Wednesday, November 29, 2017

A Long Season

This golden time of year has been gentle and ever so slow in our woods.  I usually blink and we go from brilliance to gray silhouettes and bruising cold winds.  We patiently wait for a winter snow that comes late and sometimes lasts only a day or two.



But this November is transitioning into an "Indian Summer" as December slides on in.  The earliest source of the expression according to the ubiquitous Wikipedia is from an essay written in the United States in the late 1770's, perhaps based on a Native American description of a warmer than usual hunting season.  With the warming of the planet, these Indian Summers will be even more common.  The angle of the sun turns the water that unusual turquoise blue that is most often seen in the high mountain lakes of Canada rather than the rivers of the Mid-Atlantic.  The green algae have sunk to the bottom and the sunlight filters pure.


Not many birds come to the feeders as the weather is warm and they need fewer calories.  I count birds for Cornell and my numbers are going to be small this fall.

I harvest an abundance of persimmons as I watch the oak leaves sail like golden-brown kites across the yard and glide to my feet.


The lawn has been covered in outdoor carpeting and I like it that way.  The first to arrive were the red maple leaves.


This was followed in a week or two by the leathery oak leaves creating a brown carpet in the backyard hiding the path to the dock under a crunchy sound alarm, making it impossible to sneak up on the waterfowl for photos.


No complaints on my part.  All is well in the season of autumn.  I can be patient.

Post a Comment