And that’s the big event of this day.
At a landscape supply place south of town you can get a bucketful of good mulch dumped into the back of your truck for just over $20. Only thing wrong with that is that you have to wheelbarrow it once you get home.
Tacos for dinner, followed by an episode, and then reading. That’s pretty much the routine. I’m reading Thoreau’s Chesuncook, but not for much longer, interesting as it is.
To Hell and back? No. From Helenville to Dousman (less than 15 miles) on the Glacial Drumlin.
Late bloomer
Perfect weather for a ride—partly to mostly sunny, high of about 70, and lower humidity. Who could ask for anything more.
Look at the size of these oak leaves. Must have been growing very low down before they were snapped off by something. Lower leaves grow big in order to capture sun in shady places.
Because we have not been as absolutely careful as we have been in the past and should be always, we decided to go for a covid test this morning—at the county fairgrounds in Jefferson. As we drove through the sheep pens and amongst the sheep dogs getting ready for trials, I was afraid we might have to spend an hour or two in the queue. But no, we drove right in to the exhibition barn, and within five minutes were identified, swabbed and dismissed. Drive-in testing like this was held here yesterday, so maybe that’s why the crowd was so light. Or, maybe there’s some other reason?
Later, I rotated two of the three compost bins. Quite a bad idea on a warm day with the air so thick I could shovel it too.
No results from the tests yet, but we are feeling positively negative.
After a few hours without precip, it’s back. Go west, rain clouds, go west!
Photo from yesterday’s walk in the prairie
Continuous drip for the longest time. Couldn’t some of this head west?
But, thanks to the weather, Sue, Pax, and I had the prairie all to ourselves as we walked there this morning. Asters and goldenrod, abundant.
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“People flock to our hills for the fiery suite of October but they often miss the sublime prelude of September fields. As if harvest time were not enough—peaches, grapes, sweet corn, squash—the fields are also embroidered with drifts of golden yellow and pools of deepest purple, a masterpiece.”
—Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass
…all day
To Cedarburg again to help out on a day complicated by school, jobs, and moving vans. Most of the drive there in the dark and drizzle.
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Another You Make The Call
What should Democrats be wary of between now and the November election?
Choose all that apply.
☐ Russia’s ongoing efforts to use Facebook, and other means, to tilt the election towards Trump
☐ No more verbal intel briefings to Congress
☐ Attorney General investigating and targeting leaders of BLM
☐ Creation of doubt and confusion about absentee voting, disabling the post office
☐ Defense and encouragement of right-wing protesters/militia
☐ Shadow people getting control of Joe Biden
☐ Creation and dissemination of deep-fake altered videos by Trump team/supporters
☐ Right-wing and paramilitary groups patrolling polling places
☐ Planes full of thugs in black uniforms
☐ Trump sending in the National Guard
Rain from midnight into morning, and all through the day. Accompanied by a very chilly wind.
This could be what Mr. Thoreau calls “the first unquestionable and conspicuous autumnal day.” It certainly seems so.
Sitting on the back patio, wearing a jacket, I watched our resident chipmunk run by, west to east, along the top of the concrete wall between us and Vi, as I do most evenings. I think he might be heading for the compost bin, for dinner, which seems sensible. Later I watched him run by east to west, which confused me. I thought he lived in the patio garden under the redbud (where there be tunnels), but perhaps he lives in the big hollow in the black maple in the side yard. In any case, I think he has found the perfect spot.
…to Cedarburg. Wonderful house in a fine neighborhood, 4 minutes by bike to school (on trail and sidewalk) and 10 minutes to the famous downtown (entirely on trail). Move just in time—school starts (for Will, Katy, and Abby) tomorrow.
Thirteen mile ride, the last half of which directly into a blistering gale. Wouldn’t have made it without a little supplemental amperage.
Rain last night, and then off and on mini storms this morning. Southerly gale this afternoon.
Wisconsin residents who have not already requested an absentee ballot received their request forms this week from the Wisconsin Election Commission. If you are planning to vote absentee, right now (or earlier) is the time to send in the request form. Better yet, go to myvote.wi.gov and request one online.
Voting absentee by mail is actually only one option, however. The other two are: voting in person on November 3, and voting in person by absentee ballot. This is what I am going to do. As soon as early voting is open at my municipal clerk’s office I’m going to be there, either using the ballot I got in response to my request, or the one provided by the clerk. Either way, I’m only gong to cast my ballot once, unfortunately.
So, here’s the question, do you and everyone you know, have your voting plan in place?
…is it early fall? In any case, lovely weather. Lovely weather, yes, but little in the way of accomplishment.
Even loaded the bike on the bike rack and drove to a trail-head just to realize I’d forgotten my helmet.
Still and all, a ride around town, later, was not all that bad.
On our morning walk Pax and I visited an out-of-the-way spot of wildness on the edge of campus, between a cemetery and the utility plant. In what to me was waist high growth, Pax got on the scent of something and was off on the hunt—tail up, springing high and pouncing, just as quick and capable as ever.
Here’s a little Pax appreciation written a few days ago.
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Pax and I had a brisk walk to the post office this morning—at least as brisk as my stiff right leg would permit.
On familiar ground Pax likes to move, faster than I do. But, off the beaten path, he frequently pauses to consider things, to read the landscape, so rapid advances are interspersed with lingering pauses, which makes for erratic progress but provides respite for the leg muscles.
On some walks, both the brisk straight forward and the dawdling zig-zag give way to a more frenetic advance, and this means business. Pax is surprisingly modest in his dutiful behavior, always trying to get as far from observation as possible. Often, when he begins to tug, I let him off lead, and that sometimes makes it difficult to find the results of his exertions. In prairie or wood I don’t bother, figuring nature appreciates recycling.
On the way home from the post office this morning I let Pax decide the route, as I do on many walks. His way is not always my way, but who would like a life in which every decision is made by someone else? His directional decisions are not based on scenery or the amount of shade along the route, but rather on more subtle factors. However, we go, we always end up home, usually just about the same time we would have if I’d been steering.
Today thunder rumbled not long after our return, and then the rain came. Pax chose to leave it behind and shelter in the basement. Though I love weather, I refrained from pressing my opinion, and accepted his. At his age, and in appreciation of his many accomplishments, he is, I believe, entitled to manage his own time and make his own decisions.
Today he resurfaced just as the rain stopped, around 5 o’clock, which, by-the-way, happens to be his regular dinner time.
Pax has willingly accepted my mantra of ”freedom with responsibility.” He has lived up to it, and deserves recognition. What a dog.
Sue to see Jayne, dropping me at Irene’s.
Shrub at Irene’s I need to identify
…growing sweetgrass from seed.
But here’s proof that it can. This is Hierochloe odorata started from seed. The process began last February with six weeks of stratification in the fridge. It endured rapine and pillage by squirrels. It survived ignorance and uncertainty. But it survived.
From now on transplants, and lots of braiding.
Rain last night, so summer continues. Soybean fields are beginning to yellow, and corn rows have brown tassels, while some have already been cut over by combine. Still, the grass around here has not yet gone dormant, and the garden is still growing.
Pink turtle head?
Hickory nuts appear to be ripe. I’m trying to scavenge a few before the squirrels get them all.
Musk melon, sweet corn, aubergines, ugly tomatoes (discounted due to appearance, but great for eating and even better for soup). Also eggs and roasting chicken.
Looking forward to dinner.
Another surprise wet event. With a lively southerly blowing all morning I should have been able to anticipate rain, but the long spell of bright and dry threw me off. Wind Alert and other wind maps showed that Whitewater was at the convergence of this southerly flow and a north-westerly flow, creating a kind of trough. The disturbance kept generating itself right overhead, and resulted in quite a nice amount of precipitation.
There’s noting quite like a rainy afternoon. The dimness and the susurration of raindrops on lilac leaves. Beethoven piano sonatas—Pathetique, Moonlight, Pastoral, etc. while trying to read Marcus Aurelius. All leading to a leisurely nap.
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Meditations
These two rules, thou must have always in a readiness. First, do nothing at all, but what reason proceeding from that regal and supreme part, shall for the good and benefit of men, suggest unto thee. And secondly, if any man that is present shall be able to rectify thee or to turn thee from some erroneous persuasion, that thou be always ready to change thy mind, and this change to proceed, not from any respect of any pleasure or credit thereon depending, but always from some probable apparent ground of justice, or of some public good thereby to be furthered; or from some other such inducement.
…on the back patio, with the neighbors. Weather cooperating, cool with a gentle breeze, almost chilly as the full moon peeked between the trees.
Some thoughtful mowing in this yard. Reminiscent of Frost’s “Tuft of Flowers” but with perhaps an even more expansive motive.
…to sandbox building.
Testing the layout prior to moving into place
The Whitewater Urban Forest Committee has suddenly become enamored of my idea of creating an arboretum in Starin Park, and today was the first meeting of the group—city, university, school district, neighborhood association. Rather fun to see a long held idea begin to take root.
When the meeting wrapped up, it was off to O’woc to help with sandbox construction, using the model developed at Flambeau. Everybody pitched in (although the girls did take some time to work on and present a dance routine). Now comes the sand shoveling!
It’s been a gut-punch week in the annals of U.S. history—hurricane, fires, extreme heat, murder, protest, covid—all topped off with the blood-curdling abomination of the RNC.
To try for a psychic realignment I, despite the heat, went for a long, non-high-speed ride all over everywhere. It helped a little.
The hoped-for change in the weather seems to have been delayed.
…and maybe even a thunderstorm. And cooler weather.
I walked Starin Park again this evening, this time with another member of the Urban Forestry Committee, at his suggestion, because he is really interested in helping promote the idea of creating an arboretum in the park.
It was an interesting walk. I’ve met a few people who know more about trees than I do, but never anyone like him who knows everything about trees there is to know. Good guy, too, and valuable ally.
Too hot for anything but short dog walks and one short bike ride.
Don’t Cry Me A River, send me a snowstorm.