A close-up of a yew branch.
Deep snow always reminds me of growing up in the North Country, near the Canadian border. Warm feelings for cold white stuff!
This morning, the view from the front porch looked like this:
Looking out my mother’s window I spied this blue jay with feathers all puffed up, taking shelter in the rhododendron bush from the snow and wind.
Then there was the process of clearing the driveway, making paths to the doors, and clearing snow off the car.
Just now a gorgeous cardinal couple perched in the same rhododendron, but no photo – I couldn’t get the camera in time.
I love the slow pace of a snow day, grateful I have no place I must go by vehicle.Walking is a different matter – a walk is in my future, this afternoon. My new camera will be in my pocket.
To segue from the Halloween posts, here are the pumpkins on the compost heap, surrounded by a dusting of our first snow of the season.
We enjoyed a cozy cuppa in Ralph’s Café, with fat flakes filling the air outside the window.
And so it begins.
Given today’s weather, it’s odd to think that just yesterday Seth took this photo of his shadow in the late afternoon sunshine.
Scenes from this small-town life.
This evening the Barnum and Bailey circus train rolled slowly through town.
Over the weekend,
the alpaca grazed in autumn pastures, while
the Kline Kill beckoned under golden sycamores.
And this afternoon,
the painting of the barn was completed.
Life is good.
(All photos by Seth Rockmuller.)
The work has started on painting the barn. First is the scraping of the old, peeling paint. I hope the warm weather holds long enough for the actual painting! A few of my more delicate plants were touched by frost last night. Autumn is upon us.
These words arrived from a friend: “…when I attempt to be productive in the traditional sense, it seems as if I am hiding in busyness and running away from the heart of my being.” Her words struck me – yes! Because I am the caretaker of my elderly mother, some of my “busy-ness” cannot be avoided. But there are tasks I do that others could do just as well, if not better than I, and those I am in the process of releasing.
Like my friend, I wish to devote more time to contemplation, and to writing. Early autumn always feels like a slowing down time for me, before the Thanksgiving and holiday rush and visitors. Already I sense the busy-ness of the approaching holidays, as I help plan for the community’s multifaith Thanksgiving service.
On the walls of the barn, the old is being scraped away, in preparation for the new paint. What else is awaiting release and renewal?