Not so much

Both my mother and my sister commented on my writing of this blog. "Take out the personal stuff and it's really interesting and well-written and worthy of a book." Well, there's been almost exclusively personal stuff lately. Because that's all that's been going on in my life. I haven't been conscientiously enjoying what's around me outside. There's not much in the way of change, this is the time of year when everything that was trying so hard to grow and get established is now either flourishing or dead or covered up by more successful stuff.

The deer are pretty active--the other night Fred was bemoaning the fact that he hasn't seen many deer this year. Last year there were 2 does he would see often on his road during his comings and goings. He called them "his girls" and would greet them with "Hello girls" whenever he saw them. Fred is not much of a nature observer so this was a real treat for him. This year he misses his girls. Anyway, just after he said this a small buck in velvet appeared next to the road. I never see bucks so this was cool. His small rack was covered in fuzzy velvet and he looked, as my father always said "bright-eyed and bushy-tailed." Very nice. Since then I've seen many, many deer and have reported this cheerfully to Fred.


Linda always puts up bird feeders while she's in camp, and has beautifully bright yellow goldfinches. As I say, Fred is no naturalist, but he told me he wanted yellow birds like Linda's, so I bought him a finch feeder and some Nyjer seed, which is only thing you put in a finch feeder. He was really pleased but left the plastic bag of Nyjer seed on his deck overnight. He and his neighbors are having trouble with raccoons, and a 'coon dragged the bag into his driveway and started eating the seed during the night. Much to his dismay. He did enjoy watching the chipmunks clean up the remainder of the seeds in the dirt, though. Anyway, he filled his feeder and within half an hour he had bright yellow goldfinches. What a nice thing. I was really happy for him. Now that Linda's here and feeding the birds (or trying to), she has no one at her feeder. I told her they're all at Fred's, quite a way up the lake. She is not pleased. Aha! The Great Goldfinch Competition is on.


I slept in the boat house last night, went down after 9. Just getting dark. In the barely-lightness I could see a figure on the water, rowing quickly and silently up the lake. Way cool. The dogs love going to the boat house, they think it's a wonderful place and settle in immediately. Poke around minimally and plop right down on the porch. I read by candlelight--I've mentioned before that this is one of my all-time favorite activities, sitting on the porch there in silent semi-darkness. I was reading Rolling Stone's 40th anniversary issue. They're publishing a series of issues celebrating their anniversary, made up of articles first published in 1967. This issue is news stories about what was going on. It is indescribably cool for me to relive that part of music history. I'm savoring it. A young Dylan, young Jagger, the Dead in their infancy, Otis Redding's plane crash, the original Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin when she was with Big Brother & The Holding Company (my brother gave me their best album for my birthday one of those years and I loved it--both the music and the fact that he thought enough of my musical taste that I would "get it").


The dogs barked furiously during the night. I know some people find this scary but I think it's funny. They were pretending the Boogie Man was standing on the deck, just the other side of the screen door. My reaction is to spring out of bed, hoping I'd see something really cool on the lake or in the trees. No, nothing. "Oh shut up. There's not even a loon out there." It was beautiful, though--4:30, bright moon, sparkling water.


I saw two turkeys in the road at the end of my driveway on my way home at 6:45 this morning. Tess likes to stand behind me in the driver's seat, front paws on the top of the door with the top of her body out the window so she can see everything just before I do. I wasn't sure she saw the turkeys--she's very observant; I asked her if she saw them. As soon as we got home and she was out of the car she took off like a shot down the driveway after them (they were long gone into the woods, of course). She came right back, breathless but cheerful.


The other day I found a really big milk snake under a tarp. I folded up the tarps I had used to cover my January firewood pile, knowing that when I picked them up there would be at least one snake enjoying the warmth under them. Usually it's garter snakes, but this was a pleasant surprise (as pleasant as finding a snake can be). It was about an inch and a half in diameter and was at least 2 feet long. The myth about milk snakes is that they attach their mouths to a cow's udder and drink the milk. Yeah, right. They're pretty snakes, sort of a purple-brown with grayish stripes. Once I saw a very young, small one curled up in a very pretty way, in the bog almost at eye level. It's colors were incredibly bright and purple and you could see the black lines defining the stripes completely clearly. Very pretty (as pretty as a snake can be). While I'm not terribly fond of snakes and won't pick one up, I don't usually mind them. Tess stumbled across this one and jumped right into the air. That was a relief, I was afraid she'd feel compelled to grab it. She's not really a very brave dog. I came across a garter snake even bigger than that milk snake, almost stepped on it sunning on a stone in my path. We weren't allowed to scream like girls when we were children, so pretty much all I know how to do is yell. And boy did I yell--twice. Then I laughed. That startled the snake and it disappeared into the brambles quickly enough to suit me.


This morning was hazy with low-level fog. The mountain was nearly invisible, just the base was showing. Wish I'd had my camera, the effect was stunning. The other day at Linda's we saw the most amazing rainbow I've ever seen. You could see the entire rainbow, from end to end, and you could see each band completely defined. One end was at Taylor Pond (next lake over) and the other was at the foot of Silver Lake. It was just incredible and I wish I could have a huge picture of it to show everyone I know how beautiful a rainbow can be.


I guess there really is a lot going on after all, I just need to remind myself that I really do notice more than the people around me.