An equinox mystery

Here in the North Country, on this first day of astrological Autumn, the mid-afternoon temperature is 81℉. Tomorrow and Friday are also forecast to exceed 80℉. Unseasonably warm temperatures depend on what's considered seasonable. (Did I just make up a word?) The normal high temperature for today has dropped to 69℉ but we've reached a record high of 95℉ back in 1936 and, for tomorrow, the record of 90℉ was attained three times during a period of record going back to at least the late 1800's. But all of that is just records and numbers, not a mystery.

who left the bloodstains on the door to the deck?

Photo by J. Harrington

Today's mystery is "who left the bloodstains on the outside of our walkout door to the deck?" They spread from about knee-high down to almost the bottom of the door. There's no blood stains on the deck itself that we can find. Our unsubstantiated speculation is that, during the night an owl, or at dawn this morning a hawk, captured one of the abundant red or gray squirrels that keep raiding the bird feeders. There were no indications from the dogs that something was amiss so it's far from clear who or what else might have left a blood trail only on the door. We certainly hope it's not an omen of any sort.

By the end of this week we'll be down to less than 12 hours of daylight, entering, quite literally, dark times. By Thanksgiving day we'll enjoy slightly more than 9 hours of daylight. Then comes Winter Solstice and Christmas when, locally, daylight will have diminished to about 8¾ hours, but, shortly thereafter the days will again begin to lengthen. So, what will you be doing between now and when the votes are all counted to be sure you have at least something for which to be thankful in late November and for which to be grateful and to celebrate come Solstice and the longer, hopefully brighter, days to follow. Remember, although all of life is political, politics aren't all of life.

Ghazal: The Dark Times

Marilyn Hacker - 1942-

Tell us that line again, the thing about the dark times…
“When the dark times come, we will sing about the dark times.”

They’ll always be wrong about peace when they’re wrong about justice…
Were you wrong, were you right, insisting about the dark times?

The traditional fears, the habitual tropes of exclusion
Like ominous menhirs, close into their ring about the dark times.

Naysayers in sequins or tweeds, libertine or ascetic
Find a sensual frisson in what they’d call bling about the dark times.

Some of the young can project themselves into a Marshall Plan future
Where they laugh and link arms, reminiscing about the dark times.

From every spot-lit glitz tower with armed guards around it
Some huckster pronounces his fiats, self-sacralized king, about the dark times.

In a tent, in a queue, near barbed wire, in a shipping container,
Please remember ya akhy, we too know something about the dark times.

Sindbad’s roc, or Ganymede’s eagle, some bird of rapacious ill omen
From bleak skies descends, and wraps an enveloping wing about the dark times.

You come home from your meeting, your clinic, make coffee and look in the mirror
And ask yourself once more what you did to bring about the dark times.

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