Will Winter be wild and woolly? #phenology

Short posting today. We spent the morning catching up on field work chores and this afternoon got interrupted by a request to assist with the dogs belonging to the Daughter Person and Son-In-Law. The house/dog sitter got tied up at work and considerately asked if we could let the dogs out so they didn't have to hang around with their legs crossed. More chores tomorrow, weather permitting.

To be candid, we're being assisted by the Better Half with a number of deferred chores that, year to year, didn't seem to need attention until, all of a sudden, the benignly-neglected maintenance became overwhelming. Some of what we want to attend to will be better done come November, like pruning those oak branches that are hindering access to buckthorn we want to pull. Getting organized to do two or three branches every Autumn didn't seem worth the trouble. Several years later we're cursing where all the dead branches came from. But enough of that.

woollybear caterpillar on porch screen

Photo by J. Harrington

It's getting to be the time of year to watch for woollybear caterpillars. That's one of our favorite folklorish things to do each Autumn, regardless of whether the Winter is more or less comparable to what the woolybear foretold. We're not aware of any woollybear festivals in Minnesota, but maybe we missed one? Just remember, we're looking for wide rusty brown middles for a mild Winter.

We traveled the internet to Scotland to find today's poem about the

Woolly Bear 

by Valerie Gillies

Woolly, woolly bear
Who feeds on the weeds,
Hurry furry chestnut,
Move at speed.

Wee hairy wobat
Warming in the sun,
On curlywurly loops
Many feet run.

By dandelion and nettle
Wriggly-squiggly crawl,
When you are touched,
Curl up in a ball.

Woolly, woolly bear,
Ginger-beer froth,
Vanish and change
Into a tiger moth.

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