Highest water so far this year. Really a kind of seiche caused by the wind.
Both guests have experienced bad falls since arriving, and are now somewhat incapacitated—though improving. So, we had a leisurely breakfast, and then went to Providence Bay for a short walk to the beach and then fish and chips. A fine time, with Pax seeming to have the best time of all, running maniacally up and down the beach chasing the white foaming rollers as they came ashore.
Spaldings here by way of France, Estes Park, Chicago, Toronto, and Sudbury.
Laid back morning, with a visit to the farmer's market, and a brief afternoon sail by Jeff and me before the storm that provided nothing more than five minutes of decent rain. Off to the lower deck to watch the moon rise.
Backyard in Sudbury
Lunch at Anchor Inn. En route to Sudbury to see the Ellens and then to the airport to pick up the Spaldings.
Hot, cloudless, windless. Tiresome.
Beets, tomatoes, and onions doing okay, but only thanks to hand watering.
Mergansers, mad at being disturbed from their rest on Pine Box pier. They are skittish birds.
An odd, knocking sound, like someone repeatedly striking a single note on a wooden xylophone, coming from across the lane as I was up working around the garage. Extensive research on google lead to the conclusion it was a giant "ClunkMunk" chipmunk. However, skepticism, and a few suggestions from Mary Ellen and John resulted in a more acceptable hypothesis—an Eastern Whip-poor-will making its cluck notes. Donk.
In home waters.
Sixteen photos—frames made, canvas stretched, backing applied, even d-rings and name tags—ready to be offered for sale at the Outpost, a new store in Little Current which features made on Manitoulin. This will be an interesting experiment.
Morning chores got everyone heated up, but after lunch and naps I went to the marina, flew the Windrider across the bay to where Sue and I went for a swim before riding a strong southerly back to the slip. After a little time in and on the water the weather seemed perfect.
100 year birthday party for Fabian Windmill in Geneva. Though originally built in 1850, the mill was moved to the Fabian property and reassembled in 1915. Photo courtesy of fellow windmiler Brett Larson.
Rain this morning, but only a tease. Enough to settle the dust and ease the threat of fire, though a fire ban remains in effect. This is why I prefer spring and fall—perfect, sunny, warm, days are boring. I like rain, wind, ice, fog, storms, sleet and snow.
A big band of small jays are working back and forth in the border between bay and forest, and they are not being quiet about it at all. What with jays, crows, ravens, and merlins all around, its a marvel any other wildlife survives in this region. I'm guessing it's frogs on the menu tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BY 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.
Motor boats on the bay instead of loons. Cars on the Lane. Crowds at Sandy Beach. Pax and I are feeling hemmed in.
But the swimming is great, the water's edge is hopping with frogs, and this evening, as we were sitting on the lower deck, we watched dozens (hundreds?) of dragonflies perform aerial acrobatics as they picked off insects we were glad not to worry about. (However, we do think that the merlins which came by from time to time were picking off dragonflies, and I began hoping for a goshawk or eagle to pick off a merlin.)
Sunny, hot, calm, dry.
Another perfect day, with scarcely a cloud in the sky. After projects, a sail seemed sensible and there was a little rustle in the treetops. Once out on the bay, however, it was light and variable, with the breeze boxing the compass. Perfect time to roll in the jib, sheet the mizzen tight, and jump overboard.
Not really, when you are busy and also having parties. In the photo above, Jean and Dave are deeply into Bags, at which they excel, being as how they are into competitive games of all sorts, even though never having Bagged before.
I thought I did a blog last night, sometime between grilling Burt Farm sausages and flipping a bunch burgers, but somehow it did not get published. Anyway, we had a good party, with good food, good company, and quite a few good games (once Bags was over) of Sequence. BTW, the boys won the S series, mostly because in the last hand I was dealt four Jacks.
Another bright, cloudless, WINDY day with a temperature conducive to reading, sunbathing—or even a wee bit of work, if anyone felt so inclined.