I was ready to fish the Blue Ridge Mountains, but the National Park Service had wisely closed the Shenandoah waterways to fishing due to the extended drought conditions in central Virginia. On Thanksgiving morning my son and I climbed Turk Mountain in the park, enjoying crisp and clear conditions on the short hike out and back before rejoining Charlottesville friends and family for the holiday.
Back at home I reveled at the dark blue autumn night, the so-called Beaver Moon rising above the South Ridge following an afternoon of planting daffodil bulbs along our hillside paths with Leighanne. Time was passing so quickly I could only wonder, at my age, how many more full moons I’d see in this life where we’ve spent 43 years together re-inhabiting an old farm bringing land and house and heart to a mostly wonderful fruition. Old Woodenhead, my wintertime alter-ego, raps on his crown a few times and, thinking of the days ahead, hopes for the best.
Yes, for those metaphoric daffodil blooms of spring, we make the most of these darkening days like the beavers of the marsh and riverbank, their hunger satisfied in layers of fur and fat, still slapping mud or hauling browse to fortify their dens and lodges. Here the garden has been laid to rest, the lawn has been straightened, the barn roof repaired. I’ve given notice to the mice and the flying squirrels that their place is out-of-doors and not beneath our rafters come December. We need peace and stability in this crazy world of ours, but my warning to the wild ones (in as much as I adore them in their rightful realms) is sincere: I have traps, if necessary, and enough good alcohol to see us through.
Every year I say, ah, the first snowfall of the season… what a beautiful affair. The air sparkles with unusual freshness even if the temperature remains below the freezing point all day. I venture through the yard and climb uphill, as usual, but my boots crunch on crystalline ground. The birds have mostly flown, and the light is deceptively empty. The tracks of fox and deer are newly printed in the snow. I follow them until they veer off into the brown stalks of summer past, until my eyes, widened by four decades of living in the hollow, catch a distant view I’ve never seen before.
Rivertop Rambles 
Another nice reflection on life’s peaks and valleys, new perspectives, and the hibernation/rebirth cycle. I found your post from the trip when you, mom, Alyssa, and Richard hiked the Bearfence rock scramble: https://rivertoprambles.wordpress.com/2021/04/26/squaretails-shenandoah/
And, more so, this one: https://rivertoprambles.wordpress.com/2021/05/04/climbing/
Thanks Brent! Yes, for anyone curious about our explorations in Shenandoah Nat’l Park, hiking & flyfishing, check out these 2 links to older posts with greater details from Rivertop Rambles.
Really good essay. You have an observant and discerning eye.
Thank you! There’s a lot I can’t see, but it keeps me looking.
I should’ve come south of the Mason Dixon line with you, to reclaim Chester whether by hook or by crook. I’m down for it, just say the word.
Yes, you should’ve come along to help try to reclaim Chester2. We tracked him into the Appalachians, but he got away. You’ll have to join us on the next attempt!
Interesting. I too was hiking with my son in Virginia on Thanksgiving.
Glad to hear you had a good trip.
It was a good day for it, wasn’t it. In the mountains?
Great piece, Walt, words and images! There’s nothing like that first of the season crystalline crunch beneath your feet, although it might wear a little thin by March/April… The seasons tumble into years and they certainly fly by, or so it feels. Still, how great it is to be able to plant daffodils and expect to see them bloom – an act of optimism, care, tradition, love, even defiance, maybe…
Here’s hoping the cute if they stay outside critters behave, and old woodentop continues to give himself a rap on the head for many, many moons to come!
Hey, thank you, Plaid! Your reflection on the planting of autumn daffodil bulbs really hits the mark for me. The planting was my wife’s suggestion, of course, and my thoughts about it at the time were rather murky but I was pleased to dig along. For those reasons or suggestions that you indicate. Much appreciated!
Oh how I enjoyed these mountaintop rambles, Walt, your beautiful words and thoughts so eloquently flowing. The world you have made with the barn, giving notice to the critters, the hikes and tracks, the moon, it is a beautiful one and I am happy for you and your lovely family.
Thank you, Jet. Very kind of you and, as always, I much appreciate your thoughts & reflections!
Thanks for this Walt. Very enjoyable. Those Moon pics are ridiculous!
Wishing you the best of holidays and a great 2024.
A full Ridiculous Moon? Sure, the Beavers & I approve. Thank you, A., and happy holidays to you as well.