rural essays - jarviscoffin.com (Page 2)

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rural essays

A collection of 49 posts

February

We made it. February. Now the year can really begin.

Our Town

I kept thinking . . . all these people are paying what it costs to buy food for a week to hear what Mr. Wilder can share with them about life . . . . in our small corner of the world.

Wood Heat

Heating with wood is a complex business . . . one manufacturer described the process as more art than science.

Home Again

It is good to get out of the woods now and then. Even Huck would agree.

Michaelmas

We celebrated Michaelmas—the feast of the Archangel St. Michael, as well as his compatriot Gabriel (I think also the other Archangels)—by pulling up our carrots.

Fall

Within a second of its release from a branch, an acorn falls to earth at the rate of approximately thirty-two feet per second, or about fifty-seven miles per hour. How do I know this? I looked it up on the internet. There was the answer—which has me

Quiet Time

I finally went to the trouble of getting a canoe onto on body of water known as Carpenter’s Marsh. Getting there requires four-wheel drive and something to port the canoe, a trailer for instance, or a rack, or, since this is New Hampshire, a pick-up with a

Labor Day Weekend. Already.

Labor Day Weekend. Already.

The steps to our hillside garden are not repaired. The felled wood is not all cut up and stacked. The dock is still waiting to be treated with teak oil.

Chicken Barbeque

Chicken Barbeque

. . . nothing says community—or, Old Home Day—like a volunteer fire department and chicken barbeque.

Harvest Jitters

Harvest Jitters

For us backyard gardeners, this is the time of year we fear most for our crop. It is not like we have a super abundance to go around.

Photo by Behnam Norouzi

August

These are the sultry days of deep summer.

Visualizing World Peace

Visualizing World Peace

Attendees at this year’s [MacDowell] Medal Day, were given white luggage tags and a pen and urged to write our wishes and hang them on fruit trees in the MacDowell Gardens.

Summer People

The July and August people have arrived, bringing with them their patronage of our stores and their vehicles, requiring me to look both ways before pulling out of the driveway.

Independent, Inching Forward

Independent, Inching Forward

Soon you have the sense you are talking about the same things, which is when it hits you . . . you have only inched forward.

Good, Quality Thunder

Good, Quality Thunder

The rain had stopped and we sat just to watch and listen as the storm’s slashing furry settled to not much more than a purr.

A Sensitive Time

A Sensitive Time

Those are things you must get used to in New England, learning to be a tough tomato.

June

Huckles has developed a problem: he visits the neighbors.

Liver Free or Die

Liver Free or Die

I object to the narrow use we make of the animals that pay the ultimate sacrifice on the way to our table.

Tractor Pull

I interview everyone with a tractor and they say the same thing: I love my tractor.

Calmly on the Waters

Calmly on the Waters

Of all the animals we will share property with this summer, we are most attached to the loons. They are the only creature that does not bolt the instant they become aware of our presence.

Total Eclipse

The memory of projecting light on the shirt cardboard stands out only because it was the same afternoon we were taken to see the play, Peter and the Wolf.

Easter

When it comes down to it, nothing unseen fits comfortably into the containers of what is seen. Time is one of those things. And surely you know, Easter is another.

Town Meeting

It is Town Meeting season, that time of year . . . for throwing a few punches at your neighbor over the cost of building a new school, apportioning land, and repairing roads so . . . people can . . . get to church.

Moon Walk

I submit our Presidential candidates should be required to spend three nights around a campfire with a view of the sky as part of their spiritual journey to the office.