Musings

Changeable

I’m calling this a shadow selfie. Except my shadow, on the lower trunk, is vague. So, rather a failure. [Very warm early morning light—so golden and special—and enough that the shadow should be more obvious. And now, as darkness arrives, it’s lightly raining.

Clues in nature

Heavy dew

Windless nights yield heavy dew, and, even if a wind kicks up when the sun comes, the grass stays wet for a long time. Backlit dewdrops are gems.

Despite most of the leaves still being green, a few have become dramatic harbingers of changes to come.

Moist and cooler

When I looked at the forecast for today yesterday, and even this morning, I thought it would be rainy all day. Actually, it was overcast and wet, and there was rain, but much of the day was without.

Anyway, we’re in the autumn mushroom season—which does not include morels or boletus, which I would eat, but I don’t know if this kind is edible, so I photoed and left it for turtles or whatever non-humans might dine on it.

Sky check

The humidity still haunts us when we begin outdoor chores in the morning, although less so before the sun gets strong. My shirt was wet through after twenty-five minutes of stump-grubbing. By mid-afternoon when I headed to the beach for a lake-bath (see above), I saw the clouds changing, and now it’s raining, so: 100% humidification.

Solidago souls

Clear, warm, and somewhat humid. Still, we did about eighty minutes of hard work this morning before the sun’s intensity ramped up—mostly cutting and vanquishing grass and weeds.

That’s the cycle of life around here. It’s either too cold for plants to flourish (or grow at all), or we’re in the brief period when it’s warm enough, and they grow with great urgency to make it through the growth cycle and produce seeds before freezing weather repeats.

This goldenrod (probably Solidago canadensis) is late to the blooming game, yet I know it’ll manage to be reproductively successful before the first killing frost.

Murky morn

I treasure these ground-fog mornings. They only happen when many variables align…lack of wind all night, sufficient humidity, clear skies…and they aligned this morning. The fog thickens, thins, then thickens again over perhaps a half-hour. This was the first phase of thickening, with the earliest dawn light. So glad I was awake for this.

There comes a time…

I looked out the window at 6:30am this morning, and saw the thick clouds mostly obscuring the far hillside (it’s hazily visible as the darker area between the white cloud layers) and thought: this isn’t a day for touring the countryside.

Here’s the hotel pool area at 3pm; it’s been rainy and will be again.

We fly out tonight, just before midnight. We checked out of our room at 2pm, and are ensconced in the lobby by big windows facing west, using the hotel internet and enjoying the fact that other people are far from us, although most are masked, as the hotel requests.

You might think this spot in the lobby is rather boring, but we watched three hotel employees wearing suits and dress shoes herd two Holsteins out of the front lawn about an hour ago.

It’s been a extraordinary trip, and we have accomplished what we set out to do. I sit here in a light jacket, and my trusty Apple Watch indicates it’s 54°F here. It will be months before we see the 50s in Atlanta, I think.

Ice in our drinks

We did a bit of outdoor socializing this evening. We had a storm cell come through before we convened, and it brought the temps down (yay!). So, it was quite pleasant, then the sun returned and the temp rose and the humidity re-blanketed us. That’s the way it goes.

Puddle weather

Puddle

Luckily, I’ve been incorrect about the amount of rain we’ve received this week. I predicted the precip would be elsewhere. Nope. We got some Monday, and it’s raining now. The plants and their people-fans are happy.

We shall see

Darned dry although the meteors seem to think there’s a chance of showers several days next week. Along with a cool snap, with highs in the upper 80s, merely the upper 80s. I suspect the showers will be localized and accumulate little.