Friday, 11-26
Morning. A broil of cold cloud clinging to the ridge between Jenning’s Peak and Sandwich Mountain slowly dissipates. Background clouds glow orange before cooling white. A sleety-snowy mix covers everything with an icy, white crust. A good day to burn the brush pile. Left too many years, the pile combined some new blueberry and apple pruning on the top with a heart of woody compost with layers and various stages in between. So, it’s been leaking carbon for a while, yesterday speeded up the process.
Saturday, 11-27
A little ice age takes hold in the night, freezing the water for ducks, chickens and goats, hard as quartz. Winter shows itself with squally snow (and squirrelly retreat). The layer of ice dusted with fine powder.
Sunday, 11-28
The day begins bright, warms and ends with iron-gray skies, but the night clears things up again. A sky full of stars as the day ends: to the west, Orion, moving north, the Twins, Big Dog, Little Dog, the Charioteer, Big Bear…
Monday, 11-29
Morning. Jupiter hangs in dark branches to the west. Mountains are shadows, ridges rimmed by soft blue that rises and graduates to gray-blue smoke, then night blue. Time passes, but Jupiter stays, its sky a soft purple. How many colors of blue can I see before sunrise? I anticipate day.