Beautiful Browns

by marjasisu, posted in Camp Many Moons

In my 60s, I’m more and more attracted to browns. I wonder why, since I once preferred reds and blues? I think one reason is my increasing immersion in nature. I find the earthy colors calming. That’s why the Cabin at Many Moons is planned around them.

This is a fortunate trend in late-autumn since brown is the prevailing color. 😄 Before leaving the far-north one week ago, I took a final row on Huron Bay. As you will see below, brown can be beautiful. I’ve learned to see beauty in unexpected places … and to take nothing for granted. Including heat. Read on!

This is how the house looks from the water in late November. The deciduous trees are now crowned with brown, but the evergreens are…well, ever-green! The dock is out of the water and interrupts the view of the house. Smoke from the woodstove emerges from the chimney. The trailer, which I continued to use during the day, will be fully closed up and the remaining food and toiletry items inside will freeze. (I removed any that shouldn’t.) This will be a white scene soon. Sometime next year, the white house-wrap will be covered by “smart siding” in…can you guess?…shades of brown that imitate wood.
I use the rowboat more than kayaks or paddle boards, since rowing is such good exercise–so, since the water was calm, I got in one last row. I remember struggling through deep snow up here in late November so was grateful for this opportunity. Though in the low 40s, the air didn’t feel cold. (Even weak sun is warming.) The grasses across the bay look taller than they are…
… and these rocks, normally hidden underwater, look more menacing than they are.
Low water and reflections added drama to the brown-ness!
The ruins of the Iron Bay and Huron Range Railroad (click here for more) look dramatic, too.
I rowed back to “my” side of the bay as the sun dipped low. My little island (really a tiny peninsula) with its struggling cedars reminds me of the resilience of the far-north. I won’t cut them down until they somehow tell me they’re ready to go.
On my last night in the far-north, I stayed at the waterfront well past sunset on a moonless night. A dark night. I turned off my headlamp here to show you just how dark. I’ve become accustomed to maneuvering in the dark but I won’t miss using a headlamp!
On the morning I left, the dock was covered in frost…
… and the November sunrise lit up the waterside grasses that will soon be smashed by snow.
I don’t like the way the dock blocks the view when it’s pulled out of the water, but it’s still a beautiful view. And a beautiful dock!
Inside the house, the woodstove partnered with the new spray-foam insulation to create warmth. I wonder how much Jeff will work inside here while I’m gone? Not too much, I hope. He needs a break as much as me…to work on his own camp, for one thing.
Boo the Traveling Cat will miss her outdoor explorations here. But she’ll find grass to munch on back home in Virginia. She’s such a good traveler. She’s adjusted to change, too.
In the week since I left, Jeff has been splitting firewood…about 70 logs, averaging 10 feet long. That’s 700 feet of firewood! So now the (brown) concrete porch of the new house holds wood piles. We cut down a lot of trees this year (remember the diseased black ash?), which is bad for the land but good for heating. It takes a lot of firewood to keep three woodstoves going — two at Jeff’s camp and one in this house.
His work filled the open-sided woodshed at his camp. It looks like a lot of firewood. It is. But when wood is your only source of heat, it goes quickly. Since insulating my new house, I’ve become more alert to this heating business. As I write this, I’m sitting in the office of my home in northern Virginia near Washington D.C. I have electric heat. And I’m chilly. Why? Because the brick walls of this historic building aren’t insulated, so it’s hard — and expensive — to heat. I’m too efficiency-minded to “crank it up,” knowing half the heat (and $) will go through the walls, which are cold to the touch. So I wear socks all the time. And fleece. And, sometimes, a hat. Amusing, I know, given how much I’ve spent to build a new house
But that frugality is one reason I’m able to build it, with its spray-foam insulation and heated floor. I balked a bit at the price but know I’ll be grateful for them. When I eventually move in.

8 thoughts on “Beautiful Browns”

  1. Well we got our snow. Mark will be happy. We just got home from a 3 week trip. From Florida to see his 97 yr old Dad. He spoke at a Vetrens Day ceremony. He was in the Navy. I told him about you. He was impressed. Fortunately we got out of Ks and Iowa and WI which all got snow.
    And we got here before the white out roads
    Take care of you
    Julie

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  3. Our beautiful browns are now covered in white and the cold arctic air has arrived. Leif had to wear his coat for yesterday’s walk, but Tater was happy with the fresh snowfall.

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