March Goal, a Month of Posts

Posting each day?? A lofty goal since I've let my blog posts dry up for longer than I even want to know!

Today's word is "tenebrous".  Pretty much the way our skies have looked for the past couple of days as the storms rolled in.  Not today though!

 

Today's March came in with glorious sunshine and relatively warm temperatures considering that the tail end of February brought lavish amounts of snowfall to the Sierra Nevada.  So, I think I'm crediting March with a Lamb entrance even though there's snow piled up everywhere and icicles have made a drippy-droppy appearance.

Tonight the western sky is treating us to the sight of Venus and Jupiter "kissing".  It's a lovely way to end the day.

 

Thoughts from a girl with a leaf rake

I raked leaves today.  The sound a leaf rake makes is characteristic of autumn to me.  A metallic scratchiness as I gathered cherry leaves that fell today onto our brick patio.  Quieter on the lawn as I raked a random collection of leaves into a pile. When I switched from my metal rake to a slim rake with plastic tines as I attempted to clear apple leaves that have begun falling into the raspberry bed, it was so quiet that I could hear other leaves falling in the yard and a few swirls of leaves as the breeze moved them along paths predetermined by physics.  No power needed to fuel my rake beyond a few calories I could easily spare.  No blast of noise to be heard a block away.   

I raked leaves today.  Not for the first time this season.  These leaves are destined to be mulched and added to our compost pile.  All that energy wasn't going into body bags headed into the landfill.  These leaves were my yearly "brown" treasure to balance the "green" contribution to compost. Yeah, there were some bags that went curbside last week when the compost bin seemed full.  But a week and a soaking rainstorm has settled it enough that I can see there's room for more.  These leaves will become a rich, dark, organic addition spread throughout the yard next spring.  Magically, these apparently dead leaves will be transformed into white peonies, pink roses, tender lettuce, tart cherry tomatoes and fried zucchini slices. I don't have to do anything but put them in a pile.  Worms and bacteria will do the rest. 

I raked leaves today.  They weren't as pretty as the glowing orange leaves from the sugar maple so lovely that I took reference photos of them for a future watercolor painting.  The simple forms of the yellow-gold cherry leaves couldn't compete with the huge heart-shaped leaves from the redbud.  But there was one oak leaf easily as large as my footprint that steadfastedly refused to be added to any pile.  It was a nondescript simple unlovely brown escapee that seemed destined to reside in its own world quite separate from the smaller hawthorn and apple leaves. I was good with that.  The simple truth is that there will be more leaves to be raked.  I will have other chances to get every. single. leaf.  But not yet.  My garden looks like autumn, leaves nestling in nooks between rocks that will be challenging to clear, a few late-blooming mums.  And roses! and petunias! and a purple alyssum seedling that chose November in which to bloom. An odd mix of spring, summer and fall jumbled together.  Maybe it's okay to be a little ragged and a tad unkempt and a bit out-of-step as we prepare ourselves for challenges ahead. Maybe it's supposed to be that way.

I raked leaves today.  I was cold enough to need my heather-blue knit vest indoors, but I was glowingly warm from a bit of exercise on a mild sunny day outdoors.  Better yet, I felt relaxed and happy.  Mother Nature and I were in harmony.  We'd collaborated.  She dropped the leaves so  I could rake them into piles.  She stopped the photosynthesis so I could enjoy the colors hidden in the leaves since springtime.  She offered lessons on change, on mindfulness, on responsibility and I absorbed them.  

I raked leaves today.  It was a good day.

A Total Eclipse

We were in the right place at the right time (for once) and really looking forward to seeing the total eclipse. I've been humming..."a total eclipse of the heart"...all day long.  

Then some grey cumulus clouds appeared and instead of sunshine, we had shadow. Which might have led to me grousing and groaning about the clouds interfering with my enjoyment of the big event.

Especially since the next total eclipse for our neck of the Sierra isn't till 2045.

Look at how dark our yard looked at 6:30 pm! You can hardly see the neighbors' roof off to the lower left.  I found myself turning lights on in the house.

The clouds parted just a minute after totality and we went back to enjoying the eclipse on our little pinhole viewer. Which was fun until my sweetie noticed the back wall of the cottage.
 

Amazing!  The maple leaves created their own eclipse viewer. 

The whole wall was covered by these little crescents that changed as the eclipse progressed. It was so cool that we invited the neighbors over to watch the abstract, almost-Oriental patterns that resulted.

 

I want some wallpaper like that.  I'd never tire of it!

Meanwhile the chickadee parents (back again for a second year) were much too busy feeding their very hungry and noisy nestlings to let either the eclipse or the people standing next to their birdhouse interfere with their feeding routine!

Reporting from one of the few places in the U.S. lucky enough to view the total annular eclipse,

Possibilities

Dear Wind and Rain,

Thanks for dropping by this morning.  You woke me up a little earlier than I would have liked, but I was happy to see that you brought Blue Sky and Rainbow with you. What a thoughtful hostess gift!  I hope you enjoyed your visit to the Truckee Meadows.  I understand that your sister, Snow, might visit soon?  Tell her she's welcome here anytime.

Sincerely yours,

ms. pogonip

Not to diss Oregon, which is fine for those with webbed feet, but the dogs and I all prefer fluffy snow and morning sun.

Grey Gray Gris

Dear Clouds and Fog,

Thank you for dropping by. You didn't say, so I thought I'd ask if this is just a short visit or do you plan an extended stay.

Have you seen my friend, Sunshine? If you do, please let her know I hope to see her soon.

Sincerely,

ms. pogonip

If I wanted to live in the Pacific Northwest, I'd move to Oregon. Just saying.

Clueless and loving it

I have no idea what date it is, 'cause I'm on vacation.

I do know that I get two extra days of someone else doing the cooking though. Does that count? You are thinking, she gets two extra days and wants credit?! She's lucky I don't deck her. I feel your pain, all you worker bees. Still, I earned the two extra days by being incredibly saintly while waiting for my sweetie to finish up while my son was having a birthday WITHOUT ME.

I'm thrilled that I've actually got an internet connection for a couple of minutes. It seems like ages (possibly it has been ages, see sentence one above).

I've been on vacation so long that I almost forgot my blogger password. That's long.

Today we played tennis, boxing, bowling, and golf. (Yep, my sweetie discovered the Wii once the younger set turned off Guitar Hero). I use "we" loosely since I sadly have no interest in it at all. I'm weird that way with computer games of any sort.

Continuing with the loose use of the pronoun: Today "we" dug up and carted two seedling cottonwood trees which actually look quite happy in their new home considering that it's 95 degrees out. I would have gone and helped but the menfolk obviously considered that my babysitting abilities were more valuable and went without me.

The Sandia Crest is amazing. Albuquerque is typical high desert and the Sandias don't look much different from down here. But our hike to the tram and Kiwanis Cabin was amazing, awesome, incredible, cool, shady, lush, flowery, slippery, interesting, easy, challenging and fun.

I can hardly wait to get back to my own computer and download the photos and show you how fantastic it was. I just love wildflowers and the Sandia Crest ranks second only to the Rockies near Yellowstone on my wildflower meter.

I have more petrified wood in my near future when we start back, so the memory of those wildflowers is going to keep me going.

p.s. I am a Nevada girl and the humidity here is killing me. It's the monsoon season and we've had rain showers daily and then 90 degree heat. Yuck. Thank heavens for ceiling fans. It could be worse, Reno was so smoky when we left that it was horrible. I'm hoping it's cleared up a little bit by the time we're back.

Bone Chiller

How can it be so cold, clear to the innermost marrow, when it's been over 40 degrees. Can you say, "Wind chill?" (Pardon my whining about the dampness making it worse. Nevadans don't do humidity well.)

I love winter. I adore snow. Cold doesn't bother me. When the wind stops, I've been unzipping my jacket and stripping off my gloves.

When the winds swirl around, I've been wearing my jacket indoors. Even warm cocoa and baths hot enough to boil lobsters are temporary fixes.

This is where I want to be. Right now. (stomps her foot)

Gardens at the Del Coronado

I'm off to bed and sweet dreams of Shelter Island, sailboats, and not a breath of wind.