Ramble with Storm: Storm’s butt & other rear views

SHARE Ramble with Storm: Storm’s butt & other rear views

Mulling things on the morning ramble with Storm, the family’s mixed Lab.

Yes, that photo qualifies as an editorial statement.

One of the town leaders got fed up with the trash barrels not being emptied around the town pond, so he got his pickup and picked the barrels up himself, then emptied them at the town dumpster by the village garage.

He was working on another round of barrels when Storm and I rambled up this morning. So I tied the meathead up and began helping pick up blown-around trash and to load the other barrels.

We tried to lift the barrel on the other side of the bridge over the neckdown between the two old clay pits, but the two of us could not load it.

Later I took the editorializing photo above.

I have mixed feelings about the barrels.

On one hand, they do help with the trash around the town pond. People do use them. But it only works if the barrels are emptied, otherwise, the trash just blows around or is rooted through by animals.

On the other hand, I tend to agree with the more modern strategy of putting up no trash barrels and forcing people to take their trash back home. If they brought it in, they can take it out.

The theory on that is good. In practice, it does not always work as well.

Another rear view is of the summer.

The kids started school today.

No rabbits anywhere near the bus barn. And I did not expect any on the first day of school with all the bus traffic.

I expected to see Canada geese, but I did not see a single one, not in town or out, not on the water or the land.

Mourning doves were all over again. I counted 17 on one set of wires, but it was too far for me to get a good photograph of them.

A few fish dimpled the flat surface of the town pond.

As we neared the end of brush above the south end of the south pit, a rabbit bolted down the old rail bed, now a trail. So at least we had one rabbit for the morning.

As we came up the front steps, a blue jay squawked across the street from the neighbor’s elm.

An hour later, the two youngest left for the first day of school. And the regular routine begins.

With it comes a sense of melancholy, of change and loss.

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