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Pie Famine: Day Five
Nov. 5th, 2014 04:54 pmThis morning when the air still held some of night's chill I looked out my window and saw the yellow leaves falling. Most of the leaves on the oaks beyond my back fence are yellow now, though my oak still has more green than gold. There were always three or four leaves in the air, slowly descending, and a slight breeze would increase them to a dozen or so. They were bright, backlit as they were by the morning sun.
Later, when the sun was high, the air was full of the bobbing, drifting white dots that will bring next spring's dandelion crop. The day turned surprisingly warm, and I opened all my windows to let the freshness fill the house. The thin cirrus clouds that decorated the sky all afternoon are now thickening, and the sun has gone behind the pine trees to the west, so the windows will have to be closed. It's unlikely that tomorrow will be warm enough to have them open again, though more warmth could arrive for the weekend.
Pleasant though the weather is, it is probably evaporating the thin layer of snow the recent storm left on the Sierras from Lake Tahoe to the Tehachapi Mountains— the first significant snowfall of the autumn. It won't last long in this warmth. There could be rain again late next week, and maybe some more snow, but we are already falling behind the historic totals for the season. It does not bode well for next year's water supply, though I'll probably have a lower gas bill this November than I had last year. Maybe I can save the money to buy bottled water next summer— though more likely I'll have to spend it on fruits and vegetables, which are sure to become even more costly if irrigation is further curtailed.
Today I found another half dozen walnuts that had shed their husks before falling. That was most likely due to the chillier night. More than half the nuts have fallen now, and as milder nights are due many of those remaining on the tree will fail to shed before falling. It is going to be an anemic crop. Thee raccoons and squirrels are undoubtedly delighted, but I don't expect them to offer anything in return for the largess, I've heard that raccoon is supposed to be pretty tasty, though, if you know how to cook it properly. I won't benefit, but some of the hunt-prone neighbors might.
But no raccoon tonight. I haven't decided on what to have for dinner yet, but it won't be anything that was walking about yesterday. Probably something that was growing on a vine last year and has spent most of the time since in a can. Beans, in short. Not very interesting, but easy to fix. Too bad there's still no pie to follow them.
Later, when the sun was high, the air was full of the bobbing, drifting white dots that will bring next spring's dandelion crop. The day turned surprisingly warm, and I opened all my windows to let the freshness fill the house. The thin cirrus clouds that decorated the sky all afternoon are now thickening, and the sun has gone behind the pine trees to the west, so the windows will have to be closed. It's unlikely that tomorrow will be warm enough to have them open again, though more warmth could arrive for the weekend.
Pleasant though the weather is, it is probably evaporating the thin layer of snow the recent storm left on the Sierras from Lake Tahoe to the Tehachapi Mountains— the first significant snowfall of the autumn. It won't last long in this warmth. There could be rain again late next week, and maybe some more snow, but we are already falling behind the historic totals for the season. It does not bode well for next year's water supply, though I'll probably have a lower gas bill this November than I had last year. Maybe I can save the money to buy bottled water next summer— though more likely I'll have to spend it on fruits and vegetables, which are sure to become even more costly if irrigation is further curtailed.
Today I found another half dozen walnuts that had shed their husks before falling. That was most likely due to the chillier night. More than half the nuts have fallen now, and as milder nights are due many of those remaining on the tree will fail to shed before falling. It is going to be an anemic crop. Thee raccoons and squirrels are undoubtedly delighted, but I don't expect them to offer anything in return for the largess, I've heard that raccoon is supposed to be pretty tasty, though, if you know how to cook it properly. I won't benefit, but some of the hunt-prone neighbors might.
But no raccoon tonight. I haven't decided on what to have for dinner yet, but it won't be anything that was walking about yesterday. Probably something that was growing on a vine last year and has spent most of the time since in a can. Beans, in short. Not very interesting, but easy to fix. Too bad there's still no pie to follow them.
