Foggy Day.

THANKSGIVING-07 VERMONT: We got about three inches of snow on the 20th. With snow cover, I burnt the brush pile in the pasture quite successfully—nothing left but about a quart of ashes. The next day I tried to repeat that triumph by burning the pile of prunings in the woods, but only got it down by half. Snow on the ground means animal tracks become visible. We have had a lot of deer activity in the pasture and even near the house. That’s probably why the dogs, mostly Sam, have been so restless after dark.

Today is foggy, warm, in the forties, drizzly and damp. The winds are calm. The snow is melting, and the ground is thawing leaving puddles in every low spot. The frozen pond is melting. It’s not a bright sunny day, but it’s not a bad day, just a different king of good day. In the country, one is more aware of the weather—hot or cold, windy or calm, west wind or east, rainy or snowy, or sunny, clear and dry, or foggy and dank. We get combinations from that list, and we get sequences. In some way, every day is, thankfully, unique.

A lot of the shrubs still have some leaves, gray or brown or even with some autumn color hanging on. It’s as though they were caught off guard by the fairly abrupt change from warm to wintry. I suppose they’ll figure it out. One month to go until the winter solstice.


Fog.

Fog.

Fog.