost will be
gone momentarily. The photo captures the
coming warmth of the day in the sun shadows while still showing the result of a
cool night. Most of the leaves are down now.
The few that are left are no longer even bronze but are more like a deep
copper. The color is not much different
than the color of the bark of the trees, so the forest is nearly monochromatic
today. Even so, I find this a pretty
time of year. The long vistas are back.
I can see the mountain to the west, the pond to the north. I can even monitor the chickens’ whereabouts
instead of just hearing their scratching.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can see the sky again, and monitor the coming rain without
having to leave the cabin to find a patch of open sky. Already the air has a chill, nearly raw feel
to it. I was forced to clear as many
leaves off the decks that I can, to avoid a sodden mess when the rain
comes. Likely, my work will only be
partly successful, as more leaves are already coming down. I hope the most of them are removed, but one
good wind gust before the rain will be enough to negate my work. <o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891819.post-13859607466268328232015-11-05T20:43:00.001-05:002015-11-05T20:43:19.111-05:00November's forest light<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz0IfOAPE2ruEAlg8tynXCAxusdUlnzyoFpBiLj64qPATFrqpom2d2zIOPf8KeJ-P1-15RDJjj67khpAGUT7ObnijdQymtxehH6HmHmIbBlHfBV6ix_u-0VQUCAjAZDd2RD0Wtw/s1600/RT+Nov4asm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz0IfOAPE2ruEAlg8tynXCAxusdUlnzyoFpBiLj64qPATFrqpom2d2zIOPf8KeJ-P1-15RDJjj67khpAGUT7ObnijdQymtxehH6HmHmIbBlHfBV6ix_u-0VQUCAjAZDd2RD0Wtw/s640/RT+Nov4asm.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first few days of November have been atypically warm,
more like mid-October than the blustery weather that is more expected. I find it hard to complain much about 70
degree weather and gorgeous late fall light.
The fall colors that remain have faded from brilliant yellows and reds
into shades of bronze, but the mountains are still beautiful.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKFrXthGh-v571HP458Yi2g4pSMoAUjA_gc5Gg3fanW0SaU-xzxRwqPeuEETONjlRlWluiwrAWzjD5jZUBOLxRHIoOpQ7KZEC9m_waRhKOSlwSS5FCHTitI827IqS0ZEqQJhxRA/s1600/November+4+2015asm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKFrXthGh-v571HP458Yi2g4pSMoAUjA_gc5Gg3fanW0SaU-xzxRwqPeuEETONjlRlWluiwrAWzjD5jZUBOLxRHIoOpQ7KZEC9m_waRhKOSlwSS5FCHTitI827IqS0ZEqQJhxRA/s400/November+4+2015asm.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The leaves of summer now litter the forest floor, and it is
impossible to walk quietly. The leaves,
as yet undampened, are as crunchy as crumpled paper and as light and airy as
snowflakes. The Shelties are belly-deep
in leaves, and they are above ankle deep for me. So it is difficult on this rare November day
to grouse about temperatures so far above normal. Instead, I simply enjoy the afternoon,
marveling in the golden shades of light.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So many leaves are off the trees now that for the first
time, I can see the mountain to the west of me, though it is not yet as clear a
view as I will have when all the leaves are down. I can see partway down the mountain, now, and
the porchlight from across the valley bobs in and out of view at night with
every slight breeze.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The sweet little fawns of summer have no clue about the
winter ahead or the fall hunting seasons.
They stand still as I drive by, Baby Dog hanging out a rear window
staring at them. But she doesn’t bark
and the now spotless fawns don’t flee. A
few birds of summer remain or perhaps they are birds that nested much further
north than here that have now reached this area in their flight south. A palm warbler, about the same color as its
surroundings, pops up among a host of goldfinch, juncos and song sparrows. We stare at each other for a second or two
and then it is off. I hope the warm
weather is an aid to its southbound journey and that its travels are safe. <o:p></o:p></div>
Carolyn Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03179182853082650546noreply@blogger.com3