Seasons endings and beginnings

Up in northern Maine it's the first of two weeks of the moose hunt. I was just down by the water enjoying the deep silence and heard eight shots - a couple of miles away. I'm hoping the lovely cow moose we've been admiring all summer is not the recipient. Fortunately tomorrow it will be raining, and that's the end of the first week. No hunting in Maine on Sunday.

Sunday is the last day of fishing season on most Maine inland waters. Today while walking I saw an up-lake neighbor out on his bass boat fly casting along the shore of a rocky cove, one last time. Most folks have their boats out of the water, save him and us.

On Monday, birding season starts so we'll be hearing the shots of folks going for ducks and geese and partridge.

For Maine's outdoors enthusiasts, the seasons change with the calendar. But the denizens of the forest and water have their own timetables. Right now a solitary loon is calling outside our cabin. He or she is cruising the 'stream', perhaps calling to others to join up for migration. There are still several weeks until freeze-up so he or she has lots of time to find a group to move off shore or down south.  

Last Hummingbirds

The activity at our six hummingbird feeders has dropped off to a few straggling visitors. Yesterday I heard them buzzing around, but didn't actually see any at the feeders, though the liquid levels in the most popular feeders are down a little this morning. The sun's declination is lower each day now. Maybe that's how they know to go south.

The seasons march on. The birch leaves are yellowing and falling. We had an energetic thunderstorm yesterday. A few hours later, the brief revisit of warm humid weather was swept out with chilly (but refreshing) northerly winds.

During the summery stretch a good friend visited. We got in some fantastic fishing and a hike up a granite ledge trail where we saw no one else for hours. Saw two dozen geese land in the Stream, two beautiful honking V's come up the lake and land a way beyond us, welcomed by the others already waiting there.

Perfect ending to the visit with a gourmet popover breakfast up-lake, hosted by veteran lake campers and season followers. We said our goodbyes until next year.

Dark Days at the Cabin

This summer has been very sunny overall. Recently we've had weeks of gorgeous sunny weather. One cabin friend says that this has been the best summer ever, weather wise.

Wouldn't you know that today, after a glorious sunny start, the clouds rolled in. We do need the rain, so I am not complaining.

I'm wondering how to keep the cabin from getting too dark in feel on a dark cloudy day. Our place is all wood - and it has a warm glow to it. However, on days like today and those later in the fall, the depth of the forest with its greens, greys and blacks reaches into the cabin somehow. Cutting down a hundred trees to let in the light is not the answer. What to do?

1. Turn on the lights. All of them. I do this but the warm wood seems to soak it up. Besides, it's a waste of electricity. I suppose if we had painted everything white we wouldn't have this problem. I shut most of the lights off.

2. Just use lots of the light in the area where you are at the moment. Doing that now.


3. Get busy and stop thinking about the light/dark issue. Bake something; work on writing; read.
Yes I know that is the right answer. So I will sign off and do just that.