9/9/09

Cooler Weather, Gazebo Warmth, and Harvest

Cooler, rainy weather Monday brought changes in routine at our house. I discovered I could finally close the little windows in the kitchen by the sink. I didn't need cool air in the morning inside. I noticed a change in cat behavior. Kit and Isabelle are spending more time inside, especially snuggling close together to stay warm.

We finally enjoyed a fire in the gazebo. Nothing like pulling out long sleeved shirts, fleece, warm socks, and relaxing in front of the fire. JEJ decided it was a perfect opportunity to "rest his eyes" .Shelby did too! The autumn joy sedum, asters, and mums are all showing their fall colors. JEJ dug up 60 pounds of red potatoes and the grapes are ripening on the vine. The roses are beginning to form rose hips. If the frost doesn't come early we will continue to harvest tomatoes, beans, cucumbers, zucchini, carrots, beets, and cabbage. I also see the glow of fruit on our apple trees by the house. It is time to bring in more jars for a marathon canning session. Two more weeks and we can officially welcome fall. I think my favorite season is going to come a bit early this year.

9/7/09

Honoring Rain

Rain showers have been few and far between in August. I celebrate a good rain shower whenever we can get it. The area is very dry and fire danger is high. Yesterday we had one of those good rain showers that helped settle the dust, clean the leaves on plants, and make everything smell fresh. Here is a sequence of photos captured during the shower.



9/6/09

Sibling Assignment #106: Second Grade and Growing a Love for Autumn

a neighborhood in Kellogg on an autumn day

Silver Valley Girl gave the sibling assignment this week.
Write about one of your earliest memories of being in school.
Raymond Pert wrote about early experiences with his intellectual abilities here. Silver Valley Girl will hopefully find time to post soon now that the 80's birthday bash and slumber party with a group of young teenage girls is over at her house.

I have recollections of school earlier than second grade, but while reading Ted Kooser's American Life in Poetry the other evening, the poem below brought back strong images of a special day from second grade. Perhaps my imagery wouldn't have been as stunning in my poem, but I certainly could have written a similar recollection.

Gathering Leaves in Grade School


They were smooth ovals,
and some the shade of potatoes—
some had been moth-eaten
or spotted, the maples
were starched, and crackled
like campfire.

We put them under tracing paper
and rubbed our crayons
over them, X-raying
the spread of their bones
and black, veined catacombs.

We colored them green and brown
and orange, and
cut them out along the edges,
labeling them deciduous
or evergreen.

All day, in the stuffy air of the classroom,
with its cockeyed globe,
and nautical maps of ocean floors,
I watched those leaves

lost in their own worlds
flap on the pins of the bulletin boards:
without branches or roots,
or even a sky to hold on to.
-Judith Harris



One sunny, warm fall day we took a walking field trip in second grade. We were studying Neighborhoods in social studies and Mrs. Meyer led my class exploring the blocks close to the Sunnyside School in Kellogg, Idaho. The leaves had turned yellow, orange, and red and crunched underfoot as our single file line followed our teacher down the block. Our young minds learned that day about house numbers. She patiently explained how the numbers on the block work with even and odd numbers. For a long time after that I always studied the street numbers when we drove down a block uptown, in Spokane, or Orofino. It always worked that way. It was a pattern that always made sense to me . When I helped my brother deliver papers one summer on those blocks north of Sunnyside school I once again checked that pattern of numbers. I did the same when I sold Camp Fire mints in those same neighborhoods a few years later.

Mrs. Meyer also tied science in on that walking field trip as we studied the turning leaves on the trees and were given permission to pick up the leaves on the sidewalk. I studied those leaves with curiosity, noting the veins of color, the unique shapes and various sizes. Breathing in the crisp air and feeling the warm autumn sun on my face is a memory I go back and revisit. Could life have been simpler than on that day in September on the blocks surrounding Sunnyside School? Could there have been more joy than picking up leaves and carrying them with care back to the second grade classroom?

Art was also connected with this project. We arranged our leaves between sheets of wax paper and displayed them proudly on the windows looking out to the playground. Each afternoon the next week the sun would stream through those windows causing the yellows, oranges, and reds to glow like crown jewels. She also taught us to paint those colors. With large pieces of butcher paper, a fat paint brush each and paint bins of yellow, brown, red, and orange each second grader created a tree of their own that was displayed on the tile-like glass above the windows.

Knowing Mrs. Meyer I am sure we learned a poem about autumn leaves or she read us a story to tie in all up nicely. Fall is now my favorite season of the year. That love for the season may have started that day I learned about house numbers, experienced pure joy while collecting leaves, and felt that warm, afternoon autumn sun on my face.
autumn colors on a hill close to my childhood home

9/5/09

Shelby's Day to Shine

Today while camping I had some fun with my camera. Shelby was the one that posed up a storm today. She is a very photogenic and always looks like she is either concentrating on something very important or having the time of her life. I love following her around to catch photo images. Check out Shelby's photo shoot!

9/4/09

The Dwindled Creeks of Summer

We are off to enjoy peace and quiet in our favorite camping spot. The picture above was taken there last year. As always, I find a feeling of familiarity when I read Mary Oliver's words.

Creeks

The dwindled creeks of summer,
Unremarkable except,
Down pasture,
through woodlot,
They are so many
And keep such a pure sound
In each roiling thread,
Trickle past the knees of trees,
Dropped leaves, salamanders
Each one scrubbing and cooling
The pebbles of its bed.
My back to hickory, I sit
Hours in the damp wood, listening.
It never ebbs.
Its music is the shelf for other sounds:
Birds, wind in the leaves, some tumbled stones.
After awhile
I forget things, as I have forgotten time.
Death, love, ambition — the things that drive
Like pumps in the big rivers.
My heart
Is quieted, at rest. I scarcely feel it.
Little rivers, running everywhere,
Have blunted the knife. Cool, cool,
They wash above the bones.
-Mary Oliver

9/3/09

A Glorious Morning with Morning Glories

Both of us grabbed our cameras right after sunrise to catch the glorious sunshine and the morning glories in full bloom. Here was mine looking toward the east.JEJ captured the garden path from the doorway.Another one of a vivid morning glory.
This morning glory appears to be part of the rosebush. Another image by JEJ.The rich texture of the leaves was caught in this image.