September 7: More objects from the dirt road

A bit leftover from the farm: I picked up a stone during my walk Monday morning. It's one of the common flints around here: grey with black threads running through it, usually chipped in interesting ways. This one had two beautifully curved depressions, just right for a thumb to feel. The ridge between the depressions was worn by the road.



The stone had been in the sun, and it was very warm. I love the way stone absorbs heat. It's slow and even, and when it's warmed by the sun it usually won't hurt you the way metal or even glass will. The smoothness of this stone was lovely as well. Not as slick as glass or sticky as polished metal. Just dense, hard, and perfectly smooth.

I also found a muscadine, the first ripe one of the season. These wild grapes have thick, purple or purple and green skins and the flesh inside is clear, with three or four seeds. They have a musky flavor and smell that's very distinctive. The smell is AUTUMN to me.



I'd like to cultivate muscadines someday. I'm afraid they would lose some of that special flavor if they lost their wildness, but it would still be nice to try.

September 8: Odd year

It really has been an odd year here. The winter of 2009-10 was one of the wettest in memory, and this summer was the second hottest in recorded history. It's had noticeable effects. Some insect infestations are worse, some less bad than usual in the summer. And then there are my dad's raspberry bushes. They produced a few berries in early summer, as they are meant to. But then in mid August, they started producing another crop. Now, in September, we are still eating a few berries.

I remember this happening when I lived in Central Texas. The growing season started quite early, and by mid summer the plants were exhausted and stressed by the heat. If I kept watering them adequately, they would stay alive, but only just, and go dormant. Then when the days got shorter (even if it wasn't much cooler) they would revive and sometimes produce another crop of tomatoes or peppers or whatever.

So maybe it's not unheard of, but it's very unusual here.

Another odd thing: while driving near home one evening last week, my dad saw a whitetail doe and two fawns come out of the woods and trot across a clearing. "Half-grown fawns?" I asked him. No, he said, they still had their spots. I'm sure it's not unheard of, but it seems quite late for such young fawns.