A Breezy Start

We woke at our usual time Sunday morning. That is to say, we forgot to fall back. It wasn't until we were sitting in front of the woodstove sipping our morning coffee that we realized it was only 4 am. Rather than fretting over the loss of an extra hour of sleep we were happy to have more morning time. Now, days later, we still wake up an hour early; it takes a long time for our internal clocks to adjust. Besides, early morning is the best time of day.

November started cold, rainy, and blustery. Scads of oak leaves, blown off their limbs by the wind and rain, scuttle across the road like crabs across a beach. A band of six bluebirds hangs out along the field edge, all puffed up to stay warm. Strong winds blew a squirrel nest out of a shagbark hickory tree onto the road. Kodi and Henna stuck their noses into the densely packed leaves, spilling out the squirrel's hoard of nuts.

We are burning through the wood, faster than we planned, and might need to buy another cord to make sure we don't run out in spring.

The skunk that we've seen scurry off on our pre-dawn walks has likely gone dormant for a spell, curled up in hollow somewhere. Squirrels and chipmunks are everywhere, constantly on the move stashing this year's big crop of acorns and hickories. I wonder what chipmunks did before we created stonewalls, wood piles, drain pipes, and culverts--some of their present day hiding places.

This morning, the day after midterms, is calm and peaceful. Except that my team lost big across the country, not too bad in NH. Seems like a good day to head into the field.