Rosslyn Redux

Tag: William Daniel Ross

  • Veggie Patch Lullaby

    It’s that time of year again when we put the vegetable garden to sleep.

    I’ve been asked if it isn’t bittersweet ripping out limp, frosted tomato plants and tilling under the rotting stems of zucchini and cantaloupe.

    Leaves are gone and frost is frequent, but Rosslyn's veggie patch is no crying matter.
    The leaves are gone and frost is frequent, but Rosslyn’s veggie patch is no crying matter. Far from it!

    And you know, it really isn’t bittersweet. It’s a celebration of another bountiful summer, eating delicious, fresh produce harvested from a small plot of dirt a short walk from my kitchen. And it’s a celebration of the bounty yet to come. I know that sounds sort of “woo-woo” Pollyanna-ish, but I genuinely mean it. Putting this summer’s garden to bed is actually a way of starting on next summer’s vegetable garden.

    I love composting almost as much as gardening!

    Besides, there’s still so much happening in the garden. Shortly we’ll begin harvesting leeks and that’ll continue through Thanksgiving, maybe even Christmas if the ground doesn’t freeze.

    I've stripped the Brussels sprouts in the hopes of fattening their frost-sweetened treats.
    I’ve stripped the Brussels sprouts in the hopes of fattening their frost-sweetened treats.

    And I’ve just finished knocking most of the foliage off of our Brussels sprouts so they can continue to fill out. I’m about a month late, so it may not have as much effect as it would’ve otherwise. Under the best of circumstances this practice helps fatten up the sprouts.

    The artichokes provide the only bittersweet harmony in my veggie patch lullaby. Out of a dozen plants, only six survived the swampy May and June early season. Plants that thrive in the sandy, dry, relatively temperate Monterey Peninsula struggle in clay soil flooded by rain after rain after rain. And of the six plants that survived, they developed slowly and bore no chokes. Three of the plants are at prime July first condition today! I’ve accepted that we won’t be eating any homegrown artichokes this year, but I’m not giving up hope for next year.

    The Imperial Star artichokes remain healthy, but they failed to produce even a single choke this summer.
    The Imperial Star artichokes remain healthy, but they failed to produce even a single choke this summer.

    Given the decent artichoke crop me managed two summers ago and the outstanding bumper crop last year, I’m going to continue growing artichokes at Rosslyn. In fact, I’m going to undertake a bold experiment.

    Ever since discovering that Imperial Star Artichokes can be grown successfully in our abbreviated norther season, I’ve been tempted to defy conventional wisdom.

    Although artichokes in more forgiving climes can be grown as perennials, severe North Country winters and a short season require transplanting healthy, established juvenile artichokes and accepting that the crop will not endure from season to season.

    It's time to start harvesting the leeks, perfect timing for outside grilling and soup.
    It’s time to start harvesting the leeks, perfect timing for outside grilling and soup.

    Annual artichokes are certainly better than no artichokes, but given our fruitless season I’ve decided to see if I can’t successfully overwinter our plants.

    I plan to cut them back almost to their base once they’ve actually stopped growing and become dormant. And then, before we get any deep frosts or snow, I’ll bury the plants in straw, leaves and organic mulch to try and insulate them over the winter.

    Nothing lost in trying!

    November greens (and purples) that continue to nourish us.
    November greens (and purples) that continue to nourish us.

    And I’ve overlooked the still productive raised bed, still flush with greens. Although some of the spinach has browned off, and most of the kale is gone (some pest really did a number on it late this fall), the beets, beet “purples”, Swiss chard and lettuce continue to feed us.

    So you see, the veggie patch lullaby is a happy, hopeful tune!

    How do you feel when it’s time to put your veggie patch to bed for the winter?

  • La Vie en Rose

    La Vie en Rose: Rosslyn boathouse during late February sunset (Credit: Kristen Eden)
    La Vie en Rose: Rosslyn boathouse during a late February sunset. (Credit: Kristen Eden)

    Je vois la vie en rose
    I see life through rose-colored glasses — Édith Piaf

    Édith Piaf’s “La Vie En Rose” – usually translated as “Life Through Rose-Colored Glasses” – inevitably, joyfully came to mind when this sexy photograph was shared with me on Facebook by an Essex friend and neighbor, Janice Koenig. It turns out the photographer, Kristen Eden, is also an Essex neighbor and, if Facebook counts, a new friend.

    Kristen’s photographs (see gallery below for a few more) capture warmth and tenderness, unusual characteristics for mid-winter images of icy Lake Champlain. Even on sunny days our North Country light in February tends to by harsh and severe, so these unlikely photos were a welcome sight. They lit up Facebook prompting “likes” and comments from many local and distant fans. My downsized, watermarked versions of her photos don’t fairly do the originals justice, but you can enjoy the image above, “Ducks swimmin’ in pink lemonade” (in larger, better format) on Kristen Eden Fine Art and Photography.

    Sensuous & Harsh: La Vie En Rose

    Piaf, France’s “Little Sparrow”, similarly blends the sensuous and the harsh. Perhaps it’s the scratchy old recordings. Or her crushed velvet sound. Or her swooping transitions and confident refrains. Who knows? A siren’s mystery. Listen and decide for yourself.

    Piaf’s song wove itself inextricably into my already Pollyanna-prone psyche during my college years, and despite the lyrics’s unlikely resonance, they remain evocative and hypnotic half a lifetime later. Piaf’s sensuous sound makes me nostalgic for the years I lived in Paris even now as I type these words about photographs that remind me how much I am enchanted with Essex, a world away from The City of Light.

    Thanks for your Rose-colored Glasses

    Thanks, Kristen, for your stunning photographs. And thanks, Janice, for bringing them to my attention.

  • Meadowmount and Rosslyn

    Rosslyn Boathouse, by Steven Rochen
    Rosslyn boathouse photographed from Essex ferry dock (photo credit Steven Rochen)

    What a pleasure to discover on Monday morning that the newest friend of the Rosslyn Redux Facebook page was Steven Rochen. Who you might ask? (Though, if you’re a Meadowmount School of Music alum, you probably already know!) Mr. Rochen first crossed my radar back in February of this year when I happened upon an interesting photograph of Rosslyn’s boathouse. The following was originally posted in “Rosslyn Boathouse in August 2005“:

    Another Rosslyn boathouse sighting, this time discovered via Google Earth. The photo was taken by czechsteve on Panoramio.com on 2005/08/12 which is approximately one year before my wife and I purchased Rosslyn. The wooden Chris Craft on a mooring between our boathouse and the Essex ferry dock belonged to our neighbor, but he has since replaced it with a sailboat which is visible in more recent photographs.

    If you go click through to the original photo and enlarge it, you can see the degree of disrepair that we inherited when we took ownership and began restoring this stately old maritime structure.

    I have contacted the photographer to suggest a title because the image is currently untitled.

    Update: Today is Wednesday, February 2, 2011 and I’ve just heard from the photographer:

    I have added a title to your boathouse picture. Thanks for your input – I have seen that boathouse for many years (I’ve been coming for summers in the Adirondacks since I was a teenage student at the Meadowmount School of Music coming from Texas to study violin.)

    Was the boathouse there in 1980? I don’t remember when I first saw it from the ferry crossing but I have always enjoyed seeing it – that is why I took the photo years ago…I can’t wait to see what you have done…

    All best wishes! Steven Rochen – a.k.a. czechsteve!

    Wonderful response. I’m excited to have made the connection, and I’m hoping that I may one day have the chance to meet Steven Rochen and give him a tour of the boathouse which has intrigued him for decades.

  • Rosslyn Roundup, May 4

    Rosslyn boathouse, January 8, 2012 (Photo credit: Glenn Estus, via Flickr)
    Rosslyn boathouse, January 8, 2012 (Photo credit: Glenn Estus)

    It’s time for another Rosslyn Roundup to share everything Rosslyn-related that I didn’t get a chance to post over the last few weeks. Champlain Valleysprings are unpredictable and exciting, sometimes arriving early (this year) and other times hiding behind rain, rain, rain (last year).

    We’ve been celebrating our good fortune (quietly, with fingers crossed, while chewing on garlic cloves) that Spring 2012 has been considerably drier than Spring 2011. Remember the devastating Lake Champlain floods last year? For the better part of two months we experienced history making high water levels which inundated the Town of Essex and swamped Rosslyn boathouse under three feet of water for weeks on end. But we were lucky. Damage was minimal, and we recovered. Actually… we’re still recovering. Rebuilding the stone walls along the waterfront is ongoing, but that story for another blog post!

    It’s a bit hard to believe that I launched the Rosslyn Redux blog just over a year ago. I’ve been finding my feet, trying to decide what goes into the book, what goes into the performance and what goes into the blog. I’m still filtering through artifacts and unadopted stories, but the most everything has fallen into place. The book (books? booklings?) are nearing their inevitable (and looong awaited) right of passage. And the blog, evolving in fits and starts has nevertheless averaged almost one post per week. Expect that rate to increase now that I’m in the homestretch with manuscripts.

    Okay, enough bellybutton gazing. Well, almost enough. A couple of other interesting items to relay before plunging into the Rosslyn Roundup.

    May Day was the busiest day on the blog ever! In addition to “Reawakening Rosslyn” which drew record readers, there were many people who showed up a day late to read “Old Glory & Mud Season“. The combination of these two posts included a magic elixir… If only I knew what it was! Please don’t hesitate to share your preferences for future posts, and I’ll do my best to honor your wishes.

    I have to admit that I was pretty thrilled with the reception that “Reawakening Rosslyn” received. You may have already figured that it’s a central theme in the story of our epic home and property rehabilitation.

    And as it turns out rattlesnakes are another hot topic. Between “Rosslyn Rattlesnake” and “Timber Rattlesnake: Fact, Fiction & Mystery” (posted on EssexonLakeChamplain.com) I seem to have tapped a universal fascination with poisonous pit vipers. Who would have anticipated that? Bizarre.

    Less surprising, my post about cartoonist Sid Couchey was also well received. Proof that whether we all admit it or not, we all love cartoons! And if you ever met my Essex friend and neighbor, you’d love Couchey too. He will remain a local legend for many years to come. I feel fortunate each time I pass Couchey’s painting of Rosslyn boathouse which hangs in our morning room. I’ve decided that the fellow chatting with Champy — the Lake Champlain monster — at the end of the boathouse pier is the cartoonist himself. I’m listening carefully and hoping to hear the joke that they’re sharing.

    Okay, about that roundup… Did you see that spooky photograph of Rosslyn boathouse at the top of this post? Spectacular. Eerie. The image is called “Essex, NY Boathouse #3” and it was shot on January 8, 2012 by local photographer, Glenn Estus. We have several of his photographs hanging on the walls at Rosslyn, and you can see plenty more in his Flickr feed if your interested.

    Speaking of photographs, check out the new Rosslyn Redux board on Pinterest to see a growing collection of Rosslyn photographs shared by people all over the globe. Add your own photos, and I’ll heap praise and accolades upon you.

    And you’ll find more photographs by me and others on the Rosslyn Redux Facebook page which has grown steadily in membership over the last year. If you’re not already a friend of the forthcoming Rosslyn Redux memoir, now’s the time. Please friend the page and feel free to share your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you.

    Enough. Weekend. Enjoy!

  • House of Dreams

    House of Dreams

    House of Dreams (Quotation by Gaston Bachelard via Keri Smith)
    House of Dreams (Quotation by Gaston Bachelard via Keri Smith)

    Hat top to Keri Smith, one of my favorite doodlers (I’m talking about the short-short list!) for sharing this Eureka moment quotation on her blog.

    In honor of Gaston Bachelard, I’d like to subtly bastardize the sentiment:

    I should say: Rosslyn shelters day-dreaming, Rosslyn protects the dreamers, and Rosslyn allows us to dream in peace.

    It’s not always 100% evident to me. When a foundation leak graces us with a basement flood. Or Lake Champlain spills out of her banks and into our boathouse. Nor when a 100+ year old maple tree succumbs to blasting winds and smashes the handmade fence. Etc.

    But on afternoons like today, the smallest things, like the way the morning light illuminates the carriage barn windows, I know. I understand that this wonderful old, living and breathing home provides for us in innumerable ways every day. I know that Rosslyn is a house of dreams and daydreamers. And for this I am extremely grateful.

    Thank you, Keri and Gaston for the timely reminder!

  • Autumn Vegetable Garden Update

    Autumn Vegetable Garden Update

    It’s been getting considerably cooler at night lately, and feeling fall-like much earlier than the last few years. We’ve already had two nights that broke forty degrees! But still no killing frost.

    The vegetable garden is still thick with produce. We’ve been eating cantaloupes and musk melons just as quickly as we can. The same goes for eggplant and tomatoes. We’ve lost the battle with cucumbers which are getting so big they’re almost obscene. I have to apologize before giving them away as a gifts lest I offend someone with tender sensibilities. Fortunately they still taste good. The key is to slice them the long way and scoop out all of the seeds the same way you do with melons.

    Several varieties of tomatoes have succumbed to blights. Fortunately the affliction hasn’t really damaged many tomatoes themselves, just the plants. It seems to primarily be an issue with the determinate varieties. 75% of the indeterminate plants are still growing like gangbusters, pumping out large, delicious heirloom tomatoes.

    The zucchini seem to have gone dormant, although they’re still producing lots of blossoms. I would love to cook up some squash blossoms before the season ends, but haven’t managed to do it yet.

    Lots and lots of sweet peppers too. And a full crop of green beans, spinach, lettuce, Swiss chard, and baby kale coming online soon. I grew a small quantity of beets with the intention of harvesting their “greens” (actually, their deep purple/red). We ate about half of the crop in our salads this summer, but at this point many of them have grown into full grown beets. So we’ll end up harvesting those as well this fall.

    What else? The Brussels sprouts are just beginning to set, so I need to snap off most of the foliage to concentrate their energy into sprouts. We pulled up all the corn stocks and composted them. The leaks will be ready to start harvesting in about a month, and only the artichokes have failed to produce. After last summer’s bumper crop, it’s a mystery. Half of the plants succumbed to root rot during the rainy month of June. And the half dozen plants that lived are runty and unproductive. To date none have set even the smallest of chokes. Not giving up yet though…

  • Early Autumn

    Early Autumn? The weather Channel tells the story...
    Early Autumn? The weather Channel tells the story…

    Autumn appears to be coming early this year. For at least a week nights have been dropping into the chilly 50s. And this morning I see that temperatures slid even lower.

    Perhaps this is normal? Yet it doesn’t seem normal. The 40s in mid August? In Essex, New York? On the shores of Lake Champlain which usually acts as a “heat sink” effectively extending our warm season?

    Early Autumn’s Reminder

    Early Autumn? The thermometer outside my bedroom verifies the chilly story...
    Early Autumn? The thermometer outside my bedroom verifies the chilly story…

    Whether or not early autumn is here to stay, it’s serving as a reminder. Get out and enjoy the temperate weather before it’s gone. Today and tomorrow promise to be sunny and warm, perfect days for cycling and hiking and gardening. Perhaps even windsurfing? Or wake surfing? Hopefully one or the other!

    And there’s another goal I’ve set but neglected for several years. I’d like to make a habit of working in the boathouse for a few hours away from my study, my desk, my piles and files. No better time than the present. No better motivator than a crisp, early autumn morning when I can faintly see my breath in the sir as Griffin sniffs around the yard. Soon it will be too cold to work in the boathouse. Soon…

    Anticipating Autumn

    Of course, early autumn whispers aren’t all “Caution!” and “Carpe diem…” After all, Adirondack autumns might well be the finest time of the year. The harvest reaches its peak. The hiking and biking are unquestionably superior to all other times of the year. Photography. Sunsets. Sailing. Fly fishing. Fall foliage. The day the ginkgo leaves shower down…

    In short, August’s recent summer lullaby marks both a bittersweet ending and a joyful beginning. It’s a time to savor summer’s delicacies and anticipate autumn adventures ahead. I think I’ll call a chum and bum a sail!

  • Garter Snake in the Snow in Summer

    Garter snake gliding out of the Snow in Summer ground cover at Rosslyn in Essex, NY.
    Garter snake gliding out of the Snow in Summer ground cover at Rosslyn in Essex.

    That was one jumbo garter snake, friends! Even longer than the timber rattlesnake I witnessed a couple of weeks ago in a friends barn, though falling short in girth, rattles, and venom.

    Though this Common Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis) was docile and quickly retreated into a crevice in the stone wall, it’s a common misconception that these familiar garden-variety snakes are not venomous. They are.

    According to Dr. Bryan Fry, a biologist from the University of Melbourne, garter snakes needn’t be feared, but the do use venom to subdue their prey.

    “Most of the snakes that we think of as nonvenomous are actually venomous,” he explained. Garter snakes and many other supposedly nonvenomous snakes actually produce tiny amounts of venom. Dr. Fry is quick to point out that this does not mean that garter snakes are dangerous. “All they need to do is stun a frog or slow it down a bit, and it’s enough to help them,” he said. (The New York Times)

    I recall being bitten by a testy garter snake multiple times as a young boy. Then, as now, I was intrigued with snakes. I was less than five years old, playing in the yard at “The Farm”. I no longer recall where or how I captured the small snake, but I knew enough to discern between dangerous snakes and the almost harmless garter snake.

    Each time I would pick up the increasingly angry snake, it would bite my hand. I would drop it into the grass and then stoop to pick it up again. Another bite. Drop. Pick up.

    I was a slow learner.

    Despite a collection of small nips, there was no lasting damage. Apparently no venom made its way into my young hand.

    Although garter snakes are not considered venomous, they have a gland above the upper jaw on either side (corresponding to the venom gland of vipers and other venomous snakes) that produces potentially toxic secretions. In general, bites from garter snakes are harmless because these snakes lack fangs and thus cannot efficiently inject the gland’s secretions. However, prolonged bites by western terrestrial and common garter snakes have caused swelling and localized bleeding in people, presumably because unusually large amounts of the secretions seeped into the victims. (Online Nevada Encyclopedia)

    I rarely pick up garter snakes these days. I’m not sure exactly why, but I don’t. Maybe I’m more sensitive to their plight, aware that being pulled out of your habitat by a clumsy giant just so he can get a closer look isn’t exactly what I’d wish for were in the serpent’s handsome black and yellow striped skin. Or scales…

    Nevertheless I enjoy finding them, especially when they’re as big and healthy as this one. I discovered him sunning in the Snow in Summer, a soft cushiony groundcover that must have felt pretty pleasant with the morning sun. Until a gawking giant and his nosy Labrador Retriever came along.

  • Hammock Days of Indian Summer

    Rosslyn Boathouse, Indian Summer (Photo by Eve Ticknor)
    Rosslyn Boathouse, Indian Summer (Photo by Eve Ticknor)

    A warm thank you to friend, photographer, and some time Essex neighbor Eve Ticknor for giving me these evocative images of Rosslyn’s boathouse.

    You will see in my photographs, ways to see water, not just to look at it. Honing your observation skills will open your eyes to other worlds. ~ Eve Ticknor (Aquavisions)

    Rosslyn Hammock, Indian Summer (Photo by Eve Ticknor)
    Rosslyn Hammock, Indian Summer (Photo by Eve Ticknor)

    Indeed. Eve’s photographs capture  dreamy abstractions that don’t easily reveal their source. Rarely does she share images as literal and representational as these. So I considered myself very fortunate when I received her email recently.

    The photos were accompanied with a question: Is that you in the hammock? She had shot the photographs from near the Belden Noble Memoiral Library on the Essex ferry dock. At first, she hadn’t noticed that someone was reading in the    hammock. It wasn’t until she saw my flip-flops on the deck that she realized someone was contentedly resting.

    She caught me!

    Image of Indian Summer

    Although we’ve already experienced some chilly days and nights this fall, we’re also enjoying frequent installments of Indian summer. I’ve taken advantage of a few such days to grab my tablet and work lakeside from the comfort of my “corner office”.

    Eve explores refracted and reflected images on the surface of water, never using Photoshop or filters to alter her images. What we see is what she saw. And yet she succeeds in capturing all sorts of whimsical illusions on the water surface.

    Illusion of Indian Summer

    And yet these fun photos are no illusion. I was busted midafternoon playing hooky. Can you blame me?

  • Imagining Rosslyn Boathouse, Spring 2006

    Rosslyn boathouse at sunrise (Digital doodle: virtualDavis)
    Rosslyn boathouse at sunrise (Digital doodle: virtualDavis)

    “Coffee? You don’t even drink coffee,” Susan said.

    “I know. I know it doesn’t make any sense. But I’m walking through Rosslyn early in the morning with a steaming cup of coffee…”

    I hadn’t drunk coffee since college, and I’d obviously never wandered around Rosslyn at the crack of dawn either. But I kept having this vision.

    “It’s just barely sunrise. You’re still sleeping. I’m up, drifting from room-to-room, slowly, haltingly, studying the way the sunlight illuminates each room. And those green walls in the parlor? They vibrate in the morning light, like new maple leaves in the springtime.”

    I described the shaft of sunlight stretching across the workshop floor. I described the calm, the quiet except for an occasional creaky floorboard. I described Tasha, our Labrador Retriever, padding along with me, anxious for breakfast.

    “Tasha sighs and lies down each time I stop. And I stop a lot… to watch the morning unfolding, to watch the sunlight shimmering on the rippled lake, to watch the boathouse clapboards glowing yellow orange for a few minutes as the sun rises above the Green Mountains.”

    “I was imagining the boathouse too,” Susan said. “Not like today, but like it was ours, like we lived at Rosslyn. I was thinking, the boathouse’s just begging for a hammock. Don’t you think? A big, two-person hammock in the open-air part, under the roof. Can you imagine lying in a hammock in the evening, listening to the waves?” Susan paused, lost in the idea. “And think of the dinner parties,” she continued. “A table set for four. White linens and candles and sheer curtains billowing in the breeze…”

  • Midwinter Gator Service

    Midwinter Gator Service

    I mentioned the other day that frosty, persistent midwinter is the perfect time to get Rosslyn’s lawn and field equipment serviced so that it’s ready for prime time once the snow retreats and the dandelions bloom.

    A few days before the tractor was picked up, the folks at Mountain View Equipment (formerly Giroux Brothers) retrieved the John Deere “truckling” for a top-to-bottom Gator service. The machine is a couple of years old, and this is the first time we’ve sent it in for a checkup. The battery has been running down between uses; the left rear side panel is cracked from an encounter with the backhoe teeth; and fluids, filters, etc. were due for a change.

    Gator Service & Home Again, Jiggety-Jig

    As it turns out, the battery hasn’t been charging since the day we took ownership of the Gator. The in-line fuse that enables the battery to get charged was never installed at the John Deere factory. Hmmm… Quality control?

    The v-belt was ready for replacement ($60, ouch!) and the fuel sender was giving inaccurate readings. Not mission critical, but it would be a pain in the posterior to be working in the back meadows and find out that the Gator was out of gas despite a full gauge reading. And the replacement panel was installed. All of the routine maintenance (filters, spark plugs, fluids, etc.) was undertaken including a pressure wash and spit shine. Well, minus the spit, I hope.

    Gator service complete.

    Gator Service Done, We’re Ready for Spring

    With a freshly spruced up Gator, all we need is for the snow to melt and the temperatures to double. And – as if on cue – a blast of warm weather spoiled us on Tuesday (when the Gator was dropped off) despite a blizzard forecast.

  • Aftermath: Winter Storm Damage

    Winter storm damage throughout Rosslyn's woods and meadows.
    Winter storm damage throughout Rosslyn’s woods and meadows.

    My enthusiasm for an early season blizzard was rewarded (punished?) severalfold. Be careful what you wish for! Remember the section about potential winter storm damage in my last post?

    Impacts Travel conditions will remain difficult to hazardous due to snow covered roads and visibilities occasionally dropping below one half mile. In addition the weight of the snow and light ice accumulations may lead to additional scattered power outages… (via National Weather Service, Alert: Winter Storm Warning)

    The weight of the snow was significant not only because of how much snow fell, but also because of how unbelievably wet and dense the snow was. It reminded me of spring snow. Heavy!

    The good news is that it looks beautiful. Postcard perfect. Except when you notice the destruction wrought by the weight of the wet snow. That’s the bad news. So many trees were overwhelmed by the snow load. Massive limbs snapped off of numerous white pines. The majority of the birch trees are doubled over. Some will recover. Others will remain bowed forever. And, sadly, a few will snap.

    Swinger of Birches

    I can’t help but draw upon one of my favorite poems, “Birches” by Robert Frost, albeit with a shadow of sadness. Here are a couple of the most relevant lines. First, this chummy setup.

    When I see birches bend to left and right
    Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
    I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
    But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay
    As ice-storms do… (The Poetry Foundation)

    And then Frost’s melancholic realization that the trees will never reach for the stars again.

    They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
    And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
    So low for long, they never right themselves:
    You may see their trunks arching in the woods
    Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
    Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
    Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. (The Poetry Foundation)

    Surveying the Winter Storm Damage

    My wish for a x-country ski outing before departing for the holidays was granted, though I might have thought it through more thoroughly before hurling my pipe dream into the falling flakes.

    [pullquote]But as we glided into the first wooded area we realized how many trees were broken.[/pullquote]

    Susan and I enjoyed the first leg of our ski, from house past the barns and through the orchard. Proceeding through the gates in across the first meadow we were still excited about the fresh snow which so completely blanketed everything.

    But as we glided into the first wooded area we realized how many trees were broken. We skied all around the perimeter, and I even attempted a few inner loops. Everywhere devastation. At one point I even had to remove my skies to climb through twisted limbs completely obstructing the trail. Susan waged a valiant war against the limbs still laden but not yet snapped, poking and prodding with her pole to release the snow so the branches could spring up. But there were so many trees and there was so much snow. As darkness fell we glided back to the house with spirits sagging.

    I’ll revisit this in a couple of days, perhaps in more detail. Or perhaps just with additional photos. For now I must hustle to get packed…