Windless in silence for a change.

We've had a lot of wind recently ... on workdays ... so a little calm on the weekend was welcome, especially since I had a cold and was not doing anything but catching up on those things you put off when it's windy sailing weather. I crossed the Sound today, not many water craft out, the sight of all that water stretching east, rippled by a light breeze, those little islands below the Throgg's Neck Bridge, traffic moving well, it was all good for the soul to see, the expanse of it all. 
...

we all need a little ...

One of the quietest nights I've walked the dog on ... and listened to, since September 2001. 
59F here and the sudden drop in temp it feels like the 40s.

Living not 20 miles from three of the world's largest airports, there's usually always some kind of background roar or aircraft, automobiles, motorbikes, fire engines and whatnot around here.
We're about the second or third town past where the metropolitan buzz ends these days. [it has spread nearer and nearer, such that we often begin to think our town is becoming like a part of the NYC Borough of Queens, sometimes.]

For a moment I almost felt transported to
... here.

But tonight the silence was so deafening I stopped walking with the dog, for us both to listen. Before all there had been was the sound of dogs barking and people sneezing. A cat scurrying away into the bushes. and then nothing. I checked the stars on this deep blue cloudless night — like I did before I hurt my neck — and they were all in place, no constellation tainted by blinking lights of passing planes. And the silence in between them as quiet as our breathing could be. That's the great thing about some hunting-type dogs, they can instinctively summon stillness, too.

You stop dead; they stop and stand at full alert.

The big quiet lasted about maybe 5 or 10 minutes, I guess. So rare around here I almost wondered if something wasn't wrong. Even when the wind keep the flight paths west, there's usually plenty of planes twinkling their tail lights, or wing lights like so many distant fireflies, nose lights coming in like beacons.

The last time it went so quiet was shortly after 9/11 when the only aircraft to punctuate the silence were National Guard jets flying fast at high altitude through a then-eerie silence.

Quiet, dark nights are probably the norm for most of the country folk among us. I can remember what it was like from boyhood, to lay down in a field on my back, in the darkness returning from town to the last street by the edge of the farms where I lived. No light. just stars.

Now, however, I've been so urbanized, and this long-ago pastoral area has become more hustle-bustly, that quiet is almost disarming. I'm not sure we'd be able to deal with it if we moved to the country. (though we can quickly get used to it on vacay in a place like Cape Cod, given the chance.)

... or even here ...

When I used to check the constellations, I'd pick the darkest streets for the best viewing some of them; try to memorize the star groupings and check them later against star maps.

Pain in the ass when the new guy, who came to live opposite the little dark street with the best star-viewing area, installed a motion-sensor light on his side door, effectively blasting the night with flooding blinding halogen beams, if anyone, or any car passed within 100 yards ... and this a relatively busy street, so the damn thing was always on. Glad to say it's gone now.

I count blessings when the end street light bulb gives out once in a while, and the night reclaims its darkness. For we still have some small parcels of woods to suck out the light like a vacuum ... and near them, you can hear all the stars and see all the silence.

Yes, I know, I need to take some fresh,
night-time happy black dog photos

I wonder what my young dog makes of all this. Yeah, I know. "There's that branch of fine crunchy twigs I was eating that my person took from me and threw away this morning, now I got it back! and I'm chew it to pieces and eat it all up."

Stash 'em for when you need' em

Emergen-C.  Mike Vitti turned me onto it a good decade ago.

That, Zicam cold remedy spray,  and a very good Saline spray, usually will stave off a good percentage of colds. Whole family had this cold but I resisted for weeks. Now it his with a swift and knee-buckling vengeance. 

Odd, because at lunch I felt well enough to run. But so it goes.

It hit around 4 or 5 p.m. My new box of  Emergen-C from CVS was water damaged... Have to return it. I had none left there. Maybe at home?

You never know when you are going to run out. When your kids discover them, your stocks will expire in double quick time.

They went through my camelback.  None left. The pantry? None left. Work bag? None left. Cycling clothes bag? Napa. Car? Nothing....
Golf bag... Bingo!

Might be too late for Emergen-C, saline,  and Zicam to solve this sudden sore throat, but we can but hope.

After a long day at sea

Z-Dogg,  hits the hay early,  after a long afternoon of play at the shoreline... That salt water will make you sleepy every time.

4-Club Wind

In golf terms 4-club wind means you better take a club four levels — or about 40 yards — longer than the one you'd normally select. If a 9 iron takes out out to 135 yards, go with a five. In windsurfing terms it means it's blowing 4.0 to 4.5. Oh well, never mind, can't always get the forecast right.


Legs and fitness feel good after what was a pretty arduous 650 feet of MTB climbing today.

POSTED No trespassing. 300 feet up above the golf
course and Hempstead Harbor.

I should have been windsurfing both days, but made other plans early Saturday, when I saw the forecasts looked weak.  In fact I figured the wind would be so puny, I would introduce Z-Dogg to SUPing on O-Bay.

But just as I was about to bolt, Chuck suggested golf, and I felt ready for that, too (I figure it had been around a year since my last 9-hole round; we were well overdue). So Z-Dogg got her walk but not her swim.

Meanwhile, down below, the previous day. A 4-club breeze
did little to stymie the new swing. Memo—clouds
like these mean wind at the surface.

A quick warm up at the range. The new grip is working well -- finally straight shots. ... I seem to have mostly eliminated the hard hook  — I open the club face slightly at address. And the second part of the equation is a very easy relaxed swing, i just drop down from the backswing with gravity and accelerate from there. Strangely it delivers as long, if not longer, of a ball flight as if it had tried to whack it with all my might. Today I pulled out a series of clubs and within two swings they were dialed. Didn't bother with the Driver. But when I pulled it on the course for fun, I topped the first, and nailed the second like a missile. Made the first four fairways, including a stellar low 5 wood to about 240 leap-frogging a linguine-like ribbon of fairway, water and other hazards, to within two putts of a made birdie. After something like that it doesn't matter how the rest of the round goes.

Z-dogg: collecting IOUs for swims and SUP sessions?
She hears rumors there are ducks on the bay. That's gotta
be good if you're a part-lab, no?

Next day, a hard MTB ride in the local dirt and hills. The wind and rain came up again, as a front came through, so I waited in my cycling gear for a couple of hours for the worst of it to pass. There was no way I was not going to get out there an burn some calories.

To once again avoid a miserable windy ride, I set a course of the highest hills in the neighborhood, including some trails in the trees. There, it did not matter whether the wind was blowing or not, as the steep 300 foot hills block just about every breeze. Legs felt tired from yesterday's golf, "remind me, why am I riding this hill again." OK they'll feel better later ... and sure enough they did. Changed up the hill route a little ... I look forward to doing this with a 15 lb lighter bike, but am using the MTB again today, while the roads are still in their potholed prime.