Saturday, October 3, 2015

Variations on a theme

While walking one of the dogs the other afternoon, I noticed this season's first woollybear caterpillar [not the one pictured] trundling along the road side. It had a very broad red band. Mild Winter coming? I'll keep watching for more and let you know if I see a trend.

More and better info on woollybears. Thanks, Molly! [See comments]

woollybear caterpillar
woollybear caterpillar
Photo by J. Harrington

Most of this year's chrysthanthemums have gone to that big garden in the sky. I'm not sure why. Their space has been filled for a couple of days now with a few pumpkins along the driveway. The deer haven't yet discovered them. Two years ago the nibbling started in late October and lasted into November. Last year we had a home wedding and the flowers and pumpkins really enhanced the place. The deer stayed away. October usually brings lots of variations on the theme of Autumn. This year's show is just starting.

pumpkins chewed by whitetail deer
pumpkins chewed by whitetail deer
Photo by J. Harrington

[UPDATES]:
Some of the concepts proposed in My Minnesota's systems visions show up occasionally in the blogs listed on the sidebar. Others originated from reading print resources or online materials. In this section from time to time we'll flag newer reports that, at least in part, support systems visions proposed here. If we come across any that materially undermine our proposals, we'll also note them.

ENERGY VISION
INFRASTRUCTURE VISION

October

By Robert Frost 
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.


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