Friday, November 08, 2013
The bulk of yesterday was dominated by a gray mass of storm clouds that dumped rain at frequent intervals. I drove alternately through bursts of rain splatters and swirling leaves. Just before sunset the wind tattered the clouds and blew them eastward, letting pure gold light gild the treetops as the sun melted down to kiss the pond. Then the whole sky blushed scarlet. The temperature dipped into the low 30s overnight and today's high did not reach above the high 40s.
I have been out of doors in the wind and sunshine and the occasional snowflake, readying the garden beds for winter. I clipped back the dead stalks of phlox and bee balm, picked the last tiny rosebuds to tuck in a vase on the kitchen windowsill, and pulled the dead tomato and pepper vines. The patio chairs are stored in the garage, the umbrella has been folded away. The forsythia still has its leaves; when they fall things will begin to look winter-stark.
Birds frequent the feeder morning and afternoon. Earlier, a large jay perched precariously on the top of the slender shepherd's crook and yelled as he teetered, but he didn't keep the busy finches at bay for long. All winter long the small seed feeders that winter over here will come to eat. Soon it will be time to put out the suet cakes for the nuthatches and woodpeckers. The view from my window is better than TV.
Geese are gathering by the hundreds on the pond across the road from the cottage. Already I've seen several large flocks headed south. They call to one another and then rise as one above the water, circling once before beating their way high into the blue. Soon the only sounds will be the wind and the hush a million snowflakes make tumbling over each other - possibly as early as the middle of next week. Over and over the great seasonal wheel turns.