I do like our pergola!
A short walk Monday, Mar 2 2015
Please note the buried chair….
I should Not be eye to eye with top crossbar of the pergola….
That fence is 4 plus feet tall….
Hey! I found the driveway!!
March Sunday, Mar 1 2015
But I was also thinking the other day about music in this house. There is a remarkable variety: from shape-note hymnals, to Congregational, to Lutheran, to Anglican. Then there is the classical piano pieces appropriate for a young lady in the late 1800’s: a heavy emphasis on Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Schumann. Then there is a whole Raft of other classical pieces from Chopin to Sibelieus, Rachmaninoff to Shostakovitch. Then the organ music, and the clarinet, and… Then the folk music: from the New England folk music revival of the 1960’s to the early Fireside Book of Songs which first really re-popularized so many pieces, then there is an odd collection of pop music from the first pop era….then there is….
And that, I should hasten to add is the Just the Sheet music!
I will learn to play the piano :)
Sun Angles Friday, Feb 27 2015
Unlike the birds, modern humans don’t tend to pay too much attention to the sun. Or the angle of the sun. Neolithic humans did, but we like to think that….well anyway.
However, there was general consensus at the dinner table that indeed we do notice the sun angle. For southern New England, the sun angle is suggesting that (while still winter) spring should be coming. The snow should be soggy, the air should have some moisture in it. There certainly should not be snow clinging to tree branches, burying southern facing roofs, and still crisp, sharp, and slippery.
It is jarring to have spring sun and a winter landscape. Some bit of our old brain still works!
Tick-Tock Wednesday, Feb 25 2015
I was contemplating a recently repaired clock today, quietly purring away, and thinking how artificial digital clocks are. If one considers them in culture, they tend to represent implacable countdowns of some mechanical/technological catastrophe. Always in either glaring red or green. They simply don’t lend themselves to ornamentation, names, or anything else.
But mechanical clocks have hands and faces, they are grandfathers or slaves, they strike and speak, they are cats, cuckoos, and skeletons. They run for a day, a week, a year.
Can you imagine Cinderella’s midnight hour being indicated by a digital clock? Or Hoffman’s owl atop one in Tales of the Nutcracker? Dali’s clocks as digital?
Maybe in a thousand years….or maybe not. The steady beat of a mechanical clock, tick-tock, has far more connection to the beat of the human heart than a silent set of numbers.
Not winter Monday, Feb 23 2015
I wonder what the experiment will show this year? Right now this section of lawn is under about two feet of hard packed, wind blown snow. I’ll have to remember to cut the line correctly, sheer happenstance when I did it last year!
The chickadees Sunday, Feb 22 2015
are done with winter, they have been busy pairing off this week. As are most of the other birds, the goldfinches, for example, are beginning to regain their golden colors. For them the sun is king, not the temperature or the extended forecast.
Winter isn’t done though.* Last night’s snow was elegant: a fluffy (if very slick) eight inches. It hung in the trees quite nicely. Tomorrow night is forecast to hit -11 F. Yay?
Despite major efforts, the driveway remains shut, except at both ends. You could build very respectable igloos out of the drift snow. So we wait. What else can one do, but lie to oneself about one’s power over old Mother Nature?
*Today it got above freezing, however! I have a feeling that the winter/spring transition is going to be short and wet.
Hunting Jackal Friday, Feb 20 2015
One good thing about the cold weather, there was a lovely moon tonight. It was the slimmest, sharpest crescent edge of gold riding low with the ice-blue Jackal star close by. But what made it really lovely was the earth-shine. All this white snow helps with that phenomenon. The reflection of the rest of the moon was just enough to pick out in golden black shadow the entire moon, glowing ever so faintly against the black sky.