Notes from Maine - 2024/10/06
There’s some dispute whether we’re going to get a “real” autumn this year. Maybe the colorful leaves aren’t quite as colorful as they could be. Maybe they’re falling before they go through the full stunning spectrum of red and orange. According to the Forest Service, the autumn colors depend on the “weather conditions that occur before and during the time the chlorophyll in the leaves is dwindling.” It’s all about temperature and moisture. For peak foliage, you want dry conditions. We’ve had very little rain, so that should be good. You also need warm, sunny days and crisp nights. Our days have been in the 60s and 70s (15~20° C), and in the 40s at night (around 5° C), but I guess those conditions aren’t quite right? Some years the colors are so vivid that they nearly sting your eyes. The reds dance against the greens. This year the leaves in my yard are mostly yellow and orange. It’s pretty, but a little dull.
A little north of here (where our camp is), the leaves haven’t really started to change yet. It’s still mostly green. Across the stream there’s a marshy area—that will swing first. The tall grass is dotted with trees that we always called “swamp maple,” although I’m not sure that’s accurate. One day they will burst out into red.
Up the road from the camp, when my grandparents were alive, they had a farm that was once known as “The Elms.” Back then, you could address a letter to The Elms, Belgrade Maine, and it would get to them. Those giant trees were all toppled by Dutch Elm disease and then (like they were held up by the memory) the letters, “THE ELMS,” began to fall off the front of the barn. When my grandparents bought that house, much of the surrounding land was pasture. Grandpa had a lot of it planted with pines that were thinned and harvested when I lived there. The endeavor was worth a decent tax break, and it also brought it revenue from the pulp.
He kept a small field behind the barn clear for years. It was a couple of acres. By the time we were kids, riding in circles on a minibike and eventually on “Killer” (an old motorcycle), the interior of the pasture was filled in with scrubby woods. It might take a few seasons to really clear a field and get hay to grow, but it only takes a single season of disuse to lose a pasture back to woods.
Eventually, I decided to try to keep horses at The Elms, and I hired Buster Hammond to clear the field for me. It looked really nice once it was an open pasture, but I never had horses there. For a variety of reasons, I moved forty miles (64km) south into the house I’m still living in. The Elms belongs to someone else now. They painted the barn the wrong color. It’s hard to look at. The house is the right shape and the wrong everything else. I don’t know if the pasture still exists out back. Maybe they let it grow back into woods again.
It would be fun to put a pasture behind this house, up on the hill. To make it usable, I would have to install a ton of fence. I have a person contracted to replace the fence around the front pasture, but I haven’t heard from them in a while. It remains to be seen if that work will ever get done. My expectations are low. I always try to be optimistic, but with low expectations. I want to be pleasantly surprised when things go right, and I don’t want to dwell on negativity, assuming that things will go wrong. That’s a difficult tightrope when I haven’t gotten a reply from my last friendly email. Maybe the fencing people are just so busy getting ready for my project that they haven’t had a chance to dash off a response? One can hope.
It’s going to be a busy week here. I have electricians coming to replace my panel on Tuesday. I have to get up early to draw enough water for the horses before the power gets shut off. On Thursday, the counter people are coming to measure for templates. I was surprised when they said they had an opening in their schedule. I presume it’s because someone passed away while waiting for their new counters. With the timeframes they quoted, they probably have a lot of multi-generational jobs. A young person, prime of life, decides to get new counters and then at some point their children or grandchildren get the call—it’s time! So, before Thursday I have to acquiesce to all the demands issued by the template maker. My sink, cooktop, and plumbing need to be onsite but with all temporary counters removed. All base cabinets must be level within 1/16 of an inch (1.5mm) over 10 feet (3m). Fingers and toes crossed. They make you pay a deposit in advance, and if your job site fails to meet any of the criteria, they pile your cash up on your lawn and make you watch as they burn it to ashes. They’re strict, but fair.
I’ll remain optimistic but with low expectations.
