On Maine Public Radio, I heard that this weekend is peak color for foliage in central Maine. It seems that adults await this weekend as eagerly as children await Christmas. And why not? The countryside is awash in color, and beauty comes from every angle.
All a person can do is give thanks to nature for this generous gift.
When our dog, Liam, was young, Clif and I would take him for several walks during the day, and all told we would cover about seven miles. Even then, that wasn’t really enough exercise for our lively Sheltie. Fortunately, we have a half-acre yard fenced in, and he could run like crazy around the perimeter, making a track that a friend dubbed “the Liam 500.” Oh, Liam was an energetic dog. And he stayed energetic for many, many years, wowing friends with his wild racing in the backyard.
Blindness, however, has slowed down this once active dog who loved to be outside from dawn to dusk. Nowadays, Liam only wants to stay out long enough to do his business. As for racing around the backyard—those days are over, and the Liam 500 is no more, completely filled with grass.
We still take Liam for walks several times a day, but we are lucky if we go for a mile, total. Nonetheless, the walks are enjoyable. Liam sniffs, I look, and even on a short stretch there is always something to see on our country road.
Now that it is fall, the air has a nutty smell as the leaves and the acorns fall. Crickets jump by the side of the road, and chipmunks scurry to fill their pantries. Even on a gray day, the woods are bright with yellow ferns, and in mid-October in central Maine, the leaves are a blaze of orange and red.
On our walks, I spot those little stars of autumn twinkling in the tall grass.
In the woods, I notice a fallen log with lichen.
I admire the variegated mat of leaves on the side of the road.
Then it’s back to our very own yard.
These short walks are a good reminder that no matter how close you are to home, there is something to see, something to notice.
As we Mainers might put it, this fall has been wicked weird. Last Friday, the town’s thermometer read 80 degrees, and in the evening Clif and I had drinks and supper on the patio. (We thought those days were long gone.) In short, this fall has been warm, and as with anything, there are pluses and minuses. On the plus side…we have had to use very little heat, and in a state like Maine, where it is cold for at least eight months of the year, this is a real blessing. The cost of heating is a real issue for many Mainers. On the other hand, this unnaturally warm weather is yet another reminder of climate change, and while northern New England might enjoy the milder weather, it’s not so great for the rest of the world.
However, this October Monday is seasonably cool and very windy. A good day for hanging fleeces on the line. The sky is bright blue, and the trees are ablaze with color. Maine is glorious in October, and if there is a finer place to be, then I don’t know where it is.
The gardens have their own beauty in autumn. The flowers are gone, and I miss them. However, the foliage has turned red and yellow and the seed pods add visual interest. This year, as Jason from the blog Garden in a City has suggested, I’m not going to cut back the perennials until spring. I’ve never done this before, and I have decided to give it a try. Not only will the uncut garden provide a place for beneficial insects to winter over, but it will also decrease the amount of work I must do this fall.
This, of course, brings me to my upcoming YA novel, Maya and the Book of Everything. I have been working like a crazy person getting the manuscript ready for the November publication. Clif and I have learned a lot with this first book, and for the second book in the series, Library Lost, we will have a much different time line.
But the major editing is done for Maya and the Book of Everything, and yesterday, a rainy fall day, I felt like a wet noodle. I spent most of the day on the couch, where I napped and read the current issue of The New Yorker. (I believe George Bernard Shaw called it a boiled sweet kind of day, where all you feel like doing is sitting in a corner and sucking on boiled sweets. ) I have found that an occasional day of rest is a good thing, necessary even, to recharge the batteries.
Today, I do indeed feel refreshed, ready to tackle the next set of chores for Maya.
Onward and upward.
Notes From the Hinterland 