Winter Has Arrived

December 21 is officially the start of winter, but for all practical purposes it arrived last night in the form of our first significant snowfall. Last Monday, November 19, the high temperature was 77 degrees F. Yesterday, November 23, we got three inches of snow. I guess that's the way it goes in the plains states (I would normally have said, "that's the way it goes in the midwest", but it has been pointed out to me by several residents that this is not the midwest but is part of the Great American Plains).

My car does not have covered parking, so this is what I found waiting for me this morning. The picture is a little dark as it was fairly early and still quite cloudy. Under the beautiful, fluffy snow lies hard as rock ice, so I got to use my ice scraper and bristle brush for the first time. I'll have to get a can of silicone spray in town and spray it on my rubber door seals so they don't freeze to the door as they tried to do today. Luckily, it didn't get too cold last night (about 17 above, F). I had to make a trip to Orleans this morning (distance= 7 miles, population=425) and tried to be prudent in my driving habits. There is an old saying to the effect that half of being smart is knowing what you're dumb at, and I have no trouble admitting that I am dumb at driving on snow and ice. I will learn as the months go by, but for now I'll take it slow and easy. My Sister, the Rev. Kathe Ford, lived in Alaska for ten years and told me that driving on snow and ice was easy as could be. No problem, she said. "Stopping on ice," she then said, "now that's a problem".

Here's what it looks like up the walk to my front door. The snow isn't very deep at all, but it's still a measurable snow fall. The concrete walks hold heat longer than the dirt areas, so they tend melt the snow off. Problem is, the melted snow shortly freezes and makes the walkways slippery and dangerous. I have purchased a pair of boots designed for good footing in snow and ice, but short of mounting climbing crampons, nothing can really give good footing on ice.

The view up the street shows off a wintry view that is truly beautiful. The high temperatures today and tomorrow will be in the mid forties, so I'm told that what is beautiful today will be ugly, muddy slush by Monday afternoon.

Ah, well. So much for a wintry paradise.

A Lot Going On, Part 2

Each year the Friday before Thanksgiving is the occasion for Alma's "Holiday Preview". The Christmas lights are up and lit. Christmas carols echo up and down the streets from strategically located loudspeakers and there is simply no place to park because all the shops are open and most of the town has turned out to take a look at this year's decorations.

When I walked past the Subway franchise and looked in the window, I could see my granddaughter busily putting sandwiches together for a host of customers. There were similar scenes in all the stores as the people of Alma made a point of walking each side of Main Street and stepping into each store for at least a few moments. Since almost everybody in Alma knows everybody else (at least slightly), it's a time of community conviviality.

Two small horses pulled a wagon filled with people on a tour of the four block area that is essentially downtown Alma, Nebraska. The wagon has regular automobile tires on its wheels, so it looked to be a comfortable ride. Even though it was after dark, I saw many hardy souls wearing only T-shirts, no jackets. The temperature was probably in the low sixties or high fifties, and a softy like me wears a light jacket in that weather, but then I've only been here a little over five months. Maybe my blood will thicken as time marches on.

The entity that operates my apartment complex, The Alma Housing Authority, led by my apartment manager, Denise (boy, is she high energy Irish), had set up camp at Joe Camera, my favorite store in town. Denise offered free coffee, cookies and blueberry muffins to all who stopped in. She was also offering a drawing for a new DVD player, so people came by, said "Hi" and generally hung around to talk. I had volunteered to help host a half-hour slot, so from 6:00 PM to 6:30 PM, I welcomed people and made sure they were aware of all to be had there at Joe Camera.

Two ladies from my apartment complex relieved me at the appointed time. One of them was my immediate neighbor, Ruby. Ruby is 98 years old going on 45 and has suffered no real ill effects of aging, other than (like most of us) she's probably not as tall as she used to be. If I make it to 98, I hope I am as physically and mentally able as is Ruby. She is a delight.

The free coffee was limited to regular and decaf, because the shop offers everything you can imagine in the way of coffee. In an earlier post, I commented on the wide selection of coffees available. So for those who wanted a Latte or a "Mocha Java" (whatever that is), I referred them to the store owner, Dusti, who happily obliged them at regular store prices for the fancy stuff.

The jars of coffee beans and tea leaves on the shelves are more numerous than anyone would ever expect to find in a town of 1232 souls. The tea included Earl Grey and Oolong Formosa, while the various coffees included a bean called, "A.M. Mayhem". I think I would be afraid to try that one first thing in the morning. I'll take ordinary coffee, thank you. In fact, I love the smell and taste of unsullied coffee, especially in the morning. When my daughter, Eva, and I have coffee at Bugbee's after our walks, I watch her pollute her cup of java with sugar and creamer, and I wonder if it's too late to save her from that poor condition.

Next Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, I will sit down and celebrate that holiday with both my daughters for the first time in 27 years. This is the kind of thing that my move from Duarte, CA, was all about. Time has taught me that few, if any, things are more important than family.

I hope everyone who reads this has a happy Thanksgiving.

A Lot Going On, Part 1

Sorry to have been absent so long, but a lot has been going on. A person might think that a small town in the late fall would be a quiet place with people getting ready to hunker down for the winter season. Not so. When November rolls around, Alma, Nebraska, gets crowded.

It's hunting season and it seems like half the state is here in camouflage (or camos, as is the new lingo) to hunt for deer, waterfowl, pheasant, quail, turkey, you name it. The two motels in town have "No Vacancy" signs hung out, which helps to explain why the Super 8 Motel chain is working frantically to finish their newest addition on Highway 183. It is currently set for a January, 2008, opening. This area is regarded as one of the "primo" hunting areas in the state, and the primary hunting season starts in November. Luckily, it's been a mild, if not warm, autumn, so those guys crouched down in the duck blinds at dawn aren't going to freeze to death.

It's been warm enough that my neighbor and I went fishing near the dam and while I got blanked, my neighbor, Steve, got two nice wipers (5 and 8 pounds) and a largemouth bass, not to mention two nice hookups that he lost. I didn't even get a bite. How is it that two people can stand essentially side by side, casting the same lure (silver and blue rattletrap) into the same locations and one gets the fish while the other (yours truly) draws a blank?

Deer season ends tomorrow, November 18, and that is good news for my walking habit. My daughter Eva and I have had to give up using the walkway built by the city because there are too many deer hunters out there and we don't want to run the risk of being a hunting casualty. Like any large group of people, 99% of the hunters are good at what they do and observe the rules of rifle and hunting safety. It's the 1 % who are idiots with guns that we worry about, so we have been meandering through town in the mornings trying to get our walking mileage in. With the season ending tomorrow at midnight, we will be back to our old routine on Monday.

Drop into Bugbee's restaurant at any time of the day and you will find that half the crowd is wearing camos or flourescent caps and vests while they eat their meals and scarf down the coffee. These are the hunters taking a break.

Another breed of hunter here is that of the archers. Archery deer season ended just before the rifle season began, and it was a smashing success. A combination mini-market gas station here is called the "Short Stop", and it is also a deer check-in station for those who have accomplished their mission. When I filled up with gas on the last day of archery season and commented on two deer that were strapped to pickup trucks in the parking area, the lady behind the counter said that they had logged in over 90 deer and one of them was the biggest whitetail deer she had ever seen. That's just one check-in station in one small town. This area draws a lot of people who, by staying at the motels, dining at the various eateries and shopping at the local stores pump a lot of money into the Alma Economy.

In the summer, of course, it is Harlan County Lake that brings people in. It's the second largest lake in Nebraska and the fishing and water sports keep the motels and RV parks reasonably full for the entire summer season. Some people in Lincoln (three hours away) and Omaha (four hours) park their RVs here for the summer and drive down every chance they can find to get away from work.

This is a remarkably busy little place. A cell phone company recently constructed a new tower across Highway 183 from Bugbee's, and companies don't do those kinds of things without market research that says the market here will expand. That gives us two cell phone options in town, now, so we're expecting the competition to produce some reduced monthly plans. Only time will tell.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words.........

A couple of friends said that while they appreciated my photos of the walkway, some were a bit too dark and it was hard to see the detail. Sorry about that. My digital is seven years old and doesn't compensate for low light levels well at all. On Some days I have carried one of my 35mm cameras and got some beautiful shots, so here they are.















You find beauty where ever you look for it. Don't forget to look.

Nuff Said

Let's Go Walking.....

I often mention my morning walks with my daughter, so it occurred to me today, when she said she couldn't make it, to take my digital camera along and show my friends what we see when we walk.

First off, about four years ago the city Alma installed a three mile long cement walkway near the shore of Harlan County Reservoir. It takes a person along grassy areas at its beginning in town, travels through two or three wooded areas, bisects a couple of small meadows and ultimately terminates at the Methodist Cove boat launching ramp right on the lake. Eva and I normally start at dawn and walk to the halfway point where there is a convenient bench. There we sit while I wait for my arthritic left hip to quit screaming at me and I take in a terrific vista of the lake itself. When my aging, decrepitizing (is there such a word?) body has recovered, we march back to our starting point. My pedometer has confirmed that the round rip march is a three mile trek, which we accomplish in just about one hour. Ours is not a leisurely stroll, it's a fairly aerobic pace and works well for both of us.













Here is where we start. The manicured area greets us at the beginning and welcomes us back when we have completed our route. It was here, a couple of months ago, that we saw a momma opossum trudging across the grass with five or six of her little ones clinging to her back.












Fallen leaves in the wooded areas confirm that the fall season is now in charge. While most of the trees still have their leaves, enough are on the ground to "leave" no doubt as to the departure of summer.












Normally, the morning sun is just starting its climb into the sky and not every area is fully lighted. The partial sunlight creates some striking views of the wooded areas. The grasses in the foreground have been throughly pushed flat by groups of deer, who use this small meadow to relax or sleep. With the tall corn crops now harvested, the deer, who often spend their days hidden in the corn fields, now come to the wooded portions of this protected area. Deer hunting season begins November 1, and they seem to sense that the law prohibits hunting on this side of the lake. We see as many as eight to ten deer each morning as they take flight at the sight of us.












Small creeks, or rills (I've always wanted to use that word), find their way down to the lake. We've seen wild turkeys, pheasants and, of course, deer drinking from this creek. Where there is abundant water, the grasses are still green, but that won't last long. Winter is seriously approaching.













This is our view from the bench at our halfway point. The lake is almost nine miles long and there are dozens of places to view it, but this is my favorite. The sun hasn't reached here yet, but it is still a remarkable view. Normally, I fish on the far side of the lake at a place called Cedar Point. With fall here, it's time for several species of fish to start feeding. I can't wait.










I understand why professional photographers love to play with different lighting. Here the rising sun creates a scene I simply can't pass up.

Here are some more scenes from the walk:










A Dixie Chicks song includes the lines: " I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall... I wanna be the only one for miles and miles...."



I find that concept appealing, and the walk is the place where it comes to life for me.
It's a bonus I didn't know existed when I decided to move here. It helps me feel blessed every day and I fully appreciate that every day is, indeed, a gift.

Winter Wheat - What's That?

Summer is officially gone in Nebraska and the fall season is in charge. I Drove to Kearney today in a driving rain with blustery cross winds that made me keep my speed well below the limit just to make sure I had control of the car. Everything is changing because the seasons are changing. I have been to Nebraska several times in the winter, but I have never been anywhere outside of California to watch the seasons change from one into another. It is a fascinating process. (Actually, I spent a year in Virginia in 1954-55 when I was in the army and I am sure I saw the season change, but a kid that age just can't appreciate something like the miracle of seasonal changes). The winds have stripped the leaves from many of the trees and covered the walkways. Soon the trees will be empty limbs sticking up in the colder air. And now is the time when the harvest is in full swing.

When my daughter and I have morning coffee at Bugbee's restaurant, I overhear snippets of conversations from hard working men who are preparing for another day's work at the grain elevators that offload the trucks filled with the harvested corn, soy beans and milo. Some of the truckers don't like the price they are being paid for their load while others don't like the wait behind several trucks in front of them. It's a new time of year, and it is reflected in the fields surrounding this area.

The green rolling countryside that so impressed me when I arrived in June is now brown and dead with just an occasional patch of green. Harvest time is here and the rolling vistas are still striking, but with a different sort of beauty. The endless fields of tall, green stalks of corn are now fields of short brown stalks no higher than 4 to 6 inches. The short stalks are left in the ground deliberately to act as snow traps during the winter, and they are absolutely essential for a successful winter wheat crop.

I had always thought that during the winter in Nebraska the fields just sat there waiting for spring so the plowing and planting could start all over again. Not so. Once corn is harvested and the remaining cane is chopped for cow feed, the short brown stalk remains. In late October and early November, the planting of the winter wheat takes place. Machines travel down the rows and punch seeds below the surface. These seeds are of a type that depend on being underground in cold weather in order to germinate and sprout in the earliest spring days. Those seeds sit there all winter taking advantage of what is called "dry farming". All that means is that there is no irrigation. The farmer depends on mother nature to supply the moisture in the form or rain or snow. Remember, snow is an insulator, that's why igloos and snow caves can keep people warm in the far, far north. Once snow falls, the left over stalks from the corn crop prevent the wind from blowing the snow away. The snow then keeps the ground temperature at seed level well above the air temperature. If all goes well, the seeds prosper during the cold of winter while humans go about their business dressed in fifty pounds of insulated coats, pants and boots.

When the cold of winter finally breaks in early spring, and when the the snow melts and the ground warms, the seeds sprout and farmers have another crop to harvest before they start to plow and plant for the new farming year.

The land is in use twelve months a year. Farmers need the land to keep producing income because theirs is a precarious financial existence. I spoke to a woman at the county offices one day who said she and her husband had been farming for the past twenty years, and finally this year, with its heavy spring rains and a reasonably kind summer, is the first year they will show a significant profit. Remember, Nebraska is one of those states with laws that prevent huge agri-corps from owning or operating farms. The state does all it can to promote the continued existence of family farmers. They are a dying breed in this country.

Parades And Cattle.

This past Saturday morning, October 6, I was flipping channels with the remote looking for something to occupy my brain while my coffee got my heart started, and I found myself watching a parade taking place in Grand Island, Nebraska. It was a terrific parade almost three hours long with a seemingly endless series of marching bands. This was no penny-ante parade, and there were thousands of people lining the streets to watch.

Grand Island is a city of 50,000 people about 2 hours east of Alma. It is the third largest city in the state (Omaha and Lincoln are the two biggest) and each year it holds what is called the Harvest of Harmony parade, which has been held annually for over 66 years. High school bands from every part of the state march proudly with their selected queen (each band has its own) waving from a float usually pulled by a shining pickup truck. Also marching was the United States Marine Corps Band, and, wow, did it ever get a standing ovation from the curb sitters as it moved down the parade route.

Originally called the "Central Nebraska Music Festival" the name was changed to Harvest of Harmony in 1946 and is held on the first Saturday after the first full, or "harvest", moon in October. This year 89 bands marched in the parade, but some years have seen even more. One year, in fact, the parade was listed in the Guinness book of world records as having the most bands in a parade when it hosted 132 marching bands.

Some high school bands from larger towns were big and had 100 or more students marching and playing. Schools from the smaller towns offered quite a contrast. This year the smallest band had but nineteen musicians. Alma High School was represented with a contingent of 42 band members, which is pretty good for a grades 7 thru 12 student body of 110 boys and girls. Almost half the student body is in the band. (My sixteen year old grand-daughter, Enchantra, is not in the band. Her talents are not musical, which is to be expected in this family, not one of whom can play an instrument or carry a tune.)

Each band elects its own queen, who then rides a float in front of the marching band and waves to the crowd. In 1952, one of those young ladies in the parade was Sharon Kay Ritchie, who went on to be crowned Miss America in 1956.

The state of Nebraska keeps offering up interesting and surprising events and facts about life in a farming community, and this parade is just one more of the pleasant surprises. Of course, there are other things that go on that don't exactly involve growing crops. Cattle, for instance.

If corn is king in Nebraska, then the raising and selling of cattle comes in a hot second. Here in Alma there is what is called the "Sale Barn", and every Tuesday morning I can hear the mooing of cattle who are not happy to be in that barn - They probably know they are "short timers". People truck the cattle in on Mondays from the local farms and ranches, then the feed lot buyers come in on Tuesday and bid on the animals that fit their requirements. After fattening up in the feed lot, they soon appear on dinner plates from New York to Los Angeles as steaks, hamburgers, roasts, etc. Sad, but true. Because of the importance of cattle to the Nebraska economy, vegetarians are, of course, not popular here. People who decry the consumption of red meat are looked upon as deranged souls who need counseling or a one-way ticket out of state.

My next post is going to cover another surprising discovery for me, "Winter Wheat". I didn't know there was such a thing, but there most certainly is, and I'd like to tell you all about it.

Charlie