Mon 2 Oct It seems as though for the last two months there has been a steady chorus of boom... crash... thud... or bang. Anyone on the Island who hears this looks up at the sound. And the suddenness and loudness can be alarming for the uninitiated. The cause is the slow but steady rain of black walnuts falling from the big tree near the canoe shed that are hitting the tin roof. Since this tree is over a hundred feet tall, the velocity and speed of impact can vary... but it is always dramatic. Today it has seemed as though there has been one every fifteen minutes or so, and one wonders if some danger sign should be posted, especially if one imagines the consequences of such a walnut achieving zero velocity on the top of someone's head. Certainly your Caretaker creeps by at the margin of the drip line or scurries from shed to shed. Besides, it is downright difficult to walk under this tree because two months of bombardment has left the ground so covered with the equivalent of very large marbles that footing is chancy. It is a bumper crop for sure, as we do not remember so many falling for so long. Furthermore, walnut trees being the first to start loosing their foliage in the fall, it is now possible to look up to where the leaves are thinning and see lots of spheroids still clinging. So be alert, and remember to bring your hard hats if you plan to hang out at that end of the lawn.

Fri 6 Oct It has been a desperate search... to no avail. The situation is critical. The geese are back... migration is in progress... the goose hotels are crowded every night... by this we mean the floats... and the red snow shovel which is used to remove the goose poo is no where to be found.

Sat 7 Oct This is the season not only of presidential debates but also of abundant mouse and vole gifts from the cats. Mostly dead, of course. It is hard for critters of any size to move about the Island quietly with all of this crackly leaf fall. All of this is disturbing to the Caretaker's Wife, a compassionate liberal, who invariably gathers the cats to give them a lecture on their Buddhist non-violent responsibilities. Barney and Miss T listen attentively, but there is, of course, no change in their behaviour. Then there is usually an announcement by the Caretaker's Wife that the cat's rations need to be increased so that the poor felines will not feel the urge to chase harmless creatures. Once Barney was seen to sort of smile at this announcement, and the Caretaker has suspicions that the cats are smarter about this than they let on... but he is not silly enough to mention this. He did once foolishly offer his own opinion that the problem would go away if the cat's rations were cut to the point where both the catching and the consumption would take place out of doors and thus out of sight... but he was then accused of being a closet Conservative and was promptly dismissed from all duties having to do with cat food... other than lugging heavy cases of it down the hill. Still, there is probably some hope that increasing rations will result in fatter cats that will at some point result in slower cats and thus finally in higher Sycamore mice/vole life expectancy. No political metaphor is intended.

Thu 19 Oct Migration is in full swing, and Islanders who are birders are reminded that sitting on the captain's float is front row to avian activity along the Potomac gorge, one of the major migration highways. Occasional flocks of various kinds will fill the air with their presence, both visual and auditory, and watching large flocks manoeuvre this way and that above causes one to wonder if there is a group gestalt, the way they move with group unison and purpose. The similarity to the movements of a school of fish is identical.

Mon 23 Oct Jessie Bakeman had a small party here this Saturday, and as she and her party were leaving, the Caretaker commented gratefully that they were taking not only their own garbage, but also that garbage and trash that others had left in the kitchen. When the Caretaker commented that it seemed that Members were increasingly leaving their garbage behind, Jesse was quick to point out that it was the Caretaker's own fault for letting the Members get sloppy, remembering that previous Caretaker Frank Davis "never let Members get away with that sort of thing. In those days the (Member) substitute caretakers were expected to clean the Clubhouse and scrub the floor." How times have changed!

Wed 25 Oct Today Home Depot managed to deliver the materiel needed to continue work on the warm room upstairs... after the third try. Such a saga, but mind you, the Island is not the easiest place to deliver anything to. First one must attempt to explain why the actual address on the order is meaningless as the delivery address. Then one advances to the plea to have the driver call before coming so that he can be made to understand why he should go to a parking lot on the Clara Barton Parkway to meet some guy with a key and not to some address on MacArthur Blvd. The drivers are definitely put off when informed that the reason they have to remember a clearance number obtained beforehand from Park Police is because it is otherwise illegal to drive a truck onto the Parkway. But that is nothing as the tension when they turn off of the Parkway at Lock 5 and see for the first time the bridge and towpath that they must navigate. Here the Caretaker unlocks the gate to the towpath using the key given him by the Rangers for which he had to sign innumerable government forms, raise his hand and swear an oath, and generally be made to understand that if he ever lost said key his best hope would be to flee to Canada. Now it is important for the Caretaker to keep the conversation rolling with studied nonchalance as though everything is normal despite the several places where the towpath narrows at where it has been partially washed out and where the view of the river from the cab of a big truck can only be described as precipitous. The drivers are always told in advance about the place on the towpath where they can turn around, although not that it was designed for golf carts, but this is always forgotten as they pull up to the ferry landing and grasp what is actually involved. The Caretaker is always ready for the inevitable "You expect us to what?" and here is where max charm must be put into to play... or failing that... a twenty dollar bill.

Excerpted from the Caretaker's Log at sycamoreisland.org

-- Doc Taliaferro, Sycamore Island Caretaker