9.19.21 ~ Merritt Family Forest, Groton, Connecticut
There’s a web like a spider’s web Made of silver light and shadows Spun by the moon in my room at night It’s a web made to catch a dream Hold it tight ‘til I awaken As if to tell me, my dream is all right ♫ (American Folk Song) ♫
We used to sing that song around the campfire when I was a girl. It’s such a comforting tune but my spider dreams were never all right. The following pictures are of the pappi of American burnweed seeds caught in another cobweb. I don’t think this spider could have been pleased with what his net trapped!
From the first opening of our eyes, it is the light that attracts us. We clutch aimlessly with our baby fingers at the gossamer-motes in the sunbeam. ~ Lucy Larcom (The Unseen Friend)
I am an incurable arachnophobe so I was happy to not see any spiders out and about. But I couldn’t help appreciating the handiwork they left behind.
9.7.21 ~ Eastern Point double-crested cormorant on the rocks
Another nice day Tuesday. After Labor Day the beach is “closed.” No lifeguards, concession stand or restrooms open. Fewer people to navigate through. Great for a morning walk. Got closer to a cormorant than I’ve ever been before, but as luck would have it, the sun was behind him and he came out as mostly a silhouette.
ring-billed gull on the rocks
immature male common eiders in the estuary
The gift for this morning was spotting four immature male common eiders hanging out in the estuary. I’ve only seen a female common eider once, last summer. New England is in the southernmost part of their range. I was enchanted.
A bird of the cold north with a warm reputation, the Common Eider is famous for the insulating quality of its down (typically harvested from nests without harming the birds). Breeding males are sharp white and black, with pistachio green accents on the neck. Females are barred with warm brown and black. These largest of all Northern Hemisphere ducks gather along rocky ocean shores, diving for mussels and other shellfish, which they pry from rocks using long, chisel-like bills. Males court females throughout the year with gentle, crooning calls. ~ All About Birds website
monarch butterfly on the lawn
The coronavirus pandemic rages on, surging especially among the unvaccinated. But the fully vaccinated are getting sick, too, which gave us pause and led to our postponing our trip to North Carolina to see our grandchildren until we can get our third dose of vaccine. We don’t even want to get the “mild” version of COVID-19. We’re back to wearing double masks in the grocery store. And because we’re super cautious we stopped going inside anywhere else. Avoiding crowded outdoor places, too. Masks at the farmers market.
My sister reports from Connecticut College that on Monday, 20 students who were experiencing COVID-19 symptoms and some of their friends were tested. Through contact tracing, it was determined that the students who had contracted the virus had been socializing without masks in cars, in friends’ rooms or apartments, at parties or in bars. Tuesday morning the test results showed an additional 34 students had tested positive. All were moved to isolation housing.
double-crested cormorant in the river
Connecticut College requires all students and staff to be fully vaccinated (and to wear masks indoors) so these are breakthrough cases. Beverly spent one week with us but is now teaching remotely from her home and probably won’t be back here for the semester. 🙁 I’m just glad we were able to see each other a few times this summer before this new social distancing period seems prudent. Sigh.
It’s been a while since I’ve made note of our local coronavirus statistics. We have had 3,014 detected cases in our town. Connecticut has had 376,747 confirmed cases and 8,395 deaths. We’re coming close to the 8,500 number of estimated deaths we had in the 1918 Influenza Pandemic. On September 8th we had 403 new cases. Overall, 2,368,830 people or 66% of Connecticut’s population has been fully vaccinated.
driftwood caught in the rocks
And now CNN is reporting that 1 in 4 new cases of COVID-19 are in children.
summer’s end
It’s nowhere near over.
Update: As of Thursday 107 students have now tested positive. Many are going home instead of quarantining on campus. Seems like that would not help to contain the spread.
Labor Day weekend with autumn weather! I didn’t think it was possible. We couldn’t resist taking a morning walk in the woods in spite of mosquito and poison ivy threats. I’ve been waiting impatiently for this kind of day all summer.
American burnweed
To include nature in our stories is to return to an older form of human awareness in which nature is not scenery, not a warehouse of natural resources, not real estate, not a possession, but a continuation of community. ~ Barry Lopez (High Country News, September 14, 1998)
smaller bug with bee on goldenrod
As I’ve often said, I love the sunlight this time of year, in the months surrounding the equinoxes. It seems just right, not too dim nor too bright, and it immerses everything I see in a wonderful presence. Sometimes my camera even catches it the way I perceive it.
Any patch of sunlight in a wood will show you something about the sun which you could never get from reading books on astronomy. These pure and spontaneous pleasures are “patches of Godlight” in the woods of our experience. ~ C. S. Lewis (Not a Tame Lion: The Spiritual Legacy of C. S. Lewis & The Chronicles of Narnia)
waterfall in Fort Hill Brook
daddy-longlegs on the top trunk of a tree, snapped off during Hurricane Henri
Impermanence and fragility are essential components of beauty, and of love. In some mysterious way, we are all here together, one whole happening, awake to the sorrow, the joy, and the inconceivability of every fresh and instantly vanishing moment, each of us a bright light in the dazzling darkness. ~ Joan Tollifson (Facebook, February 24, 2021)
8.29.21 ~ Harkness Memorial State Park Waterford, Connecticut
Last weekend I went with Tim to the Connecticut MG Club’s ‘British by the Sea’ Gathering. I liked the blue MGB GT (above), the color, knowing nothing of cars… Tim, however, was hoping to see a Triumph Herald, his first set of wheels, but came away disappointed.
He did enjoy looking at the 1947 MG (above). I couldn’t help wondering if he has a thing for red vehicles from 1947! (Take a peek at the 1947 Ford Pickup he was admiring a couple of months ago in this post: with fields of lavender)
This tiny Wolseley Hornet Mk III (above) caught Tim’s eye because he said he had never heard of Wolseley Motors before…
I was amused by the sticker placed on one of its windows, indicating the auto was actually its actual size. 🤣
The above buggy was made in 1937 and had only three wheels.
After we browsed for a while I noticed some flowers peeping over the hedge surrounding the nearby cutting garden. We took a little detour to get a few end-of-summer snapshots!
Back at home…
“Tall Sea Tale” by Charles Wysocki
… on Monday I started and finished the above 300-piece puzzle in one afternoon. With all the practice I’ve been getting during the pandemic it seems I’m getting faster and am developing a marked preference for Charles Wysocki jigsaw puzzles.
On Wednesday the remnants of Hurricane Ida arrived, and by the time she left Thursday morning, had dumped 5 inches of rain on us. When I looked out the window early Wednesday afternoon I spotted a mourning dove hunkering down for the storm in one of the arborvitaes.
Each time I looked over the next several hours he was still sitting there in the same place and position. Finally, just before dark, he was gone. We heard some thunder rumbling in the night but thankfully no tornadoes or flash flooding in our neck of the woods.
“Flower Girls – A Summer’s Night” by Augustus Edwin Mulready
As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away — Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy — A Quietness distilled As Twilight long begun, Or Nature spending with herself Sequestered Afternoon — The Dusk drew earlier in — The Morning foreign shone — A courteous, yet harrowing Grace, As Guest, that would be gone — And thus, without a Wing Or service of a Keel Our Summer made her light escape Into the Beautiful — ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #935)
At about 4:00 pm the storm started up again, but with lighter rain and wind. I guess it was the eye of the storm we went through. My daughter called from North Carolina and while I was talking to her the blue jay came by for a third time today. This time I put down the phone and picked up the camera and then got back to Larisa, who completely understood her distracted mother.
Turns out the reason my new friend looked so bedraggled is that he is molting!
He seemed happy to pose in one of the arborvitae trees. Then I remembered an experience I had with a blue jay over a decade ago. It had appeared and called outside my window just before I got an unexpected tornado warning. I wrote a post about that here: my first tornado warning!
When my sister called, a little after my daughter had called, I told her about the new blue jay story. To Beverly it was obvious, our mother was looking out for me again. Our mother’s nickname was BJ and she had made the same connection back then in 2010. (Beverly got her own bird visit recently. A cardinal built a nest in our mother’s andromeda bush outside her kitchen window.)
rain from Hurricane Henri
We never lost power and the weather is much calmer. I decided it was safe to take some chicken out of the freezer to thaw in the fridge for supper tomorrow. Since I woke up at 3:30 this morning I’m feeling tired and ready for bed after all the day’s excitement. Good night, dear readers! Thank you so much for all your lovely comments today! 💙
The sun is almost out and it has stopped raining and the the wind is still. A strange period of calm. Tim says we are in the eye of the storm. According to the experts, the storm made landfall at 12:30 pm at Westerly, Rhode Island, about 17 miles east of us. The city where our daughter was born. Where we go to see bigger waves at Napatree Point. Where we used to go to see Shakespeare-in-the-Park. (Wilcox Park) We will see if storm conditions return.
Early this morning as the rain started up, a bedraggled blue jay landed on the railing of our balcony and peered inside. I wished him luck in the storm and off he flew. I forgot all about him. Well, he just came back and gave us another look. He looked just as disheveled as he did earlier. After checking me out he flew into the arborvitae and gave an unusual call, a clear whistle. I did some research and found that it might have been “an alarm for a low-intensity threat.” Interesting…
We still have power. The storm track has just changed again, a little more to the west. The eye, what’s left of it, is over Block Island and is very close to us now. It might make landfall right over us! The tropical storm is disintegrating as it travels over our cooler waters. We’re getting heavy rain and 46 mph winds from the north, which are pushing the the storm surge from our coastline out to Long Island’s north shore. The full moon/high tide/storm surge combo won’t be quite as bad as they thought it could be. It’s fun watching the news people on TV standing outside in familiar spots, getting drenched from the wind-driven rain and with dramatic waves crashing behind them. Honestly, this is no worse than some of our nor’easters — so far.
I was going to post the latest predicted storm track but the the image wouldn’t save for me, so I went to WikiArt to find a painting…
It’s 6:15 am, we have wind and rain, temperature 74°F (23°C), Pressure 30 inHg, wind moderate at 20 mph. The outer bands of Hurricane Henri have arrived. The worst of it for us should be between 9 am and 4 pm. Yesterday afternoon the track started moving east again and when I woke up this morning it had moved again back to a predicted landfall east of us in Rhode Island, just over the state line.
My sister Beverly and I were reminiscing on the phone last night. Back in 1991, when she called our old New England Cape Codder grandparents after Hurricane Bob, Grandfather scolded her for worrying. “This house has been standing here since 1880 and it isn’t about to fall apart now.” He was 86 at the time and taking care of our grandmother, who was quite ill with dementia, at home. It was good remembering his calm and steady approach to life.
If we don’t lose power I will post weather updates from time to time. I think Grandfather would approve! 🙂
