CELEBRATE THE SEASON:
The Time of Falling Leaves
by Mary Lou Healy

Autumn: The Exultant March to Death
by Zephine Humphrey

Emilo's Creations are Gourd-eous
by Kirt Zimmer

A Harvest of Fall Recipes

POETRY:
A Vermont Walk in October
by Daniel L. Cady

When the Frost is on the Punkin
by James Witcomb Riley

GARDENING:
Legends of the Chrysanthemum
by Leonard Perry

EVERYTHING WOOD HEAT:
Drop Me a Liner
by Daryle Thomas

INTO THE OUTDOORS:
Long Trail Therapy
An Excursion into the Woods Rekindles the Spirit.

VERMONT WEATHERVANE BOOK NEWS:
Passing Strange
True Tales of New England Hauntings and Horrors

Richard Brown's New England
A new book by acclaimed photographer Richard Brown.

GET OUT AND ABOUT:
Views Through Time:
A Driving Tour of Rutland County, Vt.

Vermont Country Calendar

EXPLORE OUR OTHER SEASONS:
FALL
WINTER
SPRING
SUMMER

If you didn't pass through Rural, Vermont to get to this site you may want to make a small detour.

It's worth the trip!

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Write Us:
weathervane
@ruralvermont.com
We welcome your comments, suggestions, and questions.

or call: 802-645-9631
RD 1, Box 680
West Pawlet, VT 05775

©1996-97 Vermont Weathervane
All rights reserved.

A Vermont Walk in October
by Daniel L. Cady

The days have come when you can hear

An old gray squirrel cough,

A turkey sneeze, a chopper chop

An awful long ways off;

A thrashing outfit, too, resounds

All through the countryside;

There isn't nothing you can't hear,

Size up and subdivide.

It's fun to leave your coat at home,

And like as not your vest,

And roam the woods with one eye out

To spot a crowbird's nest;

It's easy now when leaves are thin-

"There 'tis, as sure as pop!"

No other way, for carrion crows

Don't let no earmarks drop.

There's new and old leaves everywhere,

The past and present tense,

And soon you come to Ely's line

And his pluperfect fence;

He hasn't fixed it sense the time

They had the turkey shoot,

And them there crosslot Crams come through,

Erastus, Ned and Newt.

'Twas Preacher Beecher called these days

The gorgeous time of year,

And he used words for meat and drink

And air and atmosphere;

I'd like to tramp a day with him,

If he was here on earth,

'Twould add about two-foot, I guess,

To any wordsmith's girth.

Another thing that you can do

As you pervade the woods,

And that's to reinforce your hold

On root-and-erbish goods;

You know tall boneset, and you know

If ginseng grows around;

It's wuth, they say, when scalped and cured,

An English pound a pound.

Perhaps you'll bring back home with you

Some blackbry brandy root,

Or red thorn apples, cute enough

To make the youngsters toot;

Perhaps you'll find some birch beer stock,

Whilst legging it about,

Or skunksfoot cabbage that will make

A sweeter kind of krout.

Beats all how many things there are

Right 'round beneath our feet;

The season brings 'em out and makes

A tramp a glorious treat;

But don't taste any blue cohush

Or horrid henbane plant,

You'll want to go another day,

And if you do you can't.

-DANIEL L. CADY