You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
A boreal larch tree, also known as hackmatack, is a member of the pine family, it is one conifer that changes color every fall and loses its needles. The species grows in wet soil and withstands extremely low temperatures, reasons it’s found widely around here.
Its bright yellow autumn color is shared with birches, also found widely hereabouts.
And let’s not overlook the red punch of sumac.
All too soon, it’s over.
THE EPISCOPAL VICAR decides to construct a Celtic burial ground on a rise / knoll near her parsonage. Somehow, the parts have fallen on her: incredible stone crosses and monoliths, etc.
She engages my Lady of Gardenias to help on the stonework.
Getting there. we keep coming upon the rotary in Kittery, although the Vicar’s house is suspiciously like a restaurant at a rotary in Manchester in size and placement. More than once, I miss the right exit (or nearly do) – again, the tension of responsibility.
I remember raising Tibetan prayer flags in that cemetery-garden, too.
Rotary, or traffic circle, I now hear as “rosary.”
WITH MY LADY, ARGUING ABOUT where the town of PHARES was – are we trying to get there, together. What state?
I awaken and search my U.S. atlas: it’s nowhere!
I HAVE TO PICK HER UP AT THE AIRPORT. (Hey! That element again.) Take her to a ranch house, someplace we’ve rented. Lots of other people are around, as in-laws or whatever.
Not sure now whether she had a tattoo – think it was a fake, to goof on me. Washed off.
She has two babies now, the newest a curly haired boy with brown/black hair, who PURRS as I’m stroking his head, “putting him down.”
I’m building a wood fire in the fireplace while the phone’s ringing. “Will somebody answer that?” but all too busy.
Chaos! Chaos of her!
Every time I get near her, she backs off. Eludes me in the social scene, whether party or family gathering. Yet shortly before she’s to leave – and shortly after I concluded it wasn’t worth my effort to continue – she confronts me, invites me, draws me into a small room – a closet with a window, actually (like my bedroom in the bungalow long before I met her!) – and opens her blouse, asking me to caress her.
AS I THEN SEE, we’re in her apartment, also shared with a newspaper office – overlooking the workspace, like the residence in the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.
With a 21.3-inch diameter and placed 31.7 miles from the sun in Presque Isle and having many moons too small to be presented at this scale, this stormy mystery orb also hints at the vast span of our solar system.
By this point in the drive, I’m really struck by the emptiness of the solar system and the space beyond. It’s essentially a vast, overwhelming nothingness. These are like pins in the proverbial haystack. And then, take heed of the incredible balance of forward motion and the sun’s gravity holding each one in place.
Science can attempt to answer the “How” in our ponderings, but as for the “Why,” if one even exists? That would mean facing questions of religion or theology. I’m not even touching on the mythological dimensions of these specks in the night sky.
Is it all an accident or some intentional mathematical outcome? Hmm, is there a neo-Calvinist turn in this thinking? We have miles to go yet.
In my previous visit to Aroostook County, I remember my amazement at passing this puzzling presentation only to encounter Saturn about 20 minutes later. Now I know it wasn’t one person’s quirky obsession.
Supposedly my Zodiac identity, and likely not yours, the model sits 20.7 miles from the sun model at the bigging of the display. Here its diameter is 22 inches.
The reason for the angled arm that lifts the planet is to present the axis with its extreme tilt, pointing its North Pole permanently toward the sun.
And we think a midnight sun at the height of summer’s a big deal? How about the endless darkness at the South Pole?
When you stop to think about it, the labor and care supporting this solar system presentation is astonishing. Just whose flash of inspiration came up with the calculations of our central star and its orbiting bodies, starting by placing Earth a mile from the sun?
And then came all the craftsmanship not just with the heavenly bodies but also the concrete bases and metal arms plus landscaping and the willingness of landowners to make room for the displays on their properties and tourists poking around. In all, 700 volunteers were involved one way or another.
For a large county with a small population, it was a truly astronomical undertaking. And there’s more …
Greek temple revival style house along U.S. 1 in Robbinston.
Getting further out on our solar system journey, we come to the dramatically ringed planet. Sitting 9.7 miles from Aroostook County’s model sun in Presque Isle, its diameter here is 51.9 inches but the outer ring extends the diameter to 117 inches – nearly 12 feet.
Of its many moons, only Titan is large enough to be displayed on this scale.
Back in New Hampshire, I was often engaged in a losing battle with squirrels. We had them for a while in the wall of the house and in the bay window, found they’d chewed into the attic through the flashing around the chimney, and were never able to eradicate them from the Red Barn, where they pretty much devoured a 20-foot strip of crown molding. They were always digging up bulbs or taking chunks out fruits and vegetables in our gardens.
At least we eventually got a birdfeeder that would send them falling off, an advance that left us endlessly amused, especially when we noticed the obsessed critter as a new kid on the block.
One good friend, an avid gardener, aptly dubbed them tree-climbing rats with big tails.
Here are a few related facts.
At least we don’t notice them around our current home on an island in Maine. Instead, we have deer.
The largest planet in our solar system represents a gap between the cluster of planets closest to the sun and those beyond. At 5.2 miles from our model sun on our astro-scavenger hunt, we’re finally getting some size. This one’s a bit wider than a five-foot arm span – it’s 61.4 inches – like a really big beach ball. And its four largest moons are Io, 1.6 inches; Europa, 1.3; Ganymede, 2.3; and Callisto, 2.1.
Remember, this is a scale of one to 93 million. As inconceivable as that seems.
After her excited dream of being thrown
from GI to GI in a barracks
I knew we were in trouble
Jnana's Red Barn 