Thursday 22 Sept 2005
2:42 p.m.

Dead cow sizzling in cast iron for lasagne.

I put in one hour’s work before going out into the sunshine at noon.

Today’s first stroll presented a sky full of migrating geese, whose squeaky door-hinge, boy-changing-to-man breaking-voiced honks filled the southern air for a good 10 minutes as they crossed my line of vision. I had just climbed through the barbwire at the north end of the pasture when I heard them in the distance, and I turned and lifted up the binoculars hanging from around my neck. They were too far away to get a photo, but the sound and its duration were enough.

When I couldn’t hear them any longer, I crossed the summerfallow field north of the pasture. There were tracks out there that I didn’t recognize. They had to have been made by a heavy animal like a cow, but there haven’t been any cattle out over there recently that I’m aware of. That’s probably what it is; if not, there’s some big animal loose out there. There has been a lot of rain in the past while so little sloughs have formed in the fields and here you can see where the animals sauntered over for a drink.

By the time I got to the road, lined on both sides by poplar trees bedecked in their best autumn leaves, I had exhausted the camera battery and couldn't get a picture of them, dazzling in their fall hues of green, red, orange and yellow.

A little further on, a huge grey heron lifted off from the creek and flew, never very high over the ground, to just beyond my sight.

Sigh. Is it lovely here, or is it lovely? People who think there is nothing to see in this province ... haven't seen this, or heard it, or smelled it. Oh, the sweet fall scent of — of what? I don't know what it is, but it is intoxicating —

And now, back to work.