Cornerstone plants for meadows and fields, blooming now when needed, as the days grow short. As RWK asks, why is the world so often beautiful like this when "it could so easily be otherwise.”
Purple and gold.
In other news, dragging a bit after staying up too late watching the debate, and followup. For sure, somebody got their clock cleaned.
Also, I learned how to put cat ladies in their place—Have their pets for dinner.
Off-and-on petite, pretend rain showers.
…Heliotrope, stuff sorted and stowed, winterization partially completed, though slowed by a leak discovered in the potable water system.
Even putting the boat to bed takes a bit of doing.
Barred owl sounding off in the morning twilight, belted kingfisher busy and loud, lots of flickers flitting through the woods, a few nuthatches sounding like barnyard birds, loons calling after dark.
Unexpected pre-dawn thunderstorm, with actual thunder and a surprising amount of rain. A good soaking.
Acorns from Perivale, about to be planted.
Wind down, water flat—perfect for a row or paddle. At the moment, the only noise crickets and a distant crow.
…and boating inadvisable. Wind backing to west but still strong and gusty. Loopers Paul and Debi took us out to breakfast, followed by a little tour of Providence Bay, and Perivale—after which they were dropped off back at their boat.
Some great piano playing at the Muchmor.
Loopers stranded at the marina, and tired of the extreme weather, spending this night here. Fun conversation (including boat yarns) and Sequence.
Paul a professional pianist, and Debbie, a retired government data person.
…on Highway 540 between Kagawong and Gore Bay across from Manitoulin Cedar Products.
Word has it that this billboard is owned and operated by the owners of the jewelry store in GB. The display changes over time.
Meanwhile, cloudy, windy, and cold; motivation for log splitting and firewood stocking. Probably a fire in the stove tonight.
…about to be hauled. Before that, a stop at the marina for a pump out—the new head works wonders, but, as usual, was barely used.
Even windier today than yesterday, with weather on the way. Sailing yesterday is beginning to look like a good decision.
After transferring items off the boat, a reprise of our frequent spring boat-break picnic lunches in the shelter above Gore Bay beach.
…for bad weather? Long range forecast not brilliant, so Heliotrope back to Gore Bay today.
Good workout, with wind gusty and mostly on the nose. Every mile earned. But autumn is advancing, and now we no longer have to factor in the weather. And, challenges are actually fun. (NB: an iPhone camera problem means no relevant photos. )
…once loud with bird call, now just jays, crows, and the occasional nuthatch. Cranes are gathering in stubble fields, but no other noticeable migrations.
The Oven Bird
—Robert Frost
There is a singer everyone has heard,
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten.
He says the early petal-fall is past
When pear and cherry bloom went down in showers
On sunny days a moment overcast;
And comes that other fall we name the fall.
He says the highway dust is over all.
The bird would cease and be as other birds
But that he knows in singing not to sing.
The question that he frames in all but words
Is what to make of a diminished thing.
Cool and bright, moderate west wind backing towards south.
House builder Kerry and his wife Sandra stopped by for a long afternoon chat (sitting in the Zen spot watching catspaws). Good to catch up.
Earlier, a giant water bug ambled by, rather far from the water.
…blow ye wind, hi ho. Gale force from the west, but not too bouncy at the marina. Water way down, but now way up—variation nearly a vertical foot, perhaps a small seiche.
No letup yet this evening.
…we scorched the waves in a blistering sw wind.
Earlier, bridge repair.
Backfill still required.
Turkeys, deer, grouse, snakes…and frogs—all claiming road rights.
The frog was assisted to the verge. Boisterous south wind with one brief downpour. But only 10 quarts in Geode, which was bailed prior to a row.
Wind east and veering and moderating—beautiful day.
Goldenrod off the front deck
Flat-top aster
Ash burl
From oppressively warm and muggy, to bright and brisk, by way of a big wind shift, some roaring surf, a few downpours drumming on the metal roof, and a thermometer drop of more than 20 degrees F. (No electrostatic activity however.)
Watched/assisted a new and expensive little Beneteau come into the marina under rather clueless management. Often times there’s more money than brains exhibited in certain activities.
…at the 86-year-old Red Lodge on the shore of Lake Manitou. Still running after all those years, and quite busy, and the food was better than expected.
Our party consisted of old-time Island friends and acquaintances, so lots of reminiscing, though hard to talk to everyone when seated at a long table.
No AC, so very warm. Photo by Sue.
Flat calm from sunrise until 10 am, but with rollers from the northeast. Must have been a disturbance way out in the big water on beyond Gooseberry. It made for interesting rowing.
A breeze came up as I was heading in, and that built into a serious southerly, which made possible a lively afternoon Windride.
On the big lakes everything happens, and it’s hard to know what to expect.
Very sunny and very warm.
For dinner tonight, a smorgasbord: the Heliotrope hors d’oeuvre (liverwurst, onion and mustard on triscuit), Purvis smoked whitefish, Burt Farm beef jerky, local farmer’s market pickled egg, tomatoes from marina Jim, and some imported aged Wisconsin cheese, along with a few Cheetos and a little Clamato juice.
Followed up with Sue’s plum torte.
Oh, yum.
Slow start followed by row/paddle and swim. Sunny and warm.
Photo by Sue
Dinner with B&W.
…around the bay, with Bob and Wendy. Perfect breeze.
Nor should any reasonably well-found and well-managed boat.
My thoughts on the Bayesian sinking:
1. Silly design, more show-off than common sense. A single mast of 246 feet is plain dangerous; if that much sail is needed then rig the boat as a schooner or ketch.
2. Decorative lights were strung about the boat and left up regularly. Stuff left dangling aloft adds to windage which adds to heel.
3. The swing keel was left in an up position, thus reducing the righting moment of the boat. (More tippy)
4. The boat was anchored in an open roadstead in 160 of water, which means swinging on an enormous amount of chain. A boat at anchor can swing wildly, sometimes broadside to the wind.
5. In spite of storm forecasts, doors, windows, and hatches were left open.
For a happier fate:
1. Anchor at a reasonable depth in a sheltered place.
2. Pay close attention to weather forecasts, and plan ahead.
3. At or before the first hint of bad weather, stow everything stowable, put the keel down, batten the hatches, gather everyone aboard in the safest place (with PFDs), review the emergency plan.
4. Before the storm hits, get the anchor up and the engine on, and prepare to hold the boat pointing directly into the wind.
5. Furthermore, before all this, buy a sensible boat.
Super-yacht Suzie Pea being storm-proofed