What is it about water that is so alluring? It is more than just the recreational opportunities. Sure, swimming, diving, boating (in all its forms), snorkeling, beach/shorecombing, fishing, simple contemplation provided by the longer views afforded by the openness of water are all well and good on their own. But there is that intangible element to this element. Underneath the surface, all reality is suspended. It truly is an alien world where sound is nonexistent, sight is limited or gone and the blanketed feeling of the slight pressure allows one (or me) to disappear from the terrestrial Earth and enter the known unknown. With a little practice while underwater, you can keep "panic" at bay by quieting your mind and slowing your movements. This creates the symmetry necessary to be part of the invisible world if only for 30 or some more seconds. Time is also altered. Just time yourself when you are beneath the surface. For me, time slows down as I cruise the shallow depths of my lake looking at fish, rocks, logs and the dark nothingness of the deep parts. It's a feeling that I can't re-create on land. So yes, water is special. The feeling is rudely ruined as we breach the surface, light slapping our face, splashing noises invade our ears and the sweet air is sucked into yearning lungs. But the ability to return to that environment is but a few breaths away. Maybe the allure is the fleeting nature of holding one's breath to experience what can only be done in the water.
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No eagles this year. At least not in this nest. Word is, a 42" snowfall added too much weight to an already large and heavy nest. A good part of it came down. In that part of the woods, there are a lot of white pine branches (the aerie was in a large white pine) strewn on the forest floor. The breaks seem like brittle breaks, very shardy, coarse. I thought that the early spring drought made the pines brittle, but a 42" dump would do the same thing snapping long ranging branches. The woods on Castle Hill (here) have some amazingly old trees; ancient hollowed out, but living maples, soaring oaks with DBH's (diameter breast height) of 4+', towering white pines, the masts of 18th century ships and flaky, big yellow birches that tend to rot from the bottom and fall from being top heavy and my favorite conifer, the majestic hemlock. Soft needles, tiny cones, platy, deep brown bark as they age creating a fantastical look that would fit in LOTR. I watched 2 juvenile eaglets soaring above our end of the lake and others have seen at least one of the adults in the area, but for the most part the beach seems empty without them. Hopefully, another season will bring them back, but like most wishes, only time will tell. On a similar note, animals in general seem to be scarce. Very few birds at the feeder, not many deer anywhere, no waterfowl yet, we had numerous porcupines the last couple of years, not one yet, no bears either. The red efts have hatched and are quite small now and of course, the chipmunks have taken over and Stella spends most of the day inside and when outside can't see or hear them unless they run right in front of her. Went to see Dead & Company at SPAC with cousin Rori and her son Shane. Brought back so many wild memories and made me feel fresh. Their sound was phenomenal! Bobby was Bobby and in good form and while no one can take Jerry's place, John Mayer did a great job, such a talented guitar player. Makes me want to buy a VW Van and follow them around. Of course that would kill me as one concert made me sore the next day from dancing so much.
These EV charging stations were installed sometime after Oct. of 2022. They were up and running when I got to Vermont in late May. Someone here knows how to get things done. Kudos to the powers that be. Of course, depending on the bars one hangs out in, they are either what should be happening or the stupidest waste of money imaginable. They are in a small public lot in Wilmington, VT, pop. 2255. The town sits at the crossroads of Rte. 9 and Rte. 100, so the traffic is consistent with weekends seeing the a major increase in vehicles. The rise of continued sales of electric vehicles will no doubt motivate other small towns to invest in these charging stations as well. Grafton, VT, about 30 mi. north had one installed at a tavern about 6 years ago. Vermont understands progress, even if many residents do not. Vermont is probably as paradoxical as other states. The reputation of the Green Mountain State is one of tolerance and progress. But many of the, how do I say it, true Vermonters, real locals, poor opinionated residents, find the EV thing to be in the realm of the elite. They do not and will not have an electric vehicle. To them it makes no sense. Their cars, trucks need to be practical, tough, ready for dirt roads, salt, and steep hills, not to mention most don't have a garage to house it, nor the money to set up a charging station at home. Why should their taxes go toward these charging stations that only second home residents and transplants use? I had no answer to the questions, I just lent an understanding ear. Perhaps I should research some of the answers because they have a point as do my gas guzzling friends in Idaho. Or better yet, some signage at the stations explaining the funding so people get it. Then, when the topic comes up in a bar, maybe one party can buy a beer for the other party. Answers are usually never simple, so several drinks may be in order. On another note, I finally hiked the Lye Brook Trail to see the Lye Brook Falls. The trailhead is just east of Manchester, VT toward Bromley. It is a typical eastern trail, wide, muddy and rocky in spots and well marked. Signs say it is 2.3 miles to the falls. It pretty much goes up from the start, steep in places, with a few easy stream crossings. The trail never tops out, but contours across the mountainside about 3/4 of the way up, then the trail begins the descent to the, we'll call it the base of the falls, but that is hard to tell. (The falls is probably quite spectacular when the stream is flowing full. We are coming out of a dry period so the flow was rather sparse. But to be sure a worthy sight after the 2+ miles. I scampered around the base trying for a good photo. My 5.10ies (older hiking shoes) performed so well on the wet rocks I 've a mind to write to the company to bring them back. There is no easy lookout area for the falls so be cautious. Since I was alone, there was no competition for a good spot. 20 minutes was enough for me and the brisk hike was more to my liking than the falls, but a destination always helps.
The chase is ever on. Sometimes I love it, yet other times I ask why? My conclusion is that I am fortunate. My life is not perfect and never will be. The question is to strive for the unattainable, accept the status quo or constantly tweak things to create a betterment to keep things fresh. FOMO. I think it is a human condition, not some new emotion created by a generation looking for answers. When I am in Idaho, I want to be in Vermont. Now in Vermont, I miss my kids, partner, friends and built in social life. The conclusion is one can never have it all or perhaps you can have it all but just not at the same time. Changing things up, for me, is important for growth, stimulation and creativity. This morning, donning a fleece due to a 40 degree start, Stella and I wander through the new trail we cut last year. Rain always makes the woods different. The colors pop, branches droop lower and the crunching leaves turn to silencing sponges. Since Stella is slowing down, she hangs closer to me and usually behind me. This allows for a bit of stealth as evidenced by the deer that were unaware of us until we were 30 ft. away. It was only 2 does, but getting so close without them knowing is a bit, well.......thrilling. One stared then slowly wandered away. The younger one stayed and stared long enough to get the shot. Thanks. Did Stella wake up? Yes, and she did want to chase it, but a quick "no" stifled the instinct. The rain was welcomed as it has been unnaturally dry. Streams, wetlands and rivers are low. The lake is full, but certainly not high. This poor amphibian looks like it could have used a bit more moisture when coming out of hibernation, but most likely came out because of an early warm stretch then it froze again. Aquatic frogs don't really hibernate by burying themselves in the mud. They will hang out just above the bottom. Up to 70% of the water in a frog's body can freeze during the winter (many die because it is just too cold). The frog will generate lots of glucose before which acts as an antifreeze and protects vital organs during the long cold. As the lakes thaw, the amphibians do as well, but inconsistent temperatures can create the situation above. Welcome back little one with the contortionist wings. Feed that metabolism!
The passage of time continues. Another summer and more reminders of the aging process. The graying face of my 4 legged companion, the miles on my car rolling near 250,000, the news of peers passing away, the slow depletion of physical energy, the desire to still do more, while, in the words of Joni Mitchell, dragging my feet just to slow the circle down. I am hoping that cramming in desired activities and spending time with loved ones is how to slow the circle down. Two photos of my Idaho winter. One through my window (nice to have an uptrack in one's backyard) and one in the backcountry with aforementioned graying companion. It was one for the record books, making yet another wonderful and frustrating memory. Left Idaho Friday morning, the 19th of May. First stop was in Breckenridge, CO celebrating Shane's (2nd cousin) graduation from medical school. 25 cousins attended. Rori, favorite cousin, rented a house at 10,000 ft. with 14,000 footers surrounding it. Stunning environment, but such an elitist town. A small family of foxes kept us company, surprisingly not the usual shy creatures I am used to. These 3 were so tame as to sit on the hot tub and press noses to windows. Stella nearly peed herself watching their boldness through the windows and from the deck. Great time with the family. Stayed 3 nights, left Monday near 11 am and motored to eastern Nebraska. Tuesday I made it to Ohio, but threw a tensioner pulley and found a guy who let me use his shop to replace it and 2 belts. Had to take off the fenders, grills, bumpers to access it. But success was had as was making a friend. Pulled into the cabin at 12:30 Thurs. the 25th. Took a bit for the aaahhhs to take hold, but I'm getting there. A bit unsure of continuing this blog, but why not. Coming back to Idaho from Vermont put me in a funk. It is busy and suburban, until you drive out a canyon. If nothing else, it will be a bit of history for my children. Also, lots of snow creates some excitement. We had over 30" in a 3-4 day period which is a lot for us. So perhaps this will be the beginning of an Idaho experience online. We'll see if my discipline will continue. Photos are from a walk out Deer Creek, Hailey, ID.
Approaching the halfway point between the solstices. One of the two times during the year when the sun will be 90 degrees, directly above the equator. Then it will dip southward to start the warm up for summer in the other hemisphere. Here in Vermont, the sun is also traveling southward in its rise and set, which manifests itself with a lower angle in the sky. For me, that means a lot of shade. The sun is not making it over the treetops but for an hour or two per day. Made me put a clothesline inside the cabin.
Of course, the temperature has also taken a downward turn. We've had a few mornings in the 30's surprising us or more accurately, disappointing us. This year Labor Day seems to mean the end of summer. Culturally, yes, but astronomically no. So why not begin the transition with some small steps toward colder weather. A couple of those days felt chilly, so why not make some......chili. And what goes well with chili? Why bread, of course. Yes, a small step for sure, but the thought of those hearty stews and soups will help keep a smile on my face as hunting and ski season approaches. Really?!! Is climate change moving fall into August. I get it, we are a month away from the autumnal equinox, summer is waning, there is a borderline drought, but there are 10 days left of August. Do the leaves have to drop in my lap and remind me the year is entering its twilight?
This dendrologic detritus is not the only sign of a fading summer. We are losing about 2.5 minutes of light per day, the angle of the sun has dropped so that the light is not hitting my deck until 11:00 a.m., the lake level has dropped to the point where vehicles can drive onto spits of land 200 yards from the shoreline in June, acorns are falling and clanking on roofs, decks and cars, there are tiny splashes of fall colors within the forest and the apples have populated the numerous "wild" trees in the area. All of these signs have created a slight rise in my blood pressure as the reality of leaving the cabin becomes clearer. There is so much I still want to do, but it's like being slowly backed into a corner by some unknown force, where at some point you will have to flee so as not to get caught. The focus is on not getting caught rather than enjoying what is left and the coming transition. I'm hoping being aware of this feeling will help me simply step to the side and experience the last month of Vermont. Remember those days, oh so long ago, when summers were spent swimming or fishing in the lake, fielding ground balls on the most uneven sandlots, ditching cars at night and fighting the urge to stay quiet when the pretty girl next door says hi. That has got to bring a smile to your face just thinking of the good ole days or a frown if you think about how many kids won't have those experiences. But that is for another entry. This is a nod to the days when just getting up without school hanging over your head or a job to run to was the norm during the months of warm. Sometimes I would climb the tallest hemlock on our hilltop property and be the highest being in the world - at least my little world. Scanning the horizons for a 360 degree view. Never once thinking about how those skinny little branches held my weight as I scampered up and bounced down amidst the perfectly spaced horizontals.
The other day I got a glimpse of how those branches held my weight. Trees have skeletons. The branches root deep into the trunk of the tree anchoring all those branches to create an immense amount of strength. The knots we see in wood are remnants of those branches and if ever you tried to hammer a nail through a knot, you know how hard it is. The internal cellulose of those branches is harder than the trunk wood. A lot harder. aHow is it that when one retires there is precious little down time? There is always something to do in this world. How anyone can say they are bored is beyond me. So many interests, so many curiosities, so many ballgames and concerts and fresh veggies and new friends and new hikes and magical streams and Scrabble games and new taverns and family and old friends and new towns and wood to cut and animals to see and new discoveries in general.
Family and friends have waylaid my efforts at near daily entries, but such is life. My focus is usually like my interests, varied and fleeting. I thought age would help with discipline but it does not seem to be the case. Bouncing through this world like Tigger seems to be my lot in life. At least it is done with a smile on my face and a hop, skip and a jump in my step. |
Retired Educator
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