Now constantly there is a 

Sound, quieter than rain,

Of leaves falling.

Under their loosening bright

Gold, the sycamore limbs

bleach whiter. – Wendell Berry

                

Phases of the Thin Time Moon

Nov. 1: The Thin Time Moon is new.

Nov. 9: The moon enters its second quarter.

Nov. 15: The moon is full.

Nov. 22: The moon enters its final quarter.

Weather Trends

Weather history suggests that 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 one in five. 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 5th of November, they occur 25 percent of the time, and chances rise to over 40 percent by the 10th of the month.

The Natural Calendar

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.

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.

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.

Cattails begin to break apart as the final giant jimsonweed opens in the cornfields. 

Late Fall, a three-to-four-week transition period of chilly temperatures, gray skies, and killing frosts, usually arrives by today, and tomorrow is the pivotal day for autumn cloud cover to intensify.

The South Taurid shower brings a handful of meteors per hour on the evenings of Nov. 5-6.

 

In the Field and Garden

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.

Almanack Classics

An Indoor/Outdoor Two-Holer

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 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.

 

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