Thursday, September 19, 2024
Labor Day looms in just a few weeks; it’s the traditional “end of summer” marker. But the signs of pending autumn have been everywhere I look.
Several mornings in a row there’s been “ground fog,” soon routed by the sun, but a hallmark of my favorite season. A couple of the maple trees show a branch or two experimenting with a new color, and the overnight temperatures are dropping further day by day. I dearly love a “high of 70-degrees.” Soon we can start enjoying a late afternoon fire at the pit again.
The summer flowers are slowly disappearing. Yesterday’s wildflower species count on the dog walk was 17 instead of 16, because I spotted a single daisy, a late bloomer of its kind. Several of the other summer regulars are already gone, and most of the fall bloomers are present. Another sign is the raspberries are resting from the summer crop, while the bees work new flowers, ensuring there will be plenty more berries in a few weeks.
The “green wall” dividing our house from the lake view is thinning, as a few leaves begin to shed from the trees. That allows Wolf to spot deer on the game trail that green belt hides, giving him something to obsess about. We had to remove the bird feeder due to the ongoing appearances of a bear on the trail cameras; that means the squirrels and chipmunks have no motivation to be on the patio. Wolf devotes his life to monitoring that patio and routing rodents from his “exclusion zone,” so it’s good to see him have “purpose” again – frightening the deer with his barking from inside the house or fenced patio. (Our other dog, Ivy, is now retired. If Wolf announces a major deer emergency, she’ll get up and help bark, but most of the time she just naps. She is past her hyperkinetic bully terrier prime, which isn’t all bad.)
The apple trees are heavily laden, both our planted and protected ones and the “volunteer” ones. The apples will be welcomed by the wild ones; last year’s bumper crop of acorns will not be duplicated this year. The deer will also miss the corn planted in fields to our north and south; last year, they were able to help themselves even through the winter. This spring’s heavy rains destroyed the crop in the north field; but the soybeans in the south field are already being “appreciated.”
If I pause outside and listen, the bird calls have completely changed. Possibly there is less need to vocalize with the baby birds all fledged; territories are less vigorously defended than they were earlier in the summer. The loud calls of blue jays and crows are most noticeable now, along with long lines of honking geese trekking in seemingly random directions. This morning, I heard a sandhill crane, but I haven’t seen any in quite a while. The family of ducks seems to have moved on, and only a lone green heron is hanging around Hank Lake now.
All of these changes are welcome. I love fall above all other seasons, and look forward to the autumn tasks. I slow down, appreciate each walk more deeply, and make my personal preparations for the long dark winter. I have a list of indoor projects, and a huge stack of new books ready for that challenging period after the holidays.
As I review a summer that brought unexpected challenges, I decide there is really only one more summer thing I haven’t done that I love. I will look for an opportunity to cross that item off my list in the next few weeks. While I can swim, I don’t especially enjoy it, but I love wading in a river, creek or lake. Wading doesn’t require a change of clothing, or involve towels, but it does give you that sensory experience, the view straight down through the water to your feet and a close look at the aquatic life forms that are harder to spot from dry land.
Bring it on, fall. I am excited you are on your way.
You can reach me for commentary, alternative viewpoints or ideas at this e-mail address: Janiethibmartin@gmail.com.
Janie Thibodeau Martin
