The gathering storm Wednesday, Dec 26 2012 

Uncategorized acairfearann 15:58

Winter in New England is sometimes portrayed as simply grey, a monochromatic world.  Yet, even the cloudiest day is a far more complex palette, as anyone who has ever tried to paint it will attest.

Last night, the broken clouds at sunset were pink, gold, and blue; while the white snow reflected all the colours, offset by the deep green hemlocks.  Today, a complete overcast has taken away the pinks and golds, dulling the greens.  But in place of those vibrant colours are the many shades of gray-blues: the gunmetal blue steel sky, the blue/green/grays of lichen, the brown/red/grays of many trees, the cold pewter of the beeches, the black/white of birches, the dulled rocks without a single sparkle in the mica, but the ice and snow cling longer to them then to the ground and the stone walls stand out in the woods. 

Hardly a monotonous world.

 

Merry Christmas Tuesday, Dec 25 2012 

Uncategorized acairfearann 11:29

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Norway Spruce in ice Monday, Dec 24 2012 

Modern Photos , acairfearann 13:16

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Solstice Friday, Dec 21 2012 

Uncategorized acairfearann 16:00

Today, the sun has swung to its farthest point on the sun calendar that is the meadow.  Because it is not quite perfect, and the house is ever so slightly angled, it does not seem quite as far as the summer solstice.  Or perhaps, that is because on this darkest day, there is the knowledge that tomorrow will be brighter.  And that though the coldest days of winter still lie ahead, spring is coming.

We are hardly rational creatures…it shouldn’t affect as one whit, but it does.

 

Ice Thursday, Dec 20 2012 

Uncategorized acairfearann 09:29

December in Connecticut usually means ice rather than snow, the ground not yet frozen, the temperature wickedly variable and therefore usually a bit windy.   This is not a good combination.  Ice is, no question, very pretty.  Some ice is prettier than other ice.  Hoarfrost on a truly cold day, rising from a river, is out of this world.  Every tree a glittering, iridescent sculpture of purest white, against a clear, cold blue sky.

We don’t get that.  We get ice storms, and one watches the trees bend under the accumulated tons.  Sometimes great shards of ice will crack free, and the branch whips up.  Other times, the branch bends and then shatters.  If you are in the right spot at the right time, you will hear the first few warning cracks before it explodes.  But you don’t see it coming.  Heavily weighted trees can snap in half or, when the wind picks up to even the slightest of breezes and the ground is muddy, simply fall over.

Thankfully, this week’s storm shifted to rain.  An elegant coating without danger, that melted into the fog.

 

Old Mirrors Tuesday, Dec 18 2012 

Esperanza acairfearann 14:50

Lighting houses before electricity often made use of mirrors to double the amount of apparent light in a room.  A mirror behind a candle or kerosene lamp reflected the light outwards, a mirror on a dark wall brightened the space.  Cut glass also added to this effect.  Prisms on candle-sticks or chandeliers seem somewhat ostentatious in today’s brightly lit world, over-the-top; but before electricity, while still indicating wealth, they were far more understated: simply a glimpse of focused light in an otherwise dark corner, a true accent.

Esperanza has some old mirrors.  In many cases the silvering (mercury or sliver nitrate) has begun to fail.  Usually, the droplets condense on the bottom of the mirror, a subtle silver fog rising up over decades.  Such old mirrors can sometimes seem a little spooky.  There is a true reflection but it is obscured, shadowed…combine it with low light levels, ornate carving (all too often rising above the mirror like dark wings) and, voila, your talking mirror of legend.

 

Whirly gig Monday, Dec 17 2012 

gardening and Modern Photos , acairfearann 11:23

Indoor gardening, a bog-standard cyclamen from above:

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Letters: reflections on mortality Sunday, Dec 16 2012 

Historical Events acairfearann 21:40

From Julie to Morris, 1846.  Morris had written that he had an attack of some sort of family illness (not clear from the writing) in his previous letter and the doctor gave him ten years (he was twenty at the time), he wrote that he would spend it wildly.

Julie’s reply:

“Dear Morris, I am alone and the fire burns cheerfully before me, and there is a basket of fine grapes on the table before me. The clock has told the hour for retiring, but I am wakeful. I choose to talk to thee. The truth is my Friend, you have lived Not wisely, since we parted. And now you are but reaping the fruits. Bitter! are they not? and hardly worth the pains and toils you have bestowed to garner them up. We need to live two lives to learn how to live well. So; you tell yourself you will be satisfied with ten little portions of time, and do you think when those years have all flown, when the last sand has run you will be ready, to try what the next life will bring of pleasure or pain? Can you lay down your burdens and say to yourself that you have fulfilled all your tasks? You have lived out the precepts which your Father taught you? And heeded carefully all the warnings which your Mother breathed softly in your ear, ‘before your heart had grown familiar with the paths of sin,” and which now steal upon your memory? In the silence of midnight when you are alone save the prayers which that Mother whom you love, which float about you, like guardian spirits and hallow the place and hour? This letter will reach them.”

Julie was not one to go for sweet nothings…

 

It’s the little things Friday, Dec 14 2012 

gardening acairfearann 10:47

One can get trapped in the details; but the ‘fix it now’ policy when gardening or doing maintenance is always a good one.  Not to be confused with the ‘rush around madly without setting up’ approach, however.  There is always time to get the right tools.

This thought wandered through my brain yesterday when I was busy removing the last of the hemlock trunk, rolling it over to the road fence for a bit more sound dampening.*  I noted that one of the young corner spruces looked wrong: the last two feet of its leader was bare with an odd little top knot.  On closer inspection, a beech branch had grown long enough during the summer to interfere. It had yet to damage next year’s buds too badly, but was on its way.   The damage was several months in the making, but wasn’t visible until the leaves were off. The obvious solution was to walk back to the house, get the pole saw, go back out and trim the beech properly so as to avoid the issue for another two or three years.  A matter of five minutes solved what might otherwise lead to the injury and resulting deformity of the tree.  Ten minutes of pruning reduced other interference with a shadblow and the surrounding trees.  Its easier to prune when they are small…

*Does it actually work, I don’t know; does it pyschologically appear to? yes.

 

Things in desks Wednesday, Dec 12 2012 

Historical Events acairfearann 13:52

Cleaning out/rearranging things always leads to discoveries here.  Amongst the inventories in the desk was Eileen Creevey Hall’s* diary from her trip to Italy and France in 1927 when she would have been 17.   Unlike those of us with excellent intentions and poor follow-through, she kept the diary the entire trip with a fair bit of detail throughout.

I have yet to do more than thumb through it, but I think it shall bear further investigation.

*In the cast of characters: Eileen Creevey Hall, daughter of Lucy Ellsworth Creevey and George Creevey, great-granddaughter of Julie P. Smith.

 

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