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| The farmyard from the south |
Mike
and I traveled to Gilbert yesterday morning (Friday, Oct. 31). I had noticed a
blurb in Thursday’s Lewiston Tribune that someone had driven off the Gilbert
Grade at Milepost 46. We looked for the exact spot but didn’t find it.
Once
at the farmhouse, we unpacked and I washed and hung a load of clothes. A dull
morning turned into a sunny, warm afternoon. (Even so, those few hours of warm
sunshine weren’t enough to dry the clothes.)
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| Plank's pitch from behind the house |
After
lunch, the dogs begged for a hunt. (Yes, they did.) Mike was happy to appease
them. I went along, pleased for the opportunity to hike someplace that didn’t
involve Plank’s Pitch. And – I carried the camera and took many pictures.
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| Posing hunters |
We
have at least one covey of chukars here this year to the delight of the hunter.
The dogs found it for him and he got a double at the canyon rim. While he was
busy with that, a small doe and two fawn pranced past me as I waited above. I
wasn’t ready with my camera – no photo.
Autumn
can be gloriously beautiful, as it is on the Clearwater River right now, but it’s
drab at Gilbert. The stubble fields have lost their luster and what deciduous trees
and bushes we have don’t give us those glowing autumn colors. Even the maple
tree in the yard is not especially colorful, going from green to yellow to
brown. The summer / autumn fruits are past now. It’s easy to see how someone
living here year-round and facing a cold winter would find this time of year
depressing.
Mike
and I had our traditional Halloween celebration. I made lentil chili and
substituted a sweet potato pie for pumpkin. I managed to carry our
deteriorating jack-o-lantern from town. I would have left it here had I
realized we would return for Halloween. I leaned it against a pillar on the
front porch, lit a candle inside it, and took a picture for Nick and Hallie. 
Whatever
our decorations, there was apparently no one to see it except us. We had no
Halloween visitors unless you count the owl down at the pond. Its hoots were a
nice, eerie touch.
In
the evening Mike got a deer, and now that’s over and we’re both relieved. As I
write he has gone to town to take the meat to a processing plant.
2 comments:
Congratulations to the hunter!
We don't get any trick or treaters here, either, and I confess I'm thankful. My days of jumping up to answer the door are over. We went out to dinner and came home, watched a show on the DVR, and went to bed. (Mr. and Mrs. Excitement.)
Your evening sounds good to me, Chris. Just right, in fact.
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