Freeze, thaw, repeat, and again ...

The outdoor Christmas lights have been hung with care. And then adjusted. And adjusted again. The Better Half has more patience for that kind of thing, so I follow her lead and judgement. Runny Babbitt had no patience for the racket we were making with ladders and such and bolted from under the front porch. Later today, as the light fades toward dusk or dark, we'll see about taking a picture or two of the lights. If I were the only one putting them up, it's doubtful pictures would be worthwhile, except as a bad example.

Northern red oak leaves

Photo by J. Harrington

There's lots of oak leaves frozen in place on the drive and in the roof gutters. If things thaw enough today or tomorrow, we'll see if we can clear out and clean up some of the out of place leaves. Or, maybe we'll wait to try and see if the forecast rain loosens things. The portable fire pit was frozen in place this morning. Today's thaw let us move it this afternoon. As with many things in life, timing can be everything. Meanwhile, we discovered this morning that some of the local mice, or more likely squirrels, have been sitting on the tractor foot deck and munching acorns. At least that's what we think we saw today, and none of the fine powdery residues were there yesterday. Soon we need to see if anyone's trying (again) to nest in the dashboard.

it's bad enough to have mice nesting in the bird houses

Photo by J. Harrington

The sunshine, blue skies and outside chores made for a pleasant morning. Would that we had more days like this, including both pleasant weather and at least a limited sense of accomplishment. We spend too many days feeling as though all we've done is move things from one stack to another. Then again, think about the birds and the bees and the grass and the trees. What do they accomplish day in and day out? They sustain life, procreate and raise replacements of themselves, and return to earth. Have we humans become overly ambitious? It seems to me some of these questions underlie our need to do a major reset in our global economy. It makes no sense to try to enhance a fundamentally unsustainable system, and that's what perpetual growth on a finite planet represents. Even the never-ending fall of oak leaves isn't really. And fallen leaves nurture critters and return to earth. As Joni Mitchell has written "And the seasons, they go round and round ..." ("Circle Game"). This thanksgiving season, are you thankful we're made of stardust ? (Joni, again, "Woodstock" this time.)

God Particles

By James Crews

I could almost hear their soft collisions 

on the cold air today, but when I came in,

shed my layers and stood alone by the fire, 

I felt them float toward me like spores

flung far from their source, having crossed 

miles of oceans and fields unknown to most

just to keep my body fixed to its place 

on the earth. Call them God if you must,

these messengers that bring hard evidence 

of what I once was and where I have been—

filling me with bits of stardust, whaleskin, 

goosedown from the pillow where Einstein

once slept, tucked in his cottage in New Jersey, 

dreaming of things I know I’ll never see.

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