November 28th, 2001

caillebotte_man at his window

from the nineteenth century French


Stephane Mallarme

Calm sister, toward your quiet brow where dreams
Roan autumn, toward the questing heaven of
Your eye, my soul mounts steadily; it seems
A jet of water sighing faithfully
Toward heaven in some worn garden; and, above,
October's blue is tender, pale, and pure,
And looks into the fountain with its sure
And infinite languor; in tawn agony
The leaves go with the wind and mark a dun
Hard furrow near a long cold line of sun.

translation by Yvor Winters

caillebotte_man at his window


The pleasant mist which filled the night and collected on the pines to drip with soft thuds to the needle-strewn ground has now become a drizzle. I miss the mist.
caillebotte_man at his window


A strong wind has come up this grey afternoon. Not a nice, warm wind such as that which people in Los Angeles have been enjoying, but a cold and damp mountain wind, ripping the leaves from the trees and driving the birds into shelter. I can't use the computer for long, because this type of weather inevitably leads to power failures here. I am thankful that wind this strong is a rarity in this place. As much as I enjoy the invigorating wind, I don't enjoy freezing in the dark when some tree falls across a power line and takes a pole or two with it.
caillebotte_man at his window

What the...


Snow in November! (Yeah, I know, that would be normal in a lot of places, but not here!)

About three inches have fallen in three hours. The leaves are not even off all of the trees yet. Well, they will be after this. So very strange. Some years we get no snow at all. When we do get snow, it is usually after the new year. I'm just not prepared for this. I hope we don't get one of those huge snowfalls. The worst I've seen here was about ten years ago, when over 30 inches fell in two days. The power was off for almost 90 hours. But that was in February. I don't think a storm this early in the season could bring that much. It better not.