In my September 2025 post, I noted that my mind was full of unruly ideas waiting to form themselves into a reasonably cogent article.* Two months later, that still hasn’t happened. I think I might reasonably throw some blame on the challenging times.**  Instead, I am going back to the fundamental premise of this blog: eschewing grand belief systems, in favor of concentrating on smaller things, on trying to be closer to the ground (both in metaphor and in fact). So, with no essay in mind, I am falling back to a tool of education and other disciplines: the bulleted list.

• Speaking of smaller things, closer to the ground, I fear that oak leaf gall mites (Pyemotes herfsi) have it in for me. Since the summer of 2023, I have been prey to sporadic seasonable bouts of small, itchy, painful rashes that look like the work of oak leaf gall (or itch) mites. I am not sure that the oak leaf gall mites are the culprits, but, my  brief investigation leads me to think so. As an amateur (wannabe, at least) naturalist, I spend an inordinate amount of time poking around in nearby woods. Four of my favorite local parks have plenty of oak trees. I am happy about this as I love oak trees (see Old Growth), but I going to have to suit up more carefully next season.
• I do go on about flowers, trees, birds, and other little live things. Sometimes, too, I go on about canyons and other grand places.  However, I noticed a few months ago that the wallpaper on both my laptop and on my phone display photos of water. I think that looking at these photos calms me (a bit) and makes me happy (somewhat) even in these disordered and disturbing times. These photos remind me of the lake water I listened to and watched day and night during my childhood.
• I have been pretty grouchy the last few days and last night I had troubled sleep. Nothing major: life stuff, getting old stuff, and the ridiculous and unrelenting dross emanating from the U.S. president and his minions. Also, I have recently curtailed my nature walks hoping to avoid the pesky mites (see above). Still, It’s now the end of November, so today I chanced a walk over to the Ballston Wetland Park. I saw the water, the fall plants, the insects, and the birds. I watched a bumblebee busy in the late flowers and a small flock of Canada Geese flew in for a paddle. I heard several small birds in the underbrush and caught sight of a northern mockingbird and a cardinal. I feel much better now than I have for the last few days. I (sometimes) try not to be (overly) directive, but I do recommend a bracing walk in the woods, in the fields, along the shoreline, or in the park as an antidote to the blues.

near Kirk Creek, Big Sur, March 26, 2013 (my laptop wallpaper)

Lake Superior, Ontonagon, Michigan, September 17, 2021 (my phone wallpaper)

view from my front yard, Lake Sherwood, circa 1960s or 1970s (photographer unknown)

staghorn sumac, Ballston Wetland Park

mallard ruffling his feathers at Ballston Wetland Park, Arlington, VA

Canada geese, November 26, 2025

• In the beginning of November, Tom and I drove up to Michigan for the memorial for our sister-in-law, Nancy.  When we were young, Tom and I didn’t expect that we would come to enjoy memorials for those who die, but we have done so.  Along with the others in attendance, we laughed, we cried, and we ate a good lunch. Before and after the service, we drove the back roads of southeastern Michigan: sun and wind and red and golden leaves. It was perfect. This was the landscape of my early life. On the way up to Michigan and then heading back home, we stayed with George and his wife, Valerie, as we have for close to 40 years.  We drove home on the tollways, highways, and byways of Pennsylvania to visit our sister-in-law, Jeanne. Tom and I were glad to see so many people we love.
• I love music, but I never learned to play an instrument or to read music. In sixth grade or whenever, when students were encouraged to take up an instrument, I was too shy to do so. I regret this decision, but then I have been a life-long whistler–taking after my dad. I am writing about music now because the Beatles came to mind a few days ago and started me on this article.

There are places I’ll remember
All my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better;
Some have gone and some remain.

All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living,
In my life I’ve loved them all.      “In My Life,” (1965)

I wish you and those you love a Happy Thanksgiving..

* I am (mostly) not being lazy when I use this “wait until something bubbles up method.”  I discovered this method in college, or even before, and it works for me. There seems to be some part of my brain that keeps working on ideas and words while other parts are focused elsewhere.

**”Challenging times,” are my trying-to-sound-balanced words. More viscerally and honestly, the sh%$ storm that Tom foretold before the last inauguration has turned out to be an ongoing superstorm.  I am devastated by the wanton destruction of so many of our Constitutional, governmental, and societal norms on the part of individuals who appear to be cruel and fascist.  However, I will keep fighting what I believe is the good fight and trying to love my relatives and friends and neighbors. I also am working on having empathy for all.