mumma yaga

 October 11 The wind has been howling in the night as if it would blow the house down. It was 15 degrees at four in the morning, but now it is down to 11 degrees. The leaves, which were splendid, have been torn from the trees in the millions. I am always astounded at the profligacy of nature, throwing a summer's work away like yesterday's newspapers. The abundance, then the destruction, so that it will go to soil for some future summer. The leaves lie years deep in the forest, making earth for a decade from now, when the trees will bring forth another season's leaves to be thrown away in that fall. Haha, I just saw the "fall" in fall. In the morning the sun hits the ridge and brings out the reds. After the winds, the trees are bare and a wintry sun sets early. The geese have suddenly taken to the sky, leaving (leaves) in a burst of urgency to be gone by first frost. The frost, like Thanksgiving, is late this year, especially since last night's warm wind. We ha...

September 22, 2024 I like September, probably because it is my birth month, but also the leftover feeling from when it marked the beginning of a new school year, pristine new notebooks and pencils, anticipation. I sit on the porch with my coffee every morning and watch the sunrise. Sometimes the clouds lie in the valley looking as if the sea has risen to flood the world. The fog creeps along the ridge so opaque.   Some mornings there are deer at the apple trees, but this morning a coyote visited and enjoyed the apples. He took one a little way from the tree and lay down to munch it, then came back for another. He was the fattest coyote I have ever seen. They are usually thin and spare. I sometimes hear them howling and yipping at night, but then Blackie, our neighbour dog, barks on the hill and they go quiet.  The trees suddenly began turning this week. We are up before the sun now and see it break over the hills. The asters are one of the few wildflowers bringing colour, pale...

September 9, 2024 Fox, Rain and I went to Brome Fair on the long weekend. (Actually, Rain and her family went every day!) It is the largest fair in Quebec, with 35,000 visitors each year. It is mainly an agricultural fair with cows, cakes, vegetables, quilts, flowers and much more brought for showing and for prizes. Tall, sturdy clydesdales and percherons clopped about, looking somehow honest and ready to work. Tractors, diggers and backhoes demonstrated their talents, and there was a wild and reckless demolition derby, that left dusty, crumpled cars dotted along the fence at sundown. There was a clown creating giant bubbles which the children had to catch before they could really take off and shine. There were crafts, frivolous toys and gadgets, and some tempting and interesting housewares, clothes and jewelry for sale. For eating, poutine, heart attack in a cardboard tray, was the most common fare, while fries, onion rings, pizza, and fried cheese and sugary dough could also be enjoy...

 August 28, 24 Last Saturday was the annual (except for the plague years) "Jungleweed". It is a gathering at Rain and Tal's farm to enjoy the flowering jungleweed. It also falls near Rain's birthday so that is added into the mix. K and I used to think it was a party to hack down the jungleweed, Jungleweed is, it seems, a (very?) local name. It is actually called giant knotweed or Japanese bamboo. It does have a lovely fragrance and there is an abundance of it growing behind and above the farmhouse. It is invasive and grows all along many of the back roads in the area. It grows to eight or ten feet, and with its bamboo stems and large leaves it does look very out of place in these Green Mountain hills. But the party is a delight. Dozens of interesting, eccentric folk show up with potluck offerings, while two or three barbecues supply various grilled meats and vegetables.  Musicians gather under a large maple: all are welcome - there are banjos and violins and a bass, g...