We drove north to take out the lake pump (it runs over the beach so is subject to freezing) and move my car from the airfield to the garage. We half succeeded.
The Jeep, which seemed just fine when we used it in late September, squealed loudly on starting, smelled like burning, emitted lots of white smoke, and quite quickly snapped the serpentine belt. Not sure if something froze up along the belt or if the belt was at fault. Either way, it is currently disabled by the side of the road quite close to the Tobermory airport. Not using a vehicle is hard on it. We’re trying to reach the local mechanic, Mike, but he doesn’t have an answering machine, so it is hard to do.
I was afraid we’d missed the peak color. Although the oak and the maple let go of their leaves, today’s warm sun caught the gold of aspen, the orangey yellow of paper birch, russet of sumac and dogwood, and the orange tamarack needles. In the warm late autumn sun, the leaves were spectacular against the evergreen spruce and white cedar.
The lake is higher than it was in September, but the Flume is low, diving underground before the log bridge. Today was so warm that butterflies flitted about on the Lighthouse Road. Buffleheads bobbed, dove, and surfaced on the waves in front of the cabin, grouse haunted the woods, scattering on sight or sound, and a fox darted into the brush off Meadow Road.
The people side of things is a little less active. We met some neighbors out for a walk with their dog. As I cycled to the lighthouse, I encountered only one car.
We did our chores (pulling some of the woodpile inside, pulling out the lake pump), Dave did some mighty fine cooking, and we had some lopsided games of honeymooner’s pinochle. I got in a bike ride and an afternoon nap. So the car doesn’t work. Still a wonderful day.
So delightfully readable. I wonder if this is in the tradition of letter writers from years ago (before email and instant messaging, et al). If so, we are missing a pleasure.