With Saturday’s rain and the cold front that swept in behind it, has The Mountain crossed the threshold into autumn weather?
Oh, probably.
Overnight temps stopped sliding at 50°F Sunday morning, though a brisk wind made it feel colder. The cabin was damned cold, too, to tell you the truth, to the point that I plugged in a space heater and pulled my hoodie’s hood over my head.
This is my first seasonal cycle in the cabin. Last fall, I was still in the camper, which, for all its faults (like an inoperable furnace), I had pretty well dialed-in comfort-wise. I got to thinking yesterday about what the weather was like 12 months ago but couldn’t remember, so I re-read October 2024’s blog posts.
By now The Mountain already had seen the 30s a number of times. Halfway through the month we had our first frost. Colorful foliage appeared much sooner last year.
That surprised me — sort of. I’ve spent fall and winter in Ozarkansas now four times, and yet this fifth go-’round feels somehow unfamiliar.
Maybe that’s because so much else has changed. New living quarters, as I said. It’s the first autumn in 16 years that I won’t be able to romp in fallen leaves with my sweet girl Scout. And, of course, I’m now an unmarried man.
One thing that hasn’t altered since last year is the work that I do day-to-day. Domestic routine aside — which takes little time and even less effort — I’m doing the same things today that I did a year ago today, and then some.
Changes don’t bother me. It’d be some kinda boring life if every day (or every year) was the same.
Waking up each morning to terra incognita might just be a sign that I’m doin’ it right.
When I was scoping out the fire pit closest to the cabin the other day, I saw something that made my heart sink — thousands of blue berries on the ground, fallen from eastern red cedars.
I’d meant to harvest a few in September, but it totally slipped my mind. Looking around, all of the female trees I’d had my eye on were bare of berries. I could’ve scooped whatever I wanted off the ground, since they were clean and still fresh, but in the moment I was stuck on disappointment.
But then, during my first daylight walk with Smudge early Sunday morning, I spied a single branch on a single tree that was loaded with the tiny blue orbs. It was within reach, too, so I brought out a colander and stripped several low-hanging clusters.
That small amount (pictured) is all I can imagine using for culinary and medicinal purposes over the next year. I still need to thresh them, and I’ll probably dry them in the food dehydrator.
I know I’ll find more as I venture afield, but I’m thrilled that I got what I needed now, still “on the vine.”
(For the record, calling them “cedar berries” is a double misnomer. The tree known as “eastern red cedar” actually is a juniper — Juniperus virginiana — and those “berries” technically are cones.)
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable