Friday, October 23, 2009

A Cabin In The Fall Wind

The wind has been stirring. The forest creaks. The leaves rustle. Things bump out there among the trunks. I hear other things. A faint meow. I call. It is so distant it could be a sad memory or my wishful imagination. Crawford. Collar. Now where did she get to?

The wind is too loud moving through the forest. Fall brings a whole new array of sound as leaves scatter around. Fruits and nuts drop. The constant rain of branches plummeting to the earth increases in a stiff wind. I can't hear what I imagine I am hearing. A meow must be separated from the rubbing violin of trunks and branches. I wait for a still moment. Collar. Collar. Now where did she get to?

After a couple of hours she finally appears. A roll call training session has begun with an evening feed of canned food.

The thinning forest is about to reveal a summer's work to passersby. It may reveal other things I dread.

From the cabin looking out towards the scenic byway, the trees of the septic drain field garden to be are in their prime. The always half dead Black Locust are on my hit list. Some judicious thinning could allow the addition of some Silver Bell or Sourwood trees. I like my summer privacy screen.

It has been a long time since I have seen the entire floor inside the cozy cabin. The remaining batts of insulation were tossed up in the main loft to make way for the drywall to be delivered.

The floor insulation sandwich is moving along smoothly. A truly insulated house will soon be a reality.

While a cabin grows, a sweep of forest dies. Behind the cabin on the right is a former grove of the mighty Hemlock. Eighty foot tall carcasses are all that remain. When will they fall? It is a sound I am sure to hear. Loud crashes and groaning trees leaning quickly to the ground are a rather common voice in the wild forest. Wind is not always needed.

There is a nice view into the forest canopy from the window in the loft. There could be a whole new array of sound from up here. Funny how the eye does not see screen and the camera hones in on it.

The forest talks and I listen. I need to know who is out there. First I must become fluent in the seasonal language. Rain drops hours after the skies have dried. Ice whispers as it warms and falls. Branches clatter when bare, in leaf it is a stadium roar.

I think I hear a faint meow far off in the distance. It could be carried in on the wind. I position myself, ear cocked in multiple locations. I wait for a still moment. Surely this is imagined, the echos of brain cells deep in the recesses of my psyche. Crawford ... sigh.

Then a small black and white figure comes running down the driveway at dusk with a hoarse meow. Collar what are you so exited about? Meow, mow. The meow is not right. Could it be?

Good Lord have mercy it is. It's Crawford!

He is skinny, hungry, skittish and hyper, but Crawford is back home. There are no dings or dents, no tears, wounds or bald spots. He looks just fine. Crawford is back after five days of an unexplained disappearance.

I think someone is baiting a live trap around here. The question is why can't I hear the kitties cry?


Siria said...

Hi Christopher! Oh my....I bet you are tired of worrying about those kitties! It's like having teenagers around! Sure am glad Crawford is back home safe and sound.

Your post is beautiful! You are so talented!! And your photographs are stunning! I love that first photo of your cabin in the thinning forest. Just beautiful!

Lola said...

Hi Christopher! The heaviness of the heart is lifted. At first I thought Collar had pulled the same thing. But No, And beautiful Crawford is back home where he is most wanted. A happy heart now but will serve can goodies to entice all to stay put.
The Cozy Cabin looks wonderful. It will look different when the wall material is installed. Even more so when the paint is applied.
The privacy formed by the foliage is most desirable. A constant green "fence". That was my choice when there. We don't mind an occasional peek but would rather have the privacy.
I'm so glad Crawford is home.

Christopher C. NC said...

Siria it is strange but I kept looking for Crawford to pop out of no where today.

Thanks for the complement. After a summer of what felt like major slowness with the plumbing I am feeling much better about the progress of things.

Christopher C. NC said...

Lola I sure hope Collar doesn't follow this bizarre pattern and disappear for a week. When I next see the hunter's truck who walks back in to the woods I am going to say hello or leave him a note and ask about a live trap in the area. Yes every little layer makes the cabin more of a home.

chuck b. said...

You know, their brains are the size of walnuts. But the trouble they put us through!

Someday I *will* visit you and see this wonderful landscape for my own self.

Will you leave a note, or a newspaper in the wall, behind the sheetrock? Why not.

Les said...

I was enjoying a post about the sounds of fall, admiring the colors and your cabin and jealous that you live somewhere that needs such screening - then the post turned into a happy cat ending. I hope they did not get into any human induced trouble, but were just out on a rip and a tear.

Lisa at Greenbow said...

I bet you are right about the live trap. Poor kitties being enticed into the trap. I am glad he lets them loose instead of killing them.

Sheetrock...sounds like progress to me.

Christopher C. NC said...

Chuck maybe it can't be good that I live in a forest full of walnut brains. The constant interaction leads to drama. I hadn't thought of a note behind the drywall. Maybe. Visit anytime.

Les somehting is going on to keep them away. They have it good here and Crawford was indeed jumpy when he got back.

Lisa I am sure glad that they are being returned alive. Hopefully the trapper will move further away or least understands there are people and pets close by. Yep sheetrock time approaches. Just in time for winter like weather.

Commonweeder said...

Christopher, What a beautiful fall - and cabin. It seems to be coming along nicely. Cats are pretty clever, and they like to keep us on our toes. Fortunately ours are getting too old and rarely wander anymore.

Pam said...

I've been reading the Crawford saga in reverse order, and am so glad that he has returned!

The images here are so beautiful - when I was in Virginia last weekend, the color was still muted (it had also been a dry late summer, so the colors weren't quite what they sometimes are). You are in such a beautiful spot.