Snow in the forecast (finally)

Today is the day before Thanksgiving, and we are finally due for some snow, though it is predicted to be only about an inch or so here on the San Luis Valley floor. The eastern San Juan Mountains just to the west of us may receive 8-12 inches by Friday morning (36 hours from now). The past five nights have been single digits, and the birds have been ganging up on the four feeders set out for them. I finally took the time to find the birdbath water heater so now they don't have to deal with the block of ice every morning. Alas, I head out of town for four days, so they'll all be on their own for food until our return.

Splitting firewood can wait until our return, as can continued garden cleaning, leaf-collecting & raking, perennial watering, and more outdoor tasks. The firewood photo is from two or three years ago - yes, we manually split all of it! We pay anywhere from $120 to $130 per cord of wood; my sister told me that where she lives in Cape Cod, MA, a cord of split wood costs about $350! Our winter last year was a bit harder than the two previous winters, and I got tendonitis from too much wood splitting. This year I'm going to try to do better with using the left arm more.

Late-autumn composting

I'd hoped to have time to turn the contents of my Home Composter once more before severe cold set in. Alas, such was not to be. With temperatures in the single digits the last three nights, and daytime temperatures in the shade in the 40s, I suspect my compost containers that are in the shade have already begun to harden a little. If I had confidence in my wintertime composting ability (i.e., actually make a "hot" compost pile), I'd probably go ahead and turn it and try to heat it up again. But I'm not convinced it's worth the effort.

So with the little remaining space available inside the composter, I'll continue dumping the contents my kitchen containers into it, separated by layers of dried fall leaves. When the bin reaches its limit, I'll consider it full and save any turning activity for the spring. Granted, I'll have some gross soggy stuff to look at come spring, but it won't be the first time! And I love thinking about what that gross soggy stuff will turn into within a couple of months!

Autumn in warmer climes

We just returned a few hours ago from a trip to the Lower Canyons of the Rio Grande; this section of river forms the intenational boundary between US & Mexico, and also between Texas & Mexico. Had the river to ourselves & our small raft for the most part, except for a VERY low-flying Border Patrol helicopter that buzzed us one morning as it zipped downstream, I assume looking for suspicious-appearing people who might have been wanting to cross from one country to the other.

The Rio Grande had experienced SIGNIFICANT flooding starting in September of this year - some images and text are posted at the site below. We didn't encounter extremely high water, but did run into lots of carrizo cane & some tamarisk that had been run over by the river, and was now lying in huge piles on the banks. A lot of the riparian plant life appeared dead at first glance, but that wasn't really the case. The carrizo cane seemed especially immune to the damage it had experienced; in many parts of the corridor over 10 feet of new growth had already been added on to what was left from the flood. I had wondered during the trip if the carrizo cane (Arundo donax) was native or not, and had assumed the former. Having just googled the plant, I found out from the Dept. of Homeland Security website I was way wrong! It apparently was imported to the US from Europe many, many years ago, and has now established itself quite well. Its root system was astounding - strong, fibrous, resilient. No wonder it's invasive.

The photo shows some new green growth sprouting from materials that look dead. But they're not dead!

I couldn't resist cutting down some of the dead canes to bring home with me for gardening stakes; this stuff is just like bamboo, and will make great bean poles and other supports. I don't think it'll be missed.

The flood had caused a few of the potential hiking areas to be completely muddied over - more than once we'd step out of the boat or further up on shore, and start sinking into a quadmire of sucky mud that didn't want to release our feet. We saw only two terrestrial critters during the trip, and I don't know if that's unusual or not. I wondered if quite a few had died or been washed downstream in the rising flood waters. http://www.bigbendgazette.com/blog/_archives/2008/9/22/3896046.html

Prior to the raft trip on the Rio Grande, much time since my last post was spent working on the local campaign of my choice for next President. It is time for New Leadership for our Changing World.