Saturday, October 27, 2012

Saturday in my world

Well it's Saturday in my world and in this particular case that means waking up at camp to a fog-bestrewn stream and bluejays, red squirrels, gray squirrels, crows, titmice, chickadees, nuthatches, and doves competing for the little bit of seed I spread around yesterday into several feeders we can easily see from our sunporch and even from bed if we crane our necks a little. The little refrigerator is humming cheerily and the gas fireplace is keeping back the soon-to-be-November chill that landed overnight with a thump. A heron hunts stealthily through the marshy part of the cove, stepping gingerly so as not to startle an unsuspecting frog or fish - whack! - speared one and took off flying, pterodactyl-like. A big storm looms, they say it might be as big or bigger than one in '38 that killed 800 people - George Carlin would be happy about that but wishing it were more - and could dump 2 feet of snow in parts of the northeast. Hopefully not this part, since we have yet to rake the autumn leaves at the house - 20% still hanging on limbs, why I don't know - or drain the pipes at camp to button her up for winter's onslaught. I don't relish the thought of crawling through the snow to open up the drains underneath - it's always a wet job and being wet outside in the cold is not my idea of fun times.

What's that have to do with Jack Kerouac, you ask? Nothing much, except I was in the mood to write (writers write, right?) and this is what occurred when I started tapping the keyboard. Plus it's October (still) - Jack's favorite month and one he mentions frequently in his novels and poems. Four more days until November, and voting (thank heavens this election cycle will be over), and Crystal's birthday (last one of a kind), and Thanksgiving, and snow (probably), and the smell of woodsmoke daily, and the entry into a pulled-in kind of living where being inside is punctuated with mandatory forays into the bleak whiteness to clear the driveway and make pathways to various points - fuel oil filler tube, propane tank, woodshed, outbuildings, deck, sump pump hose - oh, and especially to the bird feeder because so many little creatures depend on me for daily sustenance (damn squirrels but as Dad would say, "They have to eat, too.").

I don't know about you, but things could be lot worse and it's good to remember that on a Saturday morning in a warm room with a view of the water and no pressing matters beyond what costume to wear for Halloweening in Hallowell tonight.


No comments: