Oct. 28-Nov. 3, 2019 Now constantly there is a Sound, quieter than rain, Of leaves falling. Under their loosening bright Gold, the sycamore limbs bleach whiter. -Wendell Berry The Sleeping Frog Moon was new on Oct. 27. Now that moon waxes throughout the week, entering its second quarter at 5:23 a.m. on Nov. 5. The moon reaches apogee (its position farthest from Earth) at 3:37 a.m. on Nov. 7. Rising near the middle of the day and setting in the night, it passes overhead in the afternoon and evening, promoting fish and game activity at that time, especially as the cold fronts of Nov. 2 and 6 approach. Weather trends Weather history suggests the cold waves of late fall usually cross the Mississippi River on or about Nov. 2, 6, 11, 16, 20, 24, and 28. Snow or rain often occurs prior to the passage of each major front. This week, highs are usually in the 50s or 60s, with the odds for 70s near 1 in 5. The chances of warmth in the 70s drop to just 5 percent on Nov. 4, and odds increase for cold throughout the week ahead. Highs of just in the 30s or 40s are relatively rare during the final days of October, but by the Nov. 5 they occur 25 percent of the time, and chances rise to over 40 percent by Nov. 10. The natural calendar Oct. 28: A few butterflies still hunt for flowers. Grasshoppers are still common. Small tan moths, like the first to emerge in March, play in the sun. Oct. 29: High pollen counts are over in most of the country until next spring. Average mold counts are typically low at this time too: usually fewer than 2,000 out of a possible 7,000 grains per cubic meter. Oct. 30: The last raspberries of the year redden in the low October sun. After the last weather system of the month comes across the country, milder but rainier weather typically follows for the first few days of November. Oct. 31: As the winter months approach, the percentage of available sunlight declines quickly throughout the nation, and more in the northern states than in southern areas. Nov. 1: Near midnight, the Pleiades move almost overhead, leading on the Hyades and the red eye of Taurus, Aldebaran. Orion towers in the southeast, followed by Sirius and Procyon. Castor and Pollux, the rulers of January, stand above Orion. August’s Vega is setting now. Cygnus, the swan of the Northern Cross and the gauge of late fall’s progress, is disappearing south. Nov. 2: Cattails begin to break apart as the final giant jimsonweed opens in the cornfields. Nov. 3: Daylight Saving Time ends this morning. Set your clocks back one hour. Field and garden Early and middle autumn are some of the best times of all for seeding bedding plants for spring flowers. Sow your seeds under lights near the new Sleeping Frog Moon (Oct. 27) and the new Silent Cricket Moon (Nov. 26). Holiday bulbs like paperwhites and amaryllises are more likely to flower near Christmas if planted at the end of October or the first days of November. Also seed winter greens, and plant winter grains under the dark moon. In addition, this is a fine time for dividing and transplanting your perennials and bulbs. Put a little fertilizer or compost in with everything, and then water generously through the fall. Prepare mulch for November protection of sensitive plants and shrubs. Wrap new trees with burlap to help them ward off winter winds. Complete fall field and garden tillage before the November rains. Grazing season draws to a close as the pasture growth slows in the cold. Testing of stored forage soon can pay dividends by helping you prepare balanced winter rations for your flock and herd. Almanac classic An Outhouse Horror Story By Jeff Crawford “The Muck” only lived up to its name when it rained a lot. We lived there one summer during a drought and wondered why people in and around Covert, Mich., called it that. We found out the following year when we built a cabin and lived there year-round. The Muck began where an unmaintained county road left off. It was a low brushy mix of silt and sand with a few gentle hills thrown in. We were less than two miles from town and we could hear expressway traffic on a still night, but we were far enough off the beaten path that hunters showed up one fall evening and at least acted like they were lost. The sanitary facilities in The Muck consisted of a seasonal two-holer. The warm-weather hole was the conventional kind: A pit set off from the cabin with a house on top. The winter hole was indoors in a throne room bumped out of the cabin’s back wall. You could sit inside, not far from the stove, with all the plumbing outside. All the plumbing was a galvanized tub in a box. The box had a hinged door on the back porch for easy emptying. And the Michigan winter kept things cold enough that the tub didn’t need to be emptied every day. Walking past the porch behind the cabin, no one would suspect the dangers that lurked nearby. Inside, if a visitor didn’t look too closely, the throne room seemed just another good use of space, an extra “sit down” in the 11-by-16-foot mansion. The outdoor hole was on a gentle hillside looking out over the estate and it was a great place to gain perspective. Through the screen door you could see two large gardens to the right. Straight ahead were a smaller garden, the goat and chicken houses, and the people house. The outdoor hole was a perfect place to plan the next strategic move in bringing order to the chaos that was The Muck: “I’ve got it. Next spring we’ll move the chickens and plant corn and squash in the ground they’ve cleared.” Whatever our efforts, however, The Muck never belonged to us. It belonged to rabbits, deer, snapping turtles, and whippoorwills. It belonged to mosquitoes and no-see-ums. It belonged to the salmon that came up from Lake Michigan into old drainage ditches. If you ask me, The Muck also belonged to something else. For one evening as I sat in the house on the hill, I knew I was being watched from behind. And the power that watched was a menacing power, a power against which I had no strength. Yet, as long as I stayed in the outhouse, I felt I would be safe. What was I to do? I will always be grateful that whatever watched let me finish my business, walk straight back to the cabin, and go inside without looking. This week's Scrambler In order to estimate your Scrambler IQ, award yourself 15 points for each word unscrambled, adding a 50-point bonus for getting all of them correct. If you find a typo, add another 15 points to your IQ. FLCKRIE EIURKCQ RQLOUI CARVI KERCIW EIKCNKR ERECKI REKLIC RECKIS KCILSRE Last week’s Scrambler TRAPMAR – RAMPART TRAZOM – MOZART TRAGOB – BOGART PARDET – DEPART XCRTOA – OXCART OUATRMST – OUTSMART THWSRTEEEA – SWEETHEART WOLFTRACH – FLOWCHART CHANATRD – HANDCART AAEBLCKHTR – BLACKHEART Submit your animal and family stories to: Poor Will, P.O. Box 431, Yellow Springs, OH 45387, or to wlfelker@gmail.com – he pays $4 for every story used in this column. Note: I may be publishing some past submissions in the 2020 edition of Poor Will’s Almanack. If contributors have any objections to this, please email me at wlfelker@gmail.com by Dec. 1. And listen to Poor Will's “Radio Almanack” on podcast anytime at www.wyso.org |
