all hallow's eve

a quiet, uneventful halloween with no trick-or-treaters, save one - a cute little bee with striped tights and pipe cleaner antennae. since it was the end of her halloween escapades, she stayed to warm up with a soup and bread dinner, as did her parents. pretty interesting to hear about halloween as seen through the eyes of a three year old.

not that i want to wish time away, but i'm glad to see october end tonight. october is so glorious and beautiful and special, but november is the time i look forward to all year. so good-bye, october. happy halloween, everyone.

muted beauty

here's the last saturday in october - with autumn foliage long since past its peak color, but still dazzling in spots, especially against a cold, grey sky like this morning's.

rising mist

just in time for halloween, spooky mist

rises over the river on the twilight ride home.

politics

must political signs be this big? do politicians think i can't see them littering the lanscape so they just made them larger? do they honestly think that, after weeks and weeks of looking at roadways lined for miles with standard size vote-for-me signs, i'll think about voting for the candidate whose sign is the most detracting from the natural environment, the biggest eyesore? with this election, i'm noticing more and more of these oversized signs. i'm not impressed and i'll sure be glad to see them gone. ten more days til the new england countryside reverts to natural.

that said, don't forget to vote on november 2nd - oh wait, how could you forget? the signs reminding you are everywhere!

autumn chill

early morning was again frosty and cold, with ice on the windshield and snow(!) pellets on the roof. all through the day i watched from windows as flakes drifted from the sky and clouds careened overhead. but at leaving time, the sky had cleared, the sun shone brightly, and the air was biting cold with the feel of winter. back home, i put on a sweater and heated some cider to warm me. it was that kind of day...

first frost

overnight, our first good frost, the kind that edges grasses and fallen leaves and makes the landscape look ethereal and sparkling white in the dim morning light. here, it covers the down of a grounded milkweed seed with thousands of drops of hoary crystals.

fall into the kitchen

what is it about fall that makes me so drastically alter the way i cook? here's the weekend's dinner, pot roast with carrots, that will be consumed several more times this week along with the garlic mashed potatoes not shown. and now this morning i am up early to put a roasting chicken in the crockpot. summer evenings were spent cooking on the fly, grilling lean meats and fish and concocting salads with vegetables from the garden. what is it about cooler weather that makes that change? certainly it's not a matter of time as i have more of that in the summer. is it just me??

and then there's baking - apple crisp, pumpkin bread, oatmeal raisin cookies... those never happen in the summer!

the lump in my throat

from the first early morning rescue to tonight's thirty-third and final recovery, i've found myself today either blinking back tears or weeping outright, wide-eyed and silent. what amazing resilience on the parts of so many people - governments, rescue teams, families, and especially miners. very thankful tonight that the rescue efforts in chile were so wondrously successful.

peak foliage

this is the color we wait for from early september on.

this is as good as it gets. and it's just breathtaking.

the perfect ten

on 10-10-10, it's the perfect fall day in the perfect fall weekend. apple festivals and craft fairs, foliage and wood smoke, pumpkins from the garden, butternut squash soup and hearty breads for supper. a frost last night gives the morning air that crisp coldness that lingers on your cheeks even after you go back into the warmth of the kitchen. this vibrant time of year is when i'm most thankful to be exactly where i am right now.

for the soul

there are moments when the sunshine and the north wind beckon, when the colors in the hills blind you to all that needs doing below, when you just need to be out and away from all that is worrisome or vexing or even mundane. so you go, leaving the work and the world behind - and don't even feel guilty about it.

c is for comfort

for lots of reasons that seem much less important tonight, today was not my best day. and here is the homemade cookie (minus the bite) with which my friend nancy surprised me this afternoon. it was a small offering but it made me smile and feel better and was one of the nicest things that happened to me all day. it was the kind of simple gesture that makes me want to pay it forward.

bah humbug 2010

today, october 2nd, the first day it's been chilly enough here to refer to the day as a typical fall one, i turn a corner in a large department store to view this: christmas 2010.

in a "normal" year, i notice holiday magazines have hit the newsstand by columbus day weekend. close to halloween, i typically hear the first too-early holiday music emanating from the tv in the living room as it plays in the background for a christmas promotion. but to have christmas this blatantly in my sight at the beginning of october is just wrong!

by my calculations, this display will be out for one-quarter of the year. at least they waited until i had a sweatshirt and socks on before they put it up.

soooo close

tonight i went to a dinner meeting for a local association. at the end of the evening, there was a raffle for a brand new iPad. the winning number was 9768826! not only did i lose by one number, it was the final number. the winner - my tablemate and good friend eric, who works with iPad-using students for a living. where's the justice, i ask you?

on a related note, in another raffle i did win something, just yesterday. it's a $25 gift certificate for the home heating oil - but i burn wood and gas.

literally, i can't win.

window walker

tonight crawling up my window, i find this tiny frog, suction-ish feet firmly planted on the slick glass. if it's flies he's looking for, he's come to the right place. there's even a spider web out there for the insects. he's a determined creature, and i watch as he climbs to the top of the window. why he doesn't backslide on such a slippery, vertical surface, i do not know.

equinox 2010

other years i've missed it, this changing of the seasons. i've looked up from my work or i've sped around a corner and been jolted to see that fall has come on so quickly while i was busy with other things. but this year, i've noticed. i've watched color creep in a bit at a time, each day a little less green and a little more vibrant. i've felt the subtle change in air, the cool northern undertones of the breeze. i've seen the morning light slanting at a new angle as it filters in through windows. i'm watching it happen.

today autumn thinks it's here. but i can tell it's still coming.

shine on, harvest moon

the full september moon, risen just after dusk. the harvest moon, it was called, since its radiance gave farmers extended hours of light to harvest their crops at the end of the growing season. moonlight floods the yard hours later as i type this. i swear i could see from my window anything that happened to be out there.

since it was dark from photography standards, this was a long exposure. and serendipity prevailed as a car happened to pass by while the shutter was open.

unnoticed

a small flower going to seed in front of the stone wall. what i didn't see was the insects marching up the stem. once again, the macro lens, as inferior as it is, sees what the eye cannot.

monarch

perhaps i just haven't had time to notice, but this is the first monarch butterfly i've seen this year. on this overcast, cool morning, he was lingering in the yard, flying clumsily from flower to flower, and i wondered if he had only recently emerged from his chrysalis. i watched him for a long while, striking orange against the green leaves and golden flowers, until he flitted upward and flew away.

fall cleaning

glorious saturday weather inspired me not to go out, but to stay home and clean. streaming saturday morning radio and a whole pot of coffee helped me to tackle big areas that had been neglected for too long. it felt good to be productive, to see progress, and to be doing something non-work related. behold the messiest area of my house, a pantry area off the kitchen, now clean and organized. if i had that printer i talked about earlier this week, i'd frame this photo and put it center shelf to remind me to keep this area as orderly as it finally is now.

actual vs virtual

i never print my photos. oh sure, i take my memory card to the drugstore and print off pictures of the little girl to send to the relatives down south. but, other than that, i just don't print my photographs. they're on the web. why bother?

but this summer, i tried my hand at notecard making at the urging of a friend. today my online order finally arrived. i am astonished at the difference between the printed photos and the computer ones. there's a depth and clarity on paper that i just don't see on the screen. i feel like i'm seeing them all over again for the first time and it's almost mesmerizing.

why are they so different, i wonder? perhaps i need to go purchase a printer!

overnight guest

one of the perks of babysitting overnight is breakfast pancakes made by the little girl, apron and all. one of the down sides, however, is the hour at which this happens. sunday morning at 7 a.m. is my roll-over-and-go-back-to-sleep time, not a time to be blurry-eyed and groggy as i eat the best pancakes in the whole world.

ka-boom berries!

for a few days now, i've been trying to identify these berries, which are scattered all over the driveway at work. elderberry, i guessed. a type of cherry, emailed my friend barry. i may never know their true identity, but it makes no difference. from now on, they will always be known here as "firecracker berries", due to the surprising, exploding sounds they made as my feet and my tires slowly crept over them in an effort to snap this photo. so loud was the sound, i didn't associate it with the berries right away. and it sounded so funny, i ran over them a few times more, just to hear it!

late summer note to self

next year, buy established morning glory plants and forget the frugal notion of starting them from seed. however easy they are to grow, it's just not worth it to have to wait until september for the first flower to appear. even if the lovely blue is better late than never.

season's change

labor day traditionally marks the end of summer here. as much as i look forward to autumn's blaze of color and the chill and coziness of fall, i am sorry to see this summer end. there have been so many memorable moments with friends and family, so many instances of profound peace and stillness, that it's bittersweet to let it all go and move on.

one of those midsummer memories is depicted here...a twilight shot of candles glowing in a beach house window, taken under emerging stars while the muffled laughter of my family inside mingles with the sound of the waves on the beach. i hold that quiet moment in my mind and in my heart - until summer returns again.

as good as new

for reasons i won't go into, i need a large amount of shiny pennies. now, pennies i have - and lots of them. but they are old and worn and grimy with age. the bank could not supply me with the shiny new coins i need. in desperation, i set about to clean my old penny collection. lemon juice and salt in a jar with the pennies, shaken a few times, and rinsed. and voilà! the smell emanating from the jar upon opening is no longer lemony and actually smells a lot like a bad egg. but look how shiny my pennies are now!

paradox

there are morning people and there are night people and i am the latter. i love the quiet of night, the stars, the finality and feeling of accomplishment that comes at the end of the day. but when i sleepily look up to sights like this one, first light filtering through leaves and magically illuminating spots far into the forest, i am in awe. and it makes me wish yet again that i could be a morning person.

first september

red leaves
red tomatoes
red holly
now, red crabapples.
september's here.

anniversary

today is the anniversary of my parents' wedding sixty-three years ago. i miss them both and always will. this is my mother's wedding ring, which i wear in her memory.

going home again

over the weekend, after a visit with relatives, i took a side trip through the small town where i grew up. it's still hard to believe i have no connections left to a place that leaves me with such wonderful memories.

holly

sitting in the window with a second cup of coffee, working here one last summer morning, i look out to see the holly berries, once glossy green in the june sun, now tinged with orange on their way to winter red. summer's fading. autumn looms.

too much of a good thing

many years, there are no tomatoes at all. sometimes, there have been small disappointing green ones to pick just before the first frost of september. in good years, there have been a few small red ones towards the end of august that get shared with critters and hornworms. but this year, there are tomatoes! the garden shimmers red with them as i pluck the heavy fruits from the plants. never have i canned, only served tomatoes sliced thick with basil, oil, and mozzarella or cut up in a garden salad. but this year, there's no keeping up with the crop! gazpacho, anyone?

back to school

it's the last day of summer vacation. even the sky weeps. but secretly, i am filled with a sense of excitement and anticipation at the thought of a new year. this has happened to me every year since i was in first grade. wouldn't you think it would be old hat by now?

sunflower!

after several years of fruitlessly planting the tiny seeds, finally i have a sunflower - and another one coming! i'm looking forward to finches feeding on the seed heads in a few weeks time. the little girl has measured the plant against her own height all summer long. she says it's called a sunflower because it's bigger than the sun!

à bientôt

a lovely extended weekend with friends comes to an end all too soon. it's been a quiet time of visiting, reminiscing, resting and regrouping. the end of summer stillness that my mind and soul needed. i am so thankful for this time, this place and especially, for these people.

garden tour

this place is so far north it has a very short growing season. yet some folks here have the most beautiful flowers and the most amazing vegetables. a visit to the garden at helen's yielded beans, cabbage, carrots, and a pepper. and more tiny seeds from spent poppy pods to try growing again next season.

ocean birds

bird watching on the coast can be so calming. here gulls squawk and soar and drift on the air singly or in large flocks. they stand at attention on the rocky shore, surveying their ocean domain as they wait for fishing boats to pass. last night at sunset, a never ending mass of hundreds of gulls streamed toward the west and the setting sun. and sometimes, if i'm lucky, i see other birds here, like herons or terns or this cormorant, pictured below with his gull friends.

maine moon

my final summertime hurrah, visiting a friend who lives on the coast in a northernmost part of new england. this is the view from her porch on this warm august night, with the crescent moon and venus both setting in the evening sky over the reach.

treasured

this old green cardboard strip glued with dried leaves is a bookmark the girl made for me when she was very, very small. i treasure this creation and have always used it to mark my place in whatever fictional work i'm reading.

and two weeks ago, i lost the book i've been reading - along with the bookmark. i looked everywhere for the book, retracing my steps, checking in stores and businesses, pulling up cushions and reaching under seats. tonight in desperation, i came close to sending a mass message out to all my friends to watch for it, please. but just now, just as i was readying for bed (and another book-less night) i thought where it might possibly be - and happily, there it was!

it seems a tad silly to be so elated to have found it! after all, the book is only worth $14.95 and i've already downloaded the audio version. but that bookmark - that's absolutely priceless!

famous last words

over the weekend, i saw this in a cemetery. when my time finally comes, i'd love to leave behind words like this. words that make even a stranger laugh out loud and smile days later, thinking that the deceased must have really been quite a gal.

weekend away

a lovely summer weekend spent with family at the beach just across the harbor from the city of boston. the lighthouse above is boston light, originally lit with candles in the 1700s when it was built and now powered by a windmill! below, the most unusual weathervane i saw while i was there. isn't she beautiful?

corn in the morn

on most august days, i drive by this cornfield on the way to the local farm stand to buy the day's produce. sometimes it's tomatoes or peaches or lettuce or blueberries, but always, it is corn. the season for corn is so brief here that we tend to indulge in it every day that we can. and then never again, not until the following year, in august when corn season returns once more.

not-so-quiet cricket

i have been quietly busy interacting with children's books these august days. it's solitary work and there's a certain rhythm to the task that is, at times, quite calming. so imagine how startled i was tonight when this book began to chirp at me! chirp! a tiny mechanism inside the back cover mimics the sound of the cricket depicted in the story. and i didn't even realize it was there! how delightful that books can engage small children with sound as well as story! the little girl is going to love this one!

first of august

oh no!

not yet!

it's only august first and there's still another whole month of summer!