Posted tagged ‘pine trees’

“There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.”

October 26, 2012

I woke to a lovely day, warm and sunny. The birds were in full voice, and they drew me to the deck. I watched Gracie sniff the driveway already covered in yellow leaves and pine needles. On the outside branches of the oak tree the leaves have browned. Most will soon fall but some will hang on through the winter fluttering in the cold wind. It is the oak tree I can see best through the window in my den. It is a barometer of the changing seasons.

Today is dump day, Gracie’s favorite day. I haven’t told her yet, but she’ll know soon enough. Right now she is sleeping beside me on the couch and snoring. Life is good for Gracie

Sandy is the headline on the TV news and in the papers, but we are in a wait and see pattern as to how destructive the storm will be here though it has already been dubbed Frankenstorm and described as ghoulish. Utility crews have been out cutting branches and making sure lines are cleared anticipating wind and trying to prevent power outages. I doubt they’ll be too successful. Power outages are common here even without the wind. I often hear the loud bang of a transformer just before the lights go out. I have an empty larder so I’ll hit the supermarket today before the crowd arrives to buy all the water and the batteries. The water part still amazes me. I get that people with well water will lose their pumps but most of us have town water which will flow regardless of electricity. My list has the everyday items, the boring ones, but I’m also including crackers, a variety of cheeses, dips and chips. If I have to sit and read by the light of the lantern, I want my taste buds to be happy.

“A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache.”

March 8, 2012

The wind is so strong Gracie and I heard a crash and rushed to find the source. My umbrella had been blown down, and it banged as it hit the deck rail. Come to find out there is a wind advisory, and the winds could be as strong as 55 MPH. I decided my umbrella is probably safest where it is.

Already it is 56° which is almost tropical for this time of year. The sun is bright and the sky perfectly blue. If there were no wind, it would be a lovely deck day, but the wind is so strong the tops of the pine trees are swaying left and right. The bird feeders are swaying like carnival rides, but the birds act as if nothing is happening. The gold finches are back, and the males’ chests are brighter. Yesterday I had a house finch and today a flicker. 

I keep stopping to look out the window when I hear the wind. The wild, swooshing sound makes me feel a bit like Dorothy arriving at the house just before the tornado hit. I won’t be surprised to find my yard littered with pine branches. The pine are delicate trees.

I remember walking to or from school when it was windy. We’d face the wind, raise our arms to our sides and let the wind take us. It would go up our sleeves and make our jackets billow. I always felt as if I were flying. We’d laugh the whole time.

When I was young, the weather was rarely a topic of conversation. Snow was all we cared about as it carried the prospect of a snow day. Rain was disappointing as we couldn’t go out and play unless it was a light summer rain. After the rain, though, was always the most fun. Puddles meant slamming your foot in the water and splashing yourself and anyone near you. The wetter we got, the more fun we had. Our feet would slosh in our sneakers and bubbles would come up by our toes. We never cared. Sneakers always dried.

Adulthood has its privileges but much is lost. Puddles are to be avoided. Wet shoes and mud oozing between your toes stop being fun. I never walk bare-footed any more. Sandals are about as close as I get. I’m thinking it’s time again to feel the softness of the grass and the warmth of a puddle left by the summer rain.

“The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.”

January 21, 2012

“In the lane, snow is glistening,” describes the view outside my window. The snowfall is heavy, and there must be a few of inches or more already on the ground. The weather report won’t pin down the total amount but throws around words like considerable and steady all day. I was going to go to the store but changed my mind. I’ll just stay inside. The postman’s truck has already been by, and I watched his rear wheels spin a bit before he moved on to the next mailbox. I keep looking out the window and have to admit the snow is really pretty right now.

This is our first snow storm and it has been long in coming. Much as I’d like to complain, I can’t. The winter has been kind to us so I’ll hold my complaints until the next storm then I’ll let loose and do lots of muttering.

Gracie went out a few minutes ago but not into the yard. I hope the snow caused the quick trip and she didn’t decide to do her business on the deck. I tried to watch but she was in a blind spot, and I’m not about to go out and check. The stairs are steep on both sides of the deck so maybe she was a bit afraid of sliding. When Skip comes to shovel and plow, I always have him do the stairs. I also use pet friendly de-icer on the stairs so they’ll dry faster.

Even the oak trees look lovely with their branches covered in snow. The world is quiet. No one ventures onto the roads. It’s too early for the sounds of snow blowers and shovels. I saw only one bird at the feeder, a flicker, so I’m guessing my regular visitors must be huddled somewhere away from the storm. The spawns of Satan are missing. Their nests are high up in the pine trees where I figure they’re lying together to keep warm and watching the snow much the same as I’m doing.

I’ll stay cozy and warm and watch from the window. This is really winter, and I’m not a willing participant.

“Christmas isn’t a season. It’s a feeling.”

December 6, 2011

The sky is white cloudy. The breeze is warm and it’s 58°. The weatherman has warned us that cold weather, winter weather, is coming later in the week. It’s time for the woolies to come out of the drawer.

Some of the leaves still hang precariously from the ends of the oak tree branches near the deck. The leaves are brown and curled and blow back and forth in the breeze. They don’t know their time is long over. Huge scrub pine trees tower over the backyard. They are old and some are delicate. Every winter more branches fall. One tree is dead and another has a broken branch hanging across two branches which keep it from falling in the yard. Come spring both will be gone after the clean-up.

Every night even more houses are bright with outside lights. Never have I seen as many this early in the season. I think the warm weather was the incentive. It is far easier putting up lights when your fingers don’t get stiff from the cold.

All my friends and family buy real trees at Christmas. My sister, when her kids were little, had two: one in the living room and one in the family room. They went to a cut down your own tree farm each year, and one of my nephews claims every tree they brought home back then looked like a Charlie Brown tree. This year my sister has only one tree, and it’s in the family room so she can see it every night while she watches television. My other sister is putting hers up tonight. I can see my friends’ tree all lit up through the window when I go by their house. This time of year I always use their end of the street so I can see the tree.

I sit in the living room and read all afternoon with the tree lit. I stop reading often just to look at the tree and all the ornaments. Some are from my childhood, others I made for my mother and they came back to me when she passed away, many are from my trips while others are gifts from my friends and their trips, a couple are from Africa and some, like the ragged angel and the clown, are just ugly or weird, and I love them for that. I think my tree is just beautiful, but I suspect we all think our trees are beautiful.