Blood Moon

Blog; Hideaway Pond–11-16-21
hideawaypond.com

11-16-21

Dark. Dark and gloomy. Winter has blown in to begin her rein in a wet, angry mood. Autumn has left the scene, trailing the torn remnants of her once beautiful array. A few leaves stubbornly maintain their grip. Others skitter away in the wind. The dead detritus of a Summer past. Only a thick carpet of golden leaves betrays her passage.

11-18-21

Well, as they say in Texas, “If you don’t like the weather, wait a while and it will change.” Winter has changed her mood. She brought bright cloudless blue skies with her today. Skies so blue they almost hurt the eyes.

The trees have gone to sleep. Trees do sleep, you know. A dormant salute to Jack Frost’s frigid impending arrival. The ledge and Overlook Mt. are now clearly in view. Another of Winter’s perks.

Our lawn guy will soon be here with his big mower. The yard will get its final trim of the year. The grass carp will hold their last grassy bacchanal as the mower kicks the final remains of the yard into the pond. The bass have already sunk to the deepest darkest areas of the pond. Already into their long annual winter torpor.
What a great life.

Other critters–burrowers, tree dwellers, avians, and those who brave Jack Frost’s chilly bite in crevices and caves–have already settled into their winter homes. Nourishment requirements and metabolism will drop to a minimum. Some heartbeats will slow to as little as 8 bpm. New life will arrive in darkness.

Squirrels have long ago gathered and hidden their last acorn of the season. They’ll spend hours next Spring seeking them. Free entertainment for human critters. Chuck, our cleverly eponymned groundhog, has again moved under our porch. Whether with or without last winter’s paramour is yet unknown. Stay tuned.

Deer have been plentiful and active. The rutting season is at its peak. We found a small buck in quiet repose in the front yard as we returned home from errands today. Perhaps he was resting from a little overzealous rutting. Unfortunately, he escaped into the woods before I could ask.

We suddenly seem to be the last stop on the feathered freeway south. Two pairs of Canada geese and two pairs of mallards have dropped by during the last week. All noisily bathed with great gusto, filling the air with flying water. As is their wont, they left no tips or notes of thanks.

Five intrepid turkeys have loitered around the house lately. Perhaps in anticipation of fallout from our forthcoming bird feeders. Or awareness that inflation has upped the price of a fully dressed supermarket turkey. And they realize that they‘ve suddenly become price competitive. I’ve captured some of their cousins below. In full voice.

Tonight is a special night in the skies over the Catskills. A full moon in total eclipse will sail overhead. A blood moon. So called by the Algonquins because of its red color. The works of Nature’s sunray magic. The red light of that moon will bathe the Catskills tonight. And slowly dim before sunrise. Taps.