Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Blue Ridge - a 2 Day Diary

As on Culebra, the same scene is rarely, if ever, the same. Maybe it is the go-slow mode, maybe it is something else, but the vistas I love never fail to entertain me. These days (or maybe any day) that is no small thing. While it's only taken 200 years for us to change our planet in ways that sometimes seem to have no way back home, some things are still the same and if only for that, well worth celebrating.


This one came out in the rain, bedraggled and beautiful. Maybe in the midst of water water everywhere, a bit of sweet was a change of pace. Or maybe it was the attraction to red when it seemed all else in the world was a swirling mass of greys.

Drinks are on me!
The last two days have been rainy and cloudy (and sunny too, for brief bouts of time). Silence hangs as heavily as dampening fog, with occasional birdsong and water dripping off of pine needles and leaves marking notes in what feels like timelessness. 



Barely a cloud in the sky.
Okay, a cloud in the sky.
20 minutes later

30 minutes later

An hour later

There are a lot of myths about this sight -
the rising souls of the dead?
Or, fog and heat streams making for mesmerizing visions?

Thankfully, that is NOT snow!

A different kind of whiteout


Moments after this, it rained again, complete with lightning and a bit of far off thunder. The temperature went from the low 70's to the 80's, back and forth until the mid-60's took over the night. I pulled out some more blankets and again wondered why I don't keep a drawer full of wooly socks up here. But I forget. And the very idea of wooly socks at home makes me sweat. Maybe I'll remember one day, or maybe I'll just have to keep making plans to get home before my feet freeze, at least until I turn on a heater. 

Have a twirling Tuesday. Do something tiptappingly.


Friday, September 23, 2016

One Lane Walkabout

I've been walking up and down this dirt and now graveled road for 15 years, on and off, sometimes with years in-between. I never fail to see something new. Well, new to me, it's probably been there all along, just like on Culebra where I'm occasionally rocked to see a new tree or flower or critter. It's good to know there is always something to learn if eyes are kept open wide. 


Sometimes it's as simple as taking a photo of one thing and finding another something entirely. I took this because of the flowers, not even noticing the butterfly/moth, a matching accessory. 

There are so many weird bugs around here, all busy.
Fall continues to splash her colors with growing abandon
I was walking up the road yesterday, looking for a certain thing, when I saw something I'd completely overlooked. Vines heavy with grapes twisting in among some pines. I'm pretty sure they are muscadine grapes, the wild kind. And yes, they make good wine. Not these, these will make good munching.


And then there is this fellow, never ceasing to entrance me, elusive as hell to capture, hence the fun of the challenge.


Another day in a different sort of Paradox. 

The power being out at home reminds me of when I first came up here, when there was no electricity and reading was done by lamplight, making for early bedtimes. For two months. But I chose that, unlike it being forced down by unchoice in sticky weather. Fingers crossed for the fixing to be completed. Soon.

Have a free your feelings Friday. Do something unFretful.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Fall Equinox ~ 2016


A long and winding road
I always swear by the seasonal changes at home, challenging any Up North person to defy the subtle but truly obvious markings of the calendar cycles in the tropics. It seems so clear to me. Yes, I'm biased. My clarity of tropical fall doesn't end with cold, which is why I'm outside to watch the whole thing closely.


(Speaking of marking the calendar, I was looking back for old Equinox posts and found one saying I missed the anniversary of this blog. Which is the same day as my grandson Grayson's birthday, yesterday. So while this blog has undergone fits and starts and changes, it was eight years ago it I started it. Happy anniversary to me. Happy birthday, dear Gray!)


But yes, it's true. Up in higher climes of latitude, seasons are easy to pick out. Even with eyes closed, the crunchy sound of leaves on the ground is an easy giveaway. From the changes in Vermont to the ones here in North Carolina, Autumn is arriving, almost exactly on time. 

FYI - from The Grammarist - because I love this sort of thing and hope you do too


Autumn vs. Fall
Fall and autumn are both accepted and widely used terms for the season that comes between summer and winter. Some who consider British English the only true English regard fall as an American barbarism, but this attitude is not well founded. Fall is in fact an old term for the season, originating in English in the 16th century or earlier. It was originally short for fall of the year or fall of the leaf, but it commonly took the one-word form by the 17th century, long before the development of American English. So while the term is now widely used in the U.S., it is not exclusively American, nor is it American in origin.



Autumn came to English from the French automne in the 15th or 16th century, but it didn’t gain prominence until the 18th century. After that, while fall became the preferred term in the U.S., autumn became so prevalent in British English that fall as a term for the season was eventually considered archaic. This has changed, however, as fall has been gaining ground in British publications for some time.

So far today I've worn jeans and a fleece and a light jacket, jeans and a t-shirt, jeans and a t-shirt and a fleece and fuzzy moccasins. In the few days past, it's been shorts and a t-shirt and barefoot. Where are my socks?


From a distance, the changing colors are really beautiful, even when just starting. Up close, the truth of change isn't always so lavishly uniform. Except when it is.





I like the imperfections of change. Being in the midst of it myself, the obvious is pretty obvious. Along with a huge appreciation for youth, its pure beauty. Like seeing some object that starts up longing in my being, accepting it is well beyond my reach, and finally just really enjoying it for exactly what it is. Glad to have had it a part of my life, glad to have it over my shoulder, but damn, it sure is pretty from here.





There are so many analogies about the symbolism about this time of year. I'll share this one, because this weather brings out my old fashioned self. 


Have a thoughtful Thursday. Do something time taking. 

p.s. This has nothing to do with anything but the date and cuteness factors. Sept. 22, a few years back in Michigan. Oh fuzzy critters!!