tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9356414.post111894220936072245..comments2024-03-09T03:15:55.350-05:00Comments on jazzoLOG: An Event In The Forestjazzologhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16647170784964378640noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9356414.post-1119101632712220312005-06-18T09:33:00.000-04:002005-06-18T09:33:00.000-04:00Chill in the air this morning. Only about 50 degr...Chill in the air this morning. Only about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. The crickets of the field are rubbing the high sustained tone of early autumn, rather than the languorous lollygag chirps of summer. I wonder if this will mean a hopping, nibbling population explosion in the garden. Oh well, just so one overwinters in the toasty warmth of our fireplace.<BR/><BR/>It will be cool all day, struggling even to reach 70. It's perfect for Nordic me. I've spent the days since Tuesday clearing what branches I easily can from the pathways. I'm not much of a chainsaw guy and I'll wait for my son to drop by to get ours out. There's a lot of firewood now. <BR/><BR/>But most compelling is to stand out on the deck and just meditate upon the huge space of sky that maple occupied. Clearly it was the dominant tree in this space...along with its Siamese twin with which it shared the root stock and that still stands. Maybe it was older than 60 years. We'll count the rings.<BR/><BR/>The trees surrounding, mostly oaks, seem to be mourning. Their branches, though now free to do so, are not reaching, grasping up to the sun. They remain down, as if in submission to the elder tree, now fallen and laying there. A summer tanager may have lost his nest and young in that tree. He still sings in the evening, but there is a melancholy sound. Am I imagining it? Who cares? I've decided I'm at the age when it is important to greet each butterfly. I say hello out loud. But I am in awe-filled silence about the tree. He chose not to crush our house but fall the other way.jazzologhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16647170784964378640noreply@blogger.com