Spent most of the day -- another warm, golden autumn day -- in Montpelier and Burlington. The morning that began chilly and fogbound gave way to blue skies, abundant sunshine. During the course of the afternoon, high clouds began filtering in. By the time I returned home, a mackeral sky had spread itself out overhead, thickening clouds to the west began to thin the sunlight. Part of Isabel's long reach, which the weather folk claim will bring rain this way tomorrow and/or Saturday. The country around here could use it. The last 2-1/2 weeks have brought little rain, to the point that the autumn that started early and strong in late August has backed off in recent days, its colors beginning to fade from lack of moisture. Driving home along back roads this afternoon, I passed through long stretches where the leaves on many trees had turned pale brown or lackluster yellow instead of more vibrant colors, curling sadly up, coming down with the breeze.
Ran into one of my uphill neighbors in Montpelier, up here on her own for a week while her husband and daughter remain in D.C. where the family lives most of the year. She said schools in D.C. are closed today and tomorrow due to Isabel, causing major celebration among the younger set at the sudden long weekend.
A loved one in Greensboro, N.C. sent the following via email around 4 p.m.:
The wind has picked up here considerably just in the last hour. We won't get much rain out of this, but the wind is blowing pretty hard... trees thrashing about big time. Could be some power outages. Schools were let out early today in anticipation of what is going on right now.
Just went to let [the dog] in and saw two large branches that had been dangling in the oak from the ice storm... now laying on the ground. That's good, don't have to figure out how to get them out now. :-) But on the way down, they appear to have broken another one -- which is now dangling. Maybe the next ice storm will bring it out. Heh.
It's one of those days when everybody's talkin' about the weather.
The dry spell may have cut down on the seasonal eye candy a bit, but the wildlife has carried on according to schedule. The hummingbirds disappeared about two weeks ago, probably now somewhere enjoying warmer nights than we've had here. The robins have been been gone since the first half of August. Most of the goldfinches and purple finches have fled south, though a few malingerers remain, taking advantage of the lack of competition at my bird feeders. Bears have been showing up near homes and farms, cleaning out suet feeders, getting into compost bins, foraging in fields of crops -- packing on the pounds before the long winter nap. Grouse are suddenly easily encountered, usually hanging out near roads like the one on the hill here, not heavily travelled. Woolly caterpillars have appeared. And hunters' gunshots ring out now and then, providing more incentive for critters to head south (or into hiding).
The days, though beautiful, grow rapidly shorter. The equinox looms. The trees will empty out, Halloween will gallop into view. November will settle in.
It moves right along, this life, days and nights blowing by like the leaves that blow through the September air, passing quickly by, many shining with unexpected colors before blending together, fading away.