Mist-defying moon #phenology

This morning's full moon shone brightly on local mist-covered fields. Some call it the sturgeon moon, others, the ricing moon, the corn moon or the red moon. Names often derive from what's important in the place from which the moon is seen. You can explore for yourself by looking here or here or here. Truth can be found in many forms.

Full August moon on mist-covered fields

Photo by J. Harrington

I felt at home and comfortable surrounded by ghostly mist while walking the dog this morning, probably because I grew up with frequent fog on the East coast. On land there was usually a yellow or white line to follow along the road, or at least a shoulder or ditch to track. On the water things got more interesting and you trusted your compass and your ears before your eyes, and wished you could afford a radar unit and a bigger boat to go with it. Listening to an approaching motor on a boat you couldn't see but hoped wasn't bearing down on you set nerves and teeth on edge. Field-walking is a comparative piece of cake.

2015 acorn crop

Photo by J. Harrington

All the moisture we got this Summer doesn't seem to have done anything good for this year's acorn crop. I've read that some years are much better for mast than others and last year compared to this seems to prove it. Maybe it's just a few trees around the house that are so sparse, but I fear it may be a hungry Winter around here for the squirrels, turkeys and whitetails.

In Mist

By Laura Sherry

From “Ridge People” WHEN you can see the ground’s breath, And the sky goes muggy And drops before the world Like a perspiring window-glass; When beasts and humans creep to cover         5 And the steam-boats speak fog-language; The farm buildings sit still Folding their hands As if they hadn’t a thing in the world to do. A chimney’s belch smudges into nothing;         10 The earth’s breath noses around the roots of trees; Heaven-mist seeps through branches And wraps the country’s heart.

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