Author: theMan

  • Early Spring

    Early spring foggy morning

    This early spring morning started out foggy. According to the Japanese calendar, Friday, February 4th, was the first day of spring, 立春 – Risshun. It’s a day to chase the demons out of the house and invite good fortune in. I could do that more than once a year. Some weeks every day.

    It’s actually more than just a day. It usually starts on February 4 and ends on February 18. It is one of the 24 solar terms in the year. With each day longer than the one before it, each day seems more spring like than the one before.

    Dry weather is in the forecast. A week of mostly dry weather should help dry out the garden enough to start getting it ready for planting.

    Early spring foggy morning

    The hens are laying more eggs, a sure sign of spring. I may even have one that has gone broody. She was all fluffed up and warm underneath. I’ll know for sure in a few days. It’s a bit early, but after the harsh winter maybe they’re ready to get a head start on raising a family.

    From a the way this early spring morning started so foggy, I wasn’t expecting this light show at sunset. Iridescent clouds spread out in long pearly strands against the darkening sky. What sort of morning do clouds like this portend?

  • Blue and White

    Blue and white, the skies and clouds put on a remarkable display.

    I looked up when I opened the gate yesterday and saw this brilliant display of blue and white in the sky. The sun lit up the clouds and painted the sky a cobalt blue. Every day is a good day, Yunmen Wenyan said over a thousand years ago. Some days, it’s hard to believe that. Really? “Every day is a good day but today,” is what you want to say. But when the sun, clouds, and sky put on a display like this, it’s easy to believe.

    Exploding sunlit clouds over the Skagit Valley.

    On the drive over to Anacortes, the views didn’t stop. A cloud exploded over the Skagit Valley, between the foothills of the Cascades. Can a sky be more blue? Can clouds be more beautiful?

    Blue and white - Exploding sunlit clouds over the Skagit Valley.
    Blue and white. Exploding sunlit clouds over the Skagit Valley.

    If one were to make a reference book of the colors blue and white, a cobalt blue sky and sunlit clouds like this is something one would certainly include. “This, everybody, is blue,” you’d say, pointing to the clouds. And where the sun lit up the clouds the most, you’d shout, “This is white, everybody!”

    On days like this, the sky seems infinite. But it’s not. A short distance above, the atmosphere stops. And the blue turns inky black. The warmth of a spring day turns cold, the likes of which we can’t experience on earth. The side of your body facing the sun burns to a crisp. And the side facing away instantly freezes and shatters.

    A five mile walk takes very little time. A five mile drive goes by quickly. But just five miles above us, we can’t breathe. Many go ten miles or more just to work. But ten miles above, nothing lives. The infinite cobalt blue skies we see on a sunny day are but paper thin. Life on earth is extremely fragile. So if we want our children, grand children, great grand children to enjoy these blue and white skies, we can’t take this fragile earth for granted.

  • Witch Hazel

    Witch Hazel

    Witch hazel in bloom

    The witch hazel is blooming. One of the first flowers of the season to spread its petals. Its spicy fragrance takes me to distant spice bazaars. So what pollinates these delicate flowers at the end of winter? The bees and wasps are still fast asleep. Whatever it is, it is an insect that braves the cold. Though with such an enticing fragrance, if I was a bug, I’d stir out of my winter hibernation to fly into the petals. It is a fragrance worth dying for.

    Spring - Frost bitten sweet daphne

    The sweet daphne didn’t fare as well as the witch-hazel. Much of the plant is frost bitten. However it is far from dead. Underneath the sad, leaves, shoots are sprouting. An early bloomer, come mid to late February, its heady scent will fill the air.

    Spring - sweet daphne buds
    Bamboo knocked over by heavy snow

    The heavy snow this winter was too much for the bamboo too. Many lay flat on the ground. Some stems snapped. I won’t need to cut any bamboo for poles this year. I’ll get plenty of bamboo poles just cleaning up all the fallen ones.

    Spring hens by the pond

    The chickens are ready for spring. The more bugs the better. Pickings are slim this time of year. But once it warms up, the ground will be swarming with scurrying things to nab.

  • Sunlight at Dawn

    sunlight at dawn

    There was sunlight at dawn today instead of thick fog. For a change, the sun’s rays pierced through the thick morning fog this morning. And in no time the clouds went from gray to blue. On a morning like this, it’s easy to imagine spring just around the corner.

    Sparkling frosted grass at dawn

    The sun’s rays at dawn made the frosty grass sparkle.

    Cherry blossom buds in late January

    The cherry blossom buds are still tiny and hard. But all the sunlight on a day like today will make them grow.

    Alder trees at dawn on a bue sky day

    The alder trees are already getting their reddish hue from their swelling buds. A few more weeks and they will be in bloom, though their plain, hanging flowers won’t attract throngs of flower viewer like the cherry trees. And their pollen dust will make many people’s eyes water and noses twitch and sneeze.

    jet contrail at dawn

    The skies which stayed blue all day during the height of the pandemic are a thing of the past. A jet flying in from Asia this morning left it’s mark on the clear blue sky. And an hour later, the contrail had spread across much of the sky.

    At dawn a diffuse jet contrail

    Hopefully these jet contrails will be a thing of the past some day. Electric jets will take to the skies and future generations will never know blue skies that turn cloudy from all the jets flying overhead.

    Swans on pasture

    The swans sure love the bright sunlight. Everywhere I looked on my drive to deliver eggs and tofu, there were swans. I stopped and counted 136 swans in this field. In nearby fields, flocks of swans just as large basked in the morning sunshine.

    Closeup of swans in pasture.
  • After the Rains

    After the rain the chickens are out by the pond

    After the rains, the chickens are out scratching through the dry ferns by the pond. More than a month after the winter solstice, the sun is much stronger. Though not strong enough to burn away the fog bank that floats above us day after day.

    After the rains - chicken in camouflage

    After the rains, it’s easy to miss the chickens when they are out in the woods. They blend in well. It’s the soft, rustling sound they make as they scratch through the dried leaves that tells you where they are.

    But they are wary. So a predator has to be very, very quiet to get one. Luckily for me, it’s been a while since I’ve lost one. What am I saying? Luckily for me? No, luckily for the chickens. We humans have a tendency to make everything about us.

    After the rains, fallen trees and branches litter the forest flor

    After the rains, the winds, the heavy snows, fallen trees and branches litter the forest floor. The chickens came through the winter unscathed. The trees not. Many toppled over. Others lost limbs and branches. They block paths. Cover bridges. The effects of this winter will linger long into spring and summer. But that’s nature. Chaos. Bedlam. Death and renewal.

    From a distance, wild areas look so calm and peaceful. Sit at a viewpoint and look out over the valley, mountains, sea, and islands. It’s all so harmonious and beautiful. But look closely and nature is a mess. With no one to clean it all up!

    The closer you look, the more ghastly nature becomes. Under a microscope, each drop of water is a constant war zone. Bacteria gobbling up each other. Nematodes cannibalizing each other. Micro organisms armed to the teeth racing to eat before they are eaten. It’s the stuff of nightmares.

    Still, after the rains, even though it’s foggy, it’s nice to dry out.