Still not-quite life
Wednesday, 8 January 2025
It’s not pretty, but it tells a story…gutter ice in sunshine, with leaves.
Wednesday, 8 January 2025
It’s not pretty, but it tells a story…gutter ice in sunshine, with leaves.
Monday, 9 December 2024
We had rain off and on all day, and I looked out into the gloom at one point, and a sprig of a 5 foot tree in the understory sported bright yellow leaves, such survivors.
I found out today that coral and jade are the 35th wedding anniversary materials.
Wednesday, 20 November 2024
With a cold snap on its way, I sought flowers during my walk in the bright sunshine today. It’s 22°F colder now than when I walked. No lie.
Tuesday, 19 November 2024
Solid rain most of the day made hours and hours of mellifluous white noise.
Friday, 15 November 2024
Speaking of tools, 🤣, we fired up the furnace yesterday to stave off the brrrrrrr. In truth, we’ve rolled into the winter side of autumn, after an unseasonably warm summer side of autumn.
Thursday, 14 November 2024
We received our first rain with a chance of soaking in since Helene. Yay. It began last night and into the morning, and then the afternoon was merely overcast and damp.
Wednesday, 23 October 2024
Confession: this photo is from last week in the UP, a daisy-ish fleur in a mowed path, nestled in with a dusting of fallen leaves.
I thought it was dry up there, yet it’s dry dry dry here, too—no rain yet in this month in ATL, which is…WOW!…as it’s already the 23rd. OTOH, it’s great to see a flower even if the weather is especially arid and un-supporting of plants.
Monday, 21 October 2024
We saw (not heard) so many diverse views today. I have managed to pick two images; they are not representative. Look at this soupy fog in the valleys when we began our drive in the Appalachians.
I didn’t expect anything like this display at the state-line welcome center where we entered Tennessee. The message (perhaps): watch out for ghosts, dolls, and pumpkins!
Sunday, 13 October 2024
See those menacing clouds just above the horizon? They are down at the Lake Michigan shore. We heard that the rain they produced came down hard and sideways. Here: nothing, not a drop.
Saturday, 5 October 2024
I read that we might see northern lights last night, and we went out at the beginning of the window suggested, meaning a late bedtime for me. The camera caught hints, but we saw nada.
This morning I found a busy carpenter ant (guessing) on the birch stump, but by the time I had my camera, it was too shy to get its soul captured.
The sun sparkle was terrific at mid-day, and the waves were low rollers. Now, the wind is gusting (up to 33mph, my device suggests), and rain will roll in during the dark hours. Such is autumn in the northlands.