'Tis the season for "if you don't like it, wait a minute"

Gusts of Southerly wind are stripping oak branches of their remaining leaves and sending them sailing across rare, sunny, blue skies. Those that end up in the bird bath leave green stains, like the chalk lines that indicate where the body lay. The bird bath has been cleaned and refilled. The sunflower seed feeder has been refilled. The neighborhood's chickadees, nuthatches, goldfinches, red-bellied, hairy and downy woodpeckers all see happy as they frantically arrive, grab a seed and head for their caches. It looks like Runny Babbit has decided to spend this Winter ensconced under the front porch. We almost stepped on her/him the other day as we went to see if the mail had been delivered yet. S/he scooted out from under the bottom stair just as we stepped off of it. The dog, SiSi, that was with us to show the way to the mail box and back, never batted an eyelash. Clearly, SiSi doesn't associate live Runny Babbits with food or her reaction would have been entirely different. Looking over the pictures we've taken, it appears that we've provided homes to several generations of Runnys. We like it better when they live in the brush piles but they never ask before setting up house.

one of our Runny Babbits in Summer

Photo by J. Harrington

So far today we've seen two versions of weather forecasts for the day or so before Thanksgiving. One version  offers the possibility of a major storm with the prospect of significant snow, the other indicates relatively smooth sailing. The last time we checked, we were unable to affect or influence the weather (unless we're planning an outdoor activity that requires good weather) so we'll just wait and see what happens. Meanwhile, this weekend should have Christmas lights put up and, possibly, front porch greenery installed. We were pushing the Better Half today to pick out a Christmas tree but we may be a week or more early on that. Do you remember the song about "Christmas Don't Be Late" by The Chipmunks? That's kind of the mode we're in today. Even though there's weeks to get it all done, we feel as if there's no where near the time needed because "Holidays." Maybe a few more days of blue skies and sunshine will help. Maybe I need some Christmas cookies, or Thanksgiving cookies, or any cookies! Sugar = energy for the Holidays!

time yet for Christmas cookies?

Photo by J. Harrington

First Snow

Arthur Sze - 1950-

                A rabbit has stopped on the gravel driveway:
                           imbibing the silence,
                           you stare at spruce needles:
                                                  there’s no sound of a leaf blower,
                                                  no sign of a black bear;
                a few weeks ago, a buck scraped his rack
                           against an aspen trunk;
                           a carpenter scribed a plank along a curved stone                                                   wall.                 
                                       You only spot the rabbit’s ears and tail:
                when it moves, you locate it against speckled gravel,
                but when it stops, it blends in again;
                           the world of being is like this gravel:
                                      you think you own a car, a house,
                                      this blue-zigzagged shirt, but you just borrow                                                   these things.                 
                Yesterday, you constructed an aqueduct of dreams
                                      and stood at Gibraltar,
                                                             but you possess nothing.
                Snow melts into a pool of clear water;
                           and, in this stillness,
                                       starlight behind daylight wherever you gaze.

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