Treetops rock and sway in the wind—a restive mountainside. A few snowflakes fly this way and that.
wind
Mostly overcast and quiet, apart from the wind. A squirrel with an acorn in her mouth pauses for a split second at the end of a branch, then leaps.
As cold as yesterday but with orange-bellied clouds and a wind. A tulip tree seed helicopters into the yard and rises up over the house.
January weather, blustery and cold—and just as in January, two gray squirrels play amorous hide-and-seek on the trunk of the big tulip poplar.
-3C/27F with a wind. A hunter’s pickup rumbles past. A flock of small birds flies in a tight, silent cluster over the treetops.
Dawn. Clouds glow with the lights from town. The great bulk of the lilac against the dark woods, trembling in the wind.
A cold and windy dawn. The crescent moon drowns in a sorcery of pink.
One degree above freezing at sunrise. A breeze reshuffles the walnut leaves on the porch. I find small patches of frost up by the barn.
Breezy, cold and clear. Perfect weather for my favorite autumn sport, watching leaves fall: those that tumble, those that plummet, those that twirl.
Overcast, windy and cold at dawn. Soft thuds as the black walnut tree releases its ordnance onto the road.
Bleary sun. Tree leaves are all astir, but not by much. Those birds who still sing make it sound perfunctory.
Cool at sunrise with a restless breeze. The big tulip tree at the woods’ edge drops a few more drought-yellowed leaves.
Windy and cool. The pale undersides of leaves turning in unison like shoals of fish. A robin and a tanager trading off.
Wind has blown all the humidity out to sea. The forest is astir with its comings and goings, until I can barely remain seated.